Spells Like Teen Spirit Page 21

  We walked into the kitchen, where Dad was sitting at the kitchen table doing the crossword puzzle.

  “Sleep well?” he said, looking up, “Aw, I see that Esme has let you borrow what I lovingly refer to as her ‘positive attitude’ sweater.”

  “Yeah,” Mallory said, smiling. “This sweater is super warm, and that couch is super comfy. Pig is kind of like having a white-noise machine and a space heater, all rolled into one fur ball.” Pig was currently lying on Dad’s feet, and she gave a sigh at hearing herself talked about.

  Dad gave her a little shove, and then stood up. He was dressed in his gym clothes. “I thought I’d hit the gym this morning,” he said with a little half-hearted smile. No doubt it was a bittersweet freedom, because when Mom had been living with us, Dad and I had had to carefully coordinate our schedules to make sure she wasn’t left home alone. “You need me to drop you off anywhere?”

  “Yeah, actually, that’d be great,” I said. “We’re just going to Brian’s.” I could see Dad give a little pause, but then he just nodded and grabbed his keys. It was a relief to have things out in the open now, but I’m sure it still seemed weird to him that Brian, who he’d thought for years was an old football buddy, was my Counsel. And that Brian did things like host brunches.

  Mallory and I gave Pig a few goodbye pets, and I sent Cass a text telling her we didn’t need a ride. Pig looked mournful at being left behind. “I’d let you come to brunch, girlie,” I said, “but white dog hair and Brian’s indigo couch do not mix.” We followed Dad out to his car, and I let Mallory have the front seat. As Dad drove, he played tour guide and pointed out notable Spring River attractions. “That used to be a great little record store,” he said, nodding toward an H&R Block. “Esme would have loved it.” A few blocks later. “You see that McDonald’s? Well, two summers ago, someone drove right through the drive-thru, and took the whole thing out.” I couldn’t tell if Mallory was genuinely entertained or if she was just playing along, but she laughed a lot and asked a few questions. She was also incredibly surprised at how quickly we arrived.

  “Wait, so this is across town?” she asked as she unbuckled her seat belt. “It only took five minutes!”

  “Perks of small-town life,” Dad said. “Shorter commutes mean more time to watch TV!”

  “Do you want to come in and say hi?” I asked Dad as I followed Mallory out of the car. “I’m sure Brian would love to see you.”

  “That’s okay,” Dad said, forcing himself to smile. “I’m sure you guys have lots of official business to go over, and I’d better get to the gym. That stationary bike isn’t going to ride itself.”

  “Speaking of rides,” Mallory said, “thanks for this one.”

  “No problem,” he replied. “Es, you’ll call me if you need me to come pick you up?” I nodded. “All right, have fun,” he said, “and stay out of trouble.” He gave the horn a little beep as he drove away.

  “Your dad is really nice,” she said.

  “Yeah,” I agreed, nodding, not wanting to spend too much time thinking about how Dad’s life was pretty much in the blender these days. “Now let’s go get some brunch. Fingers crossed that Brian made French toast.”

  We were headed up the walk to Brian’s front door when I heard a distinctively terrible sound and turned to see Dion’s van round the corner, Cassandra driving and Ruby waving at us from the passenger seat. From the other direction, a totally different sound—that of squealing tires—announced that Janis, Ji-A, and Amirah were arriving too. Cassandra parked across the street, and Janis parked right in front of Brian’s house, so close to the curb that one of her back wheels was on it. As the three of them tumbled out of the car, I could tell from their outfits that everyone had dressed for thrifting, and it was leggings all around. Amirah’s were—of course—black leather, and Ji-A’s slip-ons were limited-edition Nikes. I guess they were as ready as they were ever going to be for digging through piles of used pajamas.

  My phone started to ring, and when I looked down, I recognized Tom’s number. “Janis!” I said, waving her over, then holding out the phone. “It’s Tom! From…” My mind blanked on their name. “The band!” My heart started to pound. After last night, I was now paranoid that me showing up on their front porch had tipped them off to something, and I was even less looking forward to having them at the dance.

