Not a dream. Not a hallucination. Nora—summoned less than twelve hours ago from a dusty spell book and a questionable amount of belief—was real. Her hair caught the morning light like honey in a jar. She hummed something that wasn't a real song but felt like one I'd forgotten.
"You take your coffee with cinnamon," she said, not turning around. "You pretend you don't, but you do." spells r us dream girl part 2
"It's fine," I said.
By noon, Nora had finished three of my sentences, laughed at a joke I'd only thought, and cried during a commercial for pet adoption because she felt how much I wanted a dog but was too scared to commit. Not a dream
She glanced over her shoulder, smiled. "Because you wished for someone who knows you, Leo. Not just someone pretty." She slid a pancake onto a plate. "The spell gave you what you asked for." Her hair caught the morning light like honey in a jar
By 3 p.m., I tried to call Marcus. Voicemail.