The Cassandra Curse

by Chantel Acevedo

  Part of me wanted to race after them. But I knew I had to let it go, and let the real muses do their jobs.

  I took a deep breath and rejoined the Twenty Questions game. I guessed Charles Darwin after seventeen questions and Maya gave me a high five.

  “You knew the answer after the first three questions, didn’t you?” I asked.

  Maya was kind enough to lie to me. “No way. You had it the whole time,” she said.

  That afternoon, Maya came over, rolling her science project all the way to my house on a wobbly cart. The tank was empty, and so I helped her lift it up the porch steps and into my room. My mom hovered nearby.

  “Will you need a ride to the science fair?” my mom asked. “That contraption fits in the van, no problem.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Martinez,” Maya said, her smile big and wide.

  “Call me Trudy,” she said.

  Once my mom left, I closed the door and we got to work. “Okay, pretend I’m a judge. I’ll stand here all stern and mean-looking, and you give me your spiel about your project.”

  I draped a blanket over my shoulders and made an angry face.

  Maya stared, then laughed. “Will the judges be evil wizards, or something? Should I learn a spell?” she asked after a moment.

  “Who knows?” I said. I wasn’t joking, but Maya didn’t know that. “You’ve got to be confident. Bold. Persuasive.”

  “Okay, okay,” Maya said, and started to talk about sea level rise. “Pretending it’s not happening is not a solution,” she said, and described the technology of her project. When she stopped, she took a long, trembling breath. “How was that?”

  “Perfect!” I said, and meant it. She didn’t need me at all. A part of me felt a little . . . disappointed? What was the point of having muse magic if your assigned Fated One didn’t actually need you?

  I threw off the blanket and helped Maya glue down the plastic tubing at the bottom of the tank, and straightened the tiny buildings on the second level. We circled her project a few times and determined it to be “Done and done.” But when we rolled it toward the door, a bolt slid out of the pump and tumbled under my bed.

  Maya crawled underneath the bedskirt. “Got it,” she said, and then added, “and I found this!” She emerged with one of the V and A dress-up cloaks in her hands. “Here you go,” she said.

  “Wha—?” I started to say, then closed my mouth. “Thanks, Maya. I thought I’d lost it.” My eyes prickled a little. I probably would never get to see headquarters again. I lifted the cloak to my nose and sniffed. Still gross-smelling.

  “I’m always losing stuff like that. Once, I lost my left sneaker on the way to school. I don’t even know how that happened.”

  I laughed out loud.

  “Don’t make fun,” Maya said.

  “I’m not!” I said quickly. “I’m so glad you found it.”

  Maya chuckled. “Can I say something?” she asked.

  I nodded.

  “It’s weird that you’re going to be at the science fair and not the America’s Next Star finals. Like, I appreciate it. I do. But Raquel is your best friend. And she’s totally making the finals.” Maya said all this without looking up from her hands. I stared at my hands, too. It wasn’t weird. It was sad. I didn’t want to think about it too long because it made my throat hurt like I wanted to cry.

  “I keep telling you. She was my best friend. Was.”

  Maya looked at me, her eyebrows raised near her hairline. She lifted one of her braids and laid it across her top lip, like a mustache, then dropped it. “What do I know?” Maya said at last. “I’ve never even really had friends, except for you and Max this year. But if I had a best friend, then I would fight to keep her.” She considered me for a minute, and I looked away. “Are you even going to watch the semifinals?” she asked, but I didn’t answer.

  A car horn sounded outside. Maya stood up and looked out the window. “It’s Alicia,” she said. It was raining heavily. Alicia had come in the car so that Maya wouldn’t have to walk home in the downpour. “Can I leave my experiment here?” she asked.

  “Yep,” I said. Maya gave me a little wave and left. I watched from my window as she got into the car with Alicia and the two of them drove off.

  The next night, I summoned up the courage to text Raquel.

  Good luck on the semifinals tonight

  I watched the little bubbles on the screen that told me she was texting something back. They popped up and down, up and down, and then disappeared.

  She’d given up on typing.

  I typed: I miss being us. Raquel and Callie, besties.

  Then, before I could hit Send, I deleted it.

