Love Fortunes and Other Disasters (28 page)

Sebastian ran his fingers through Hijiri's hair—or tried to. His fingers kept getting stuck in the knots. “This is no good,” he mumbled. “We're just going to have to wash it first.”

“You don't have to do this,” Hijiri said, flustered.

“Don't be nervous,” Sebastian said. “Look at my hair. It's nice, isn't it?”

Hijiri nodded.

“Well, I cut my own hair. So, yours will look nice too.” Sebastian crossed his arms. “This is our thank you. We wanted to do something for you since you helped us with Nico's problem. Though, I shouldn't take the credit here. Fallon's the one who thought of it.”

Fallon smiled and leaned her chin on her hands. She came up with the idea months ago, but only now did she and Sebastian get to follow through. With the new semester starting tomorrow, the timing was perfect. “It's an extended apology on my part too. You didn't want anyone to know about your charm-making skills and I didn't consider your feelings.”

Hijiri huffed. “It's okay. Really. I forgave you a long time ago. The thing is, I've never had to help anyone before. At home, I kept to myself. I didn't have friends to worry about or do favors for. But after being able to give Nico directions for fighting Camille's charm, I felt happy.” She looked at her feet. “I want to be a part of something bigger than me.”

“This is the first step,” Sebastian said, walking over to his bag to take out the scissors and spray bottle.

Hijiri eyed the scissors like a nervous cat.

“I'm not going to cut off all your hair,” he said, laughing. “But you can't dazzle Zita with your charms if you keep pushing your hair out of your face.”

“I like hiding behind my hair.”

“And you can still do that—just in a more convenient style.”

Fallon watched their exchange with amusement. As a budding dog groomer, he had to have dealt with anxious dogs that tried biting his fingers or escaping the harness. Maybe he gentled them by talking to them, just as he did with Hijiri. Too bad dogs needed their hair in winter; she'd have liked to see him at work.

Sebastian took Hijiri over to the sink and asked her for what she usually washed her hair with. When she returned from her bathroom with two bottles, he looked at both and threw the conditioner in the garbage. “Use the shampoo only,” he said, “because conditioner will only clog up your oily hair. Wash twice with the shampoo and try getting in the habit of showering in the morning. Sleeping on wet hair will only make your situation worse.”

He demonstrated this by having her lean over the sink so he could wash her hair himself. It wasn't glamorous, like having one's hair washed at a salon. Hijiri complained of the soapsuds in her eyes.

“I know,” he said, brows furrowed in concentration. “I'll try to be quick.”

Fallon walked over to the sink and watched him rub the shampoo into Hijiri's hair. The suds foamed and swirled down the drain. Sebastian's hands worked tirelessly at loosening the knots and clumps in Hijiri's long hair. The back of Fallon's head tingled. She wondered what it would feel like if Sebastian massaged her scalp. Her skin flushed.

Sebastian caught her eye and smirked. “You want to go next?”

“I don't need a haircut.”

“Okay, princess.”

Fallon shivered and returned to the couch, having seen quite enough.

Sebastian remained true to his word, concentrating his efforts on trimming the split ends. But when he got to the front, he snipped the air and smiled. “I'm going to give you bangs.”

Hijiri stiffened. “Please don't. I've had them before.”

“Trust me. These bangs are going to flatter you.”

He spent a few minutes crafting her bangs, making tiny snips and measuring the length with his fingers. “There,” he said.

Fallon sucked in her breath. “Wow.”

“What?” Hijiri said, trembling. She took the hand mirror from Sebastian and stared at her reflection. By opening up her face, Hijiri couldn't hide her eyes, which were as dark as chipped onyx. Her bangs completely covered her eyebrows, almost touching her eyelashes. Her shiny black hair fell over her shoulders. “This is me?”

“You're so pretty,” Fallon said.

Hijiri pressed the hand mirror to her chest. “Thanks.”

Sebastian rubbed the back of his neck. “There wasn't much to do. You can still hide, if you want to. But people are going to see you once in a while. I hope you're okay with that.”

Hijiri struggled to meet Sebastian's eyes. When she did, she smiled. “I think I am.”

