“Smells mildly inoffensive,” remarked Byron.
“Uh-huh.”
Onny could feel sparkles and witticisms bubbling up on her tongue. Alexander’s sandy blond hair caught the lights from overhead. Onny thought she could sense the stars pinwheeling out of sight, the pull of their compatible horoscopes reaching out across—
Slurp.
The sound crashed through Onny’s thoughts.
She whirled around to see Byron holding anemptychampagne flute. He smacked his lips, raising an eyebrow.
“Faintly lime tasting?” he remarked. “Strange—”
“Youdrankit!” said Onny.
“That’s normally what one does with beverages.”
Horror clawed through her chest.
“But… but that wasn’t yours to drink!” said Onny.
“I could use a drink?” said Alexander, sidling up to them.
The words were out of Onny’s mouth before she realized what she’d done. “I’ll get you one! Just, give me… a month?”
“A month?” repeated Alexander.
Alexander looked so gorgeous.
And soconfused.
“Did I say a month?” said Onny, doing her best I’m- completely-stable laugh. “I meant a minute!”
Alexander smiled. “Shall I wait here or…?”
Onny’s mind felt a thousand places at once. That was the last of the potion, which meant she’d have to make it from scratch all over againbeforemidnight in time to give it to Alexander. What were the ingredients again? A handful of earth danced upon? Something about a flower that’s seen a kiss? If True and Ash were here, she could ask them to help her, but they weren’t, and honestly this entire mess was due to one person… one person who honestly owed it to her to fix this chaos. Onny glared at Byron, channeling her feelings of “you’re a life ruiner; you ruin people’s lives” at him.
“You’re acting strange,” said Byron. “Well, stranger.”
Onny turned to Alexander, a too-bright smile pasted on her face. “Would you excuse me a moment? I need to have a word with Byron.”
“You do?” asked Byron, lifting an eyebrow.
“You do?” asked Alexander, frowning.
“I do,” said Onny, grabbing Byron’s sleeve. “I’ll be back with that drink as soon as possible.”
“Um, okay?” said Alexander.
“Great,” said Onny, gripping Byron’s elbow and steering him expertly through the mazelike crowd, past the dining room and into the laundry closet, where it was blessedly silent. The lightbulb had started acting up the other day, and the scant illumination limned Byron’s cheekbones and hair, catching on his silver eyes and stern mouth. He looked like some sort of dark angel.
A dark angel among… socks.
What a waste of a face,mourned Onny.Stupid face.
Byron arched an eyebrow. “Is this the part where you tell me you can’t hide your true feelings for me and ravish me in the dark?”
Byron’s voice, Onny decided, was also stupid.
