“Forty–fifteen to Mr. Fagan over here.” Sam brushes his hair out of his eyes with a shake of his head. Martin high-fives him as he takes his turn at the net. A couple of the more popular girls watching them cheer. I frown at them without really meaning to.
Bea’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “So, random question,” she says. “What do you think of Carl?”
“Carl Gallagher?”
“Yeah. What do you think of him?”
“Honestly?”
“Honestly.”
“He’s kind of pretentious and has shit taste in music.”
Bea laughs out loud. One of the girls waiting for her turn at the net turns around with a frown, but Bea stretches her mouth out into a demon snarl and she quickly looks away. “I suppose you’re right,” Bea says. “Still, at least he’s interesting.”
I mutter that I don’t think he’s all that interestingactually, and Bea laughs again. “Since when did you get so honest, Cara?” she says, which I don’t think is fair because I’m nothing if not honest. It’s just that sometimes I prefer to keep my honesty to myself. I tell Bea as much and she laughs even louder and bumps her hip against mine.
“I know that,” she says, more seriously. “I’m sorry.”
“Why?” I ask her. “What do
you
think of Carl?”
Bea screws up her mouth, as if she’s thinking hard. “Same as you, mostly,” she says. “But I think every witch needs someone to kiss on Halloween.”
I raise my eyebrows. “You kiss a lot of people.”
“I do. Kissing’s important.”
I don’t disagree on that particular point, but I can’t stop there. “You kissed me.”
Bea smiles. “That was just part of the story.”
“Part of what story?”
Bea waves an arm vaguely. “Part of the story of the ghost house,” she says. “It needed a kiss to wake it up, to ready it for the party.”
I know Bea well enough to understand that this isn’t the reason she kissed me at all, but I decide to let the subject drop. “Well, it’s certainly awake now,” I say. Bea grins and winks suggestively, but behind it all she looks a little relieved.
“So you think Carl will find the witch’s kiss there?” I ask her, with another bump of a hip.
We’ve told everyone about the party’s change of venue,and the fact that it will be held in an abandoned house has made everyone even more excited than before. We’ve also been very careful not to talk about the party around my mother, who thinks we’re just spending a quiet Halloween night at Bea’s house watching horror films and handing out candy to trick-or-treaters.
Bea grins and shakes her head. “Not a chance. But I’ll probably kiss him anyway.”
We both giggle a bit as the rest of the class takes turns serving.
“So who are
you
going to kiss at the ball, then?” Bea wants to know. Across the gym hall, Sam is splashing his face with water from a plastic bottle. The ends of his hair drip onto the collar of his T-shirt.
I turn away from him and punch Bea’s arm lightly. “No one,” I say. “Your kiss has ruined me forever.”
Bea ruffles my hair. “Nonsense,” she says.
But I am hardly listening. By the tennis net, Sarah Keogh, who has long brown hair and perfect eyebrows, has come up to Sam, who is talking to Martin. It would appear that Martin’s popularity is rubbing off. When Sarah smiles, her teeth are very straight. I force myself to look away and think of something else. I think about Toby Healy winking at me when we broke into the office yesterday. He has pretty lips, and his eyelashes are long like a girl’s. I say this to Bea.
“Another sad-eyed guitarist,” she says.
“He plays the guitar? Be still my heart.”
We both laugh. “He does seem interested in you all of a sudden, though,” she says. “I think there’s potential there.”
“All of a sudden? Excuse me,” I reply haughtily. “How do you know he hasn’t been secretly in love with me since first year and was just waiting for an excuse to let me know?” Then I
Bea’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “So, random question,” she says. “What do you think of Carl?”
“Carl Gallagher?”
“Yeah. What do you think of him?”
“Honestly?”
“Honestly.”
“He’s kind of pretentious and has shit taste in music.”
Bea laughs out loud. One of the girls waiting for her turn at the net turns around with a frown, but Bea stretches her mouth out into a demon snarl and she quickly looks away. “I suppose you’re right,” Bea says. “Still, at least he’s interesting.”
I mutter that I don’t think he’s all that interestingactually, and Bea laughs again. “Since when did you get so honest, Cara?” she says, which I don’t think is fair because I’m nothing if not honest. It’s just that sometimes I prefer to keep my honesty to myself. I tell Bea as much and she laughs even louder and bumps her hip against mine.
“I know that,” she says, more seriously. “I’m sorry.”
“Why?” I ask her. “What do
you
think of Carl?”
Bea screws up her mouth, as if she’s thinking hard. “Same as you, mostly,” she says. “But I think every witch needs someone to kiss on Halloween.”
I raise my eyebrows. “You kiss a lot of people.”
“I do. Kissing’s important.”
I don’t disagree on that particular point, but I can’t stop there. “You kissed me.”
Bea smiles. “That was just part of the story.”
“Part of what story?”
Bea waves an arm vaguely. “Part of the story of the ghost house,” she says. “It needed a kiss to wake it up, to ready it for the party.”
I know Bea well enough to understand that this isn’t the reason she kissed me at all, but I decide to let the subject drop. “Well, it’s certainly awake now,” I say. Bea grins and winks suggestively, but behind it all she looks a little relieved.
“So you think Carl will find the witch’s kiss there?” I ask her, with another bump of a hip.
We’ve told everyone about the party’s change of venue,and the fact that it will be held in an abandoned house has made everyone even more excited than before. We’ve also been very careful not to talk about the party around my mother, who thinks we’re just spending a quiet Halloween night at Bea’s house watching horror films and handing out candy to trick-or-treaters.
Bea grins and shakes her head. “Not a chance. But I’ll probably kiss him anyway.”
We both giggle a bit as the rest of the class takes turns serving.
“So who are
you
going to kiss at the ball, then?” Bea wants to know. Across the gym hall, Sam is splashing his face with water from a plastic bottle. The ends of his hair drip onto the collar of his T-shirt.
I turn away from him and punch Bea’s arm lightly. “No one,” I say. “Your kiss has ruined me forever.”
Bea ruffles my hair. “Nonsense,” she says.
But I am hardly listening. By the tennis net, Sarah Keogh, who has long brown hair and perfect eyebrows, has come up to Sam, who is talking to Martin. It would appear that Martin’s popularity is rubbing off. When Sarah smiles, her teeth are very straight. I force myself to look away and think of something else. I think about Toby Healy winking at me when we broke into the office yesterday. He has pretty lips, and his eyelashes are long like a girl’s. I say this to Bea.
“Another sad-eyed guitarist,” she says.
“He plays the guitar? Be still my heart.”
We both laugh. “He does seem interested in you all of a sudden, though,” she says. “I think there’s potential there.”
“All of a sudden? Excuse me,” I reply haughtily. “How do you know he hasn’t been secretly in love with me since first year and was just waiting for an excuse to let me know?” Then I
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