  Mami made picadillo that night, and Mario, Fernando, and I cleaned our plates, as usual. After dinner, Fernando turned on the TV.

  “I’m out,” I said, heading to my room.

  “Hey, your best friend is on TV. Don’t you want to watch, weirdo?” Mario asked.

  My heart pounded. Yes. No. I didn’t know what I wanted. “I’m not a weirdo, jerkface,” I said instead.

  “Yo, chill,” Mario said.

  “Hormones,” Fernando said.

  “SHUT UP!” I shouted.

  I heard the slam of a kitchen cabinet. Mami’s footsteps followed. “¿Qué pasa aqui?” she demanded.

  “Nothing,” we all said at once.

  My mother held a damp rag in her hands. There were shadows under her eyes. I suddenly felt very small, and very mean. Ever since Papi left, Mario, Fernando, and I tried our best to be good, to not make Mami look like she looked at that moment—dead tired and super sad.

  We weren’t always successful.

  “Your daughter,” Fernando said, and I heard the sneer in his voice without even looking at him, “is jealous of her cool best friend and is taking it out on us.”

  “YOU!” I shouted, and launched at my brother. He pushed me off easily, and I fell onto the floor with a thump.

  “¡Para sus cuartos!” Mami yelled, sending us to our rooms with a roar. Fernando snarled at me as he walked past.

  Outside my room, I heard the TV volume come up. Some long minutes after, I heard Raquel’s voice, clear and lovely, fill our house. I heard the announcers name her as one of the finalists. I heard Mario and my mom whoop and cheer for my friend. My best friend. My ex-best friend.

  I threw myself on my bed, burying my head under my pillow, and cried myself to sleep.

  Chapter 28

  Frosty’s Enchanted Forest

  Since the night of the semifinals, when I’d turned on Fernando like that, Mami and my brothers had been surprisingly patient with me. I guess they had understood after all.

  As for me, I didn’t understand a thing. The county science fair was coming up in two days—and so were the America’s Next Star finals, for that matter. I hadn’t heard from any of the muses, and I was nowhere near figuring out what the sirens were up to, where the Cassandra Curse was, or how to protect Maya.

  At school, Raquel-mania had hit its zenith. Banners and posters went up in every hallway, and between classes, her song, “Friends of a Feather,” was piped over the PA system. Meanwhile, every afternoon, Maya came over to work on her project, tweaking it here and there, muttering to herself about stuff like “carbon capture” and “ice cores” and “salt filtration” and ugh. None of it made any sense to me. While she worked, I sat out on my front porch, scanning the skies for birds.

  Mami noticed I wasn’t myself, of course. She notices everything. One night after dinner, she held up five tickets in her hand like poker cards.

  “No way!” Mario exclaimed, snatching the tickets from Mami’s hands. “Frosty’s Enchanted Forest!”

  “Shut up!” Fernando said, and tore the tickets away from Mario.

  “Maybe we can bring Maya,” Mami suggested helpfully, taking the tickets from my brothers. “Do you think she’d like that?”

  I shrugged. “Sure,” I said. Normally, I’d be thrilled about going to Frosty’s. But here’s th
e thing about being sad and confused, which I was—it was like eating when you have a bad cold. Nothing tastes right, no matter how delicious.

  Mami pulled me into a hug, and whispered into my hair, “It’s going to be okay, mi niña.” She meant Raquel, of course. I had no choice but to let her believe that was the only reason for my moping.

  “No, it’s not,” I whispered back.

  “Then that’s okay, too,” she said, and left it at that.

  The night before the county science fair and the America’s Next Star finals, the Martinez-Silva family, plus Maya Rivero, went to Frosty’s Enchanted Forest. Frosty’s was actually just a local park that was transformed into a winter wonderland each year. Every December, millions of Christmas lights were strung from the pines. Carnival rides were put up throughout the park—there were funhouses and carousels, roller coasters, and one ride called Kick Booty, which was everyone’s favorite.

  Maya had agreed to come, even though the county science fair was the next day. “A perfect distraction,” she’d said. When we picked her up, she was wearing a holiday tutu, which she paired with pigtails and a jingle bell necklace.

