by D. R. Perry
"My mum would call that ‘alfresco.’" He stared at the sidewalk. "Her favorite place to take holidays is in Italy.
"You must miss her."
"Yeah. I haven't seen her in over a year, Aliyah."
"I can't even imagine."
As we walked, I'd edged closer to him, so I dropped my hand beside his.
"I hope it stays that way for you."
He put some distance between us as we turned the corner on Hawthorne Street. We walked the rest of the way in silence, turning up the driveway behind Izzy's house toward 10-1/2. Around the back, we headed through the gate. The corner of the yard with the hole in the fence was currently occupied by a pile of lumber with canvas folded on top.
"That's it." I pointed.
"You only invited me so there'd be another tall person to hold those beams up, right?" He raised an eyebrow, but his eyes brightened.
"That might be among the many reasons, yes." I smiled, covering my hands’ shaking. "Mostly I wanted to share a holiday with you. I know that sounds kind of sappy, but it's the truth."
"Right then." He cleared his throat. "How does this thing go together?"
"According to the instructions, of course." My dad stepped out from the back door, waving a piece of paper. "Which I happen to have right here."
Dad spent time with Dylan going over the directions, which weren't complicated. But my father believed in reading the manual. They took long enough that Noah finally showed up. Mom and Bubbe came out to the backyard, bringing a few critters to play in the exercise runs. After that, we all took part in setting up the sukkah.
Once we'd erected the frame, we took a break. Bubbe invited us in for iced tea. I helped her bring the critters back in, and we all stood around in her small kitchen with our beverages. She had a collection of arts and crafts supplies, which Noah, Dylan, and I worked with after the adults left the room with their tea.
"Are your holidays all kind of separated into the adults’ table and the kids’ table?"
"A little bit," said Noah. "It's more like they leave the fun stuff for us to do."
"Yeah, especially on Sukkot." I grinned, reaching for a container of glitter glue.
"It seems like a lot of work," Dylan said.
"It's a bit of a scramble before sundown, that's true." Noah nodded. "But we don’t have to do anything after that besides hang out and eat."
"Will it be like Thanksgiving dinner again?" Dylan glanced over his shoulder at the oven behind him, his stomach growling.
"No, no turkey or any of that." I pointed at the oven. "But if my nose is not mistaken, Bubbe’s got challah bread in there. We'll have that, along with some other dinner stuff."
"I wish Logan was here." Dylan sighed. "I feel like I've barely spent any time with him besides sleeping and getting ready for class in the morning."
Like you and Grace, but don’t turn him into Gloomy McGloomypants by bringing her up.
"You guys are busy." Noah shrugged. "That happens in the second year. Everything's hectic for you guys, and extramurals are just another time sink."
"I asked Logan, but he doesn't want to leave campus. I think he's scared of his parents." I added a strip of glittery construction paper to a paper chain. "Azrael talked to his aunt. The Salem police won't bother him."
"Yeah, he knows." Dylan nodded. "But he's worried, almost paranoid. He has nightmares about them hiring people to cart him off to the airport."
Noah snorted. "That's ridiculous."
"It seems like that to us." It took a lot of effort not to snap at him. "But Logan's fear is valid. His parents are downright scary."
"Elanor’s afraid of them too, but it's still ridiculous." Noah shook his head. "Not his feelings, the situation. I'll talk to him tomorrow. Maybe he'll come over in a large enough group. I know we're just students, but a throng of us can protect him from jerks in a van."
"That's a good idea." Dylan nodded. "This is done." He held up a paper chain. "What else should I make?"
"Whatever you want, I guess." Noah tapped a stack of brown paper. "How about guitars?"
"That's okay?"
"Yeah, we decorate with whatever’s important to us that year." I nodded. "Last year, I put up a bunch of paper dragonets. I'd show you one, but they all got ruined in the rain."
He went to work cutting guitar shapes out of brown paper. The stove’s timer buzzed, so I got up to take the bread out of the oven.
