Kali’s wide nostrils flare and her mouth tightens, as if she’s trying to keep her tongue from letting loose. I jerk my head toward one of the orange cones. “Team Four.”
Vicky picks her way across the grass toward the cone.
“Psh.” Kali lobs her gaze to the sky. “So did you fix Alice?”
“I ran into some complications.”
“What complications?”
“I lost my nose,” I say in a tight voice.
“Looks like it’s still there to me.”
I shake my head, forcing my tears back into their corners. “I’m toast.”
“Hey, it’s gonna be okay,” Kali bumps my arm with hers, and I’m so grateful for her sympathy, I nearly lose it.
“Oh, great, Kali, you made it.” Hope with the blond crew cut holds out a megaphone to her.
“Talofa. Sorry I’m late.”
“Let me show you the buttons.” Hope leads Kali to an adjacent table. The two consult while I regain my composure.
“Did I miss anything?” In front of me, Drew runs a hand through his blond hair.
“Oh, hello.” A pang of guilt hits me again at his guileless face, with his blue eyes enlarged by his glasses and his clear skin. “You’re with your friend Parker, Team Seventeen. Grab a shirt.”
Drew gamely pulls the Day-Glo tee over his black ensemble. He shades his eyes as he scans the field for his friend. “Wait. Can I be with her?”
My eyes travel to where he’s pointing. Fifty feet toward the school, Vicky clutches her purse like she’s on a New York City subway. Before I can reply, Drew skips away. The chain linking his pants to his wallet slaps him on the back of his thigh with each stride. Kali notices, and frowns at me.
I smash my clipboard to my chest. If I had it to do over again, would I choose differently? Undecided. Vicky might be a shark out of water right now, but once we get off the field, Kali’s chum number one. Kali deserves to live her life on her own terms.
A cloud passes over the sun, and the change in temperature chills my skin. In some way, I feel responsible for Kali’s predicament. If I hadn’t come to school, Vicky would not have seen an opportunity in me. I’m like a strange magnet whose very presence seems to screw with people’s compasses, shifting them in new directions. I couldn’t have foreseen the trouble I would cause here. But it doesn’t erase any of my guilt.
A bus rumbles onto the field, then parks. The happy faces of dozens of kids stare out the windows.
Kali fiddles with the megaphone, then holds it to her mouth. “Sup, everyone.” Her friendly voice booms across the field. “We’re makin’ Thanksgiving baskets with the kids. Teach ’em about veggies, like radishes and sh—”
The principal clears her throat loudly and gives Kali a severe look.
“Shit-ake mushrooms,” Kali corrects. Everyone laughs. “Stay with your kids at all times, and don’t squeeze the tomatoes.”
The bus door opens with a metallic gasp. Moments later, the kids burst out and run to their cones. The energy and noise level shoots up by a factor of ten.
Kali turns off her megaphone and heads back to me. “So how’d it happen?”
“I fell in love with Court Sawyer.”
She snorts. “I coulda told you that.” Her ironic expression fades when she sees my face. “Look, you’re still you without your nose, right?”
“I don’t know.” I sniff. “My smell started fading, and now it’s gone completely.”
“After all that work you put it through, maybe it’s on vacation.”
“Noses don’t take vacations.”
“Well, maybe they should.”
“How am I going to mix if I can’t smell?”
“What did you do when you didn’t prepare for a choreography for Cardio class?”
“I don’t know, blew it off?”
“Nope.” She pokes my shoulder. “You sweated it. You didn’t give any excuses, you just powered through the routine, grapevines and everything, and you got a B plus.”
“Thanks. But there are no grades here. It’s either pass or fail.”
Vicky stands apart from her group, nervously picking at her sleeves. Drew pulls three onions from his basket and begins a juggling act. His kids bounce up and down. Kali watches, then turns her back to them, as if she can’t bear to look any longer.
“So what if you’re wrong? Alice ain’t gonna sprout an extra head.” Kali cocks an eyebrow. “Is she?”
“No.”
“You going to tell Court?”
I shake my head. “What’s the point? Mother would never let us date, even if he did save my life.”
“Your life?”
“It’s a long story.”
“Okay.” Her lips press together, then unstick with a smacking sound. “You go home and work on the elixir. I can handle things here.”
“Thanks, but I still want to hear about your earthworms.”
She shakes her head. “Not today.”
I can’t tell if she’s brushing me off, or just looking out for my time. “Good luck tonight.”
“Same to you.” She blinks, but her face remains unreadable. Without another word, my only friend moves toward a group of kids throwing grapes at one another.