  The place was packed with kids, and we recognized a bunch of them from school. I spotted Tinker and Drang, the video game boys from SAP, and Allie, Mia, and Diana, the volleyball players, lined up to throw pies at a guy dressed like Santa Claus. We saw Max up on the Zipper with Leo, a puke-inducing ride if there ever was one. They spotted us and waved weakly, before puffing up their cheeks as the ride flipped them upside down for the hundredth time. Letty and Lisa took video of them as the ride spun. Alain and Violet held hands as they waited in line for the Ferris Wheel.

  “That’s new,” I said to Maya, and she glanced over at them, her eyebrows lifting in surprise.

  “That, too,” she said a moment later, looking off toward Kick Booty. Raquel stood in front of the ride with two very large men in unnecessary sunglasses, Raquel’s parents, and a third hat-and-sunglasses-wearing guy that had to be Jordan Miguel.

  And it looked like Jordan Miguel was trying hard to get Raquel to get on Kick Booty.

  Maya and I watched as Raquel shook her head vigorously. She was really afraid of fast rides, always had been. We walked on until we were standing just a few feet away from her and her posse.

  “Come on,” Jordan Miguel seemed to be saying, tugging her arm while she pulled away.

  A part of me felt really bad for her. It seemed like a small thing, but Raquel was sensitive about this particular fear. I made fun of her for it once when she refused to ride the Tilt-a-Whirl at a church fair one year, and I felt so bad afterward that I promised I would never make fun again. A fear of heights and speed was why she panicked so badly on the Metrorail that night, and why I didn’t mind her crushing me in a hug while that door was open.

  But that was the old Callie and the old Raquel.

  Then Raquel looked at me. She froze for a second, while Jordan Miguel pulled at her arms, laughing and teasing.

  I took a step forward. “Listen, Raquel, you don’t have to do what he wants,” I said. It was the first time I’d spoken to her in weeks. One of the men in sunglasses quickly stood in front of me, his thick arms crossed.

  “Beat it,” he growled.

  I tried to look around him, and saw that Raquel was shaking her head at me, her eyes full of fear. She whispered something to Jordan, and he laughed brightly.

  “Scram, kid,” the man snarled again.

  “Fine. Scramming,” I said to the bodyguard. Then, I turned toward Maya. “Hey, Maya,” I said as loudly as I could. Raquel’s eyes bounced to us. She’d heard me. Good. “Let’s go on Kick Booty.”

  “No way,” Maya said, looking up at Kick Booty. The aerial swings spun around a center tower. Everyone took a seat in a swing and paired up with a friend, one in front of the other, the person behind holding on to a metal handle on the back of their partner’s swing seat. The tower lifted, and the swing went up too, spinning out, the whole thing flaring open like a flower. When the operator yelled, “Kick Booty!” the person in the back would kick their friend up front, sending them flying. Reconnecting wasn’t easy, but the operator waited until everyone did before shouting, “Kick Booty!” again.

  “Come on, Maya,” I said quietly, stealing a glance at Raquel, who was now looking at us intently.

  “No,” Maya said.

  I pouted, but she shook her head, her eyes searching for my mom, who had gone to get some cotton candy. Maya had sat in the front seat on the way to Frosty’s, and she and my mom had talked the whole time. Once, I’d caught my mom ruffling her hair.

  I heard the operator shout, “Kick Booty!” and heard the kids on the ride screaming. My brothers had already gone on twice, and Fernando had flown so far out that I thought the chains holding up his swing would snap.

  It was awesome.

  I could feel Raquel watching. The old Callie would have figured out a way to get around that bodyguard. The old Callie would have suggested Raquel and I go eat something, or go take pictures in a photo booth. The old Callie would have led her best friend away from the ride, the source of her anxiety.

  The new Callie wanted to prove a point.

  Raquel, I thought, you are replaceable.

  “Maya, please,” I begged. I could feel my fingers going numb. I could stop it now, the muse magic. I could halt it in its tracks, I knew. And after what happened at Sea-a-Rama, I knew that I probably should.

  “KICK BOOTYYYYYY!” shouted the operator.

  A muse never uses her magic against her sisters, I thought.

  But Maya wasn’t my sister.