Moments later, Bubbe shooed us out of her kitchen. We'd finished enough decorations, so we went outside to help Dad put the fronds on top of the sukkah and hang our crafts on the walls inside.
After that, Noah and Dylan went upstairs. Through the window, we heard Noah singing along with Dylan's guitar. They played the same ten bars of music over and over with pauses in between, practicing a song I didn't recognize.
I helped get ready for dinner, but there wasn't much left to do. With most of the preparation done, all that remained was taking things out of ovens and letting them cool. The doorbell rang. Izzy and Cadence had brought Lee along with them.
As the sun set, we gathered in the backyard. Izzy and Cadence had seen all of this before, but Lee and Dylan hadn't.
"What's this one about?" Lee asked.
"We’re celebrating how we survived in the wilderness after escaping Egypt," I answered. "This holiday lasts all week."
"Should be forty days since Moses got lost leading us around out there," Noah said.
"That's before he got those ten commandments, right?" Cadence said, "And before Google maps."
"You remembered." Noah grinned.
"So, now what?" asked Dylan.
"Mom and Dad are going to wave the four species, while Bubbe says a prayer."
"Four species? Is that like critters or something?" Lee raised an eyebrow. “How do you wave a mercat?”
"They’re plants. We've got palm leaves, myrtle leaves, willow leaves, and citrus fruit."
"And after that, we can eat, I hope?" Dylan's stomach rumbled.
Everybody laughed. His smile reminded me of the ones on his face last year, definitely an improvement in his mood. Maybe music helped him cope or being off campus for a while did him good.
We all helped bring dinner downstairs. I had Bubbe's challah with raisins, dipped in honey. Also kreplach, stuffed dumplings like pierogis but with chicken instead of potatoes.
After dinner, Cadence and Izzy headed back to campus with Lee. Dylan lingered, bringing his guitar out and raising an eyebrow at Noah.
"Yeah, I think I'm ready to show it off." He went back inside and fetched his bass.
"Okay, one two three."
They did Go Your Own Way by Fleetwood Mac. Noah sounded like Lindsey Buckingham, too.
"You want to perform that in the talent show," Mom guessed.
"Something like that." Noah grinned. "It's not just us, though. Our band hasn’t landed on the right song."
"That's awesome." I smiled.
"At least I’m not suspended from extracurriculars anymore." Dylan shrugged. “Only probation.”
"Probation-smobation." Noah snorted.
"You’re in the same boat as me." I nodded. "Plain old trouble."
Mom picked up a stack of dirty dishes and started walking toward the house.
"Hey, I wanted to thank you guys for inviting me over. And everything else, too." Dylan stared down at the guitar. "I really needed some time away."
"Did you want to stay over?" asked Bubbe. "If you don’t want to sleep out here, I've got space in my office."
"No, thanks. I've got to work before breakfast tomorrow." Dylan sighed. "Can't make my nights too late."
"Do you want me to walk you back?" Noah asked.
"No, I'll be all right. My feet know the way."
He packed the guitar into the library's battered case, and we escorted him through the gate together.
On warm enough nights, Noah and I slept in the sukkah. Because the New England weather was unpredictable, we got our sleeping bags. Mom
and Dad said good night to us on our way out, but Bubbe sat outside on one of the folding chairs, staring at the stars.
"I'll get out of your way," she said.
We protested, letting her know she was welcome, but our grandmother must've had other things on her mind. She went inside after bidding us good night. We settled down in the Sukkah, moving the table and chairs and unrolling our sleeping bags in the newly cleared space.
I lay there, holding Great Uncle Noah's Shema Yisrael pendant between my fingers. It reminded me of the letters he'd written to his boyfriend, the ones Bubbe said I should share with Noah. I hadn't gotten a chance to look at them.
"Do you think we're in over our heads?" Noah stared at the fronds above his head.
"Absolutely, and we'll drown if we're not careful."
"Why?" He turned his head, so I did likewise to meet his gaze. "Just last week, you seemed the epitome of confident."
"If I tell you something, can you keep it secret? You might talk to Dylan about it, but nobody else."
