“Impressive,” she nearly whispered.
He flashed a shy smile.
“Where did you learn to do that?” Sebastian asked. “I played with a slingshot as a kid, but I had terrible aim.”
Ken hesitated. He toyed with the rubber strips. “I’m decent with a bow and arrow too, but not as comfortable with them as a slingshot.”
“Makes perfect sense,” Hijiri said. He hadn’t answered Sebastian’s question, but how could he? He hadn’t lived long enough to have practiced at a skill. Love obviously gave him some remarkable talents. “Think of the cupids. As one of Love’s creations, Ken must have the same abilities.”
“I can’t fly,” he admitted.
Mirthe sighed. “Now, that’s a shame.”
Ken was going to give another demonstration with his slingshot when Martin came running, Nico on his heels.
“Weapons and horseplay are strictly forbidden on campus,” Martin said, every inch the student government president.
“Good morning to you too,” Sebastian said.
Martin held out his hand. “I’m going to have to confiscate your slingshot. You can have it back at the end of the day.”
“Can the president do that?” Mirthe whispered.
“Better him than an assistant principal,” Femke whispered back.
Being separated from his slingshot was not an appealing option to Ken. His eyes darted from the slingshot and back to Martin. With a sigh, he handed it over.
Hijiri placed her hand on Martin’s wrist. “Ken doesn’t know the rules.”
“Kentaro Oshiro, transfer student?” Martin asked. His expression relaxed. “I’m sorry, but I really can’t give you back the slingshot until school’s over. I’m aware of your situation. If you have any questions, don’t be embarrassed to ask us.”
“Did we miss Ken’s interrogation?” Nico asked cheerfully.
“We’ll fill you in later,” Fallon said.
“You told Nico and Martin too?” Hijiri asked.
Fallon flashed an apologetic smile. “I thought it would be best if everyone in our club knew.”
Hijiri nodded.
The seconds scattered. Ken’s eyes met hers. He was nervous all over again. She could tell because he grabbed both straps in a white-knuckled grip. He wasn’t even paying attention to the twins’ theories on why Love hadn’t given him wings.
She wanted to tell him that he would be okay. That his slingshot would be returned. That tomorrow wouldn’t be as bad as the first day. But she wasn’t used to offering comfort beyond giving people love charms. “Don’t worry so much,” she finally said. “You’ll find a way to blend in.”
Ken’s grip on his backpack straps loosened, just a little.
The bell rang. Students dispersed in different directions. Hijiri looked at her class schedule; first period would be algebra with Mr. De Pelsmaeker. Before leaving, she asked Ken if he needed help finding his class.
“I’m going to the orientation,” he said.
Fallon froze. “Don’t eat the casserole.”
“Actually, you probably should,” Sebastian said. “Don’t want to upset Principal Bemelmans.”
“Just be careful. Food poisoning is not fun.” Fallon cracked a smile. Punctual to a fault, she hooked her arm through Sebastian’s and said good-bye to the group.
At the mention of orientation, Martin paled and searched his file folder for the latest rewrite of his speech. When he couldn’t find it, he started shaking.
Ken shifted his weight. “Maybe we should get going.”
“Wait,” Hijiri said.
Nico gently took the folder from Martin and searched through each of the pockets. He found the speech toward the back, stuck against an old syllabus. “Even without this, you’ll do just fine,” Nico said.
“My last speech,” Martin said wistfully.
“Yes, and it will be your best. I’ve got just the charm for you.” Nico wiggled his fingers and cupped Martin’s face. He pressed a short but soft kiss to his boyfriend’s lips.
Martin kept his eyes closed a little longer, as if hoping Nico’s charm needed more time to work. He was blushing, but not as flustered as he had been when he and Nico started dating last spring.
Hijiri felt proud of the two boys. “We can go now,” she told Ken.
Ken fell into step beside her as they joined the rush of students crossing the lawn. “That wasn’t a charm, was it?” Ken asked.
