Marcus nodded. That wasn’t so different from his matchmaking auras. “What about car accidents and stuff? You’re not saying soul collectors are in the car with those people, are you? I mean, they’d get hurt too.”
“No, in accidental deaths like that, the soul is thrown out of the body. Then I’d get a message telling me to hurry over there to collect the soul before it wanders away.”
“Wanders away?” he repeated. “Like…like the soul goes to haunt people?”
Lena shook her head. “It can get confused and drift around, that’s all. If it gets too far away from the spot where it died and a soul collector can’t find it, then soul hunters get involved.”
“Like ghost hunters?”
“No, not ghosts,” Lena insisted. “Ghosts are only in the movies. These are souls that aren’t where they’re supposed to be.”
“You really don’t like things you can’t explain, do you?” Marcus asked. “Love. Ghosts. I bet you don’t even believe that four-leaf clovers bring luck.”
“They’re genetic mutations,” she said with a shrug. “How about you? What does a matchmaker do?”
He explained how the energy was a type of magnet that pulls two people together so they can get to know each other better. Then he told her how the first couple he’d ever matched had had a strong spark right away and how that spark had gotten even stronger the more time they had spent together, a sure sign that they were going to last.
When he was done, Lena let out a long sigh. “I guess that really is what happened to Mrs. Katz today. I’d been hoping whatever went wrong was something else, something that wouldn’t mess up her life.”
“Mess it up by making her fall in love instead of making her die?” Marcus asked in disbelief.
“I don’t make people die. It’s part of life. It happens.”
“Well, so does love. Matchmakers only help it along. That’s why we can’t make people fall in love whenever we want.” No matter how much Marcus had wished over the past few months that he could have “zapped” Lena with a little love jolt and made her like him, he knew it would do no good. The manual was clear that if you used the abilities for personal gain, they’d backfire.
“I’ll have to check on Mrs. Katz later and make sure she’s okay,” said Lena.
“Why wouldn’t she be okay? She’s probably happier than she’s ever been.”
“Maybe she is now,” said Lena, “but wait until the whole love cloud wears off. Then she’ll be miserable.”
Marcus couldn’t believe how negative Lena was about this whole matchmaking thing. He’d always known she was matter-of-fact. That was one of the things he liked about her—along with her silky hair and her calm way of listening to people, even when they were shy like he was and never knew the right thing to say. When they’d worked on their math project together last spring, she’d been open to his ideas but had still kept them on track so they were done in no time. It was strange the things he was finding out about her now that they were together.
He sucked in a breath. Wait. Were they together? They’d kissed three times in the past twenty-four hours, after all. Granted, all three of those kisses had happened because of other people telling them what to do, but it still had to mean something, didn’t it? Grandpa’s book would certainly say they were “going steady.”
He peered at Lena as she steered her bike down the street, mumbling lines from the play under her breath again. Maybe there was a reason behind all this power-swapping business. Maybe this was the universe’s weird way of finally making Lena notice him.
“Why are you staring at me?” she asked suddenly, coming to a stop.
Marcus blinked. “Oh. Sorry. I guess I was…wondering why all this stuff is happening to us. What the bigger purpose is.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You believe in that kind of thing? Fate and karma and all that?”
“I think sometimes things work out the way they’re supposed to. Like when I make matches—”
Lena snorted. “That’s someone else deciding what’s supposed to happen. Eddie’s boss picks two names out of a hat and tells you to pair them up. That’s not exactly fate.”
“Okay…well, what about when I see an old model spaceship at a flea market and it’s missing a bunch of its parts. Why would I spend my allowance on it if I didn’t think I could fix it?” he asked. Lena shook her head, clearly not understanding his point. “Because I know that even if I don’t have the pieces I need now, I’ll find them eventually. And then everything will work out.”
Lena’s eyes widened. “Wow. You’re really an optimist, aren’t you? No wonder they made you a cupid.”
“Matchmaker,” Marcus corrected. “No diaper, remember? I don’t want my butt to look lumpy.”
Finally, Lena cracked a smile. “How come you never made any jokes when we did our project together? You were always so quiet.”
Marcus looked at the toes of his battered sneakers. “I guess I’m kind of shy when I don’t know someone. But now that we’re…I mean, you know something about me that no one else does.”
“Yeah, I guess that’s true,” Lena said slowly. “I don’t think anyone knows the real me anymore.” She peered back at him, a hint of a smile still on her face, and he had the feeling that she really understood him. For the first time since Grandpa had gotten sick, the aching emptiness in Marcus’s chest eased a little.
Suddenly, Lena’s smile disappeared, like a door had shut somewhere inside her. “Come on. I have to get home,” she said. Then she hurried her steps so that Marcus had to practically run to keep up.
Chapter 9
On her doorstep, Lena turned to say good-bye to Marcus only to find him looking back at her with a weird expression on his face. He kept licking his lips and then glancing at the ground. Wait. Was he gearing up to kiss her again?
Not that she wanted him to. Or did she? No, of course not! The day had been too full of weirdness already. The best thing for Lena to do now was slip back into her house and hide.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you at school tomorrow,” she said.
