by Kieran Scott
But then I saw Hephaestus eyeing us over his shoulder and remembered this morning. Perhaps blunt wasn’t the way to go. Charlie clearly liked Darla, so insulting her might upset him. But he wasn’t gushing about her, so I didn’t think I had to either.
“Well, she’s pretty,” I said carefully. “And nice.” This was not a lie, considering how she’d warned me about the True-ly Awful website. “But she’s a bit more into clothes and stuff than you, isn’t she? Like always worried about how she—and other people—look?”
Charlie’s face fell. “Yeah, maybe. She does keep asking me to come to her boutique and shop.”
“Me too!” I said.
“Maybe she runs a secret makeover program for new students,” Charlie said with a laugh.
“Maybe,” I replied. “But anyway, if you’re happy . . . I’m happy.”
But you’re not, so I’m going to find you the right person. I swear, I added silently. If I could possibly figure out who that person was.
Powers of observation, I thought, looking at Hephaestus. Hone your powers of observation.
“Well, thanks,” he said. “That’s really . . .”
Charlie was distracted as Katrina walked by us, clutching her black notebook to her chest. Her gaze was trained on the floor as she brushed by him, and I saw his muscles tense. He followed her with his eyes but didn’t turn. There was something about that body language. . . . I felt a subtle tingle down my spine.
“Nice, I meant to say,” he finished, chuckling at himself. “That’s really nice. So, I’ll see you after class?”
Then he turned and grabbed the seat next to Katrina’s at the back of the room. She tucked her hair behind her ear and smiled, not exactly in his direction, but there was a definite darkening of her skin as he sat next to her. The tingling intensified. I felt like I was under some kind of spell, and I couldn’t move lest I break it. Then Darla came in, saw where Charlie was sitting, and huffily took a seat in the third row.
“You all right?” Hephaestus asked, maneuvering his chair in next to me.
“I’m exercising my powers of observation,” I told him. Slowly I lowered myself into the chair, keeping one eye on Charlie and Katrina as the bell rang.
“Listen up, everyone, today’s the day!” Mr. Chin lifted a stack of papers from his desk. “These are your compatibility tests! You’re going to spend today’s class period filling these out, and tomorrow I will announce the names of your soul mates.” He paused as he dropped a few of the papers on the first desk. “For the purposes of this class, anyway.”
Katrina and Charlie exchanged a fleeting glance, and now Charlie’s skin was the color of cooked lobster. Katrina wrapped the fringe on the end of her blue scarf around and around her finger. Darla glanced over her shoulder at Charlie and he froze, snagged. It was a split second, but I saw it. He was worried that Darla had seen him getting googly-eyed over Katrina, and he forced a smile.
Apparently that was enough for Darla, because she faced forward again, grinning. Charlie, however, reached across his desk and gripped the far edge like a marooned pirate clinging to a piece of driftwood for dear life.
This was great. This was beyond great. Charlie was interested in Katrina. Now if only Katrina would dump that brutish meathead she was living with and wake up and smell the adorable . . . Gods, this could really be it.
The boy in front of Katrina handed her a blank test.
Please let me get matched up with Charlie.
Katrina’s voice. As clear as day. Inside my head. I almost fell out of my chair. Had I really heard that? Two weeks ago, when I had my powers, I would have had no doubt. Hearing the voices of the lovelorn was something I lived with every day of my eternal existence. It was something I could tune in to or out of intrinsically, with as much thought as I gave to breathing. But now . . . was it possible? Had I used my power?
I stared at Katrina and concentrated as hard as I could.
Say something, I begged silently. Please, please give me something else.
Silence. Awful, disappointing silence. It was as if a wall of ice had gone up between us. I tried Charlie, too, but the only sounds were pencils scratching on paper, and that relentless clock ticking above the door. I must have imagined it. The disappointment was deep, but I chose not to focus on that. For the first time since I’d been on Earth, I felt a match to my core.
Katrina and Charlie.
Charlie and Katrina.
