I weave my fingers together to stop their trembling.
Jesse keeps going. “She’s probably been sick for a long time. She called you when she did because her time was finally running out, and she knew there would be nobody left to satisfy the curse.”
“But why?” I gasp. “She could have just found someone else. Why would she bring me to that house knowing what it meant?”
Jesse flips the pages of the journal, back to the very first entry we read at the Grease & Grind.
Mama thinks I need to be kinder to Safa. She says my sister holds grudges, and how I treat her now will determine how she treats me in the future.
“Spite,” Jesse says, simply. “She despised your mom. You were the best way for her to get her revenge.”
Impulse propels me before sense can catch up, and I grab Jesse’s hand. I hold tight, breathing hard. I don’t care if he doesn’t hold my hand back, I just need to feel another person, to remember I’m alive, I’m alive,I’m alive—
To my relief, Jesse’s hand closes around mine, warm and strong.
“After Mr. Hale attacked us, I saw a woman on the beach,” I whisper. “She was talking about how our family had made a name for itself by destroying others. How they’d destroyed the vulnerable community around them and built a legacy with its bones.”
They make us mortal so they can be everlasting.
“No wonder Khalto Safa was so angry. No wonder the curse won’t let me go.” I release Jesse’s hand, wrapping my arms around myself. “My mother cheated.”
“Cheated?”
I’m too numb to cry. Too numb to do more than laugh through cold lips. “She killed all those kids … ruined so many families, and she thinks that’s not going to catch up with her? She thinks she can marry my dad and move away and pretend none of it happened?”
No wonder Baba’s family had disowned him for marrying her. No wonder he’d let his fear and conflict-aversion prevent him from making amends and decided the easiest course of action was to pretend the past never existed. In that sense, he and my mother were alike.
“There’s something else.”
I close my eyes. I’m not sure how much more I can bear before I lean over and puke on Mr. Talbot’s equipment.
“The curse … I don’t think it’s trying to kill you. I think it’s trying to drive you out of Ward.” Jesse’s fingers brush my cheeks, skimming over my closed eyes. “Mina, when you opened the door, I think you took the test. You must have passed, because it wants you back. It wants you out of Ward.”
My heart stops.
“Why would you say that?” I shoot off of my stool. “Why would I have passed the test? You think I’m capable of—you think I couldever—“
“That’s not what I meant.” Jesse rises, kicking the stool between us to the side. “I don’t know how it decides who passes and who fails. Who has to be an active participant in the curse and who just gets to go off and live their life without seeing the cartoon anvil hanging over their heads.”
“I can’t deal with this, Jesse,” I say, my voice cracking around his name. “I’m not built to handle this much death. To handle any of this. You were right, you were right about me being nothing but an airhead social butterfly, that’s what I’m good at, that’s what I canmanage—”
Jesse’s hands move to my face, fingers pushing into the curtain of my hair and tilting my head up. I grab his wrists tight, just in case he tries to draw away. He waits until my breathing slows to speak. “Did I ever say it waseasybeing a social butterfly?”
“Airhead social butterfly.”
“Airhead social butterfly,” Jesse amends with a curl of laughter. “That’s a damn difficult job. You care about things. Miss Diaz, sports, dance routines, contestants on that unspeakable dating show. Your friends and father.” He moves close. For a second, we stand in a vast nothingness, the only spots of color in an endless void. If these shadows can truly mark moments, I hope this one earns a red thumbtack. Securing us here, forever, even as the rest of the world marches forward.
“You care about things, too,” I say. If I’m not careful, I might admit to Jesse I’ve discovered his secret. How he cares more than any of us. About crooked porch steps and quarreling drama students. About his father.
Maybe even a little about me.
Jesse catches a tear beading in the corner of my eye with his thumb. “You’re a terrible liar. We’ll have to work on that after we figure out this curse crap.”
Despite the cauldron of despair bubbling in my stomach, I manage to laugh. “Stop trying to corrupt me.”
Jesse’s smile becomes a full-fledged grin.
“Never.”
