Witcha'be Read Online Free Page B

grabbed a cookie. She offered one to Bianca, who snarled.
    “Come on, Bianca, they look good.” She held the cookies to Bianca’s face.
    “No.”
    “Fine.” Lenni sighed then took a bite, perking up. “Hey, I’m not finished playing truth or dare. And I want to spin this time.”
    “It’s Molly’s turn,” Bianca reminded her.
    “I pass. Go ahead, Lenni.”
    She smiled and gave the bottle a hard twist. “Bianca.”
    “Get on with it,” Bianca rolled her eyes.
    “Truth or dare?”
    “Dare. Of course.”
    “I dare you to eat one of Molly’s delicious cookies.” She wagged the baggie.
    “No.” Bianca glared at Lenni.
    “Don’t make me do the chicken dance.” Lenni pulled to her knees, hands on her hips, elbows flapping.
    “You’re so obnoxious,” Bianca grumbled, yanking a crumbling cookie from the bag. “What kind is it?”
    “Oatmeal raisin,” I answered.
    “Are you sure?” She held the cookie up, examining it, a disgusted look on her face.
    “Positive,” I said, irritated. “I’ve watched my mom make them hundreds of times.”
    Bianca locked eyes with me and took a bite.
    “I want the recipe,” Lenni mumbled around a mouthful. “What’s in them?”
    I closed my eyes and pictured Mom filling her silver mixing bowl. “Oatmeal, raisins, butter, sugar, brown sugar, vanilla…” I opened my eyes, trying to remember the rest. “Flour, baking soda, salt—”
    “Eww, salt, in cookies?” Lenni interrupted, grimacing.
    “Mom says it heightens the flavor of the other ingredients.”
    “I taste something familiar, but I can’t put my finger on it,” Lenni said, polishing off her second cookie. “No cheating, Bianca. You have to eat the entire thing.”
    Bianca shoved in the rest of the cookie and swallowed hard. “Happy?” she growled.
    “Yep.” Lenni smiled.
    “Peanut butter,” I said, remembering the forgotten ingredient.
    Lenni’s gaze flicked to Bianca.
    “Peanut butter?” Bianca narrowed her eyes.
    “The thing I couldn’t remember was peanut butter. My mom always adds a little to the cookie dough. She says it helps the texture.”
    Bianca screeched like a terrified animal.
    I flinched, my gaze jerking between Bianca and Lenni.
    “Did you tell her?” Bianca’s voice was a breathy squeak.
    “She doesn’t know. Please, don’t be mad,” Lenni pleaded.
    “I’m going to be sick—don’t follow me.” Bianca sprung from the room.
    Lenni melted into the floor.
    I rose and shut the door, shrinking inside. “Please tell me Bianca isn’t allergic to peanuts.” I’d heard terrible stories about people who’d suffered, and sometimes died, from peanut allergies.
    “She isn’t.”
    “Then what’s the problem?” My shoulders relaxed a little. I lowered to the floor and crisscrossed my legs.
    “She has an issue with peanut butter. She can’t help it.”
    “What kind of issue?”
    “Just drop it, Molly. Please.”
    Annoyed, I picked at her. “Let me guess, witches can’t eat peanut butter because it gums up their powers?”
    “Stop. There’s a reason.” Lenni rested her chin on her fists. I resented the way she took up for Bianca.
    “A witch that runs screaming from peanut butter.” I gave a hollow chuckle. “I’m definitely not threatened by her anymore. It would be different if she was allergic, but what kind of wimp can’t handle a little PB without puking? I mean, should we call 911?”
    Lenni gasped, her eyes wide, color draining from her face.
    I whirled.
    Bianca stood behind me in the doorway, nostrils flared, black eyeliner smudged. “The door doesn’t always fasten, remember?” Red lipstick feathered around her mouth.
    “Molly doesn’t know about Sam,” Lenni whispered.
    Bianca stepped into the room, pulled the door closed and jiggled the knob, forcing the latch. She lowered to the floor, brought her knees to her chest and laced her fingers around them. “Do you have any idea what anaphylaxis is?” She formed the words slowly.
    I shook my