They were both kind and mature. Both artistic. Both considerate. Both in need of true friendship—true understanding—and looking for it in all the wrong places—Katrina with her so-called friends, who clearly didn’t care about her and her clueless boyfriend, Charlie pursuing the popular crowd like being in with them would somehow make him whole.
But if they could get together, if they could be there for each other, they could make each other whole.
There were, of course, a few roadblocks. Katrina did have a boyfriend with whom she was currently living, but he didn’t hold a candle to Charlie. And Charlie was with Darla, but that was four days old if anything, and he didn’t seem particularly excited about it. I could do this. I could fix it. I could spark true love between them. I was sure of it.
Hephaestus had already taken out a pencil and started to fill out his test. I grabbed his arm, my fingers squeezing the hard leather of his jacket.
“Write Charlie Cox at the top,” I hissed.
“What? Why?” Hephaestus asked.
I glanced back at Charlie, who was breezing through his test.
“I have an idea.”
Hephaestus followed my gaze, then tilted his head. “If you say so.”
He filled in Charlie’s name and started in on the multiple-choice questions. I wrote Katrina’s name at the top of my test and waited for Hephaestus to finish. Then, while Mr. Chin was busy reading, I grabbed Hephaestus’s paper. I copied down his answers, making my answer sheet a duplicate of his save for two responses. Then I sat back to watch the clock. With three minutes left in the class, Mr. Chin looked up.
“Everybody finished?” he asked.
There was a general shuffling of feet, but no one said a word.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Mr. Chin said. “Any volunteers to collect the tests?”
I jumped out of my chair. “Me! I’ll do it!”
Mr. Chin’s eyebrows shot up. “Thank you for your enthusiasm, True. Go to it.”
I walked around the room, gathering the test papers, making sure to keep mine and Hephaestus’s on the top. When I got to Katrina and Charlie, I put theirs on the bottom. Mr. Chin was still reading, and the students were starting to dissolve into conversation.
“What did you put for number three?”
“What was up with that question about the berries?”
“If I get stuck with Daniel DeMarco, I’ll die.”
My heart pounded as I approached the front of the room, Hephaestus watching me with interest. It was now or never. I “tripped” over Stacey’s bag, and the papers went flying. Stacey and her friend gasped. Mr. Chin pushed his chair back. The room erupted in laughter and applause. The one day I wasn’t being mocked for my clothes, and I’d gone and done this.
But it was a small price to pay. Before Mr. Chin could even get up from his desk, I folded Katrina and Charlie’s papers into my pocket.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Chin,” I muttered as he knelt to help me.
“Accidents happen,” he replied. “No worries.”
I handed him my stack and he straightened it together with his own.
“You okay?” Mr. Chin asked kindly.
At that moment the bell rang. I smiled.
“I’m fine,” I told him. “Thanks. I think this project is going to be very . . . useful.”
His eyes narrowed. “I’m glad you approve.”
Katrina was one of the first out the door. Charlie stopped to talk to Darla.
“What did you put for the last one?” she asked him immediately.
His eyes darted toward the hall. Longing for Katrina, I was sure. “Um . . . I don’t remember.”
I joined Hephaestus as he wheeled over the threshold.
“Got the tests?” he said under his breath.
“Yep,” I told him, closing my fist around them deep inside my pocket.
“See? I knew you could do it,” Hephaestus said. “You, my friend, are an evil genius.”
I grinned back. “Only on my good days.”
CHAPTER FORTY
True
Please let this work, I prayed the following afternoon, hoping Zeus actually wasn’t listening in. Please, please, please.
Mr. Chin had already announced and “married” five couples, and Charlie and Katrina were still single. But so were Stacey and Darla and a dozen others. This could either go very right, or very, very wrong.
“Our next lucky couple is . . . Darla and Daniel!” Mr. Chin announced.
“Yes!” a scrawny boy in a plaid shirt cheered.