"It's been ages since you've shared secrets with me, Aliyah. Sure. Go ahead."
I told him in vivid detail about the extramagus test. Probably I shouldn't have because the horror reflected on his face hit me like a sucker punch, but nobody can untell a story.
"So, that's why you fought so hard against Mom and Bubbe on Yom Kippur." He stared.
"Yeah." I closed my eyes, the tears I’d held back finally rolling down my face.
"I don't blame you, not one bit." He wiped them away.
"I'm sorry." I sniffled, opening my eyes.
"Why?" His face was blotchy, eyes bright.
"Neither of us will sleep well."
"Sleep’s inevitable once you're tired enough." He sighed, gazing at the roof made of fronds. "I'm glad you told me. That's not the kind of thing to keep bottled up."
"I’ve learned that’s how it is for extramagi—tucking all kinds of horrifying things into neat little boxes so we don't disturb anyone. Meanwhile, they’re either jealous of our extra elements or afraid we'll go off the deep end."
"Aliyah, I'll never do the latter, but I'm guilty of the former." A gleaming line formed from the corner of his eye to one of his sideburns.
I couldn't decide how to respond. My brother’s honesty wavered when it came to his shortcomings. Offering sympathy in this sukkah that symbolized nights spent in the wilderness was nothing short of miraculous to me.
There was one thing you could always say.
"Nobody's perfect. And thanks, Noah."
I don't know when he fell asleep because it was after I did. When I woke to the sun’s first light and birdsong in the mulberry tree, he'd already left.
Before heading back to campus, I grabbed the box with Great-Uncle Noah’s letters and tucked them into my backpack. I'd be more likely to read them if they were on campus with me.
Chapter Seventeen
Our project progressed with little trouble. The others, not so much.
Hal's group worked on a magical toggle, something to turn lights off and on or open and close taps. He just barely managed to lead them via his knack for endearment. Having Bar on the team and backing his leadership helped, but the pair of snooty clairvoyants from Messing wasn’t happy with his diminished magical ability. Kitty stuck up for him, but the clairvoyants dismissed her. Izzy said they thought she was “too mainstream," whatever that meant.
Lee, Dylan, Grace, and Azrael had to work with Dorian, who didn't contribute much. If it weren't for Lee and Keisha, the telepath from Messing, they wouldn't have kept the peace long enough to complete their refrigeration unit.
Noah worked with Elanor, Jonah, Crow, and Arick. They got along for the most part, though Crow's aloofness clashed with the otherwise gregarious crew. He also got distracted easily, and none of the others could keep him on task. Their project was one of the most demanding, a full-season carbon-free fuel for a magical space heater.
Logan's team technically had it easy with their magical water wheel, but they had to work with Alex and Temperance. Lena was in his group too, and Logan ended up doing most of the spellwork with her. The bear shifter and the telekinetic psychic on their team spent most of their time looking bewildered and lifting the heavy parts.
As the week drew to a close, we all scrambled. The devices were only one part of the projects. We'd have to compile data, write reports, and make everything in our display fit on top of a six-by-two foot table, so of course, everyone wanted the lab work done by Friday.
I crunched our numbers, and Brianna wrote all the text in the report. She had the best handwriting, like a scientist’s. Despite her obvious ability, she had Cadence proofread it on Monday night.
"This is great work!" Cadence smiled.
"Thanks." Brianna grinned back.
"You just need to check the punctuation with someone else, because that's my weak point." She tapped an Oxford comma. "I'm not sure whether this should be here or not."
"I'll bring it to the library." I held my hand out for the notebook.
Brianna handed it over, turning to leave the lounge. Cadence cleared her throat and raised an eyebrow at her.
"Can I go with you?" Brianna asked.
"Sure, why not?"
We headed into the academic wing and down the hall. I was about to push the library doors open, but Brianna put her hand out, stopping me.
"Um, wait a minute." Her face was red and flushed as though we'd been at Bishop's Row practice instead of walking down a hallway.
"All right."
Eventually, she composed herself. Brianna took a deep breath and opened her mouth but closed it again and shook her head. Ember peeped at her from my shoulder.
