I nodded. “Flies, spiders, and dew that still has dawn reflected in it.”
“I couldn’t see them at first till he rubbed my eyes around with his fingers,” said Devon. “My fingers. Whatever. Now my eyes feel like they’re full of Vaseline.” He shrugged his shoulders, swaying again. “I could crumble up an energy bar for the frogs. Do you think they’d eat it?”
“Doubtful,” I said. Pixies were picky. “I could help you catch spiders after school if you want. But they definitely need the dew tomorrow at dawn or their lights will dim.”
“I remember the first time I dealt with a kitten at the shelter that wouldn’t eat anything,” Devon said. “Tried cloth soaked in milk, baby formula, water … Dunno why I didn’t think of dawn-reflected dew.”
“Ready to go?” said Jenah from across the hall.
Devon bent toward me. “How can I deal with it, Cam?” he said urgently. “Estahoth said he’s here till Friday no matter what. How can I make it two more days without going crazy? Everything he made me do last night, from smashing birds’ nests to throwing the pixies in the box with no food … He’s my opposite. What do I do?”
Little blows shook my soul. How could I explain to him how his words hit home? How do you deal when some random statement hits to the core of your deepest fears?
We looked at each other for ages. I don’t think either of us could’ve spoken if we tried.
Then Jenah grabbed my arm and the moment collapsed. “Have. To. Go,” she said. “Come on down to the choir room if you get a chance, Devon. I’ve got ideas for you.” She grinned and dragged me down the crowded hallway. “Mick says the punks poll one hundred percent in favor of Lice Blanket, and zero percent in favor of the band Sparkle wants. God, the only people who like that band are Sparkle’s girls and maybe also the pink-sweater-vest crowd.”
“You don’t have to pull,” I finally managed, halfway down the hall.
“Oh good, Miss Giant,” she said. “Then come on.”
“If you were any shorter, I’d step on you,” I said. I went through the motions of the familiar teasing, but I was still thinking about someone driving my life, someone who was the opposite of everything I stood for.
But we were at the door to the choir room. “Focus! Free food!” Jenah said in my ear, and shoved me through.
The room was full of Sparkle’s friends, claiming the space by draping themselves on the risers and around the piano. Jenah was right: deep soul-searching would have to wait. I shook my head and tried to focus.
The catering was good as usual when Sparkle was involved. No, I don’t know why we get catering for a party-planning committee, except that Sparkle gets her best friend Reese’s mom to donate for whatever Sparkle wants. I’m not complaining. Sushi and sashimi out the ears, plenty of the stuff I like and the witch hates. I get to eat Cantonese at Jenah’s place (her mom sighs and fixes it when the tradition-loving grandparents are there), and pizza when I sneak off by myself on teacher workday holidays (I don’t tell the witch those days exist), but otherwise it’s beet salad and raw carrots all the way. The witch refuses to get take-out because she says the delivery people’s vibes interfere with her spells or something.
Sparkle was standing by the spider rolls in a white tank and turquoise sequined skirt. I could almost feel cheery toward Sparkle for the catering choices, but of course she immediately studied my butt in my second-best jeans and said, “You should definitely have some more tempura, Camellia.”
I put another handful of fried things on my plate. “Excellent suggestion,” I said. “You should definitely have some more total pain in the—”
“Oh, Camellia, don’t,” said Miss Crane ineffectually. We all knew Miss Crane, as she was the choir teacher, and also the one dumped with unfun tasks like trying to stop Sparkle from running everything. She was probably young, but she wore long shapeless skirts and button-down shirts like a refugee from one of her own choir concerts. “Grab your food and sit down, girls. This is our last chance to finalize.” She perched on the edge of her high stool as if she would flee at any moment.
“Something’s going down,” Jenah whispered to me. “I can feel it.” She whisked over to a random girl, not one of Sparkle’s, and moved her to the top riser. “You sit here,” she said to the girl. “Better feng shui.” Jenah moved the trash can next to Sparkle’s sidekick Reese and sat down again.
“Jenah, please,” said Miss Crane. “The party is this Friday and I need to double check the last few party essentials. Benjamin, do you have the receipts for the streamers? And, Sparkle, I still need to approve the playlist for the band.”