“Oh…um, yeah.” Marcus licked his lips again.
“Unless Eddie has news for us before then.”
“Right.” His amber eyes looked at her in a way that made her stomach feel oddly fluttery. Whatever was going on, she couldn’t deal with it right now, not when her audition was just over twenty-four hours away.
“Bye!” she cried. Then she yanked open the door and practically slammed it in Marcus’s face. She waited a second before peering through the peephole, letting out a whoosh of air when she saw him retreating down the driveway. For some reason, she was panting as she walked into the kitchen.
“Ah, Lena, there you are,” her dad called from the living room. “What do you think of this outfit?”
She poked her head in to find him in the same kind of drab shirt and tie he wore to work every day. For a second, she had the crazy urge to tell her dad about everything that had happened. But of course, she couldn’t. Even if she tried, he would never believe her.
“It looks okay,” she said. “What’s it for?”
“My lunch date, remember? I told you about it this morning?”
Had that really only been a few hours ago? How could Lena’s entire life have changed between breakfast and lunch?
Her dad glanced at his watch and pushed his dark hair away from his forehead. “She should be here any minute.”
“Wait, she’s picking you up?” Her dad had never been all that traditional, but if he was letting the woman do all the work, then he really was indifferent to the whole idea of dating.
“We decided it was easiest that way.”
“Well, have fun,” Lena said.
“I will.” But as he said the words, the world shifted again, and the air around her dad dulled and grayed. Lena stared at him as the awful f
eeling washed over her again, the sense of being hopelessly lonely.
“Dad?” she choked out. “Are you…are you okay?”
“Of course I am,” he said in his usual reassuring tone, but she could suddenly hear how fake the words sounded. How had she never noticed it before?
When the gray cloud finally started to fade, Lena felt like the loneliness had seeped into her bones. Her whole body ached with it. What was going on? Did this have something to do with her new powers?
The doorbell rang, and her dad hurried to open the door. Meanwhile, Lena clung to the side of the couch, afraid that if she let go, she might fall over.
Dad’s date swept into the hall like a gust of lavender-scented wind. She was tiny and decked out in a bright-red dress that perfectly contrasted with her jet-black hair. She definitely didn’t look like a physicist.
Professor ran over to bring the woman a wad of used tissues, but she ignored him as she charged over to Lena.
“Hello! I’m Marguerite,” she said as she enthusiastically shook Lena’s hand.
“Um, hi,” Lena said. Then she couldn’t help adding stupidly, “Is your name French?”
“It is! My family is French Canadian, but I’ve lived in the States for years.”
“Oh…” Lena realized she had nothing to say to that. She looked at her dad, who also seemed a little lost. This was the first time Lena had met any of her dad’s dates, but she wondered if all of them were so perky.
“Shall we go?” Marguerite asked. “There’s a lovely new place that opened up downtown. I think they have crepes.” She pronounced the word in the French way that almost sounded like “craps.” “And afterward, perhaps we can go see the new stamp exhibit at the museum?”
Lena stared. Not only was Marguerite a scientist like Dad, but she liked crepes and old stamps just like he did? Had Aunt Teresa coached Marguerite on what to say, or was she really this perfect?
Her dad nodded eagerly at Marguerite and smiled. That smile pierced through Lena like a laser. She realized it was the first real smile she’d seen on his face in months.
“Great!” Marguerite said. “Do you mind if I use your washroom before we go?” Then, without waiting for an answer, she disappeared down the hall.
“She seems nice,” Lena whispered, the heavy feeling inside her finally fading.
Her dad’s smile dimmed. “Don’t worry. We won’t be out too long.”
“It’s okay, Dad. Go have fun. I’ll be fine,” she found herself saying. Since when did she actually encourage her dad to go on dates? But this seemed different. He seemed different.
Or maybe all that mumbo jumbo Eddie and Marcus had spouted about love had seeped into her brain. Lena shuddered at the thought.
When Marguerite came out of the bathroom, her dad’s face lit up all over again, and Lena found herself wishing he could look like that all the time instead of like the sad, serious person he’d become since Mom left.
“We’ll be back in a bit,” her dad said, showing Marguerite to the door.
“Have fun!” Lena said with a wave. And that’s when it happened. Her fingers started to glow bright red just as her dad came over to give her his usual good-bye hug.
Oh no.
Before she could stop him, her dad wrapped his arms around her. The instant her hand brushed against him—zap!—the energy sank right into his body, as if it couldn’t wait to burst out of her fingertips.
Her dad jumped back, like he’d gotten shocked by static electricity. Then he glanced at Marguerite, and the smile on his face bloomed into a grin.
When Marguerite looked back at him, Lena could actually see the sparks flying between them, like tiny fireworks. Just like the ones between Mrs. Katz and the mailman.
Oh no. What had she done?
“Dad!” Lena cried. She had to take it back; she had to undo it. But how? She shook her fingers, willing them to light up again. Maybe if red zapped you with love juice, then another color—what was the opposite of red?—reversed it. But it was no use. She couldn’t even make her fingers glow again.
