She turns around. “Yeah?”
“The wider open the heart, the easier it is for Cupid to shoot his arrows.”
She cocks her head to one side, then gives me a baffled smile. “Okay, thanks.”
Instead of the parking lot, I follow those ambling toward the street.
“Mim?” says a voice from behind me. Court, still wearing his uniform and bright with the flush of victory, steps into the fluorescent lighting.
There are no mood scents to guide me, but there’s a bouncing energy around him, a liveliness like a puppy who has found its favorite kid. My insides spin with his nearness. “W-what, don’t you have a debrief or something?”
“The debrief went something like this, “Nice footwork, you clowns. Don’t be late to practice on Monday.”
“That was an amazing kick.”
“Thanks, though you better spray Whit before I get jealous.” From behind him, a couple of girls whisper and giggle.
I chew on my lip. I can’t spray anybody until Mother returns and makes the BBG. Of course, by then, I won’t need to because Mother will have exiled me to the far reaches of the Arctic Circle.
I need to tell him the truth at last. But before I can muster the words or the courage, he grabs my hand. “Let’s get lost.”
We dash back toward the stadium, through exiting stragglers, and over litter and pulled-down posters. A few fans try to stop us, but we run past them.
When I’m out of breath, Court pulls me to a dark spot underneath the bleachers.
“The PUF didn’t work,” I gasp.
“For sure?”
“Yeah, for sure.”
He looks more surprised than worried. “So what’s next?”
“My mother will be home soon. I’m in way over my head.” I stare glumly at my shoes.
“Hey, don’t feel bad. You know, it’s not so bad, Mom being in love. She’s been laughing a lot this week. And Mr. Frederics is kind of cool. He bought every one of her pies at the rally this morning. Maybe the PUF didn’t work for a reason.”
Yes, the loss of my nose.
He tucks me into his arms. “You don’t have any excuse not to kiss me now that the game’s over.”
My resolve weakens with one glance into the still waters of his eyes. One little kiss. I already lost my nose, and I may as well enjoy myself while I can. It’s his big night after all.
I draw back. No. I can’t do that. A kiss would just dig me deeper in the hole, further strengthening a bond that should never have formed. I already made my choice—nose over love. If I can sever our tie, maybe Mother can make an elixir for me like she did for Aunt Bryony. I tear myself away. “I can’t.” The two words weigh heavy as cement blocks.
“What are you talking about?”
He comes close again, but I hold up my hands. “You don’t like me that way. You think you do, but so do the rest of the people I infect.”
His face is half-smiling, half-disbelieving, as if waiting for me to deliver a punch line. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying you should forget about me.”
A look of pain washes over his face, and then quickly disappears, leaving me with no clue as to what he’s thinking. Straightening his throat, he focuses on a wad of neon-green gum on the pavement. I push the knife in further, so there is no going back. “I mean—it’s been fun.”
“Wow,” he says, clearly not meaning the gum.
My heart feels like it’s about to collapse into a black hole, pulling the rest of me along with it. Who knew heartbreak was a literal thing? Court’s eyelashes dip toward my hands, which are wringing themselves dry.
A familiar laugh sounds from above, followed by voices growing louder with each footfall on the metal grating of the bleachers. We both look up. Vicky and Melanie pause just a few feet above Court’s head. I freeze, though it’s too dark for them to see us below them.
“Whit totally lost it. At least now everyone will know she puts spells on guys. Love witch,” Vicky spits. “She’s an attention-whore.”
“I know,” says Melanie.
“And you know what? I practically threw myself at Court yesterday and he completely ignored me. Like I was wallpaper. You sure you gave him the elixir?”
My heart screeches to a stop. Court quirks an eyebrow at me, and I want to seep into the earth.
“Of course I did,” says Melanie, halting. “You were there. You saw me drop it in his drink.”
I cringe. Court stares into the shadows, not looking at me.
“Why is it taking so damn long for him to fall back in love with me? The situation is making me crazy. I nearly asked Drew Reaver to the dance this morning. I mean, Drew Reaver?”
Reaver Fever. She definitely caught it.
Melanie doesn’t answer. The sole of her shoes twists back and forth on the grate. Finally, she says in a voice so quiet it’s nearly drowned out by the drone of the stadium stragglers, “Have you ever thought, maybe you and Court aren’t meant to, you know . . .”
“No, I don’t know. Please enlighten me.” Vicky’s voice turns icy.
“I’m sorry, Vicky. I just think when you have to try so hard, maybe it’s not meant to be.”