  And maybe I wasn’t even a muse anymore. Did the rules still apply to me?

  I let the magic wash over me. Maya’s eyes narrowed as she looked at the ride. She took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and said, “Let’s do it.”

  I grabbed her hand and pulled her into the line. Mario got in line behind us and gave us the thumbs-up. Fernando had gone off with Mom to get cotton candy. I stood on tiptoe to catch a final glimpse of Raquel, but she was gone, and whatever little victory I had hoped to feel evaporated.

  Feeling small and mean, I fell silent as Maya chattered bravely about the ride. Her eyes glittered. My muse magic had done its job.

  When it was our turn, Maya slipped into the seat behind me. “I’m going to kick your bu—” she started to say when the tower lifted us up into the air.

  “You wish!” I shouted back at her. Up we went, the warm air of the night whipping our faces. Frosty’s Enchanted Forest became tiny beneath us. Everything felt like it was falling away—muse stuff, Raquel, Papi and the new baby—none of it mattered because the operator shouted, “Kick Booty!” and I felt a mighty shove and was flying!

  I stretched out my feet and pointed my toes, pretending to be an arrow slicing through the sky. The people watching us from the ground were a blur, but I hoped Raquel could see me. I kicked my legs, felt the ride speeding up, felt my eyes watering in the wind. For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t thinking about anything but having fun. I threw my arms up in the air and shouted, “Woo hoo!”

  I reached behind me, trying to reconnect with Maya when I saw them—three shapes flitting around the chains that held up Maya’s swing. Blue-black feathers rode the wind and flew away.

  “No! Maya!” I shouted, stretching out as far as I could.

  Maya was laughing, unaware of the birds now pecking at the chains. Her fingertips touched mine, then slipped away. I swung my legs, hoping it would slow me down somehow. Around us, other riders were already connecting, getting ready for the next shout of “Kick Booty!” But I couldn’t manage to get hold of Maya’s hands. I was sweaty, and wiped my palms on my shorts, thinking it might help. Once more, I reached out. We hooked pinkies, but Maya swung away from me again. “Maya!” I shouted, and I think I was crying by then, because Maya’s face grew concerned, and I saw her ask, “Callie, are you okay?” before the first chain snapped.

  Sh
e screamed, holding on to her seat. The other three chains stayed put, and the sirens flew off. But now her swing swayed wildly in the air. Maya’s screams were drowned out by another shout of “Kick Booty!”

  How had the operator not seen what was happening? I focused on him, finding him behind the machine that controlled the ride. As we whipped around, I saw him. He looked dazed. Sitting on the controls were the three birds.

  Maya screamed.

  Now people on the ground were beginning to notice. I spotted Mami. Her hands were covering her mouth. Others had yanked out their phones—some to take video, some to call 911. I kept trying to reach Maya, even as the operator called out “Kick Booty!” again, and people went soaring past us, unaware of what was happening.

  That’s when I saw Fernando run up to Mami. I remembered the time I sprained my ankle roller skating, how he had carried me home, and how gentle he had been. My hands reached out for Maya, but I couldn’t feel them anymore. My arms were numb with magic, all the way to my shoulders. My eyes filled with tears. Fernando! I thought, sending magic his way. I forgave him everything. The “cool best friend” comment, the “weirdo” comment, everything. My brother, my hero! And then I saw him leap over the fence that kept the operator away from the people in line. I whipped my head to and fro as we spun to watch him grab the man by the collar and shake him awake.

  The ride began to slow down at once, and we were all jolted in our seats.

  Maya screamed again.

  Please don’t let her fall. Please don’t let her fall, I prayed.

  I thought of the hero file I had found in Clio’s office. So many heroes. Anyone could be a hero. Remembering the Metrorail, I reached out again, let the magic course over me like a wind, the tendrils touching everyone on the ride now, the feeling of it so strong that I grew nauseous, and I sobbed as I turned around.

  Maya, holding on to her swing, was now sandwiched between two other riders, who held her close. One of them was Mario, and Maya had buried her face into his neck. “I gotchu, I gotchu,” I heard him say. The other was a girl I didn’t know, who had locked her legs around Maya’s like a wrestler, her expression fierce and determined.