Trial 8

Trial 8

"Come on Julie. Druggies have their choice of highs at good old Elm Central," Cherrie said, pulling on her earring. I thought that she must have watched too many "Bewitched" shows. "We're the AP Chemistry stars. We can come up with something new."

I bought in. We weren't witches cackling over a pot. We used test tubes. Mixing ingredients, each from their own pitcher, with apple juice so that we could sip each trial without barfing.

The first 7 trials, nothing. Trial 8 well...

We experienced the same unbelievable event in a trance.

"Our football team defeating East High," I laughed. "Tonight's the big game. We'll know how far off our glimpse into the future was."

Only it wasn't off at all.

We had to try again.

Cherrie's friend Brooke, broke up with a great guy who she'd dated since our Sophomore year.

Everyone passed the mid-term that we expected to be a killer.

Our prophecies kept happening. Some good things; some bad.

"Are these happening because we see them?" I asked Cherrie. "Can we change them?"

"Only way to find out," Cherrie responded, "is to try to change an outcome."

We started easy, bringing umbrellas to school one day when the forecast was sunny, but we'd seen a storm. Stayed dry.

Saw a poor little puppy hit in front of the school. He licked our faces after we kept him on our side of the road.

Picked something we didn't want to happen, my boyfriend meeting a real seductress, and falling for him.

"You sidetrack her, and I'll ask him to help me at the library," Cherrie suggested.

It sounded like a plan. Turned out that her earring pull wasn't just a habit.

My boyfriend never did meet the seductress. But Cherrie sure met him. The witch.