“Just because you have a Waters boyfriend doesn’t mean you’re some sort of expert on them,” she snapped, then immediately winced. “Sorry. That was awful.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “I’m not an expert.”
“It’s not okay. I shouldn’t say stuff like that. You shouldn’t let me get away with it.”
I didn’t say, So it’s my fault when you say mean things to me? I didn’t say anything.
We reached the head of the line and stepped into the tiny cars. Since I was standing with Diana, she and I shared a car, and Cal and Ari shared the one behind us.
“Sometimes I want high school to be over already, so I can get out,” Diana said. “It’s going to be a strange year.”
“I’ll be here.”
“I was thinking maybe I’ll go to boarding school. Be on my own for a while.”
From the car behind us, I could hear Ari talking about the Manhattan Ballet. “. . . leave August first, and we’re already starting to pack up . . .”
“A girl I know from horse camp goes to a school in Maine. Or I could go someplace else—somewhere I’m a complete stranger.”
“. . . want to get a handle on the subway, too, so I’m not totally lost the first day . . .”
The Whirlpool started its spin slowly. At first we only went in one big circle, but after a full revolution our cars started turning. The bar across my lap and Diana’s creaked.
“You want to leave me here,” I said.
“Oh, Kay. That’s not it. I want to see what it’s like on my own.”
The doubly spinning cars lifted up and down, metal groaning. Behind me and all around me as we spun, I heard Ari shriek.
“Say you won’t leave me,” I said quickly. I could swear the safety bar lifted; I kept a grip on it, pushing it down.
“What?” Diana shouted. Our car shook; the safety bar rattled. I grabbed Diana’s hand. It would be so easy for a screw to loosen, for the pothead at the controls to drift off, for springs to rust and break, for electric wires to fray. I’d walked Ari and Diana right onto a machine that could do so much more damage than what a cooler on a beach did to Diana’s face.
“You need to say you won’t leave!” I shouted.
“We can’t get out of the car, the ride’s already started!”
I couldn’t keep my eyes focused on her; the ride moved too fast. All I could see was red hair and blue sky and bright lights, and the unnaturally loud creaks of the metal as the machine reached its highest speed. “Just say it! Say you won’t leave me!”
“Okay, jeez! I won’t leave you.”
I let go of her hand and closed my eyes. The ride spun and spun.
For the moment I didn’t feel unhooked from my feelings. I was too scared.
It might have been irrational, but I had the strong, clear feeling that if Diana and Ari had kept talking about their plans, the spell might’ve hurt them to keep them here with me.
After we got off the ride, no one seemed to notice anything had changed. I watched Ari and Diana and Cal being themselves, unaware how close they’d come.
It was one thing for the spell to bring me regular doses of Ari and Diana. I wanted to protect them. I cared about them, and they used to care about me. I would be there for them no matter what. But Cal . . . he had never really wanted to be near me. The spell had given him more than a gentle nudge—it shoved with both hands.
The thought rattled me. I’d saved Diana and Ari on the Whirlpool, and I’d always save them because we were best friends, but Cal was different. I mean, for one thing, he was clumsy: it would make it almost too easy for the spell. He’d fall one day, really hurt himself, and it would be my fault for not wanting to hang out with him. But more importantly, I didn’t even like him that much, and Ari and Diana seemed totally unimpressed that I’d managed to “date” him, whatever that meant. It had been an impulsive, stupid idea to give him the hook. Now I was stuck with the responsibility.
The next day when he called at two thirty in the morning, I barely spoke.
He talked about nothing for a while until eventually noticing I wasn’t responding. “Is something the matter?” he asked.
“Yes,” I started to say, but I couldn’t tell him the truth. That he was in some sort of nebulous, ever-present danger because of me. That he wasn’t in control of what he was doing. I couldn’t risk the spell snapping and doling out punishment.
I had to keep answering the phone in the middle of the night. I had to keep hanging out at the hardware store watching him knock over displays of bug spray and step on rakes. I had to keep doing what he thought he wanted to do. What the spell thought I wanted to do. What neither of us needed or wanted at all.
I’ve never apologized to a girl as much as I had to apologize to Diana. Not because she was mad at me—she wasn’t—but because I didn’t stop feeling bad.
“I’m sorry again. I don’t know what was wrong with me. I was such a dick.”