Fallon knew that Sebastian had cushioned the blow to ease Hijiri's worry. With that new hairstyle, she couldn't stay invisible.

“Now that we're done,” Sebastian said, “how about we meet the twins and Nico for dinner? Our last meal before school starts.”

“Don't sound so glum,” Fallon said. “You passed your exams, somehow. You can do it again.”

“Your faith in me is inspiring,” he said dryly.

Hijiri grabbed her bag and almost dragged them out of the apartment. “Let's go. I want to see everyone.”

Fallon and Sebastian exchanged smiles and followed her out.

*   *   *

This time, when the semester began, Fallon felt like she was playacting her role as student. Her uniform was a costume. Her homework, the script she had to follow. She'd circled January 31 on her calendar and the date rushed to meet her.

As the twins predicted, January was a month of heavy snowfall. Fallon and Sebastian walked to school together, holding hands until they reached Grimbaud High. She relished these moments, even though she couldn't feel the pressure of his hand through their thick gloves.

“If we survive this,” he said, “I promise to kiss you in the library.”

“I have to see people making out in the stacks every day. I'm not going to be one of them.”

He stopped and wiped a snowflake off her blazer collar. His eyes were dark, serious. “Then you must have figured out by now what makes that place so appealing.”

She pursed her lips. “Enlighten me.”

“I don't know. I was asking you.” He smirked. “But if we steal just one kiss in the stacks, we'll be official. It's like a charm.”

Her stomach twisted. “We don't need a charm for that.”

Sebastian's smirk turned tender. “All right. I'll think of something better.”

Her heart thumped louder. She squeezed his hand.

In mid-January, preparations for the Welcome Love Fair began. The club tables would take up the entire front lawn of the school. The administration paid for tents, offering covering in case of snowfall during the fair hours. The student government officers were busy during this time; Nico's parents relieved him of his ticket booth duties temporarily so that he could assist in the construction of the fair. Whenever Fallon saw Martin in the hallways, she felt a pinch of anger and loss. He scurried after Camille, letting her harass him in front of everyone. If only he had stayed to hear Nico's confession. She felt that would have changed things.

When she couldn't concentrate on her homework, she stood outside her apartment on the stairs, searching the rooftops for some sign that Grimbaud knew of the rebellion's plans. The town pulsed with strength and grandeur when she walked its streets. Charms worked here. This place was magic. It deserved to be free as much as they all did, destroying Zita's fortunes forever. She closed her eyes and pictured Grimbaud's many cobblestones and caf
é
s, the Tunnel of Love, the belfry, canals, footbridges, and the whitewashed walls of the villas.

“We're going to save you,” she whispered.

The lights in the distance flickered like stars.

*   *   *

A string quartet always played at the Welcome Love Fair. Four of the best students in Grimbaud High's music program tuned their instruments on a tiny stage. The snow went well with the white, pink, and red decorations coloring the lawn. A few of the shops around Grimbaud had donated decorations; wire storks cleaned their feathers between tables, and cupids of all shapes and sizes pointed their arrows at unsuspecting fairgoers.

Grateful that the only mandatory uniform for the event was wearing Love's colors, Fallon had arrived at the fair early in a thick magenta cable-knit sweater over a dress. Black leggings and boots kept her legs warm, along with the exercise that came with preparing the club's table.

“The charm-maker's club,” Martin said, consulting his clipboard. “Your popcorn machine is right over there.”

Fallon tried not to frown at him. “Okay. Thanks.”

Martin opened his mouth, then closed it. “Take care of the machine. It's doesn't work that well.”

“President,” Nico said, running through the snow. His tanned skin was at odds with his windbreaker and earmuffs. He pulled another matching pair of earmuffs out of his pocket and handed it to Martin with a smile. “Your ears are red. I thought you might need them.”

Martin stared at the earmuffs and slowly took them. “Thanks,” he mumbled.

“Treasurer,” Camille yelled, mimicking Nico's previous inflection. “Don't forget that your shift at the officer table starts at seven.”

Nico shrugged. “I'll be there.”