Darla sank in her chair before swinging her legs out into the aisle to join her betrothed. I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Quit worrying,” Hephaestus whispered as Mr. Chin conducted his brief ceremony. “You got this.”
“Congratulations!” Mr. Chin said to Dan and Darla. There was a smattering of applause, as there had been with each coupling, and Darla dropped back into her chair as Daniel loped toward his.
“Next up we have . . .” Mr. Chin consulted his tablet. “Charlie and Katrina!”
My heart leaped. They both beamed. Anyone in the room could tell they were smitten. How had I missed this up until now? How had I not seen?
“Dude. Those two are cuter than a pair of YouTube kittens,” Hephaestus said as they walked to the front of the room.
“I don’t know what that means,” I replied, my gaze trained on my latest project. Katrina grinned as she stared at the floor. Charlie rocked from his toes to his heels. He couldn’t have stood still if he tried.
“Charlie Cox, Katrina Ramos, do the two of you swear to honor each other, work together, and hand in your assignments on time this semester?” Mr. Chin asked.
Katrina looked shyly at Charlie. Charlie grinned. “We do,” they said together.
“Great! Then I now pronounce you seventh-period-econ husband and wife! Congratulations!”
I applauded loudly. So loudly that a few people turned to stare, so I shoved my hands under my butt and pressed my lips together. I’d done it. I’d paired up Charlie and Katrina on a project that would force them to spend hours together over the next few weeks. The two of them were going to fall in love. I was sure of it.
Mr. Chin matched up couples until only Hephaestus and I were left. He gave us a beady eye as he strolled toward our side of the room.
“Now to True and Heath,” he said, lifting his chin. “I didn’t seem to have test responses from either of you. What did you do during yesterday’s class period?”
“Were we supposed to fill those out?” Hephaestus said with a huge grin. “Sorry. I’m new here.”
A few kids laughed. Mr. Chin smirked. “Well, congratulations, you two. You’re matched up due to mutual laziness.” He shook his head. “Good luck in life.”
More laughter. Then the bell rang, and we were free.
“Don’t forget your first assignment as married couples!” Mr. Chin called after us. “I expect you to come up with your monthly net income by tomorrow and work out a preliminary budget so we can go over them in class.”
“Do you want to get together after school?” Katrina quietly asked Charlie as they made their way to the door. Her shyness was so adorable, bringing a pleasantly pink hue to her skin.
“I’ve got cross-country. What about after that? Around five?”
“You’re supposed to come to the shop!” Darla protested, catching up with them. She grabbed Charlie’s hand possessively. “Remember?”
“Oh, right. Crap,” Charlie said.
Darla’s lips pinched like she’d tasted something sour.
“What about after dinner? Around seven?” I suggested. “The library’s open late tonight, right, Katrina?”
The three of them looked surprised that I’d interjected, but I didn’t care. This was it. This was going to be my first match. It had to work.
“Yeah. I can do that,” Katrina said. “What do you think?”
We looked at Charlie. Darla’s grip on his fingers tightened until he winced.
“Um, yeah. Okay. Seven at the library,” he said. Darla glowered. Charlie didn’t seem to notice. He was focused on Katrina’s smiling face. “I’ll see you then.”
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Charlie
My hair was still wet from the postpractice shower when I walked up to My Favorite Things that afternoon. It was a small store on the bottom floor of an old house. Most of the mannequins in the window were girls, but the one male was wearing torn jeans and a preppy striped sweater. Darla was somewhere inside there, waiting for me. I looked over my shoulder. I didn’t want to go in. I wanted to go to the library and wait for Katrina. I wanted to call her up and tell her to meet me. Now. But I didn’t have her number, and I’d promised Darla I’d be here.
The door opened. Darla stuck her head out. “What’re you doing? Come in!”
So that was that.
Darla took my hand and pulled me through the store. There was a tall girl with black hair behind the register. “Mira, this is Charlie. Charlie, Mira.”
“Hi!” Mira said as I was yanked past her. “Darla’s told me so much about you!”
“Um, okay!”
