Page 62

Alonso

THE NIGHT BEFORE THE DE LUCAS LEAVE IDLEWOOD FOREVER, ALONSO has a weird dream. To be fair, his dreams have always been weird. Some are about adventures on alien planets. There’s another recurring dream where he keeps looking in the mirror and seeing faces that aren’t his. But lately, his sleep is haunted by reality.

Specifically, he’s haunted by Penny.

The dreams are usually supercuts of moments from this summer, and somehow this is worse than any nightmares his brain could make up. Alonso always wakes up sweating, because they all end with the way Penny looked at him the last time he saw her. Like he was breaking her into pieces.

But tonight’s dream is much worse. In it, Alonso sits in the bleachers at Idlewood Central’s football field. It’s completely empty except for him. The sky is a bright, hazy purple.

Alonso leans forward on his knees and sighs, but there’s no sound. He tries again, clearing his throat, then speaking, then shouting. Every time, his voice is lost in this vacuum. Then his eye catches on something above him, and he looks up.

It’s Anita Emberly. She’s floating upside down, like she’s walking on the clouds, but she’s close, and she’s looking right at him. Her mouth moves in quick, silent words.

“Alonso! Alonso! ”

Sound hits him all at once, and he hears himself screaming. He sits up in bed, his throat raw, tears running down his face.

His mom sits on the edge of his bed, her face lined with worry. She grabs his chin and forces him to look at her. “You were having a bad dream.”

Alonso’s body shakes with sobs. His mom puts her arms around him, and he cries into her shoulder.

“I messed up, Mom,” he keeps saying. “I messed everything up so bad. And now Penny, and Mrs. Emberly… oh god, it’s all fucked up.”

She shushes him. “Breathe with me.”

Alonso tries, closing his eyes and syncing his own breathing with hers. He doesn’t even notice that he isn’t crying anymore until his mom pulls back and gives him a soft smile. It’s the first time she’s smiled at him in weeks, maybe months, and something unwinds in his chest.

“Do you want some tea?” Vera asks.

Alonso isn’t going back to sleep anytime soon, so he follows his mom downstairs and sits at the kitchen island as she boils water. The house is full of boxes, and most of the cabinets are empty, but Vera left out the essentials they would need for breakfast before they leave for Bloomington.

Alonso glances at the clock. “It’s eleven thirty? I thought it was later.”

“You’ve been sleeping early. It’s not like you.”

“I’m tired all the time.”

“From the curse-breaker?”

Alonso nods. Even without his magic, his body has had a hard time recovering from the spell. But it’s also depression. He’s barely been able to get out of bed since his last day of work at the record store a few days ago.

His mom pours hot water over a strainer of tea leaves. “You’ve been having a lot of nightmares.”

“I guess so.” He glances up at her. “You gonna tell me what a shithead I was? Because I already know, so you don’t have to remind me.”

“Actually,” she says, “I was going to say that I admire what you did.”

Alonso’s head snaps in her direction. “Sorry, what?”

“You heard me.”

“But—but I’m the reason we have to leave Idlewood.”

“I can leave this town behind, but not you. Never you.” She ruffles his hair. “You’re a good man, Alonso.”

His mom has never said that. Not once. She’s hated him for the longest time, hated the talks with principals and guidance counselors, hated the way he refused to go to therapy until he started high school.

But she said that Alonso is good . Something he’s wanted to be for a long time. And even though it’s an entirely normal thing for a parent to say, Alonso’s vision goes blurry with tears.

He quickly looks away from her. “Good to know,” he manages to say.

“Get some sleep, okay?” She pauses. “I love you.”

“Love you,” Alonso says, his voice small.

When Alonso is alone, he pours himself another cup of tea and goes into the solarium. All their plants are gone now, and the place looks wrong. But for the first time in his whole life, the windows are clean, and Alonso can see into the backyard.

Nimble sidles up to the window and starts yowling like a baby.

“Stop,” he hisses. “I’m not letting you out.”

She looks straight at him and yowls again. The hair is standing straight up along her spine. Alonso frowns and steps closer to the window, looking outside.

“There’s nothing there,” he says, and then his eye catches on something.

There’s a manila envelope on the back porch.

Alonso pushes the door open. “Hello?” he shouts into the dark.

No answer.

Alonso picks up the envelope gingerly, in case there’s poop inside, or a pipe bomb. That feels like the kind of goodbye present Idlewood would give to their least-favorite family. When it doesn’t explode, he opens it.

The first page is a letter in loopy handwriting:

Dear Alonso,

I found this today. It’s a long story, but I wanted to make sure your family had it before you leave.

I also wanted you to know that I’m trying one last time to save my mom. See page two for details! I know you’re probably freaking out. So am I, but I’ve already made up my mind, and you can’t stop me.

I know I have no right to ask for your help anymore. But if you want to be there, come to the football game on Friday.

Love,

Penny

Alonso reads the letter again, and again, and again. His eyes keep finding her signature.

Love. Penny said love .

Then he looks at page two, and he wants to punch something.

This is bad. Penny is attempting some sort of spell. She’s going to cross the Veil.

“She can’t,” Alonso says. “She doesn’t even have a witch to do this spell. There’s no way.”

“Meow,” Nimble says, standing on her hind legs and reaching for the envelope.

“This is mine,” Alonso says, tilting the envelope and letting the final piece of paper fall into his hand.

But it’s not paper. It’s a soft roll of parchment.

He unrolls it and reads it. Then he reads it again.

This is real. He can feel it in the words, in the signature written in blood.

This is Giovanni’s blood oath.

Just like that, Alonso finds himself in a brand-new after.