She shook her head. “Nico would never use a charm on Martin.”
“That’s good,” Ken said.
Hijiri frowned. “Shouldn’t you know a love charm when you see it?”
“Maybe Love forgot that with the wings,” he said.
* * *
Now that Hijiri was a sophomore, she had earned the privilege of wasting time during homeroom watching orientation from the third-floor windows. Mr. De Pelsmaeker even opened the classroom windows for them so that they could smell the casserole and excitement wafting while they peered down at the freshmen.
Freshmen orientation had been a blur for her. Tables enticed the new students to become part of the community early. Local charm-makers talked about their disciplines and interviewed for potential apprentices, should a freshman already know what type of charm-making he or she wanted to pursue. Other tables gave out information on clubs and school programs.
Hijiri tried to see if Ken had taken a piece of the principal’s casserole, but he was hard to spot from that height. She thought she might have seen him at the office-experience program booth, but she couldn’t be sure with students rushing from table to table. She gave up after a few minutes and found her seat. When homeroom ended, Hijiri didn’t have to move since Mr. De Pelsmaeker was her first-period teacher too for algebra. Mr. De Pelsmaeker stapled the class’s worksheets while reminiscing about his own freshmen orientation many years ago. His white hair was almost translucent and his vest had seen better days, but Hijiri was glad that when it came down to teaching, the man could explain exponents perfectly.
She drifted through the school day in much the same fashion as she had last year. She found seats in the back of classrooms, where she could either stare out a window or stare at inspirational posters on the dull, cream-colored walls. She took notes as each teacher discussed major projects and exam dates, but her margins were dedicated to doodles and ideas about love charms. Ken wasn’t in any of her classes.
* * *
Martin made good on his promise of getting them an appointment with Principal Bemelmans that day. The principal’s office was located at the very top of the main office—the rooms above the old gate. Hijiri had never been beyond the front office, where sleepy secretaries and office-experience program students fielded calls and took care of minor emergencies. As she climbed the steps to his office, she felt dizzy. Everything was riding on earning the principal’s approval. If they failed here, they wouldn’t be able to compete.
Principal Bemelmans’s square-shaped office had windows on three walls that provided an excellent view of the campus below. Because of the constant sunlight, his certificates and degrees had faded in their frames. The principal himself was tall, tanned, and handsome, with a graying mustache and sideburns. Hijiri tried to pick out the details Fallon would have noticed in order to share them with her later. The exercise distracted her from her thumping heart. She wiped her sweaty palms on her skirt.
“Entering the competition is a heavy commitment,” Principal Bemelmans said, steepling his fingers.
“One that we can handle,” Femke said.
“Or would you rather let three outsiders compete for the title of Grimbaud’s Best Love Charm-Maker?” Mirthe asked.
Femke jabbed her twin with her elbow, but it was too late.
Principal Bemelmans frowned. “It doesn’t matter where they’ve come from. These are the love charm-makers we have now, and they deserve our respect.”
“Then it doesn’t matter what age we are,” Mirthe said, “or how far along with our charm-ma
king skills. Our club has a love charm-maker. Let her participate.”
“Which one of you?”
Hijiri stepped forward.
The principal appraised her. He untangled his fingers and rubbed his chin. “Miss Kitamura, why do you and your club want to participate? Tell me in your own words.”
Hijiri pulled an acorn out of her pocket. She held the acorn between her thumb and index finger. This was a simple charm, but one that took a great bit of effort and earned her numerous paper cuts over the summer. She twisted the top off the acorn, and a garden of miniature paper roses floated out and spun in the air. The words I love you burned like a firework and the paper roses crumbled to dust. Easy cleanup for a surprise romantic gesture.
Principal Bemelmans had watched the little charm with unmasked awe. His gaze flickered from the empty acorn to her eyes.
“Words aren’t as powerful,” she said, tucking the acorn back in her pocket, “but if you want an answer, it’s simply this: because I must.”