I didn’t have much time to respond because I was practically flung into a dressing room. Hanging from a hook were several shirts. Three sweaters were folded on a gold bench. Next to them was a stack of jeans.
“I already picked some stuff out,” Darla told me. “Hope you don’t mind!”
Then she yanked the curtain shut. I glanced at the price tag on the first shirt, which was blue-and-burgundy plaid. It was seventy-five dollars.
“There’s no way I can afford this stuff,” I said.
“But I get a discount!” Darla reminded me. I could see her feet under the curtain. Her perfectly shined black heeled boots. “And you don’t have to buy everything. Just try something on!”
“Okay, okay,” I said with a laugh, trying to sound like I was having fun as I pulled on the first pair of jeans. They fit well.
“How did you know my size?” I asked.
“It’s something I’ve always been able to do,” Darla replied proudly. “Every year at the street fair I do that thing where I guess people’s weight? Last year I earned over five hundred dollars for charity.”
“Wow. Cool,” I said, impressed that she volunteered. “What charity?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Some kids’ charity. Veronica’s parents are on the board or whatever, so we always end up working it,” she replied. “The town does it every year in the spring. You’ll love it.”
I yanked my sweatshirt off over my head and reached for the shirt.
“So how much does it suck that you got matched up with that Katrina girl?” Darla said.
I froze with the shirt halfway on, staring into its crisscrossed fabric. “Why?”
“Well, because we should have been matched up,” Darla replied. “It would have been fun to work together.”
“Oh. Yeah. I guess,” I said.
“And besides, she’s such a burnout,” Darla continued.
My teeth clenched as I yanked the shirt down over my head. “What do you mean?”
“Her and her friends, they all hang out in the arts wing bathroom every morning and smoke. And they’re so . . . anti-everything. Anti-school, anti-sports, anti-having-fun,” she babbled. “No one hangs out with them. They’re, like, total outcasts.”
“Oh,” I said quietly.
I buttoned up the shirt, remembering what True had said that afternoon—that Darla was kind of into appearances or something. Cons
idering where I was standing, what I was doing, and everything I was hearing, I was starting to think that was true.
“What’s up with her boyfriend?” I asked.
“Tyler Donahue? Exactly! What is up with him? He was, like, the star of the wrestling team until he dropped out a couple years ago,” Darla replied. “It’s like Veronica says, losers hang with losers.”
I felt a twist in my heart area. Katrina wasn’t a loser.
“I thought you defended her the other day. At lunch?”
“Oh yeah. I mean, she’s okay, but . . . I just don’t know. I just wish we’d gotten put together, that’s all. Well? Can I see?” Darla asked.
I looked at myself in the mirror. The shirt was stiff, but the jeans were okay. I opened the curtain. Darla rolled her eyes at me.
“You don’t button the shirt,” she said, reaching for me. I froze. She stepped in really close and very slowly undid the buttons over my blue T-shirt. When she got to the bottom one, she stepped even closer, looking into my eyes. “There,” she said, somehow making that one word sexy.
Wow. Tell me how you really feel.
“Now. Look into the mirror.”
I turned, and suddenly I recognized the look she was going for. If it weren’t for my blond hair and blue eyes, I’d be the spitting image of Josh Moskowitz. I think he even had that exact shirt.
“You look amazing,” Darla said, tilting her head into the frame. “See what fashion can do for you? You can wear it to Josh’s party on Friday!”
“I don’t know,” I said, feeling angry out of nowhere. I closed the curtain on her abruptly and yanked down on the shirtsleeve. “I think I should try something else.”
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Katrina
“What’s with you?” Mrs. Pauley asked as I leaned my elbows into the circulation desk that night. “You can’t stop smiling.”
I blushed down at the gleaming wood surface. I’d never felt my heart pound like this. Not even before my first date with Ty, which hadn’t really been a date—more like a group hang. I’d changed my clothes three times before coming here, then felt guiltier than sin when Ty had dropped me off with a kiss and a wave.