  The phone kept ringing, and Janis looked at me like she was waiting for me to do something. “Esme! Answer it!”

  Oh yeah. Of course. I hit the button. “Hello?”

  “Yeah, Esther?” he said.

  “This is Esme,” I said. “I mean, Esther Whatever.”

  “Yeah, I wanted to get your fax number so we can send over our rider.”

  “You want to fax over your rider,” I repeated, to make sure Janis could hear, and raised my eyebrows at her in question.

  “Fax is broken,” she mouthed at me, and then dug into her purse and pulled out a pen and piece of paper.

  “Uh, our fax machine is down,” I said to Tom, “but you can just tell me, and uh, we’ll make sure we have it.”

  “You got something to write it down?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I’ve got a pen.”

  “Okay,” he said. “We want chicken noodle soup.”

  “Chicken noodle soup,” I repeated. “Got it.” Janis looked at me like this was nuts, but then she wrote it down.

  “Three bottles of ranch dressing,” Tom said, and I repeated that too. “And it has to be Hidden Valley,” he added. “None of that generic ranch.”

  “Oh, Tom,” I said, “we would never do generic ranch.” Janis sputtered and sprayed spittle onto the paper she was writing on, which seemed appropriate.

  “Tomato soup,” Tom continued, “veggie chili, cream of mushroom, and beef stew.” I snorted, and tried to cover it with a cough, then repeated the latest demands. Janis was bent over the hood of her car, scrawling everything I said.

  “Grape juice and root beer,” he said. “Any brand of root beer is fine.”

  “Noted,” I said, and waited, but Tom was silent. It appeared that after listing several types of soup, brand-name ranch dressing, and two very mediocre beverages, he was done.

  I couldn’t help myself. “You guys don’t want any chips, candy, or cheese and crackers?” I asked. “A bag of baby carrots?”

  “No way,” Tom said, suddenly sounding stern. “And if any of that junk is in the green room, we will lose our crap and won’t play.”

  “Got it,” I said. “Not even a single baby carrot.” I shook my head at myself, since I could not believe the words coming out of my mouth. “So, I will see you tonight.”

  “Oh,” he said, stopping me, “one more thing. A blender. A nice one. High-speed. Sharp blades. Very powerful.”

  I mean, good God? Who were these people? “Got it,” I said. “High-speed, powerful, sharp blender.” Janis looked at me like I was the weirdo, but she wrote it down.

  “Yeah,” he said. “And who’s gonna help us load in?”

  Load in? What did that mean? “Uh, yeah,” I said, “me and my friend Janis.”

  “You?” Tom scoffed. “You’re scrawny.”

  “Looks can be deceiving,” I said. “I’m very strong, and so is Janis.” Tom’s manners were to be expected, and all he did was grunt again and hang up the phone. I stood there confused. Was I scared of these guys? In almost every way, they were just pathetic. Except they might have kidnapped Circe, and their house was dripping in Red Magic that made me want to ralph. I sighed, and tucked my phone away.

  Amirah had hung back to wait with us, and she raised her eyebrows at me. “Honestly, that is the weirdest rider I have ever heard of,” she said. “And when Harry Styles played my sweet sixteen, all he asked for was three kinds of lip balm and frozen raspberries.”

  I looked over Janis’s shoulder at the list.
“I guess we can just go to the store later?” I said.

  “Nice blenders are expensive,” Janis said. “My mom treats our Vitamix like it’s her third born.”

  I sighed, and started toward Brian’s house.

  “So, what do you think is up with these guys anyway?” Amirah said. “They seem lame.”

  “They are lame,” I said, “but also evil.” I told her and Janis about how Ruby and I had felt walking up to their house.

  “I hope they don’t bring that with them,” Janis said. “I am suddenly having second thoughts about inviting these guys into our school.”