Where have you seen this before, I wonder?
"Logan. Oops." I winced. "My inside voice jumps out sometimes."
"No, no, I understand. Are you two a thing?"
"We're not. He's got an enormous crush on someone else right now."
"Oh, okay then. Well."
"Well?"
"There's a dance. In December. The December Dance.” She cleared her throat. “Do you have a date yet?"
"Oh!" I blinked. "Well, no. But, Bri—"
"So, do you want to go? With me, I mean. I won't be upset if you say no. Not everyone who’s queer likes girls."
"I’m not sure if I’m queer, and I like you as a friend, but last time I had an actual date for something, it was a disaster."
"Well, maybe we should organize a stag group."
"Yeah, that'd be awesome. I bet Izzy would be down with that. Lee, too. And if Logan doesn't get his date…"
"Who's he asking?"
"He's probably hoping to get asked. Logan's super-awkward about stuff like that."
"Peep," Ember agreed.
"Me too, Ember." She laughed, her posture and expression more relaxed and easier than I'd seen in a while. "I guess it's library time."
She opened the door and we went inside, where all the grammar and style handbooks we could ever want waited for us.
That night, I walked into the cafeteria intending to chat with Logan and encourage him to ask Dorian to the dance, but he sidetracked me.
"Aliyah, have you heard anything about who poisoned Clementine?"
"What?"
"From Bubbe, I mean."
"No. She hasn't said anything."
"Have you asked her?"
"I haven’t." I shook my head, the pit of my stomach dropping as my head got fuzzy and far away. "I feel horrible about it, too."
"You've had other things going on, what with getting pulled out of class and the holiday." He sighed. "But something new happened."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. Lena said she’s afraid of getting in trouble about Clementine."
"So that's why she was crying." My hands curled into fists. "She was in the infirmary with us that afternoon. She couldn't have done it."
"Temperance is threatening her anyway. Said she'd get her expelled."
"Where are they?"
I stood up.
"Not here." He grabbed my wrist. "Tempe left almost a half-hour ago, but Lena's in the corner with a book."
"I should talk to her." I pulled away and Logan looked past me, a pleading look in his eyes.
"Whoa there, Morgenstern." Dorian shook his head, stepping between me and the rest of the room.
"Sorry, Dorian. Gotta go."
"Not yet." He put a hand on my shoulder, as gentle and soft as the first snowflakes.
"It's important."
"Wait a minute." He sighed. "Please?"
"Okay." I waved at the empty chair beside Logan at the table and got back in my seat. "Step into our office."
Ember fluttered down to the table, peeping softly at Mercy and the gryphon cocked her head, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Dorian ignored his familiar's discomfort. He turned the chair around and sat down, grinning. Logan nearly melted, but Dorian didn't notice. He stared at me.
Oh, no. Not another inconvenient admirer.
"What are your plans for the December Dance?"
He's smoother than the girl, at least.
Logan stood up and ran out of the cafeteria before I could do or say anything to stop him. Faster than he ever moved on the track in Gym, too.
"Dorian." I groaned. "He likes you, you idiot."
"What?"
"You heard me."
"Impossible. Logan’s out of my league."
"Thanks."
"I didn't mean it that way. So, the dance?"
"I’m going stag." I pointed toward the door Logan left by. "Ask him!"
"Oh. Right!" Dorian got up and bolted.
I put my head down on my arms, unable to look at Logan's half-empty tray and my nearly full one. I'd clean them up, of course, but I just didn't have the heart at that moment. Ember peeped softly, then climbed on my back and settled against my neck.
"Aliyah Morgenstern?"
"If it's about the December Dance, I'm going stag," I mumbled.
"It's not."
I looked up too far because the person beside the table was almost as short as Hal had been last year. After lowering my gaze, I saw a boy with Dorian's coloring and high cheekbones, but he had a wiry sturdiness my friend did not possess. Then I recognized him.
"Cosmo. From the beach. You're the cat shifter with Blaine Harcourt."