“Don’t worry, Chipmunk,” her dad said, his voice sounding far away. “Everything will be all right.” Then he took Marguerite’s hand in his and disappeared through the door.
Lena stared after them for what felt like an hour. What had just happened? Had she zapped her own father with some kind of spell? But that was impossible! Eddie had said she wouldn’t have any assignments, and Marcus had said you couldn’t make people fall in love when they weren’t meant to.
Fall in love.
The words bounced around in Lena’s brain, clanging against the sides of her head. Love was fake. Love was chemicals. Love was a joke.
But then how could she explain what had happened before her eyes?
Chapter 10
After dark, Marcus snuck over to Caspar’s house and waded into the pond with a flashlight. He held his breath almost the whole time, convinced Caspar was going to come out of nowhere and corner him. But he had to take the risk. If his dad found out what had happened to the phone, Marcus would be grounded until high school.
After he’d succeeded in angering every frog in the pond, Marcus finally found his soggy phone. He shoved it into his pocket and sloshed all the way home. When he got there, he smuggled the phone into his room and put it into a plastic container. Then he dumped a box of Cajun rice on top and coughed at the cloud of spices that wafted into the air. He’d read that uncooked rice could pull the moisture out of electronics that had gotten wet. There wasn’t any regular rice in the house, so the spicy Cajun stuff would have to do. He just hoped it worked. Otherwise, Eddie had no way to contact him except through Lena.
Lena. A warm feeling spread through Marcus’s chest as he thought of having an excuse to talk to her again. He couldn’t believe everything that happened today, but maybe this was finally his chance to “get the girl” as Grandpa Joe’s book called it.
He tried to imagine what it would say in this situation. Have you and the gal you like accidentally swapped powers? Try bringing her chocolates!
He examined his fingers, looking for any hint of the strange purple glow that had been there before. Then he peered at himself in the full-length mirror on the back of his closet. He didn’t look any different: same scrawny kid with messy hair and baggy jeans. No one would see him and think “soul collector.” Then again, no one would have looked at him two days ago and thought “matchmaker.” All they would have thought was “dork.” If they’d thought anything at all.
He glanced at the empty terrarium on top of his dresser, and his chest tightened again.
What if Eddie was wrong? What if it wasn’t so easy to switch back their powers? He couldn’t take people’s souls, no matter how natural Lena claimed it was. He couldn’t even deal with a turtle dying without turning into a blubbering mess!
There was a knock on the door, making Marcus jump. He shoved the container of rice under his bed right before his dad poked his head in.
“Where’d you go off to after dinner?” his dad asked. “Your sister said you snuck out.”
Figured Ann-Marie would tell on him.
“Oh, um.” Marcus grabbed for any excuse he could think of. “I went for a run.” It was sort of true. He had sprinted a good part of the way home, paranoid that Caspar would come after him.
His dad’s eyebrows shot up. Then he leaned against the door frame, smugly crossing his arms in front of his chest. “So you finally decided to man up a little, huh?”
Marcus swallowed.
“How far’d you go?” his dad asked. The fact that his only son could barely run in a straight line had been a sore topic for years.
“N-not far,” Marcus stammered. “Only, uh, a few miles. Three, maybe.”
“Three?” His dad whistled. “Last time I tried to make you run, you couldn’t even make it through one.”
Oops. Well, that was it. His dad would call Marcus out on the lie and make him do push-ups as punishment, the whole time telling stories about how much worse his own father had punished him when he was young.
But surprisingly, Marcus’s dad shrugged and said, “Maybe next year, we’ll try you out for the track team.” He thought for a second and added, “I’ll have to time you beforehand though. The first year I tried out for hockey, I fell on my face in front of everyone, and my father said I’d embarrassed the whole family. We don’t want history to repeat itself, do we?”
Marcus shook his head, stifling a sigh. The funny thing was, his dad actually thought he was going easy on Marcus. But since Mr. Torelli had been a high school hero back in his day—track star, hockey legend—he didn’t seem to know what “going easy on someone” actually meant.
“Anyway,” his dad went on, “your mother wanted me to tell you that we’re going to the nursing home to see your grandfather tomorrow afternoon, so be ready after school.”
“I can’t. I have a lot of homework to do.” At least this part was true.
“Homework can wait. Family can’t,” his dad said. “You’re going.” He turned to leave, but then his gaze fell on the moon ship on Marcus’s worktable. “You still wasting your time on this nonsense?”
“It’s not nonsense,” Marcus said. “It’s a hobby.”
“A hobby is something useful, like collecting bottles and cans or getting a job. This…” He held up a lunar module that Marcus had finished painting last week and sighed. “This is a waste of time. What happened to doing Boy Scouts or joining the debate club? You never gave those things a chance.”
Marcus swallowed. Over the years, he’d tried every sport and club his dad had come up with, and he’d failed miserably at every single one. He didn’t want to think about the one—and only—Boy Scout camping trip he’d been on a few years ago when he’d gotten up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night and wound up lost in the woods until dawn. But his dad couldn’t accept that his son was bad at those things. He thought Marcus only had to try harder.
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