The Cassandra Curse

by Chantel Acevedo

  “The city is full of heroes and people in need of inspiration. They simply do not know it yet,” Etoro said.

  Tomiko leaned her head against the glass, which reflected her hair color so that it seemed all of London was aflame. “Only nine of us, and so many of them out there,” she sighed. I’d forgotten how young Tomiko was, too. She was nineteen. In college, sure, but still a teenager.

  “Outnumbered, but not outmatched,” Tomiko said. She glanced at the candy behind us. “We’ve taught you how to fight. And you know what not to do. We don’t use our magic this way unless we absolutely have to.”

  “Like fighting sirens,” Thalia said, balling her hands into fists.

  Tomiko grinned. “You got it, little sisters.” She grew serious. “You are all very young and you’ve been given a Fated One very early. You’ll need to be brave, and you’ll need to fill your hearts with love,” she said.

  “But you aren’t fighting alone,” Etoro said.

  “We’ve got your backs,” Tomiko added, and I felt a lot better. Maybe they trusted us after all.

  When the lesson was done, we parted from one another at the nearest staircase. I looked at my soon-to-be-roommates. “Well, see you in Miami,” I said.

  Mela took a huge breath. “I don’t know how Clio will manage it.”

  “She always does,” Nia said.

  “I, for one, can’t wait. Muse Squad, out!” Thalia said, and took off running, gripping Mela’s wrist as she went.

  “Hey!” Mela protested, and we could hear the two of them bickering on the way to their entrance points.

  “Those two are bananas together,” Nia said.

  I nodded. “Hey,” I said, tugging on Nia’s shirt. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  Nia stared at her sneakers for a moment. “Me neither,” she said. Her phone was in her hand, and I could see the app she’d designed for her kódikas. It looked really cool. “But my dad always says you can’t know what you’re good at until you try. I’m going to try, Callie. For Maya,” she said.

  “Right.” We hugged, and then Nia walked off toward the fireplace that would transport her home to Chicago.

  I made my way back to the Great Bed of Ware, and slid underneath the bed like a cat. I didn’t close my eyes at first, didn’t want to go back. Because when I did, everything would be different. I looked at my bracelet. There’s still time to say no, I thought.

  Maya Rivero needed friends to show her the hero’s path. And somehow, I was supposed to help her do it. My breath hitched for a second. It was a feeling like tripping over something and falling so fast you weren’t sure what had just happened.

  I thought of Nia, Mela, and Thalia. We did make something of a team. A squad, Thalia would say. Maybe we really could help Maya Rivero become the hero she was meant to be.

  I closed my eyes and the world grew warm and familiar again.

  Chapter 16

  Muse Magic Comes in Handy at Home

  The next evening, as I was watching America’s Next Star with my mom and brothers, Mom’s phone rang.

  “Mm-hmm. Yes. I think so. How wonderful,” and on and on she went, scratching down notes on a piece of paper. My brothers tuned her out and, instead, held their cell phones, texting one another.

  “You’re right next to each other,” I said.

  “Yeah. So?” Fernando responded without looking up.

  “We don’t want you to eavesdrop on our conversation, obviously,” Mario explained.

  It’s not like I cared what they were saying. I was focused on the television. Raquel’s first-round performance was about to air, and my stomach was in knots. When I’d begged her to tell me more about it, she told me she couldn’t. “I can’t say much, Callie, except that Jordan Miguel is so cute in person.”

  I’m not going to lie. I was jealous. Happy for her, too. But definitely jealous.

  Mom was still on the phone, taking notes. My little dog, Lola, jumped up onto the couch and curled up in my lap. Jordan Miguel came on the screen. He was wearing a red leather jacket over a white T-shirt. A tattoo of an eagle peeked out from under his shirt collar. His brown eyes twinkled. My cell phone buzzed. It was a text from Fernando.

  Close your mouth, boba.

  What are you doing, catching flies?

  Mario texted next.

  You look like Lola’s twin.

  I glanced down at my dog, whose mouth was open, her tongue lolling out. She looked ridiculous.

