Love Fortunes and Other Disasters (16 page)

“But my fortune…” Nico said.

“Ignore it.” Hijiri frowned. “If you must, think of it as a friend saving a friend.”

*   *   *

Fallon buried herself in her sheets, but sleep evaded her. The heater's warmth tickled the back of her neck, gentle as fingers, unlike the restless state of her mind. She had followed through with her nightly routine of laying out her uniform and combing her hair until it shone. Yet her heart pounded against the mattress. Emotions trailed her thoughts like ghosts and none of it made sense.

When she thought of Sebastian the beginning of a head cold shot through her temples, making her ache. Not that anyone at school was sick. This was a sickness entirely of her own making.

“I have school tomorrow,” she told the universe, but her tired eyes stayed open.

The mystery of Sebastian Barringer only deepened. He was real. Vulnerable. There were cracks in his armor that Fallon had discovered by tripping over them, by saying things she'd never guessed had barbs. Even the frenzied excitement of helping Nico failed to distract her from noticing him. Fallon wanted to understand his reactions.

The early hours of the morning dyed her bedroom milky blue. Fallon pulled open the little white drawer on her bedside table. She felt the hard plastic of the cassette tape. Blindly, she popped the tape into her player.

At first, she didn't hear anything. Fallon retreated to her nest of sheets and blankets. She squeezed her eyes shut. Then, like modicums of stars in a cloudy sky, the sounds crept up on her. The gentle gurgle of the canal water. A breeze teasing the grass. If she listened hard enough, she swore she heard her own breathing mixed with Sebastian's as they waited in the darkness for the silence to end.

Her body relaxed. It wasn't until morning, when her alarm went off, that she realized she'd fallen asleep.

*   *   *

Fallon arrived at school early and walked over to her usual meeting place inside the tunnel. She eased into the shadows, adjusting her ears to the vibrations of the students crowded within. Anais waved at her, one arm securely wrapped around Bear's. He carried her bag and textbooks with a pleasant smile on his face, and actually seemed interested in Anais's typical tirade about mosquitoes.

“I got bit three times on my arm yesterday,” Anais said, shoving up her sleeve for Bear to see. “It should be impossible. Mosquitos should all be dead at this time of year.”

With his free hand, Bear carefully examined the mosquito bites. “I have some cream in my locker that might help.”

“You do?”

“The mornings are damp, the perfect time for mosquitoes to attack,” he said. “It makes training uncomfortable, but I prefer being outdoors instead of in a gym.”

Anais shivered a little. “I'm going to have to leave you alone now, Fallon. These bites are really itchy.”

“Don't worry,” Sebastian said, strolling into the tunnel, “I won't let her out of my sight.”

Anais dug into Bear's arm, moments away from ordering her brawny boyfriend to beat Sebastian up. “You have no business hanging around my friend, Bastion.”

Fallon placed her bag on the ground and sighed. “It's okay, Anais. You go on ahead. Nico will be here any minute to protect me from Sebastian.”

Bear agreed. “If we don't put that cream on your bites, you'll break skin from all that scratching.”

“Fine.” Anais glared at Sebastian. “See you later.”

Sebastian curled his fingers in a mocking wave. “Feisty friend you've got there.”

“She's protective of me.”

“Anyone would be.”

Fallon blushed.

Sebastian leaned against the tunnel wall. Decades of the stone wall's grime would come off like newspaper ink on the back of his sweater the minute he moved, but he didn't seem to care. Most people didn't.

The tunnel provided a clear view of Grimbaud High's front lawn, plainly covered in trampled grass and benches claimed by the same students day after day. Fallon saw Camille and Martin sitting on a bench facing the building—another oddity for Martin, since Nico insisted that the pallid president used the teacher's lounge as a private study before the first bell rang.

Nico and Hijiri arrived minutes later, whispering to each other in the tunnel. Nico's uniform had seen better days; he wore wrinkled pants and his bright blue eyes were bloodshot. In contrast, Hijiri stood taller than usual. “Tell me where they are, and we'll start,” she said.

Nico pointed a shaky finger at the bench. “Right there.”

