Page 6

Kiara Mistry is—in a word—gorgeous. In two, devastatingly gorgeous.

What’s left of my frazzled mind promptly scrambles. Because Kiara is wearing that vexingly dimpled smile that could level a city, and she has Devon Lake on her arm. The same boy whose shoulder I tapped in AP Chem last week to borrow a sheet of notepaper and promptly lost my heart to.

Which brings me to the next thing Kiara is: an obstacle.

I grit my teeth, thankful for the same gauzy swathes of fabric I was cursing a minute ago.

Now they shield me from view in the back of the tent while the visitors in front are still brightly spotlighted.

Not only is Kiara the last person I want to see, but the inside of a psychic’s tent is not a place I want to be caught.

But it’s just like Prior’s End to direct its capricious, fickle magic my way, using a generous sprinkling of what the whole town calls occasional magic.

Because I definitely don’t believe in occasional magic. Or sometimes-if-you-squint-sideways-real-hard magic. Or magic at all. Not really. Not anymore. I simply can’t. Because then that would mean—

No, I can’t allow myself to think about that.

Before, things like toadstool fairy rings in the woods enchanted me.

Even my dad’s gentle warning not to mess with nature, to leave things be, that stepping into a circle was considered as unlucky as destroying it.

He knew a man who mowed one down in his front yard who was then plagued by a host of other household pests until he finally moved out.

Spiders coursing across ceilings in black waves, his vegetable patch torn apart with an unexplainable animosity, birds hitting his roof thud-thud-thud in the middle of the night, already dead.

You never had to look far for the warnings in his stories.

Dad kept so many tales like that tucked away in his back pocket, pulling them out to share with me whenever he took me for a walk in his cherished woods.

I was enthralled with the occasional magic then.

Before. How could I not be when he could spin stories with so much wonder and whimsy, cobwebbed with just enough creepiness to appeal to a child’s imagination?

Especially a child raised by him, spoon-fed wonderment until it spilled out of her. Before.

I don’t think I know how to leave things alone anymore.

Everything is tarnished now.

Everything. Including me.

“I told you that you didn’t have to come in with me,” Kiara mutters, half frowning at her companion.

Devon frowns, too. “Why shouldn’t I? I don’t have any secrets from you .”

Kiara blinks. Her brown eyes are soft and honeyed in the glow of the tent. Hypnotic. “It’s only our first date. You should. That’s…weird.”

“That’s commitment. You’ll see, babe. I’m the guy in your future.”

Ha! Good luck with all that unfounded confidence, dude. You’re not the guy for her. I just barely hold back a snort. Which is to say, I absolutely snort then smother it with fake cough.

Kiara cocks her head, long brown hair spilling over a shoulder. For one horrible moment, it’s almost as if she has X-ray vision and knows exactly who is hidden behind all this gaudy frippery.

Every single muscle in my body tenses. My heart slingshots into my throat. Panic sweat gathers under my breasts as though my temperature just went up a few degrees. I cast a furtive look around.

Please, please, please don’t recognize me. Not here of all places.

Kiara tucks one of her face-framing apricot locks behind her ear. Her earrings glimmer as they catch the light. “I’d like to know what’s in my future,” she says.

Devon chuckles and puts his arm around her shoulder, looking preemptively proud of himself.

I roll my eyes. Puh-leese. You wish it was you.

Kiara shrugs him off with an impatient sound, wringing her hands like there’s a real question she wants the answer to but doesn’t want to ask in front of him.

Like always, Prior’s End does its thing, screwing up my plans and putting me at the mercy of a girl who’s used to doing the exact same thing. Just like she’s doing right here and now with yet another person who I liked first. And just like the others, Crush #5 is totally oblivious to the fact.

It’s the Kiara Effect. It’s how she is. Not even on purpose. No sooner do I start to crush on someone than they fall for her first. She just has to look at someone for them to fall head over heels for her.

Literally. One smile from her lips sent a boy tripping last year—several girlfriends later, he still hasn’t lived it down.

And his eyes still trail after Kiara whenever she enters or exits a classroom, which I would find completely pathetic, if it weren’t for the fact that I’m kinda maybe sorta guilty of the same thing.

