“Got my report card, and it looks like I’m flunking, so thanks for immigrating to give me a better life,” said Onny casually, as she headed to the fridge.
“Good job,anak,” muttered Corazon.
Onny took out her food. “And—”
“Apollonia,” said a deep voice. “Stop antagonizing your mother.”
She spun around to see her father, Antonio Diamante, strolling into the kitchen. Short, dark-skinned, somewhat round, always sporting an immaculate pencil mustache, and currently standing in a black velvet robe, Onny’s father looked like a Filipino Gomez Addams even when Halloween wasn’t around the corner. He shook a handful of envelopes at her. Tucked under his other arm was a small white box. Corazon looked up, as if she’d sniffed out the promise of a parcel in the air.
“Is that for me?” she asked.
At the same time, Onny said, “Oooh… what’s that? Mine?”
Antonio Diamante stared in horror at his wife and child. “Not a single soul has asked about my day! Not my wife! Not my child! It—”
“Hi, Dad, how was your day,” said Onny, smiling at him.
Corazon was not having it. She shook a pair of scissors at him. “I am telling you what I toldher.I love you, I fed you, now go away, because I have a party to plan!”
Antonio and Onny exchanged matching glances of:oh no.
“Quick! It’s from Ash!” said Antonio, dramatically holding out the package. “Take it and run, child! And when they ask what happened to me… tell them I battled valiantly against”—he paused to point at his wife—“the beast.”
Corazon snarled at her husband. Balancing her food in one hand, Onny grabbed the package from her father, kissed him on the cheek, and darted out of the kitchen toward the staircasethat led to her room. In the background, she heard Corazon demanding, “So I’m the beast now, huh?” while her father mildly responded, “It really depends on whether or not you’ll share a Halloween cookie with me.”
Cue another roar from Corazon. Onny held in her laughter and raced up the stairs.
When Onny opened up the white box from Ash, she literally gasped.
Nestled inside clouds of tissue paper lay a Venetian demi-mask for tomorrow’s masquerade. Everyone was coming in costume, but not everyone would have a mask like hers, custom-made by one of her best friends. Onny lifted the piece carefully before turning it over and grinning when she saw the familiar etched initials: AL. Ridiculously tall and ridiculously quiet, Ash might look like a star athlete, but he had an artist’s heart and hands, with an eye toward delicacy that seemed to belong to someone far older than him.
“Ash, you outdid yourself,” murmured Onny, as she examined the mask.
The pieces framing the eyes swept out like elaborate golden crescents. Delicate whorls of glitter caught what was left of the afternoon sunlight, and small red crystals like shiny drops of blood danced over the top, so that the whole piece looked as sinister as it was beautiful.
Onny:IT’S MAGNIFICENT, ASH. I LOVE IT. I WANT TO WEAR IT ALL THE TIME.
Ash:Glad you like it.
Onny:“Like it.” I AM SCREAMING. IF MY SOUL COULD TALK, IT WOULD BE IN CAPS LOCK.
True:Where’s mine???
Ash:Should be there when you get home from the junkyard.
Onny paused to roll her eyes. Only True would think an excellent afternoon consisted of scavenging for metal parts to add to Miss Hocus-Pocus. Sometimes True even brought back chunks of metal to hang on her bedroom wall. Onny found it appalling.
Onny:BUT WAIT! THERE’S MORE!
Onny looked up from her phone to the potion that was sitting on top of the mini fridge in her room. True used tohaaaatethe mini fridge, until Onny stocked it up with Dr Pepper, which True was addicted to. It was an effective way to lure her friend to her house. But over the past week, Onny had cleaned the shelves to make room for the three slender glasses of love potion staring back at her.
The drink—although it supposedly worked just by beingincontactwith the intended, Onny found this aesthetically disappointing—was pretty straightforward: calamansi juice mixed with something sparkling (preferably champagne!her grandmother had written in the margins of her recipe). Onny had considered it, but her parents would probably kill her, so instead she’d mixed the calamansi essence with sparkling water, which required no small amount of dithering on her part. She’d texted The Coven last week when she was concocting the potion to get their opinions, but they were far from helpful.
Onny:This potion demands some sparkle. Do you think it matters what sparkling water I use? Like… is LaCroix good enough? Maybe Pellegrino?
Ash:…
Onny:What? Oh right. Maybe Perrier is the better choice.