Fallon's stomach dropped. Early as it was, Camille easily held Martin's attention. She climbed up on the bench, her skirt billowing in the wind. She took one step at a time, letting her hair fall prettily in front of her face, and while Martin craned his neck to watch her. His notebooks and pencils slipped out of his hands and fell to the ground. He made no move to pick them up.

Hijiri walked to the edge of the tunnel and pulled out a tiny pair of silver binoculars. The binoculars looked akin to something a devoted birdwatcher would have carried. She spent a good minute watching Camille and Martin through the lens. “There's a charm at work, but I can't tell who has it from here. I need to get closer.”

“She'll catch you,” Fallon said.

“Will she?” Hijiri shrugged. “I'm a nobody. Sometimes that comes in handy.”

Pocketing her binoculars, Hijiri left the safety of the tunnel and blended in with the students on the lawn. Instead of making a beeline for Camille and Martin, she swiveled in between groups of students and hopped over a pair of boys already sleeping in the grass.

“I don't remember ever being so invisible,” Sebastian said with admiration.

“Me neither.” Fallon caught herself and looked him in the eye. “I meant me. Not since high school began.” When the student body labeled her a snob.

Sebastian bumped her shoulder. “I get it. Thanks.”

Hijiri wandered close to the bench, just behind a group of girls crossing the lawn. She slowed down, moving with purpose, and circled the bench twice as Camille laughed and stole Martin's glasses. She lifted her head, sniffing the air, and hurried back to the tunnel.

“What did you find?” Nico said.

“There's not much we can do for Martin,” Hijiri said, “because the charm is coming from Camille. She wears it like perfume. Martin can't resist her when he's close to her. It binds him.”

Nico's face crumbled. He rubbed at his eyes with his sleeves.

“So as long as Camille's with him, he turns into a drooling puddle of boy,” Sebastian said, frowning. “Is there a charm that can counteract it?”

“Probably not of Zita's variety,” Fallon said. “And we can't risk drawing suspicion. Femke and Mirthe would probably agree.”

Hijiri grabbed Nico by the sweater. “Don't spiral now. You can do something about this, Nico.”

“I can't compete, even as a friend,” Nico said weakly.

“Yes, you can. Now dry your eyes. We have to hurry before the bell rings.”

Nico sniffed and smoothed down his sweater.

“This is very simple. I want you to walk over there and tell Martin that he's needed. Whatever excuse you see fit. If he doesn't budge, take him by the hand and lead him away. Okay?”

“Okay.”

As Nico left, Hijiri smiled. “Let's follow him. We're going to need to hear this.”

A bubble of excitement rose in Fallon's chest as she and Sebastian followed Hijiri onto the lawn. They moved as she did, blending and curving with the students, until she was close enough to overhear Nico as he stopped at the bench.

“Martin,” he said, “Mr. Claes is asking for you in the teacher's lounge. He wants to go over last year's budget with us.”

“Can't you see we're busy?” Camille said, barely giving Nico a second glance. She played with Martin's glasses, putting them on and off her face while Martin squinted and feebly reached for them.

Fallon wanted to march over there and slap Camille. She wanted, more than anything, to retrieve those glasses and end Martin's torment, unknown as it was to him. But Nico surprised her. He became almost golden, his tanned skin and electric blue eyes at once penetrating.

“This can't wait.” He held out his hand for Martin's glasses. “You know how impatient Mr. Claes is.”

Camille snorted and slid the glasses back on Martin's nose. Then she gave him a sound kiss. “He'll have to wait until after school.”

Nico bristled. Sunlight made his hair catch gold. “Martin,” he said, stronger, “let's go.” He grabbed Martin's wrist and tugged him forward—away from the bench, from Camille, from the cloying perfume that turned his brain fuzzy and weak.

That was when Fallon saw what Hijiri was getting at by making Nico go through with this. The moment Nico touched Martin, something snapped and fizzled in the air. Tension leaked. Martin's eyelashes fluttered and he seemed to really breathe for the first time that morning.

“Mr. Claes doesn't appreciate being kept waiting,” Martin said softly.

