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Chapter 1


“We need to talk.”

I haven’t lived very long, but I know that those four words are never good. Especially when said by your parents. Irene and Daniel Moretti are not the type of parents that have sit-down talks, they just aren’t. They are also not the type to be “hardasses,” as my friend Jess likes to call her own set. My mom is carefree, funny, and trusts me; my dad is social, sensitive, and never seen without a smile on his face. I’ve never had a curfew, they have always respected my space, and in turn I have been very open with them about everything.

So of course when I hear the words, we need to talk, I freak the crap out. I gingerly take a seat on our living room couch, wrapping a huge blue blanket around my body. They sit across from me in a loveseat, sitting upright, and I notice their shoulders are straighter than usual. “’re not having the sex talk with me, are you? Because I know about the whole safe se-”

Nonononononono,” both my parents are frantically waving their hands about, blabbering on about how my Aunt Helen already did that for them a couple years ago, they do not and will not go over it with me, and I relaxed a bit. Until I realized that there was some other topic they wanted to talk to me about.

Drugs? I’ve only tried it once and they know that I have no interest in it. Are they getting a divorce? Oh, God, they’re getting a divorce. But my parents have no reason to, they are and have always been a happy couple - they are always displaying their affection, they have enough money to where it’s not something to argue about… What do they need to talk to me about then???

“Nic, if you just stop talking we can explain everything to you-”

I didn’t realize my internal monologue was actually external. I kind of mumble to myself a lot. “Oh. Okay. Go on th-”

“Dan, maybe we shouldn’t have started off with ‘We need to talk’ you know…” Mom turns to Dad.

“Yes, well, I didn’t realize it would freak her out this much-”

“Well obviously, since we’ve never started a conversation with that and-”

“Guys! Please - just get on with it,” I say exasperated.

“Right, well honey, we know how much you like to travel, so we don’t think it will be a huge problem, but your mother has decided to take a new job,” Dad starts.

He pauses to let me think this over. “Um, okay, well what does traveling have to do with mom changing jobs?” I ask, somewhat getting the hint.

“We’re moving to-” Dad begins to say, until Mom is obviously too excited and finishes with “Scotland!”

“Scotland? Like as in...'across the Pond?' As in Not America?” I question, “Wait, what job? Does it give you more money? Who got in contact with you from Scotland? I…” I notice my parents did not really want to answer them right away, but my mom puts a piece her shoulder length black hair behind her ear and says, “Yes well, it’s another Healer job at a place in Scotland that offered us more money than what I’m making at Blessed Heart,” she takes another small breath and I know she’s not done. I got my talkativeness from her. And my dad too, since they both talk a good amount. “And you know I’m friends with Katie over in the UK - from when she came to America to visit her sister Kimberly Bell. Remember Kimberly? She and I had Healer training together. Even though I ended up being closer with Katie, when her name was still Katie Bell before she got married-”

“Mom, please get on with it-”

“Well Katie said,” my mom went on, ignoring my comment, “around last year or so, that their head Healer is retiring and needs a new replacement in the fall, and we started talking more about it, I got in touch with the boss, and I am to start in September!”

My dad is nodding the whole time, while keeping one eye on his wife and one eye on me, whether or not I will give any reaction. My mom stops with her explanation to see what I have to say, and my dad turns to look at me full-on.

“Um, so we’re moving to Scotland. This fall.” I deadpanned.

They both nod and wait. “So…” Dad giving me an option to finish.

“So . . . um, yay?”

Dad’s eyebrows are knit together to make me confused, “‘Yay?’ All you have to say is yay? to this news?”

“I mean, congrats? I’m glad you’re doing something you want. Okay, when are we moving?”

Mom speaks slower this time, rather than her usual upbeat tone, “Uh yeah - that’s something we weren’t sure about what you would think. We’re moving this weekend. . .”

“This weekend. As in THIS weekend? As in, like, two days from now?” I start to panic a bit, being the planner I am - I’m not a fan of surprises. I like to know what is going to happen and when and what I can do to prepare myself for any situation.

“Now there’s the reaction I was waiting for,” Dad comments. I ignore him.

“Yes. Nicolette, please understand that we are in no way trying to-”

“-Take me away from my friends is what you’re doing! I was trying to process it, accept it, and then you throw that bomb on me, telling me I have two days to let them know and say goodbye? Oh God, Margo is going to be so mad. She’s going to come over and demand an explanation from you, you know,” Margo Anders (best friend and also planner - a bigger one than I am) has that type of relationship with my parents where she can talk to them without me being there. It’s really cool actually, since most people just don’t talk to their friends' parents on a first name basis.

Dad leans forward to get off the couch and adds before he walks into the kitchen, “Yes, well then you better let them all know now then - Irene, I’ll tidy the house up a bit so it looks nice when she heads over here. . .”

He leaves us alone because I know he doesn’t want to hear the bickering Mom and I usually do. “Nikkie,” Mom always calls me that when she tries to get on my good side.

I stand up, “It’s okay, Mom. I need a bit to process this and also let everyone know about leaving,” I’m about to turn, before my brain catches up with all this and I stop. “Wait. If we’re moving so soon that means . . .”

Mom waits for me to verbalize my train of thought. When I don’t, she pipes in saying, “Yes, Nikkie, you’re going to finish your last year at school in Scotland.”

Mom!” I whine - really well might I add, it’s a talent. “It’s my last year. Ilvermorny is going to lose the Quid Finals against Salem, and we’ve done so well already! And everyone is going to hate that I can’t graduate with them-”

Mom pinches the bridge of her nose with a delicate olive hand, something she does when stressed. She looked me in the eye and I knew from that face that there was no arguing tonight. “Nikkie, I know. It’s not something I want to put on you, but we haven’t moved since you finished elementary school, and I know that was hard on you too when you were younger." We moved a lot during elementary school. "But you were going to a boarding school anyway, so we didn’t see a problem with staying. But this is a really good promotion that even my boss at Blessed Heart says I should take.” And that was that. I have had fights with my mother before, but that was when I was more naive; we haven’t been in actual heavy ones in a while. I didn’t want to break the streak.

“Okay. Fine, well I’m going to let the girls know, and Ethan too, all of this.” I stand back up and head downstairs to my room.

“I’m sorry - this was a lot to handle,” Mom’s words made me stop and when I turn I notice her arms are outstretched. I give her a hug, we say more goodnights and exchange cheek kisses.

I flop on my bed and reach for my smartphone, but then stop to my dismay fully knowing it’s pretty late. I don’t want them to wake up to this news, so I make a mental promise that I will let them know tomorrow. And no one is going to be happy with my new news.



Hello and welcome! I have never written and published anything before, so this is a first for me. I hope you will stay for more, as I have a lot in store for this fic. Please let me know what you think in the reviews, and maybe give suggestions as to what you think will happen? Thanks in advance!



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