Luna’s hands are shaking as we staple four copies of the proposal. I wrench her down into a tight hug, our optimism switching bodies. “We’re going to do great. What’s ten thousand dollars, to a rich person? Crumbs.”
Nobody wants to think about what will happen if Mr. Yoon says no, like all the banks in town already have.
After purchasing the lot and snatching up the keys to the greenhouse, we eagerly opened the door to discover a wood floor covered in sewage. So, right away, the floor needed replacing. Not so bad! We needed to replace a few missing windows, anyway. The budget would be a bit snug, but no big deal.
But then.
We discovered black water gurgling in the sink, andbam, now we’ve got to replace the entire sewer line. Old clay pipes plus tree roots equals extensive damage. The quote we were given to fix it was about seven grand, not including the cost of demolition and repair of the asphalt. On top of what we need to spend for a new greenhouse floor, windows, booths for the night market, additional gardening materials. Trevor rented a jackhammer in a woefully misguided attempt to do some of the job himself, trimming costs, and now the pavement is riddled with holes. Even if we wanted to ignore the sewer line and set up the market, anyway, we can’t because the pavement’s all messed up.
Luna worries her bottom lip with her teeth, springy blond hair a cloud around her face. She’s sweating like a glass of iced tea. “TheGoFundMe hasn’t moved in a week.” There was an explosion of donations right when we announced our fundraiser in March, but it’s since petered out. If it weren’t for the fact that (1) The Magick Happens is Trevor’s only successful business endeavor, after tanking the three other businesses he bought when he first set out to be an investor like his dad, and (2) the banks gave us side-eye for not doing our due diligence before buying the property, we might have been able to secure a proper loan. Trevor, who has a somewhat tense relationship with his dad, didn’t want to ask him for the money, so it was a last-ditch effort when he called him up at the beginning of this month to ask if he’d help us. Mr. Yoon gave him a vague brush-off, said they’d “talk soon,” but hadn’t reached out until now.
Our building accommodates Luna’s candles and Zelda’s books, but the porch and back garden simply aren’t cutting it when it comes to my part of the business—every festival, I sell out within an hour of setting up. Imagine if I could grow more product and came prepared with enough flora (that I’ve grown and tended myself, which is crucial—magic doesn’t seem to respond as well to flowers I’ve purchased or picked in areas outside of my garden) to last the whole day? I could afford a real vacation. Not to mention, Trevor’s idea to create a night market has morphed into a full-on obsession. He’s always saying to Luna and me: “You both already have your thing!” He’s itching to put his own creative stamp on The Magick Happens.
At last, we’re ready. “Don’t let anyone in till after we get back,” we instruct Morgan. And to Snapdragon: “No parties.”
“I won’t tell them if you won’t,” Morgan whispers to the cat as he scratches behind his ears. Snapdragon gets so into it that he flips backward into a cord, unplugging a lamp.
And then Luna’s phone rings.
She stares at the screen. “It’s the school.”
Morgan rolls his computer chair away slowly.
Luna turns, heel of her hand pushing hard against the space between her eyes. “Hello? Uh, yes. I’m her mom.” A few beats elapse. My sister is turning raspberry. “You’ve got to be joking.”
My stomach sinks.
I know that look. It’s the one she wore when I told her what happened with my ex-boyfriend, Spencer. When she found out our mother sold the store. When Ash’s dad promised he’d take her to Cedar Point for her tenth birthday and then never showed up.
Trevor and I squeeze each other’s hands. A second later, Luna stuffs her phone in her pocket and screams.
Loud.
“What’s wrong? What happened?”
“I have to get down to the school. Do you think we can put off the meeting for a couple hours?”
Trevor grimaces. “If I ask him to wait, he might get offended and decide to take off. He’ssuperbig on punctuality. Last time he was in town was... four years ago, I think. He was in and out in twenty minutes. Not too fond of Moonville.”
She kicks a file cabinet, then hops around in pain. “Damn it.”
“What’s wrong with Aisling?” I ask again. “What’d they say?”
Luna grips her purse so hard that her knuckles whiten, pointing at us as she backs out the door. “You’ve got this. I trust you.”
“I don’t! We can’t do this without you, it’s a team effort. Trevor’s got the charisma and I’ve got the big Disney eyes that make people feel sorry for me, but we need your backbone to pull this off. You always know how to get your way.”
“I have utmost faith in you. I have to go meet with the principal. We’ll celebrate when I get back.” Before she runs out, she adds, “They said she put drugs in her teacher’s tea.”
Chapter Three
LUPIN:
Who goes softly goes far.
WHAT?”
Trevor, Morgan, and I take a minute to screech incoherently. Then we have to press pause on that because we’re running out of time, so I climb into Trevor’s car, internally screeching instead. I don’t do much driving these days unless it’s an absolute emergency because I’ve always hated driving, so Trevor’s my ride today.