The twins were smiling so hard their cheeks looked ready to split. She didn’t look behind her to see Sebastian’s, Martin’s, and Nico’s reactions, but she felt their support. The cramped office buzzed with energy.
Principal Bemelmans reached across his desk to shake her hand.
Hijiri swore that the bobblehead cupid on the desk winked at her.
* * *
After school, Hijiri came over to Fallon’s apartment. Fallon kept her apartment tidy and covered her walls with vintage restaurant posters. Her furnishings looked like new because of the high-quality antiques she bought. The space could be a little uncomfortable with its cleanliness, but Hijiri noticed with some amusement that Sebastian’s touches showed up here and there: a magnetized list of fast-food numbers on the fridge and cassette tapes stacked haphazardly on her desk.
They brewed mint tea. Hijiri sat cross-legged on the floor, taking small sips from her clay cup, while Fallon tried finding the most efficient way to pack her school supplies in the new leather bag her brother had bought her. While the feminine briefcase with golden locks looked very smart, it was impractical. The pockets were stiff. Fallon’s folder just barely fit when she wedged it inside between her pencil case and planner.
“At least it’s pretty,” Hijiri said. “And obviously quality.”
“That’s exactly what I told Robbie. But I really wish I could use it. There’s just not enough room,” Fallon said.
Hijiri had left her own school supplies where they were in her bag, a messy heap of loose pens and pencils, her notebook cover already creased when crushed between two textbooks. She bit her lip and blurted, “What do you think about Ken?”
Fallon unzipped her pencil case. “He seems nice.”
“What I mean is the idea of him. It’s not fair. Love just shoved this guy at me. Said I’m bound to fall in love with him. I hate it. I don’t want to be forced to like him, just because Love said so. Plus, he’s made of charms. I love charm-making, but I’d never marry my own charms.”
Fallon separated her pens and pencils on the floor. She rubbed her upper lip, considering each one. “If it were me, I’d be happy to have met The Boy so easily.”
Hijiri groaned. “That’s because you expected to meet him.”
“And you didn’t?” Fallon looked up. “I remember our first rebellion meeting. How you cried because you wanted someone to love you as you were.”
She did remember that. At the time, what she wanted had been so clear. Loneliness gnawed at her, from her empty home to watching the people around her come together as couples, two by two. When she came to Grimbaud, she wanted a romance of her own. But what she got had been more valuable: friends, real friends, and a chance to become a great love charm-maker. The few dates she had gone on were disappointing and made her question her own heart. It was more a secret to her than ever.
“I don’t understand my heart,” Hijiri confessed.
Fallon grabbed Hijiri’s hands and squeezed. “Hearts are complicated. It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not.”
Fallon frowned. “You can’t know everything. Try this: while you’re studying Ken, pay attention to what your own heart is doing.”
Hijiri huffed, smoothing down her bangs. Her friend was right, somewhat. She needed to look at this like an experiment. Experiments were simple: engage and observe. Record results. She could handle that.
“Trust Love,” Fallon said.
“What does that mean?”
Fallon laughed. “It means relax. Besides, you have a competition to start thinking about.”
Hijiri cracked a smile. They spent another hour talking and trying to arrange Fallon’s supplies in the bag before saying good night.
* * *
When the stars came out, Hijiri stepped outside her apartment and breathed in the humidity. The complex wasn’t quiet. Lights were on in many of the apartments. Students shared first-day stories with their friends out on the patio.
She put on her sheer cardigan before climbing the stairs. The higher she rose, the more she could see. When she reached the top, she sat on the highest step and rested her elbows on her knees. Moonlight covered the town in shadows and silver strokes of light.
Then she felt a presence beside her.
Ken mimicked her pose. He wore the free T-shirt that the student government officers gave out during orientation; it looked the same as last year’s, with the school’s crest on the front.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“I recognized your silhouette on the stairs,” Ken said, brushing his knee against hers. He smelled clean, like evergreen with a touch of sweetness.
