“I take it that means you talked to Devon?” said Jenah.
“Cleared everything up,” I said, grinning. I pulled out the book Sarmine had given me and opened it up to the Showstopper spell.
Jenah ate a bite of her curry. “How did he take knowing that he was one of the victims?”
“He did not threaten to turn me into a solar panel,” I said.
Jenah raised her eyebrows. “That’s good.”
“Or actually turn my hands into noodles. Or actually roll me up in a pumpkin patch. Or actually drop me off the roof of the house, shouting at me to ‘work the wing spell’ on the way down.”
“You have made some good strides today,” said Jenah. “See you back on my couch next Tuesday.”
A tray plopped down next to us, and a girl with it. Henny. She was in her same uniform of all black, but her face was wreathed in smiles.
“You look happy,” I said. I got out a piece of scratch paper and a pen to work through the Showstopper spell.
“Today has been epic,” said Henny. “Epic!”
“Spill,” said Jenah.
“So I posted my Esmerelda drawing on all my social media last night,” Henny said. “And this morning I have so many likes and hearts and shares, you don’t even know. All the girls that wanted her brought down loved it—and even the guys thought it was funny, too. It’s the highest ranked of any of my ‘Pathetic Love Life’ strips, by far.”
“That’s amazing,” said Jenah. “Are you going to do more?”
“I spent all morning on them,” said Henny. “Doodling and thinking up ideas my first couple classes. So look, I’m going to change Henny’s name, so it’s clear it isn’t me. Get a new name for the strip, in case it goes big. I promise, there will be no identifying details linking back to you, okay?”
“But writing about witches?” I said dubiously. It seemed awfully close.
“Oh, no,” Henny promised. “Superheroes. Totally different subgenre. The Esmerelda witch character will die with the Henny strips.”
“Too bad it’s not that easy to vanquish her,” I said. “Write her out of your life.”
“Oh, but it is that easy,” said Henny. “During art I ignored Esmerelda and sat there sketching the whole period. Occasionally someone else would share the picture around on social media and then laughter would burst out but it was never me! I was innocent. She was so mad, guys. But I mean, what was she going to do, turn me into a toad in front of everybody? And then, I just smiled at her whenever she said anything mean—thank you for that tip, Jenah.”
“You’re welcome,” said Jenah. “And thank you for sending that bodyguard second hour to protect me.”
Henny lit up. “She works for my grandmother,” she said. “She’s used to going undercover.”
“Well, she stopped Valda from dropping the free weights on me in gym,” said Jenah.
“Wait, hold up,” I said. “Why does your grandmother have bodyguards?”
They looked at me in the same way as when I admitted I didn’t know who Leo was. I was beginning to feel pretty out of it.
“Uh, she’s our governor?” said Jenah.
I shook the cobwebs out of my head. “You’re related to Maria Santiago?”
Henny ticked off on her fingers. “Some people don’t like that she’s a woman. Some people don’t like that she’s Hispanic. Some people don’t like that she’s Catholic or that she likes watching basketball or the way she does her hair and sometimes, every so often, some people disagree with her on actual matters of policy. So yeah, bodyguards.”
“And the bodyguard rocks,” said Jenah. She pointed to someone who looked like an ordinary—but very fit—teenage girl, in black jeans and shirt, prowling the perimeter of the cafeteria. “I told her this was one of Valda’s favorite places to strike, and she should keep her nose peeled for a cigarette smell.”
As we watched, a short, dumpy woman in a lunch lady’s uniform emerged from the door to the kitchen. She was carrying a large pot in gloved hands.
I stood up. “Jenah, she’s coming this way. I bet that’s like, boiling tomato sauce or something.”
Jenah tugged me back down. “Just watch,” she said.
Valda had barely made it past the first table when the bodyguard was suddenly there, blocking her path. A short, heated exchange—
And then somehow Valda was on the floor with a pot of water turned upside down on her head. A great howling emerged from under the pot. A student lifted it off to reveal three lobsters clinging to Valda’s face. One of them had firmly crunched her glasses. Another was crunching her nose. The bodyguard had melted away, back into the crowds.