Love her or hate her, it’s impossible not to be one of Kiara’s conquests.

Hating her would be the easy option. Oh, I pretend, of course. Pretend to hate that hopeful, heart-stopping smile. The way Kiara fills the room like she’s the only person in it.

How nothing negative ever seems to touch her, not even autumn’s sharp teeth.

She never dresses for the weather, as though something as mundane as garden-variety cold wouldn’t dare .

Those enviably long bare legs that strut down our high school hallways like she owns them are now neatly tucked into ankle boots.

“Of course,” I announce, striving to maintain Aurora’s lower, breathier voice.

It comes out more sexy than mysterious, but I valiantly keep going, inching toward the back flap and a quick getaway.

“Why don’t you sit down at the table and think good thoughts while I…

stay here…to better get in touch with…um…

the future…which will only work if you’re there and I’m here, okay? ”

“Are you sure she’s legit?” Devon whispers, moving his chair closer to Kiara’s. “She sounds kinda spacey. Or drunk. And she didn’t even take our tickets.”

I bristle but keep my eyes on the prize. A few more feet, and I’m outta here with no one any the wiser. Devon is superfluous and so far in my rearview he’s a pinprick. Or maybe just a prick.

I’m already over him.

“ Shhh! ” Kiara hisses. “Don’t be rude. Madame Aurora is getting in the zone. She’s so talented, it’s no wonder she’s a little eccentric. I promise you, she’s the real deal. There’s something I need her to tell me, and you are not getting us kicked out.”

I actually freeze midstep. Kiara is adamant—surprisingly fierce—voice teetering right into threatening territory. Huh. That’s…new. She’s never sounded so unlike herself. All this time, hidden steel under that sweetness and sunshine. I find myself leaning forward, drawn in like a moth.

With a grumpy hmph , Devon crosses his arms. My tense shoulders relax a fraction, but they immediately hike back up again. Kiara believes in the paranormal about as much as everyone else in Prior’s End, but her insistence on knowing this mysterious something?

Reluctant intrigue makes me falter when I reach the flap. Ducking out right now would be so easy. I could do it in a heartbeat. But then I wouldn’t discover what Kiara wants to know so badly.

And for some reason, that makes me want to know it, too.

Maybe because I didn’t get what I wanted in coming here: the petty victory of embarrassing Aurora and making her back off Mom.

Maybe because I’m tired of losing to Kiara and pathetically need to know something important to her that she wouldn’t want me to know.

My breath comes out in short, controlled bursts. I’m unable to leave it alone.

I dig deep, all the way down to the pit in my stomach that’s writhing with snakes, and summon a deep breath, fortifying myself for what I’m going to do next.

“I will happily give you what you deserve,” I announce. Something electric goes through me, something I’ve only felt once before. Confidence strums my body, the next words already perched on my tongue. My mouth isn’t dry anymore. “Place both hands on the crystal ball and close your eyes.”

This instruction is immediately obeyed. Part of me wants to see how long the silence will stretch, how long it’ll take for Kiara to grow impatient. But it’s me who’s impatient now.

“Do you see anything?” I prompt, watching Kiara’s fingertips clench.

Kiara shakes her head. “Um, my eyes are closed. Shouldn’t you be the one touching it?”

“She probably means your inner eye,” Devon says with a snort.

“You are my conduit,” I bluff without batting an eye. That sounds vaguely plausible. It’s not like I’ve ever touched one of those things before. “I’m channeling your energies.”

“Babe, I’ll catch you outside. This is bullshi—” Devon darts a look at the curtains, a solid five feet from where I’m standing, and seems to think twice about the adjective he was about to use.

Kiara doesn’t even wait until he’s gone before she mutters, “Sorry about him.”

I shrug before remembering that Kiara can’t see me. “Do you have a specific question?”

Again, Kiara looks like she’s on the verge of saying something, but then she shakes her head rapidly.

“No, I…There’s something I want to happen.

Something that should have happened long before now.

But it hasn’t, even once when I thought she might—” She cuts herself off with another shake of her head. “Anyway,” she says.

My pulse jumps. She? But Kiara’s not giving anything else away.