  “I’ve been saying that from the…” I trailed off as I caught sight of Brian standing at the door and motioning for us to hurry up and get inside. No doubt not wanting to have to explain to his neighbors why he had seven teenage girls descending on his house on a Saturday morning. Maybe we could whip up some awards for Girl Scout Troop Leader of the Year and display them prominently in his window?

  At the Summit, the rest of the girls had been introduced to Brian’s aesthetic prowess when he’d put together the closing event. Until Wanda had hijacked it to try to simultaneously end the Sitterhood and give herself eternal youth, the party had been a tasteful après-ski-themed soiree, complete with fondue fountains, sleigh-ride photo ops, and lots of cozy sweaters. But still, that had hardly prepared them for what was waiting for us inside his front door. First off, the place smelled like bacon, maple syrup, and freshly ground coffee, and Brian had indeed made French toast. Or, rather, he had made tiny, star-shaped pieces of French toast for dipping into tiny pots of syrup. There was also a bagel board, with plain and everything, and different kinds of cream cheese, fresh herbs, red onions, and smoked salmon, something that had always sounded disgusting to me, but I had to admit it was really pretty.

  There was asparagus and eggs baked into puff pastries, silver-dollar pancakes topped with whipped cream, chocolate chips, and fresh berries. There were muffins, croissants, omelets, and coffee. So much coffee. Brian had even set out a carafe of iced, probably just for me. It melted my heart a little bit, because nothing says “I see you” like cold brew in February.

  “What?” Cassandra asked, putting her hands on her hips and looking around. “No beans on toast?” Brian started to sputter, but then she just smiled as she grabbed a piece of bacon. “I’m kidding. This looks great!” Ji-A, Janis, and Mallory had already whipped out their phones and were food-porning away, while Ruby was asking Brian if there was anything she could do to help, and Amirah was cooing over Brian’s house.

  “You know what?” she said. “This totally reminds me of Laura Dern’s place. You guys have very similar style. You know Laura Dern, right? The Oscar-winning actress?” Brian was nodding and offered Amirah a mimosa.

  “It’s virgin, of course,” he said. “Fresh-squeezed OJ and sparkling apple cider.”

  “That’s perfect,” Amirah said, “because I don’t drink.” Then she popped a couple of her THC mints into her mouth and took the glass from Brian.

  Everyone filled their plates—and Brian made a special green-ginger juice for Ruby—and then we sat down around his table, which had a totes adorbs desert-themed terrarium full of terra-cotta-colored rocks and tiny succulents.

  As we ate, we told everyone what had happened the night before at the band’s house, and everyone offered their theories for what the “big one” was. Ji-A guessed demon, while Brian suggested guitar teacher. Janis thought it could be a favored T-shirt. Mallory guessed a lucky rabbit’s foot, and that was when a light bulb came on for me.

  “It’s the talisman!” I said. “Maybe even the same one that Wanda was looking for! That could be what they were looking for when they broke into Cassandra’s house, because they are worried about the one they have now running out.”

  Brian nodded. “If they somehow came into possession of a talisman recently, that could explain why they are just now coming across our radar,” he said.

  “We’ll look for a talisman when we go back to the house tonight,” Ruby said, and Brian turned toward her.

  “I thought you already tried to look in and all the windows were covered,” Brian said, looking at her suspiciously.

  “Oh yeah,” she said. “I meant we’ll look in the yard and stuff. Again.”

  “Sure,” he said. “Sure you will.” Then Brian turned toward me, and I clenched up in anticipation of whatever was coming next. “So,” he said, “what is your plan for the dance?”

  “Janis and I will meet the band there at seven p.m., and they go on at eight,” I said.

  “And?” he said.

  “I’ll try my best to pretend like I’m exactly what I said I am,” I added, “a super fan.”

  “What’s the rest of the plan?” he said.

  “That is the plan,” I said, not quite sure what else he wanted.

  Brian shook his head, and then said the four worst words in the adult human language. “I’m disappointed in you.”

  I grabbed a mini quiche and stuffed it into my mouth. It was ham. I hated ham. Who liked ham? I forced it down and then stifled a sigh. “Crossing your fingers and hoping for the best is hardly a plan, much less protecting the innocent,” Brian continued. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me. The silence was uncomfortable, and when I swallowed, it practically echoed.

