Kali fails to show for Cardio Fitness, a fact noted by Vicky’s cohorts, who snicker as they look back at me. I ignore them. In a matter of hours, Operation Fix Vicky will be complete. Vicky always splits from Melanie after algebra when Melanie goes to dramatic arts.
An hour later, I take my usual spot in algebra with Vicky two desks away. Mr. Frederics’s outfits have grown snazzier by the day, or maybe my bleary eyes are just more sensitive to color.He’s wearing a herringbone blazer and patent leather shoes, and the sugary notes of his happiness overpower even the tang of teenage angst. Is he sprucing up for the woman he expects to fall in love with him, or the one who’s actually falling for him?
Mr. Frederics calculates the sum of an arithmetic series, and I hide behind my textbook, biding my time. Vicky knots her hair on her head, exposing a brown expanse of neck above her white tank top.
The moments tick by.
Only a week ago, I looked forward to coming to this classroom. Now, coming here only reminds me of my mistake—the first term in an arithmetic series that set off a whole chain of consequences. Finding the upper limit will be a monumental task.
Finally, Mr. Frederics frees us.
I quickly pack my things and begin to follow Vicky.
Mr. Frederics calls my name. “Do you have a moment?”
“Er, sure.” Vicky sweeps out of the classroom and out of range. I step up to the teacher’s desk, hoping this won’t take long.
Mr. Frederics knits his fingers together, then bends them back, cracking the joints. “I asked Ms. DiCarlo to the homecoming game a few weeks ago but she never gave me a straight answer. Do you think I should renew my invitation, or is that too much, too soon, given the circumstances?” He leans closer, giving me a strong whiff of worry. “I don’t want to mess up the, er, medicine.”
“Um,” I stall. There’s a good chance she’d say yes even without the elixir, but if they get together before I’ve had a chanceto undo my mistake, Alice will suffer. “I think . . . when Ms. DiCarlo is ready, she’ll bring it up herself.”
His eyebrow stretches up and his mouth pulls down in a thoughtful expression. “Okay. Good thinking. If she’s still on the fence by the Puddle Jumpers event, I’ll have to bring out my secret weapon.”
“Er, what would that be?” I force a smile.
“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a secret.”
“Right. Well then, see you tomorrow.” Then I hurry out the door, wondering what new surprise awaits me in this high school house of horrors. May his “secret weapon” not cause irreversible mortification, for him or Ms. DiCarlo. And may it not get me further in the hole with Mother for that matter.
I move briskly down the hallway, hoping Vicky’s walking at her usual regal pace. Ahead, Lauren and Pascha are tacking up a poster. They spot me and smile. I return the smile but hurry by, not wanting to encourage conversation. They probably think I’m stuck up.
Thirty feet ahead, I spot Vicky’s dark tresses. Like a stalker, I slip through the stream of students pouring from the classrooms, edging closer to her.
Maybe it was a bad idea, me coming to school. I wasn’t unhappy being homeschooled. I collected more than eighty stamps in my passport. Not many fifteen-year-olds can say they’ve smelled the orange blossoms in Granada, or stuck their nose in a peach-scented Osmanthus tree in Guilin, China. AndMother wasn’t all work and no play, either. We rode camels into a Luxor sunset. Hiked waterfalls in the Amazonian jungle. I even held a baby marmoset in the cup of my hand, its striped tail coiled around my finger.
I wanted it all, but maybe I already had it all. One thing’s for sure: if I’d never come, neither Alice nor Kali would be in this mess.
Well, the elixir’s ready to go and I have to do this. Vicky deserves what’s coming. She stops at the vending machine. I tuck myself behind a partially open classroom door and wait.
“Mim?”
I nearly jump out of my ankle boots. Whipping around, I get a mouthful of hair—chestnut brown and curly. Cassandra Linney sweeps back her tresses and secures them into a rough braid.
“Hi,” I say cautiously.
“I’m looking for her again. She didn’t come to school and she’s not answering texts.” Her feathery brows stretch high above her wide-open eyes. She smells more concerned than uneasy today.
“I haven’t spoken to her since yesterday.” Having never texted Kali before, or anyone for that matter, I can’t say whether it’s unusual for her not to respond, but she never misses class. I should’ve called her last night.
Cassandra rocks forward on her toes. “Well, I hope she’s not sick. We have homecoming rehearsal right now. I can’t pull off the show without her.”
I sniff for the insincerity scents of dirty bathwater and pondsalt, but find only the freezer-burn smell of alarm and a little bit of pitcher plant. But Cassandrawasthe half-time show for the past three years before Kali came along. She’s a born performer. At the beginning of the year, she’d climb up on the lunch tables to sing the daily specials until Principal Swizinger made her stop over liability concerns.
Cassandra fans her face with her hands and takes a few deep breaths as if she’s preparing to either cry or break into song. I quickly say, “I’m sure she’s fine.” If Kali is sick, I hope it’s not Vicky-induced nausea. And if it is, I’ll take care of that right now. “I’ll let her know you’re concerned if I see her.”
The ambivalent note of rambling sunflower crisscrosses my nose, but disappears when the girl stops hyperventilating. She smiles, an expression that tucks her mouth down at the corners in an oddly charming way. “Thanks. See you around.”
Cassandra traipses back down the hall, passing Vicky who is still puzzling over her options at the vending machine. I uncap my vial and move in closer, hoping to get her while she’s still distracted. A couple kissing in the hallway separates me from my target.
