I wasn’t so lucky. Even after drinking the potion I tossed and turned all night long, drifting off for a few minutes before suddenly waking. That happened to me sometimes. When it did, a sleep spell was the only thing I knew that could help. But I didn’t live at home anymore and I couldn’t exactly call Mom to ask her to drive twenty minutes to my house in the middle of the night. Work beckoned to me the next morning, rested or not, so I brewed my wakefulness potion to cast aside the residual drowsiness. Madison, who would be starting her first day of student teaching, looked like she could use some as well so I passed her a cup. “Thanks,” she said, taking a sip. Then her eyes widened and color flooded into her cheeks. “You’d better watch out, this stuff could be way more addictive than coffee.” It was way more addictive than coffee, which was why I refused to brew it more than a handful of times a month, and only when I really needed it. Usually, one sleepless night wouldn’t be enough for me to decide I needed it, but it had been nearly a month since the last time I’d brewed it and Mondays could be chaotic.
