I roll my eyes. “How would I know if a squirrel’s a she?”
With my chin, I gesture to the house next door, where Mrs. Seyfreth is perched on top of the crumbling stone bench in her backyard peering over the fence. Fur coat and all. This time, she’s added a sun hat.
Laila hides behind the spread on Thong Your Thing? Find Your Perfect Fit. “She’s still doing that?”
“Unfortunately. And it still creeps me out.”
“Um, yeah, I can see why.” Laila nudges her chair closer to mine. “Do something.”
“Something? Like what?”
“I don’t know, make the fence taller.”
“Because that won’t attract attention.” I snort. “Or be the first slip down your slide.”
She squirms. “This is different. It’s for us, not her.”
“Uh-huh.” I stare back at Mrs. Seyfreth, trying to creep her out instead, but it doesn’t work. Her lifeless eyes continue to be aimed our way. Forcing myself out of my lounge chair, I close the distance between us.
The gap between the lilac bushes along the fence lines up perfectly with the location of Mrs. Seyfreth’s stone bench. If only that bush on the right shifted closer to the one on the left, it’d obscure her view.
I wave my hand in front of Mrs. Seyfreth’s face. Nothing registers in her glassy eyes. I jump up and down. Still nothing. I wave my hand and jump up and down. Not even a blink.
Oh, why not?
Swiveling my head to ensure we’re otherwise alone, I hold my book in front of her face and focus my mind on the lilac bush. I dig my toes into the grass, imagine the system of roots underneath, feel the air gently caressing my mostly naked body, and command the lilac bush to move. It does. Purple flowers rest where Mrs. Seyfreth’s face used to be.
My pangs of guilt don’t get the chance to deepen because a distant male voice saying, “Hey, Azra,” replaces every little twinge of remorse with debilitating stabs of panic.
“Azra?”
Henry’s voice. Louder now. Popping up on tiptoes to get a better view over our tall fence, I see Henry in our front yard. How long has he been in our front yard?
As he approaches the fence, he runs his hand through his hair and his eyes bug out.
He’s seen me! He must have seen me.
Clutching my book to my bare stomach, I leap forward so my line of sight matches Henry’s. Not until I confirm he couldn’t have seen the magically moving bush from here do I breathe again.
Now directly across from me, Henry’s gaze travels the length of my body. Oh, he’s seen me, all right. I curse myself for not conjuring that blanket.
14
“It’s too cold!” Laila cries, skimming just a single toe along the surface of the Carwyns’ pool.
Henry’s inside getting us more sugar for our iced teas.
“You’re the one who wanted to come over here so badly. ‘Oh, Henry, I’ve been dying to take a dip!’ Well, dip away, Sister.”
Serves her right for forcing us to come over here. If my mother’s remotely right about Henry having a crush, I don’t want to encourage him. He’s Jenny’s brother. The idea of him having a crush makes me more uncomfortable than Mrs. Seyfreth’s blank stare.
Before we followed Henry into his backyard, I conjured myself a long black T-shirt, which I’m now wearing over my skimpy bikini.
“But it’s like ice!” Laila scoops up pool water and sprinkles it on my toes.
“Stop that!” I jerk my foot back, but Laila catches me by my ankle and points at my toenails.
“Why haven’t you painted them? I’m sure you’re way better than the salon we went to last week.”
“We?”
“Oh, not our Zar.” Laila cringes slightly. “Just some girls from school.”
Laila’s always been less insular than the rest of our Zar sisters. Still, it hadn’t occurred to me before now that everyone else getting their powers might be making her feel left out.
“I should have called you,” she says.
I cannot let Laila feel bad about this. “We both know I would’ve turned you down.”
“But maybe not next time?”
“But maybe not next time,” I say, not expecting to mean it. But I do, or at least I want to.
“Maybe you can do both of ours later?”
I exaggerate an eye roll. “Fine, but no foot massage.”
Her pleased look morphs into a pout as she attempts to submerge her entire foot. “Azra, come on. For me.”
She’s back to that. The pool, which she wants me to heat up. Standing at the shallow end, I wonder why inground pools have to be so big.
Laila sighs. “Shall I call Yasmin to help?”
My head springs back. Such a little instigator. First Mrs. Seyfreth and now the Carwyns’ pool? Laila’s becoming a bad influence. A bad influence who has just proved how well she knows me.
Through gritted teeth, I say, “I’ll do it,” and brush past her. I barrel down the top two steps and immediately flail and grasp for the handrail. I have to bite my tongue so I don’t cry out. Before I know what’s happening, little bubbles simmer at the surface of the water the entire length of the pool, from shallow to deep end.
Instantly, Laila slides the rest of the way in, even plunging her head under the water. “Ooh, it’s like a hot tub.” She plays with the bubbles, purring like a kitten. “Admit it. This is better.”
“Well, sure it’s better.” I plant myself on the top step. “Seriously, how do humans swim in anything below ninety degrees?”
Oh crap. Humans. Like Henry, who’s opening the screen door. I meant to warm the pool just enough that Laila and I wouldn’t get frostbite but not so much that he’d notice.
“Laila,” I say, but she’s on her back, floating into the deep end. I need her to distract Henry from coming into the pool while I try to lower the temperature to something that isn’t suitable for boiling lobsters.
Raising my voice, I say again, “Laila.”
She flips over. “Something wrong?”