“What did I say?” crowed Jenah.
“She’s good,” I admitted.
“If only the cafeteria served lobster,” Henny said wistfully.
“But can she be trusted?” I said.
Henny raised her hands. “I swear I did not once say the word witches. I asked my grandmother if I could borrow her to do a routine inspection of my space. So she’s here for one school day only, but I figured one day was better than nothing.”
“It is,” Jenah assured her.
“Teamwork is amazing,” I said. “Who knew?”
“Everyone but you,” said Jenah with a grin.
“So look,” I said. I was working out the Showstopper spell with one hand and eating a sandwich with the other. “I need your guys’ help at the game tomorrow night. I’m sure Malkin is going to try something there.”
“Like what do you think?” said Jenah.
“For starters, attacking Devon again,” I said, pointing to the spell I was deciphering. “But Showstopper gives him unbeatable charisma. It should counteract anything Malkin tries to do to his performance, short of dropping a piano on his head. He’ll be armed and ready.”
“You know, if we all know that people are deliberately trying to make us miserable, it seems like it should be pretty hard for any of the witches to win,” Jenah said.
“True,” I said.
“Like you can’t be gaslighted if you know someone’s doing it,” Jenah said.
“Gaslighted?” I said. I crossed out the part of the spell about the cup of dirt. Good to know I hadn’t given dirt to Devon.
“If someone tries to tell you your own experiences aren’t true,” Jenah explained.
“Ah, like the witch thought I should tell Henny, ‘No, you didn’t see us clean Jenah’s jeans.’”
“She said what?” said Henny.
“You should put that on your ethics list,” said Jenah. “No gaslighting.”
“We need a Good Witches Oath,” I said.
“‘On my honor I will try…’” quoted Henny.
“To be brave, ethical and true to my friends,” said Jenah.
“And have lots of gumption,” I finished. I glanced up at Henny. “Speaking of gumption … have you made progress on asking anyone out?”
She flushed, and toyed with her sandwich. “I don’t know,” she said. “I mean, no, not really. I mean, I was busy doing my comics all morning and it hasn’t come up.”
“Which is perfectly fine,” assured Jenah.
But I was still excited by how my convo with Devon had gone and I wanted to share the happiness. I set my pen down on my spell. “Let’s find someone for you to ask out right now.”
“I don’t…” Henny demurred. “I mean, I’m still getting over Leo, and I—”
“Look, there’s my friend Kelvin,” I said. He was sitting with a rather weedy-looking kid down at the far end of our table. “He also likes geeky things. I could introduce you two.”
“No, I…”
But I was already standing, gesturing to Henny. I knew how to keep her on track. “Show your readers some gumption,” I said cheerfully. “Or I’ll turn you into a newt.”
Reluctantly she followed me down to the end of the table.
“Hi, guys,” I said. “We were just on our way to get some, uh, napkins. And I wondered if you two knew each
other.” Terrible but enthusiastic, that’s me.
Kelvin looked at the boy sitting opposite him, carrot stick half in, half out of his mouth. “Rajesh and I have known each other since fourth grade,” he said.
“I meant, I wanted to introduce you to my friend Henny,” I said, gesturing to the girl standing stiffly at my side. “I thought you guys should meet because you’re both, like, geeks, and stuff.”
They eyed each other.
“Who’s your favorite Clue character?” shot off Kelvin.
Henny rolled her eyes. “I haven’t played that since I was seven. What’s your favorite Ghibli movie?”
“Boring,” said Kelvin. “If you could be a Star Wars character from the original trilogy, who would you be?”
“All the best characters in those movies are dudes,” returned Henny, “except Leia, and I refuse to be objectified in a metal bikini.”
Maybe this wasn’t going to be as easy as I thought. “Okay, so you might not have the same, whatchamacallits—”
“Fandoms,” they said in unison.
“—but I still thought you might get along.”
Henny shifted from foot to foot. “I have to get to the computer lab before lunch is over,” she said. “It, uh, was nice to meet you guys.” She turned and fled.