But he wouldn't. No one from the charm-maker's club was sticking around. Fallon found the popcorn machine and pushed. The clunky machine rattled and its wheels got stuck in the snow. She passed other clubs setting up their tables. Part of her wished she could pretend that this was just another fair, that this day was no more important than any other. But the stronger part of her warned her to focus. Her skirt pockets contained the charms from the club: the anti-rose-colored glasses and Hijiri's blinding charm. She had memorized the confidence charm. The fair was not for her. She had a more important goal to achieve than knocking down plastic bowling pins and eating chocolate-drizzled waffles.

Sebastian arrived wearing a wine-red leather jacket and a button-down shirt underneath. He didn't look warm, but Fallon couldn't tear her eyes away from his clothes. “Hey,” he said, snapping his fingers. “You'll grow icicles on your nose if you stand so still.”

“You look…” she started.

“Handsome?”

“Not ugly.”

“Whew. I was worried you had changed your mind about me,” he teased. “I should be wearing a scarf or something, but I'm actually burning up. Must be nerves.”

“You're the one with the connection to Zita,” she said. “That's understandable.”

Hijiri showed up a few minutes later with charm-theory and construction textbooks. They'd serve as props, another reason to steer the fairgoers away from their table. The twins wore black berets with their hair tucked inside, and sweaters with white cupid's wings stitched on the backs. Mirthe reached into her pocket and dangled a rusty key. “Ms. Ward and Bram agreed to meet us at the entrance. We have fifteen minutes before we make our exit.”

“That should be enough time for Anais to get here,” Fallon said. She'd promised to man the table.

More than half of the town's police force was in attendance. They watched the booths with their arms crossed, though a few of the younger officers broke down and ate cotton candy and fried dough when they thought no one was looking. Fallon wasn't nervous. She felt safe knowing that the bachelors and the spinsters were patrolling the fair as well, ready to clear a path for the rebellion when the time came to leave.

Burned popcorn poured out of the machine. A few children held out their hands for popcorn, only to spit it out and complain of the taste. The judo club was across from the charm-making club's table; it gathered a sizable crowd as fairgoers watched the boys demonstrate thirty-five different throws on the plastic mats behind the table. Bear used his hips to propel his opponent forward, knocking him onto the mat with a dramatic smack. The crowded cheered and Bear waved bashfully.

Fallon checked her watch. Then she looked up just in time to see Anais Jacobs push through the crowd. Golden ringlets sprang from her head, her lips glistening with bubblegum-pink gloss. The green dress she wore matched the one she'd worn as a child on Peak & Brown's tins with ruffled sleeves and crystals along the bodice. There were shouts of “Oh, look, the biscuit-tin girl” and “Hurry, take her picture,” but Anais remained stubbornly trained on Bear. His teammates must have seen the determined look on her face because they stepped out of the way.

“Thom Janssens!” she shouted, her face scrunched up in concentration. “How could you abandon me?”

“Is that an apology?” Sebastian whispered.

Fallon shushed him.

Anais dug her fingers into her dress. “There're mosquito bites all over me. I got rained on because you weren't there with an umbrella. Walking home alone sucks because you're not there. Who told you to leave?”

Bear flinched with each accusation.

“I
heard
you. You said you hate Peake and Brown's biscuits because of what happened with your mother, but I'm not that biscuit girl. I'm normal. Worse than normal. I work at a sticky drugstore and man the cashier in sweats.”

He wiped his face with his sleeve. “You lied to me,” he said softly. “That's what it comes down to. I wasn't worth your honesty.”

“I thought I'd lose you if I told you the truth. Being with you made me feel special. I never wanted that feeling to end.”

The crowd went absolutely still. No one breathed, waiting for Bear's answer, but Anais surprised everyone by continuing.

Her cheeks burned underneath her heavy blush. “I-I'm sorry. Please forgive me.”

The hurt and anger fled Bear's face. He gathered her up in his arms and swung her around, pressing kisses to her face.

Fallon grinned so hard her face hurt. She clapped with the other onlookers, bursting with pride for her friend.

“What a distraction,” Mirthe said, coming up behind her.