Page 61 of The Tenth Muse

Christine has the most infectious laugh! He’s playing at a booth where the objective of the game is to throw small, potion-filled beakers at pins across the way. The potions have to be thrown in the correct order at the right pins to match the sequence of items on a spinning wheel above the booth. So for his turn, the wheel shows a fish, bucket, and drum. However, Christine has created a log with fins, and iron drum sticks, and hasn’t been able to hit the third pin at all. Which is fine because he told me that he’s only playing so that he can flirt with the booth master and, right now, he’s got them laughing right along with him.

I finish what I’m imagining are french fries and turn my attention toward Donella. She’s watching the crowds and twirling the hairbrush I won around her fingers.

“Nellie,” Donella squints her eyes and scoffs at me, “what are you thinking about?”

She’s quiet for a moment and then lifts the blue brush. “Do you think you’ll ever use this?”

Its tight bristles are definitely not meant for my hair but I was planning to take it home as a keepsake. I tell Donella as much and she says okay and turns back to the crowd, but her demeanor looks a little disappointed.

Was that rude?

Heat creeps up my neck and ears. I’ve been careful to follow Donella’s lead and, luckily enough, most social rules here are the same as I’m used to at home but this could be my first misstep. I definitely don’t want to offend Nell after they’ve been so kind and welcoming to me. Hot or not, I’d really love for us to at least be friends after this if we can.

My mind races with what options I have to solve this. She’s been holding on to it ever since I handed it to her after my turn with the potion pins, opting not to put it in her bag like she did the yarn and other items we’ve collected throughout the day. Maybe I should offer it to her?

“Would you like to keep it?”

“Oh no,” Donella sets it down on the table between us, “I have a hairbrush but … It’s been a long time since someone’s brushed my hair.”

Oh.

“Would you like me to brush your hair for you?” A soft, vulnerable Donella all but melts my heart. I reach across, grab her hand, and give it a squeeze.

“Yes, please.”

The second my brain registers that I can do something for them, it’s like a fresh wave of invigorating boldness rushes through my body; like I’d do anything to see their request granted. I tug their hand until their eyes are on mine.

“From now on, if you want something, just ask, okay?” I push all the butterflies I’ve been feeling throughout the day up and outand don’t drop my eyes from hers. It’s scary, but the bewildered look Donella is giving is making it worth it. Her little smile when she says okay just does me in and gives me just enough confidence to lean over to kiss her. It’s just a quick touch of her lips, and I sit back down, not wanting to press too quickly.

“Well don’t stop on my account,” Christine startles me for the second time today, walking over hand in hand with the booth master.

“We’re going to head off soon, just came over to say goodbye.”

Donella and Christine grab elbows, the general greeting here I’ve learned, and I wait to hug him.

“It was nice meeting you,” I say, “and you have a great booth, enjoy your night,” I grab elbows with the booth master.

“You as well,” Christine says, “I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

I don’t want to burst his bubble that I’ll be going home after the trial so I just nod and watch them go.

“I had a fantastic day out here Donella, thanks for showing me around.”

“You’re more than welcome, Lellies.” That goddamn dimple. On the heels of my moment of bravery, I grab Donella’s hand and we walk like that all the way home, and I can’t help but feel a little spark in my heart for Nellie.

five

. . .

We’re nearingDonella’s front door when I get a seatbelt arm swiped across me.

“Someone’s here,” Donella whispers.

I feel the buzz before I hear it and, for a moment, I am mesmerized by the sprite-like stars that dance between her horns making both a tinkling sound with a sort of low-pitched hum underneath it. I never considered that her music therapy was fueled by an actual power she had, but it makes so much sense now. It’s beautiful, and the fact that this magic can be both healinganddangerous is alluring. I feel silly, and slightly aroused, but maybe that’s because of her crouched stance, the crease in her brow, and the knowledge that it’s all to protect me.

“Wait here.”Yes thaddy.

Donella slowly makes their way to the front door and brushes her hand swiftly across the pane. Light from inside sweeps across their face slowly before they stand straight up and swing the door open.

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