“Yes, I’m totally gross. I can’t fit into my favorite jeans anymore. Anyway, you want to come?”
I’m stuck between wondering why someone who seems to have her act together could think herself gross, and the realization that she’s asking me to hang out. Like a normal person. “I’d love to, but I can’t today.” Someone finally seeks my friendship and I have to reverse an elixir. “Maybe next time?”
Her bracketed smile sags. “Sure. See you around.”
My head throbs by the time I pass through a double door with the sunburst design that leads into the main courtyard. I trudge down interlocking cement tiles, looking for Kali. I haven’t seen her all day since we don’t have Cardio on Mondays. She’s probably already scooping the goop. Kali works harder than any teenager I know, probably even me. She’s saving up to be the first person in her family to attend college—a fancy creative writing program on the East Coast.
Through the library windows, I make out Ms. DiCarlo standing on a ladder, using a ruler to position the books into straight lines on the shelves. She glimpses me watching her and waves.
I halfheartedly wave back. If she only knew how my carelessness robbed her of a soul mate, she wouldn’t be smiling like that. How can a nice librarian compete with an ex-model with money and a vivacious personality? If Mr. Frederics has any romantic interest in Alice, the elixir will send those feelings into orbit, eclipsing the ones he has for Ms. DiCarlo.
A fresh zing of anxiety courses through me, making my heart pound in time with my head. After the cake incident, it’s imperative to keep Alice and Mr. Frederics apart until I can unfix her. If only there was a way to keep them busy, one or the other.
I pace in a circle and stop. Court could keep his mother busy, too busy to see Mr. Frederics. Maybe he could convince her to go on vacation, or sign her up for some classes. He’ll want to keep his mom out of trouble as much as I do. Technically, aromateurs “may not solicit nor accept the assistance of nonaromateurs in the creation of elixirs,” but Kali helps us with the gardening. Surely, asking Court to run interference counts less than that.
Briskly, I walk toward the last lunch table, where the soccer players hang out, trying not to worry about how angry Court will be when he finds out what I’ve done, especially after confiding to me about his mom. The seeds of his admiration for me will wither and die, assuming there were seeds at all.
Whit Wu, Court’s best friend, sprawls out in the space Court usually occupies, mowing down a slice of pizza. As everyone falls quiet and the mothball scent of suspicion spreads like poison gas, Whit finally notices me. His head jerks back and his black eyes go wide.
“Hi,” I say. “I was just wondering if you knew where Court was?”
Whispering starts up, and I catch the words “candy grams.”
Whit’s throat bunches as food travels down the pipe. “Why do you want to know?” Casually, he flips back his black hair. It falls in waves around his broad shoulders. Despite his cool, I can smell his alarm at being accosted by the love witch. It smells like freezer burn.
“Maybe she wants to put a spell on him,” someone cracks.
I ignore the jokers and address Whit. “I just need to talk to him. It’s important.”
“Why? Is there a love emergency?”
Everyone laughs. A slip of a girl scoots farther down her bench away from me, and a curtain of hair with purple highlights falls into her face. I recognize her as one of Vicky’s friends and mentally kick myself for approaching this crowd. Half of Court’s friends are Vicky’s as well. If Vicky didn’t already have enough reasons to dislike me, I think I just found her a new one. The girl casts me a suspicious eye, and moves her Tupperware farther from me, too.
Better to just make a quick and, hopefully, forgettable exit. Jaw clenched, I hurry away.
Court could be anywhere. Maybe he stayed after class. Or maybe . . .
I pull the brim of my bucket hat farther down to shade my eyes and hurry to the field. A lone figure sits with his back against the mulberry tree.
As I tread across the grass, a light breeze fills my nose with the chive-y smell of Jupiter grass. I will need to harvest some for Alice’s elixir. At least that one won’t require a field trip.
Number ten watches me slog toward him. I don’t detect burning tires, or any of the other negative emotions. In fact, the happy smell of orange blossoms caresses my nostrils, carried by a southern breeze. He must not have heard about his mother’s odd behavior yet. I’ll just have to serve the truth, straight up, then move quickly to solutions.
The sleeves of his jersey are pushed up to his shoulders, showing the trace of a tan line on his bronzed biceps. “Was hoping to find you here. Guess you found me.” The corners of his mouth budge upward.