by Risa Green
“Ariel,” Tina continued, once they were assembled, “since you’re already familiar with the Plotinus Ability, we’ll get straight to the point. You’ve been brought onto the board to serve as the witness for Jessica and Gretchen. Now I know the three of you had your own way of doing things while you were—shall we say a rogue operation—but we have a system in place for everyone’s protection. If you’re the witness, then you’re only the witness. You don’t project. Is that understood?”
Ariel nodded. “Yes,” she said. “I really have no desire to ever project again,” she added.
Tina chuckled. “That’s excellent to know.” She picked the jewelry box up off the table and opened it, revealing the anklet and its disc of translucent amber.
“Ariel,” she said. “As the witness, I present you with this anklet that was handed down with the Plotinus Ability, from Gemina to Amphiclea, to their daughters Gaia and Alexia, and to their daughters, and on through the ages. Though we know now that it holds no power it still serves as a symbol of protection to those who project, so that they will always be able to find their way back to their true selves.”
She handed Ariel the box.
“Gretchen and Jessica,” she continued. “As the keepers of the Plotinus Ability, you must only project in the presence of your witness. As we know from the unfortunate fates of Plotinus and Gemina, projection is not something to be done at whim. It may only be exercised with the express permission of this board, and only when the circumstances are such that they adhere to the spirit of the ritual. Namely, to right a wrong done to a woman who is unable to help herself. Because of this rule, projection has not been practiced for several generations. You are the first to have achieved it in recent memory. And although you went outside the rules, we believe that it was in this spirit that your projection took place. Therefore, we pronounce you the Leader and the Partner, and we trust that it is only in this spirit that you will project again, if ever.”
Jessica closed her eyes and exhaled. Her stomach, which had been swirling with anxiety, suddenly became still. They have nothing to worry about, she thought. My days of rogue projecting are over.
When she opened her eyes again, Tina was smiling at her, as if she knew exactly what Jessica had been thinking. “Let’s say the oath,” she directed.
Tina, Michelle, Kristen, and Joan joined the girls in front of the table, and they all joined their hands in a circle.
“Empistosýni mas kai ti n písti mas tha férei ti dikaiosýni. Af tí eínai i ypóschesi pou pani gyriká kratí sei.”
“Our trust and our faith shall bring justice,” they translated together. “This is the promise we solemnly keep.”
Jessica squeezed Gretchen’s hand, then Ariel’s. She glanced at Michelle, standing across from her, and smiled.
Michelle smiled back. Her mascara was running again.
Jessica held her gaze. There was no doubt that Michelle would always be who she was. Difficult, narcissistic, impatient: a bitch. But not evil. There was a difference. She’d assumed Michelle was what she’d wanted Michelle to be. Wasn’t that what projection meant, really? These women and girls around her, they were imperfect, every single one. We’ve all lost so much, Jessica thought. Mothers, fathers, sisters, husbands, boyfriends …
Looking into her aunt’s eyes, she saw the truth of the Plotinus Ability. She and her friends had traded places to find what had been in front of them all along, all that remained, and in the end, all that mattered.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Many thanks to Bronwen Hruska and to everyone at Soho Teen for the work they’ve put into this book. I’m forever indebted to Dan Ehrenhaft for his guidance, for his encouragement, for his ability to cut straight to the heart of what is wrong with a scene, and for his uncanny insight into how teenagers think. Thank you, Dan, for believing that I could tell this story. Thank you to Merrill Sparago for helping me to set myself free. And of course, thank you to my delicious family. To my husband, Michael, for your support and unbridled enthusiasm, and for understanding when things don’t get done because the days disappear. To Harper, for always inspiring me to be fearless, and to Davis, for being so proud of me. I love you all so very much.