  I threw a pillow at both of them. It was Raquel’s turn. She was onstage wearing tight jeans and a cute blue top. Long silver earrings dangled from her earlobes, and her hair was in a high ponytail.

  “Where are you from?” one of the judges asked. It was Will Branson, a music producer who wore his hair in a faux-hawk.

  “Miami, born in Venezuela,” Raquel said. Her voice shook a little. I focused on her, thinking of that day she’d sung for the school play auditions, thinking I could help before I remembered that this was pre-taped.

  Her name and age blinked at the bottom of the screen—Raquel Falcón, 12.

  “What are you going to sing for us today?” Jordan Miguel asked. I thought I saw Raquel’s knees shake a little.

  “A Spanish bolero. It’s my mom’s favorite. ‘Bésame Mucho,’” she said. The judges nodded, and the music began. The trumpets swelled, the camera took in the audience, and then Raquel sang the first note.

  Fernando and Mario put down their phones. I heard my mom say, “Wait a moment” to the person she was talking to, then she joined us.

  “Bésame, bésame muuuuucho.” Raquel sang a song about kissing, a thing I knew for a fact Raquel had not done yet. The hairs on my arms stood up. This wasn’t muse magic. No, this was just the feeling you get when you hear something beautiful. And Raquel did sing beautifully. She was born for this.

  The judges clapped. Jordan Miguel even gave her a standing ovation. Five stars from him! Five from Will Branson! And five from the other two judges, too—Marty Quinn and Josie Zelda, ’90s pop stars.

  Raquel jumped up and down onstage, and we all stood up and screamed. Lola barked once, offended that she’d been pushed off the couch. Mario and Fernando even hugged me. “Your famous friend better hook it up!” Fernando said.

  “Hook what up?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. Free tickets to concerts and stuff,” he said.

  “She learned everything she knows from us, after all,” Mario added. Then they left the family room together, talking about a video game they were going to play with friends online.

  “Wow,” my mom said, having finally hung up the phone. She gave me another hug. “Raquelita is amazing. Just amazing.”

  “Yep,” I said. Something small and ugly stirred in my heart. She was amazing, but I had helped. I had helped a lot. I watched as Raquel was interviewed by the show’s host, watched as she blew kisses into the camera. She looked so thin, and sophisticated, and pretty. I glanced at my phone. I should probably text her and congratulate her. My fingers hovered over the screen. I put the phone down.

  A muse trusts her instincts. Nia had said that was rule number one. I couldn’t figure out what my instincts were telling me, or if these feelings weren’t instincts at all. Would my instincts be this petty? This unfriendly to my best friend? Was this a “deep feeling” like the ones Clio had talked about?

  My mom dropped a kiss on my head. “It’s hard sometimes when the people around us seem to have all the luck, isn’t it?” she said. I know muse magic isn’t inherited, but surely my mom has some sort of gift, otherwise how did she know what I was feeling?

  Maybe it was just mom magic.

  “Yeah,” I said. “I’m happy for Raquel. I am. It’s just complicated.”

  “Your feelings are valid, Callie. Go ahead and feel them. And once you allow that to happen, your heart will still be in the right place, guiding you.” She clicked off the television. “Anyway, I have a distraction for you.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  M
y mom scooched closer to me. She fiddled with her nails, something she always did when she was anxious. “I just got off the phone with Principal Jackson. Don’t look at me like that, it’s good news. There are three exchange students coming to your grade. And Principal Jackson wanted to know if we might host them here. The PTA nominated our family! Our little family. Can you believe it? Three girls. Your age. What do you think?”

  I’d been wondering when to expect them. I’d assumed Clio would take a week or two to arrange things. She was faster than I’d thought.

  “Oh,” I said, trying to play off my excitement. “Where will they stay?”

  My mom took a moment, then cleared her throat. “I thought that we could put two bunk beds in your room. Principal Jackson said there was some money involved for host parents, and well, we could use it. But I won’t agree unless it’s okay with you. Just for the semester. They’d get here this weekend.” Her nails clicked together rapidly. I could tell she wanted to do this. Whether that was Clio’s magic, or my mom’s big heart, I couldn’t know for sure, but I had a hunch it was the latter.