“Do you see anything now?” I ask.

She squints. “The crystal ball is still clear. No smoke or anything. Shouldn’t it get, I don’t know, cloudy and magic-looking?”

“By psychics who pawn off cheap tricks, maybe,” I say with a snort.

Kiara laughs. “Right. Sorry. It’s just that this is pretty important to me.”

“Right,” I echo. “This mysterious question you’re withholding.”

“For someone who’s the real deal, it shouldn’t be a problem, right?”

Cheeky. I narrow my eyes. “Never said it was. But if I don’t have specifics, I can’t control what I see. Be warned, you might encounter a fate you don’t like.”

Kiara’s mouth settles into a determined line, almost a silent Do your worst .

And oh, I will. I don’t need to know whatever secret my romantic rival is hugging close to her heart.

I can simply give a phony prediction, and with one stone, I can annoy two birds.

Foresee Kiara’s worst nightmare, tarnish Madame Aurora’s reputation…

My original plan didn’t work out, but tonight can still work to my advantage.

Instead of receiving a prediction from Aurora, I’ll give one to Kiara.

“What you seek is right in front of you.” My chest quakes with the effort to keep from laughing at the poetry of my plan. Who knew being cryptic could be so much fun?

Kiara bites her lip. “But I don’t—”

My melodramatic gasp cuts her off. “Then it is as I feared.”

“Um, what do you—”

“I must have silence! It’s coming to me!

” I inject a warble into my already theatrical performance, trying not to laugh as I work my way up to the climax.

“Oh no…it is much, much worse.” I draw the moment out, counting Mississippis until Kiara finally blinks.

“ In your future, I see ” — It’s petty, it’s probably inadvisable, and it’s definitely going to prick at my conscience later — “ many, many days of bad luck ahead, Kiara Mistry. Your good fortune has come to an end. ”

Kiara recoils so hard that her chair scrapes. Her lip-glossed mouth drops into ugly, furious disbelief. It’s clear that out of everything she expected to hear, a prophecy of her downfall didn’t make the cut.

I carry on, the intonation coming easier now.

“The closer you get to what you want, the worse off you will be. You, who have only known fate’s favor all these years, will finally know what it is to suffer.

However, you can still turn from this path.

If you have the will and fortitude to give up your heart’s desire. ”

Kiara jerks her head in a horrified No, no, no .

“Are you sure? Even if it spells your own disaster? Your doom?” I prod.

Getting into the theatrics of my performance now, I pronounce, “Here is what you have to look forward to, then. All the good fortune you’ve hoarded these many years is turning to ash.

Bad luck will plague your footsteps. Anything you think is a sure thing will slip out of your fingers like mist. The very ground you tread will turn treacherous.

You will suffer this reversal of fortune until you summon the strength to sacrifice what you want most. We’re talking a lot of suffering, by the way. ”

“This can’t be right.” Kiara stares. “I haven’t done anything to deserve this. You have to help me! Please. This isn’t what I wanted.”

“The future doesn’t lie,” I say tartly. “It is pitiless and uncaring of mortal affairs.”

“Wait, but that’s only one interpretation, right? The future is malleable. It can change.”

“Perhaps,” I chirp, watching Kiara’s face brighten with hope. “But at this point, not very likely.”

Kiara’s shoulders slump. “There has to be something I can—”

“Nope. Nothing. Never before have I perceived such ill tidings.”

“But—you—can’t just—” Kiara starts to sputter.

“I told you that you might not like your future,” I remind her. Strange, pulling this off didn’t make me feel the way I thought I would. My heart pinches with—

No, it’s not sympathy. It’s not pesky, inconvenient guilt pricking at my conscience.

She got a bad fortune, so what? Kiara can deal with one night of shitty news, of worry that wrecks her beauty sleep, of something not going her way.

And tomorrow everything will go back to normal for both of us, her to her perfectly charmed life and me to… well. The point being, no harm done.

“I want you to do my reading again,” Kiara demands. “You said something about sacrifice?”

“Can’t fight fate!” I dive for the tent flap. “Good luck with the impending doom! Don’t forget to leave a review!”