Camille's mouth twisted. She leaned forward. “You can't go.”

Martin swayed on his feet.

Nico let go of Martin and turned away from the bench. It looked as if he was giving up. But then he looked over his shoulder and offered his hand again. “Martin?”

And to everyone's surprise, Martin blinked. “Of course. Coming.” He stumbled after Nico, rubbing his temples and coughing.

“What just happened?” Sebastian asked.

Hijiri smiled. “It's simple. Nico is like the sun for Martin.”

 

chapter 13

EVERY TIME

If relationships could be understood with equations, then Nico's position was perfect for obstructing Camille's charm. “From what I understand, Martin doesn't have many friends. He's also dedicated to his position as president,” Hijiri said. “So logically, the student government officers have the power to bring him out of Camille's charm.”

Fallon couldn't hide her disappointment. “Any one of them?”

“We'd have to test each officer to be sure.” Hijiri paused. “Sorry. I know you were hoping for better news.”

“I thought Martin's reaction meant he might like Nico.”

“I guess I was too poetic with my sun comment. Let me put it another way. At this point, Nico has enough leverage to interfere with the charm because Martin trusts him and respects him as treasurer. Those feelings rise to the surface even when he's in the throes of the charm. Nico's presence burns away the effects of Camille's charm, if only temporarily. You see, friendship has power too. Just perhaps not as strong as love.”

“How do you know so much?” Sebastian asked.

Hijiri laughed—it was a soft, whispery sound. “Through observation. You can learn a lot when you're not participating in life.”

“You're already a great charm-maker, aren't you?” Fallon said.

Hijiri tucked her chin to her chest. “Not really.”

“You are. Thank you for helping us.”

Hijiri mumbled a “you're welcome” and darted away as soon as the first bell rang.

Sebastian stretched languidly. His rolled-up pants rose as he balanced on his toes. “How does she see with that hair?”

“Good question.” Fallon frowned. She wanted to thank Hijiri for helping somehow.

“Can't be comfortable.”

“No.” She thought hard.

“Well,” Sebastian said, “don't want to be late for class.”

The idea came to her in a starburst. She grabbed his bag strap before he could walk away. “Now I have two favors to ask you.”

Sebastian, bemused, stopped to listen.

*   *   *

Sebastian said he needed two weeks of listening to
Hard-boiled Hal's Practical Guide to Love
before he could confidently be able to identify the radio show host's voice. “It's all in the pauses between words,” he said. “Everyone creates silence differently.”

Fallon wondered what gaps she left between her own words. While she folded her laundry and ironed her uniform, she tried out sentences and listened for the spaces. “I talk too slowly,” she whispered.

During the week, she took turns visiting both Anais and Nico. Especially Nico. She squeezed into the ticket booth with him, offering what comfort she could while he struggled to accept Hijiri's discovery.

“She said I have a positive effect on him,” Nico said, toying with the money in the cash register. “The more I'm in his line of sight, the better. Maybe he'll be able to pull himself out of the charm completely someday.”

Someday. That sounded like hundreds of years in the future. Would they grow old and die still prisoners of Zita's fortunes? Fallon buttoned her coat up to her chin to keep out the chill.

“I care so much,” Nico said, “but I'm so tired, Fallon.”

“I know.” She didn't sleep much herself, unless she listened to Sebastian's tape.

Nico slapped the register closed. “You know what? This isn't like me. I'm not going to sit in this stupid booth, crying and lamenting my fate.”

“That
is
like you,” Fallon teased.

“Nevertheless. Let's get some air. Real air.”

She followed Nico to where the rowboats were tied up. “We're going out on the water?”

Nico shushed her. “Not so loud. My dad can't find out.”

The rowboat only left ripples as proof of their escape as they traveled down the canal. Mr. Barnes's big boats cruised farther south; since Nico knew the route by heart, they were in no danger of taking the same path. Fallon sat with her hands in her lap, admiring the firefly lights belonging to the coffee shops and antique stores. Adults drank wine on balconies. A string quartet played on the street near the canal while their audience curled up on blankets and ate cakes wrapped in wax paper.