  “Of course. I’ve always wanted sisters,” I said, which was true. When I was younger, I would wish for a sister every time I passed a fountain. I would say it out loud and my parents would laugh and say, “Maybe someday.” But then my dad met Laura. I thought uneasily of the baby on the way. How often would I even see him or her? The kid would grow up without me in their life, and be nothing like me. My new sibling was going to be a New York kid who played with snow, a kid who wasn’t around for my birthday, and who wouldn’t have my mom’s nose, like me and my brothers did.

  Mom interrupted my thoughts. “Are you sure? Because ‘no’ is a complete—”

  “‘No’ is a complete sentence. I know. But I would love to share my room with them. Tell Principal Jackson yes,” I said.

  My mother nodded. Then, she went to my brothers’ room. She would have to ask them, too. This was a family decision.

  I hovered outside their door.

  “NO WAY,” Fernando said. “No way. Callie is enough middle school girl for one house. If you need the money, I’ll get a job bagging groceries, Mom.”

  “What he said,” Mario replied. I could still hear the video game beeping and pinging, and the voices of their friends online shouting commands.

  Now was my chance. Clio had said I needed to tap into my “deep feelings.” Did I even have deep feelings about my brothers? I thought about how one time, Mario had taken me to the mall and some boys from my grade were there, and they had teased me about my weight. “Fatty Callie,” they had said. Mario had only glared at them. But when we got in the car, he’d turned to me and said, “Cal, you are so stinking gorgeous. And I’m not just saying that. Those boys are idiots. But you are smart, and sweet, and the most beautiful kid. Like, a stunner. Plus, you know I always tell the truth,” he’d said, and I’d hugged him so hard.

  I could hear Mom explaining things—where the girls were from, the extra money. Lola wandered up to me and licked my left ankle.

  Another memory came to me—the time when Fernando had saved Lola. She’d choked on a piece of a chew toy, and he’d shoved his finger into her throat and pulled it out. He’d handed her to me with tears in his eyes, then told me, “Take care of your dumb dog.”

  My brothers were sometimes my heroes. The thought seemed to thrum deep within my chest. I think I even said it out loud. “My brothers, my heroes.” Then I felt it. My eyes stung, the hair on my head rose up a little.

  “Hey,” I heard Mario say, his voice sounding a little softer. “Now that I think about it, this could be good for Callie. I’ll bet they’re nice kids. Smart kids to get a scholarship like this. Super smart. They could help us with our homework.”

  “Do our homework for us, even. Yeah,” Fernando said. “Go ahead, Mom. We’re cool with it.”

  My mother left their room and was startled when she saw me standing there. “Why are you crying?” she asked me, and wiped my cheeks dry. I couldn’t explain what I’d felt, how I’d tapped into some really deep feelings for a moment there. So I told my mom a different truth.

  “They said yes. Sisters!” I said, and my mom gave me a big hug.

  “Sí, mi amor. Sisters. For a semester at least. I’ll call Principal Jackson.”

  Chapter 17

  Bienvenido a Miami

  It was the middle of the night when I heard it.

  “Psst. Psst. Callie. Are you asleep?”

  I sat upright in bed, breathing hard. It was quiet. Maybe I had dreamed hearing a voice.

  “Callie. Answer me! I can’t make an international call on my mobile, can I? I have loads of packing questions!”

  I wrapped my hand around my bracelet. How did this thing work anyway? I raised my arm and talked over it. “Thalia? Is that you? It’s the middle of the night.”

  “Not here it isn’t. I have a question. How hot is it in Miami, really? How many bathing suits shall I pack? Flip-flops—yay or nay?” She spoke loudly, and in the background, I could hear the sounds of kids playing some sort of game.

  “Are you at school?” I asked.

  Thalia sighed. “Yes. It’s games period over here. People are playing footy. It’s a bore.”

  “I have no idea what any of that means.” I was whispering, though I don’t know that I needed to. The walls of my home were made of poured concrete—built strong enough to withstand hurricanes. That said, my mother had ears like a bat’s.

  “Oy, watch it,” Thalia shouted at someone. “Callie, any tips?”