I guess I hadn’t done that very well at all. “Well, uh. Sorry to bother you,” I said to the boys. “Nice to meet you, Rajesh.”
“I like Studio Ghibli,” offered Rajesh.
I trudged back to my spot at the table. Henny had taken her things and vanished.
Jenah was in tears of laughter.
“Not funny,” I muttered.
“No, you’re right,” said Jenah, wiping her eyes. “I’m sorry, you’re just so—so on the wrong track.”
“What, does Henny like girls now?” The laughter overtook Jenah again and I waited patiently. “If you’re quite done laughing at how hopeless I am when it comes to understanding people,” I said.
“I’m sorry, I really am,” said Jenah. She forced her face into a serious expression. “Let me explain it to you in biology terms. She’s like a little caterpillar coming out of her shell.”
“You mean a butterfly coming out of its chrysalis?” I said dryly.
“Look at her, with her comics,” Jenah said. “Let her find her own way. She’s going to be all right.”
I shook my head. “If you say so.”
“I promise you,” said Jenah. “I’ve got her back and she’s got mine. Now how’s that spell coming?”
“Almost done,” I said at last. I picked up my pencil and finished writing down the last couple steps. Oh no. Oh no nononono. I double-checked my work and triple-checked my work, but the answer was always the same.
One pinch parsley, one pinch powdered rutabaga, one drop witch spit …
And one pinch powdered pixie bone.
That was what had been in the vial. That was what I had used to make Devon’s spell.
“What is it?” said Jenah.
I was livid. I pushed the paper over to her as I picked up my phone to call Sarmine.
She answered on the fourth ring and said, “Can’t you text me like a civilized person?”
“Sarmine, you tricked me,” I shouted. “I said I wasn’t going to use animals as ingredients and you told me to use the powder from that vial.”
“Don’t you dare raise your voice at me,” said the cold voice at the other end of the line. “You asked for the spell and I gave it to you. Perhaps you should have bothered to ask what was in it—or, dare I say—learn your own damn spells.”
I was so angry I hung up. I was probably going to hear about it later, but at the moment I didn’t care. “She has no empathy. None! She can’t even think of me as my own person. She … aaagggh.” I trailed off in frustration, unable to fully express my current loathing for Sarmine Scarabouche. “And now how am I supposed to help Devon when I can’t use this spell?” I banged the table in frustration. “She’s trying to back me into a corner with her whole ‘the spells are the spells’ nonsense. And I’m not going to do it, I’m just not.”
Jenah reached across the table and squeezed my arm in sympathy. “Now look,” she said. “Remember when we were trying to find a substitute for goat’s blood? And there were a bunch of suggestions in one of your mother’s books? What if we find a substitution for this?”
I calmed down at that. Thank goodness one of us could keep a clear head when dealing with my mother. I supposed it was easier if you didn’t have to live with her and her snakeskins and her newt eyeballs. “You’re right,” I said, and I picked my phone back up. “We are going to get on WitchNet and google something else that will work.”
Ten minutes later we had finished our lunch and I had a list of three potential substitutes for pixie bones. I read them out to Jenah.
“The first suggestion is a vanilla bean pod infused in balsamic vinegar, with a pinch of baking soda,” I said. “The plus side to that is I can dash across to Celestial Foods to get that, and be only a little late to fourth hour.”
“The drawback?”
“If you don’t get all the vanilla seeds out you will invoke a ‘small but terrifying natural disaster.’”
“On to number two,” said Jenah.
“Basilisk urine,” I said.
“Next,” said Jenah.
“Okay, so the last one has potential,” I said. “Supposedly you can use an infusion of three unicorn hairs to one-quarter cup of green tea in place of any powdered or liquefied pixie bone. So this has real possibilities, except Sarmine has cut me off from any more supplies because I refused to use her invisible eels.” Jenah raised her eyebrows and I explained about the pitcher of water that wasn’t really a pitcher of water.
“Charming,” she said.