  I was used to being the passenger, and being along for the ride, but Brian was right. Cassandra was focused on finding Circe, as she should have been, and if I was going to the school with Janis, Amirah, and Ji-A in tow, then I was going to have to take charge, since I was the only one of us who knew the school and was also a Sitter. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that no plan WAS my plan.

  “Okay, so here’s what we know about them,” I said. “They’re four white guys who have an awful band that they think is really good. Nothing unusual there, at all. But we know that they were associates of Erebus, and from the spells around their house, we know that they are practicing Red Magic.” I paused and took a sip of coffee. “We also know their band took a fifteen-year break and only recently started playing again, and that none of them have aged a bit in that time. Hence, more evidence in favor of the idea that they recently came into possession of a talisman and were looking for another one when they broke into Cassandra’s house. But while we can assume that they are indeed evil, we are still not sure just how powerful they are, considering they, uh, all share one purple car, and that signs point to the fact that they think it is actually still 2002. So, as much as I hate to admit it, I think we have to try to keep whatever-their-name-is-this-week happy as long as possible, and hopefully for the entire time they’re at the dance. We need them to think that it’s a regular dance, and that everyone really loves them, at least until we know for sure what’s going on at their house. We might even”—I swallowed again—“have to buy some CDs.”

  “So, if they have all of these powers from Red Magic,” Ji-A said, looking up from her plate, where she’d been arranging blueberries in what looked like a constellation, “how do we take the powers away?”

  A loud, gaseous sound ripped through the air. All eyes at the table swiveled to Cassandra, who was in the midst of throttling a ketchup bottle that was protesting with all of its flatulent might as it squirted onto her plate. I saw Ruby watching her with an unreadable look in her eyes, and I wondered if we were all witnessing the moment when she discovered that her girlfriend was one of those people who put ketchup on everything. Cassandra, feeling everyone watching her, looked up and focused her gaze on Amirah. “You want?” she asked, holding out the bottle.

  “Thanks,” Amirah said. “I’m good.”

  “If Esme’s right, and they do have a talisman,” Ruby said, “then all we have to do is find it and take it away. Their powers will only work if they have access to it.”

  “What does this talisman look like?” Amirah aske
d.

  “We don’t know,” Brian said. “A talisman can be anything, and they could have more than one. So, if that is the case, then we have no idea what exactly it is you will be looking for.”

  “We’re looking for my mom,” Cassandra said. “When we find her, she might know what the talisman is.”

  We all nodded, and Ji-A cleared her throat. “From what I understand, in the past when Sitters were caught using Red Magic, their memories were stripped and they were exiled,” she said. “Can’t we just do that with these guys? Then, even if we didn’t find the talisman they were looking for, they wouldn’t remember that it existed.”

  “Maybe we can just flush ’em all?” I said. “They can get the old band back together in the netherworld. Rock out with their…” I caught myself before I went too far. “Shirts off.”

  “I mean, that is my idea of hell,” Janis said. “But I’d kinda feel bad for the demons who are already in the Negative.”

  Brian stood up and started clearing dishes, and Ji-A and Ruby stood up to join him. “I’ll make some calls this afternoon to see what I can find out,” he said, taking my plate from me. “But regardless, all of your attention tonight needs to be focused on making sure nothing goes wrong at that dance.” Ji-A went to grab Cassandra’s plate, but Cass snatched it back, apparently planning on going back for thirds. Or maybe it was fourths?

  I sighed. “I know,” I said, then held up my hands. “B., I know you’re not going to like this, but hear me out.” He stood there, holding dirty dishes and staring at me. “I think I need to spell the entire student body.”

  “Hahaha,” he said. “That’s a funny joke. Wait, tell me you are joking.”

  I shook my head. “I wish I were,” I said, “but the band will know something is up if everyone hates their music, and the students will riot if they’re subjected to music that isn’t the same three songs they hear on the radio.”