Hijiri forgot Fallon’s challenge and mentally shoved her heart into a box before it could react. “Did you hear about the love charm-making competition?”
“You’ve entered,” he said, nodding. He’d heard the news from Sebastian when he bumped into him at the complex. “I’m proud to be a member of such a prestigious club.”
“You’re joining?”
“Of course.”
Hijiri picked at her cardigan’s sleeve. “Our club has a lot of history, you know. We’ve changed this town.”
Ken nodded solemnly. “Tell me about it?”
Hijiri drew in a sharp breath. Should she? It wasn’t information she could share with just anyone. Even Fallon’s friends, Anais and Bear, didn’t know about the rebellion.
Ken nudged her knee with his. “If I’m a fake-boy, then telling me shouldn’t be dangerous. I could disappear at any moment and your secrets would die with me.”
Hijiri squirmed at the mention of death, but he had a point. While she couldn’t trust him with her heart, she could share this story with him. He was one of them, figment or not, because of his undeniable connection to Love. She felt sure that Love would want him to know.
“You’re thinking,” Ken said with a smile.
“Love didn’t say anything to you?”
“I think Love wants me to find the answers on my own,” Ken said. “I want to hear it from you.”
Hijiri blushed and looked away. “You know how the club’s entered the charm-making competition?”
Ken flashed her an encouraging smile. “Yes. Go on.”
“Well, it’s not about me, really.”
“But you want to be the best love charm-maker, right? This is the perfect way to show Grimbaud how talented you are,” Ken said, eyebrows furrowed.
His easy belief in her threatened to knock the lid off her mental box. Hijiri crushed it back down with her skepticism. How would he know how good I am at crafting love charms? Where is his confidence coming from? She shook her head. “I want that, yes, but there’s so much more at stake. Fallon and I saw the new love charm-makers yesterday.”
“Your competition,” Ken said.
“Each of them is a threat to this town,” Hijiri whispered. “We hoped that having new love charm-makers in Grimbaud after years of no one but Zita would be a positive start for the town. Bu
t I’m scared, Ken. These charm-makers have the potential to wreak havoc on Grimbaud just as Zita did.”
Ken hesitated. “I’ve heard of Zita.”
“From Love?”
“Of course,” Ken said, looking down at his knees. “I know that she took over this town because her fortunes were so perfect. Love said she sold one-hundred-percent-accurate love fortunes. They were never wrong. So what happened to her? Why is she gone?”
“Zita only made it look like her fortunes were perfect,” Hijiri whispered. He had to lean in to hear her. “She had made a bargain with Love and had too much of their power at her disposal. Over the years, she let her own heartbreak fester until her thirst for revenge took over. But destroying the lives of the man who left her at the altar and his family wasn’t enough. I think she enjoyed the thrill of playing with people’s hearts and lives. She decided who would fall in love, who would break up, who would marry and divorce. Whether true or not, some people got fortunes saying that they would never fall in love. Zita controlled them too. She made sure she broke their spirits with the town’s help. They became spinsters and bachelors because she said so.”
“No one fought back?”
“How can you fight fate?” Hijiri asked. “If people tried fighting her in the past, she either drove them out of town or silenced them.”
Ken raised his eyebrows. “Where does the charm theory club come in?”
“The club was just a cover for us. Femke and Mirthe started our rebellion. I don’t think Grimbaud’s ever been home to two people as stubborn or mischievous as the twins.” Hijiri laughed softly. “We worked together to fight Zita. The twins used their fiercest weather charms. Fallon was the bravest I’ve ever seen her. Sebastian almost lost his life that night. But thanks to Love, one of my charms helped save him.”
Ken soaked up her words, barely breathing. “And Zita’s really gone now?”
“Forever.”
“But these love charm-makers can hurt the town in a similar way if they gain the town’s trust through this competition. I understand.” Ken slid his hand on top of hers. “Thank you for telling me. I know it wasn’t easy.”
Love Charms and Other Catastrophes Page 5