“So now, if I could just get out to the Unicorn Ranch.” I drummed my fingers. “I could bike after school … no, I need to find Leo and get him handed off … I could ask Leo for a ride, but … hmm.”
Jenah got that manic gleam in her eye that she gets whenever I mention certain magical creatures. “I’ll go,” she said.
“The guy who owns the ranch is kinda creepy,” I said. “Are you sure?”
She nodded. “Oh, definitely. Oh, except I have scene study with one of my acting partners this afternoon, and then my grandparents are here for dinner…” Now it was her turn to weigh the calendar. “Heck, I’ll dash out during fifth hour.”
“You can’t cut American history,” I said.
“I loathe American history,” she said. “All those amendments.”
“All right,” I said dubiously. “I could use the help.”
“I’ll make it work,” she assured me.
“That would be amazing,” I said. “You can even take my bike. Just don’t use the set of shifters on the left-hand side.”
“Because?”
“Long story,” I said. I told her how much three unicorn hairs should cost, and gave her directions, my bike lock key, and most of my cash. “Don’t let him cheat you.”
“Please,” said Jenah.
* * *
There are benefits to having a class you really love and are making A-plus-plusses in. I got to fifth period early, cornered Ms. Pool, and pitched her a special self-directed project that would let me use one of the unoccupied lab benches in the back of the room while everyone else was up front doing the next two days of genetics. “It’s technically a chemistry experiment for something that might become a science fair project,” I explained. This was skirting around the edge of lying, but on the other hand, I had in fact once done a science fair project on the theoretical genetics of werewolves, so why not develop a science fair project based on vegetarianizing spells? Kill two birds with one stone—two tofu birds anyway. “I’m testing the reaction between several different compounds.” That was an understatement. “But I don’t have chemistry this semester, so I was hoping you’d let me use the equipment here.”
“You’ll be ready fo
r the test next week?” she said.
“Absolutely,” I assured her. “Plus I’ll listen while I’m working.” Genetics had been going all right so far, and I would have the whole weekend to catch up, after the Friday night bet was all finished and Leo had been officially saved.
“All right,” she said. “Just don’t blow up the lab.”
I took my vanilla bean pod to the back corner and laid it out with the other ingredients. Despite the “natural disaster” possibilities, it was a good strategy to try a backup. After all, Jenah might not be able to procure the unicorn hairs—or I might not get that spell to compound correctly.
I had measured the vinegar and witch spit together outside the classroom, so no one would see. Next order of business was to carefully separate the seeds from the vanilla bean pod. I got out the scalpel … and the safety goggles.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Leo come in the door. He made a beeline to me. “Did you tell me that the new art sub was one of those witches?” he said in a low voice.
“Yes,” I said. “And you need to be careful. I have confirmation that a different one actually came to town looking for you.”
His eyebrows rose.
“I don’t think she knew who you were at first.”
“But after last night…”
“It does seem likely,” I admitted. “Has the art sub been stalking you in particular?” No matter what Esmerelda had claimed in the bushes, I wouldn’t be shocked if she were busy double-crossing Valda with Malkin. And vice versa.
Leo shook his head. “No. But she’s been hanging around the football team.”
“That’s slightly creepy,” I said.
He shrugged. “The other football players don’t think so.”
“Yeah, but you don’t know how old witches are on the inside. She could be, like, fifty or something. Or eighty.”
He snorted. “Tell that to the team. I think she’s angling to get hired on as the new cheerleading coach. The boys are for it and the girls are ticked.”
I put the safety goggles on and tugged the strap over my hair. “Would you date her?” I said.
He looked sideways at me. “Honestly, yeah. Does that weird you out?”
“No,” I said. Which was half true. “Anyway, maybe it’s just because you’re open to possibility and all. You are still feeling open to possibility, aren’t you? It hasn’t worn off?” Despite the disaster with Kelvin, I thought I should make one more plug for Henny’s sake. Or, actually, one plug at all. She was right that I had never really tried to set them up. One more thing to put on my ethics list. Number 4: Don’t be a weasel.
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