  I rubbed my eyes and looked at the clock. It was three in the morning. “Thalia. It’s hot. Flip-flops are great. I never go to the beach, plus we have a job to do. Maya Rivero, remember?”

  “Gotcha,” Thalia said. Then everything went silent again. I hoped I hadn’t made her feel bad. She was only excited. Just as my guilt was starting to get the better of me, another voice filled my room.

  “Callie? Are you there?”

  It was Mela. “Hi,” I said, mid-yawn.

  “I have a question, if you don’t mind. You don’t have a pet bird, do you?”

  “No. I have a dog. She’s a mutt. Very stupid, but very sweet. And a cat named Misu.”

  “A cat? Wonderful!” Mela said. “See you soon, then.”

  I fell back on my pillows. Sisters, huh? This wasn’t going to be easy. At least Nia had the sense to—

  “Hey, girl. You there?” Nia’s voice came through the bracelet.

  “I’m here. Why are we awake?” I asked her.

  “I’m sorry!” Nia said. “Listen, it’s just that my dad is so suspicious, I can’t do anything weird during the day.”

  “CIA, right, I remember,” I said.

  “Yeah. Listen. There isn’t anything about your family I need to know, is there? Like something I need to prep my dad for? Because he is going to investigate all of you. Hard.”

  I laughed. Maybe the CIA had a record of the time my brothers left all the faucets running at the middle school on purpose. Mami and Papi had punished them for weeks. “No, Nia, I think we’re good. Nice and safe.”

  I actually heard her say, “Phew.”

  “Okay. Sorry to wake you. Sleep tight,” Nia said.

  “’Night,” I told her.

  Sisters, I thought again. This was definitely going to be interesting.

  The bunk beds were delivered just in time and set against the walls in my room. We had to take my old dollhouse out and put it in the garage. It wasn’t like I played with it anymore, but sometimes I liked to sit in front of it, arranging the tiny rug in the tiny living room, fluffing the tiny pillows, setting the mother and father on the couch together. Now, in its place were two towering bunk beds. Mom bought three colorful comforters and three new teddy bears, each wearing a small T-shirt with the words “Fun in the Sun” on them.

  “I bought them at the dollar store. Think they’ll notice?” she asked nervously.

  “They’re great,” I said.
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br />   “Good. There’s one for you, too,” she said, and handed me a bear of my own. It smelled like the dollar store—disinfectant and junk food. She surveyed my room, bent down to pick up a jumble of hair from the floor, and nodded in approval. “Looks like we’re ready. Let’s go get the girls.”

  We parked at the airport and made our way to the north terminal first to pick up Nia. She played it cool, acting as if she’d never seen me before, commenting on the long TSA lines at O’Hare International in Chicago, and asking about the drive to Cape Canaveral, where NASA was.

  “It’s about five hours away,” my mom said. “Callie and I have never been.”

  When my mom wasn’t looking, Nia gave me a wink and a thumbs-up.

  We didn’t have to wait long for Mela and Thalia to appear at the international terminal. They spotted me at once, and they ran to me and gave me a giant hug. They both started talking a mile a minute before realizing that we weren’t supposed to know one another this well. I was carried away, too. Nia cleared her throat, and Thalia, Mela, and I froze.

  “Wow,” my mom said. “Callie isn’t usually this . . . enthusiastic.” She gave me a weird look, and I contained myself.

  “I’m just excited,” I said. “My name is Callie.” I extended my hand like a car salesman waiting for a handshake. Then the others introduced themselves just as awkwardly. They followed us out, the glass airport doors opening and letting in a gust of hot air.

  “Whoa, that’s warm,” Thalia said.

  “Just like home in the springtime,” Mela added with a smile, as my mom led us through the parking lot.

  We slipped into the back row of the minivan, snug like sardines in a can. My mom turned on the radio and started to sing along, so we were safe to talk.

  “Such a long flight,” Mela said. “I had a layover in London, where I met Thalia. We flew over to Miami together. But this one wouldn’t stop talking,” she added, pointing to Thalia, who stuck her tongue out. “Plus, my headphones went missing.”

  Thalia laughed nervously. “Oh, you mean these?” she said, and pulled Mela’s headphones out of her bag.