“I meant it,” said Onny, leaning against him. “I want to see what happens next… with you. And me.”
He searched her face, a hesitant smile softening his mouth before he frowned again. “What about the love potion? Or all the magic stuff?”
“Oh, I still totally believe in all of that,” said Onny lightly. “It’s just that… I think I want to make my own magic, too.”
“Well, in that case,” said Byron, and then he pulled her to him once more.
Out of the corner of her eye, Onny thought she saw something move outside the greenhouse. A whisper of the Lady of Moon Ridge in her long, glowing white dress. Or maybe it was just the bright moonlight blurring across the autumn leaves as Byron kissed her.
KISSES TILL MIDNIGHT
Asher Lee was born in the labyrinthine depths of the Louvre in the middle of a thunderstorm, which explained both his love of art and his tendency toward quiet (the security-guard-turned-emergency-midwife had hushed him when he tried to cry his first breath.) His mother—then single and exploring Paris alone—had gasped at the beauty of Leonardo’sThe Virgin, the Child Jesus and Saint Anne,and the shock of the painting had sent her straight into labor. Apparently eager to see the painting himself, baby Ash tumbled out only moments later, with Raphael and Caravaggio as his witnesses.
Eighteen years later, Ash still loved Italian art, although his current infatuation was Venetian mask making. It was a dying art that needed preservation, and its history also fascinated him—masks as disguises had allowed people who normally wouldn’t mix to come together. Aristocrats and peasants could eat and drink beside one another, dance under the moon, and even fall in love. All because a mask let them become someone new.
Seven hours before the midnight gala, Ash headed into the backyard toward the garden shed his stepdad had built for him to useas a studio. He had been commissioned by a few people in town to make masks for the party tonight, and he still had finishing touches to put on a couple of them.
As soon as he stepped foot into the yard, though, his neighbors’ conversation drifted over the fence.
“Oooh! Look at that smooth move!” Ricky, the thirteen-year-old, said as he tossed a basketball into the hoop with a swish.
“That was traveling, cheater!” Jordan shouted in his squeaky seven-year-old voice.
“Was not,” Ricky said.
“Was too.”
“Was not.”
An older girl’s affectionate laugh punctuated their argument. “That was totally traveling, Ricky, and you know it. You ran across the entire court without the ball touching the ground.”
The boys devolved into fierce but genial rounds of “I told you so” and “I did not,” but all Ash heard was the lingering music of the girl’s voice, hanging in the October air like a nightingale’s song fading into the sound of falling leaves.
He sighed. Cassidy Rivera. She’d moved in next door during their freshman year and still didn’t know he existed. She was a cross-country star—her mom was coach of the high school team—but Cassidy was the athletic type who could play any kind of ball you threw at her. In comparison, Ash had ironically earned the nickname “Yao Ming,” like the Houston Rockets player, thanks to being six feet three (and still growing). But Ash knew only as much about basketball as what he’d gleaned from eavesdropping on Cassidy and her brothers next door.
A few weeks ago, Onny had tried to drag Ash to a Homecoming after-party at Cassidy’s house. He’d narrowly escaped only by lying and distracting her with a well-placed “Hey, isn’t that Alexander the Great-Looking over there?” before ducking away into his house while Onny’s head was turned.
“You know, youcouldjust talk to Cassidy,” his cousin, True, had told him on more than one occasion. “Pop your tall self over the fence and say hi. It’s literally one syllable.”
But that wasn’t going to happen, either. Something about Cassidy’s mere presence took Ash’s breath away. That sounded corny, but it was actually true. His voice evaporated like smoke any time she was near. So it was a good thing they had the physical barrier of the fence between their houses. Better to stay invisible than be made into a fool.
The basketball began bouncing again next door, and a moment later, a shot slammed violently off the rim, sending a shudder through the backboard and pole. The ball ricocheted over the fence, landed on the grass, and rolled right in front of Ash’s feet.
“Wow, Jordan, you’re a beast!” Cassidy said on the other side of the fence.
Jordan giggled.
“Let’s go next door to see if the neighbors are home and ask for the ball back, okay?” she said.
Ash froze. Cassidy was coming over? No no no…
He hurled the ball over the fence as fast as he could.
“Oh, cool. Thank you!” Cassidy called out.
Ash couldn’t even get out a “You’re welcome.” After all, if he’dbeen capable of speech around her, there were so many other things he’d want to say. He imagined the conversation in his head.
Hi,
