I think back to prom night. Josh and I made out in the kitchen for all of five minutes before I whispered in his ear,asking him where his bedroom was. I’d thought we were alone. I’d been irritated about it. People at parties were supposed to linger in the kitchen—they weresupposedto see us, talk about the fact that we were climbing all over each other. The gossip was supposed to get back to Roya. But there hadn’t been anyone else in the kitchen to see his tongue in my mouth. I remember being annoyed, but also not wanting to make out with him for longer than was strictly necessary, so I just figured I’d get it over with.
But Gina must have been there after all. I try to remember, but … I can’t. I remember Josh, and his hands moving from my waist to my butt, and the too-soft, too-wet way he kissed me. Tongue-first. I remember my heart pounding. I remember opening my eyes and trying to see past his nose, trying to see the rest of the room, trying to see if anyone else was there. I remember the way he nodded when I asked if we could go upstairs—two short, sharp twitches of his head, and then he was grabbing my hand and leading me out of the kitchen.
But I don’t remember seeing Gina at all.
Shit.
“Look, we weren’t a … acouple,” I say in a low voice once the freshmen are gone. “It just kind of happened. It’s not a thing. I don’t want people to know because …” I hesitate—then inspiration strikes. “Because I don’t want to take the attention away from people looking for him.” It comes out in a rush.
Gina frowns at me. “Well … I mean. I guess that makessense,” she says slowly. “But you should at least tell the police that you saw him that night, right?”
“Oh yeah, totally,” I lie. “I talked to them already.”
“I mean, maybe what you did to him has something to do with why he disappeared,” she says casually. She shifts her weight from one leg to the other. Her head tilts to one side. “Don’t you think?” I walk to my locker without saying anything, trying to buy time. Gina follows me. “What was it?” she asks softly. “A love potion?”
I pull my locker door open too hard, and the bang of the metal echoes through the hallway. “What are you talking about, Gina?” I snap.
“Well, if you guys didn’t know each other at all, I’m assuming you did some … you know.” She wiggles her fingers at me. I stare into my locker, not seeing the contents. I’ve temporarily forgotten what lockers are for, what books are for, where I am. Behind me, a few people are filtering into the hallway.
“You’re assuming I did somewhat?” I whisper.
“Some magic,” Gina whispers back. I look at her, and she’s smiling at me. It’s a little smile, a secret smile, like we’re sharing something. Like we’re friends. She’s too close. I can smell her lip gloss.
“Some magic,” I repeat slowly.
“You know. Like, how you and your friends do things.”
I come to my senses. It’s like someone’s thrown a bucket of cold water over my head. I laugh, a loud, bright, hard laugh that makes Gina flinch. “Wow,” I say, shoving things from mybackpack into my locker at random. “You’re hilarious, Gina. I mean … I didn’t take you for the dark humor type, but honestly, that’s just way too funny.”
She’s looking at me very strangely. “I don’t get you,” she says. “You know I’m not joking. You can tell me.”
I shake my head at her and close my locker. “Seriously, you’re a riot,” I say, grinning at her with all my teeth. I start walking toward the cafeteria. If I’m lucky, Marcelina will be in there and we can split a bagel and I can forget about this whole conversation.
Gina grabs my arm. “Stop!” She’s too loud in the corridor, and the couple of other students who are crossing through the hall turn to look. She smiles at them awkwardly. I shake her hand off me. “Just stop,” she says again. “I know about—Alexis, where are you going? Come on—”
She’s trailing after me, but I can’t stop walking. A kind of numbness is taking over my arms and legs. Everything looks gray. The edges of my vision are vibrating.Gina knows?
She can’t know about the magic, too. She shouldn’t know about Josh and me making out, but shereally, reallycan’t know about the magic. We’ve been careful. We all have.
Haven’t we?
With a sick feeling, I realize that we haven’t. We used to be so cautious. We all know that we’re different, that we have something people want. We’ve never needed to swear each other to secrecy because it’s obvious to us what the consequences could be if the world found out about ourpowers. We’ve seen enough movies and read enough novels to understand what happens to magic girls. But lately, we’ve gotten … comfortable. I think of Maryam doing my nails in class. I think of myself at the reservoir, drying Roya off with a thread of power. I think of all the little things—the ways we’ve fixed each other’s hair and mended each other’s damaged clothes, the ways we’ve grown so comfortable with each other that it’s second nature to expend a little magic helping each other out. I realize that anyone who was watching us closely would know right away what we are.
And apparently, Gina’s been watching.
“Look, I don’t know why you’re so freaked out about this,” she says. “I just want to talk to you about it. Unless you and your witch-friends did somethingwrong—”
I stumble. It’s a little thing—my feet betraying me, tripping over nothing at all. The sole of my sneaker makes a loud squeak against the linoleum. I turn to see Gina holding a hand out, as if she’s going to catch me. A small trickle of red oozes out from one of her tear ducts. My fingertips are burning.
Behind her, Iris stands frozen in the hall, watching us. She’s holding her How Does Magic Work journal in one hand and a highlighter in the other. She’s backlit by one of the fluorescents that’s actually turned on, and her hair forms a halo of orange curls around her face.
“Oh my god,” Gina breathes. “Wait … did you do something to him? You and your … your friends? Did you do something?”
“Of course not,” I reply sharply. I don’t know what the right reaction is. How would an innocent person answer this question? My phone is still going off, and I make a mental note to put my text notifications on silent. “I don’t know what your problem is, but this is honestly the most ridiculous conversation I’ve ever had.” Over Gina’s shoulder, Iris stares at me with wide eyes. “I don’t even know you, but you, what? You think you’re Veronica Fucking Mars? You think you know all these big secrets about me?” I take a step toward Gina, and she steps backward. “This is seriously the most we’ve ever talked, and you’re accusing me of—” The word “murder” sticks in my throat. I shake my head instead. “I don’t know what your deal is, Gina, but this conversation isover.”
Gina brushes her fingers against her face as if there’s a bug on her cheek, then does a double-take, noticing the redness on her fingers. She touches her cheek again. The tiny smear of redness there spreads into a garish stripe. She’s not bleeding any more than that, but it’s enough to put panic in her eyes. “I don’t think so,” she whispers. Her voice is shaking, and I can’t tell yet if she’s mad or scared. “I don’t think it’s over until we’ve talked to the police.”
“What are you going to tell them?” I ask. “That I’m Harry Potter? That I cast some kind ofmagic spellon Josh?” I wiggle my fingers at Gina the way she wiggled hers at me. She flinches away from me, but then she squares her shoulders and looks at me with a grim frown.