Love Charms and Other Catastrophes Read online

  Hijiri tried not to look at their hands, but she couldn’t ignore the simple comfort that came from the contact. “Well, you need to know what you’re getting into by joining our club.”

  The apartment lights started going out around them.

  Ken was the first to notice the time. “Better get some sleep,” he said, helping her up. “Are we walking to school together again tomorrow?”

  “I suppose so,” she said coolly. Hijiri didn’t want him to think she was looking forward to it in the same way a new girlfriend couldn’t wait to see the boy she was dating. Just because I shared these things with him doesn’t mean we’re anywhere close to dating. Walking with him in the mornings is a good excuse to study him more. Figure out how he works. It’s nothing more than that.

  “Good night, then, Hijiri,” Ken said, smiling so his eyes crinkled. “Pleasant dreams.”

  Hijiri ran down the stairs to her apartment. Leaning against the door, she took Fallon’s advice and paid attention to her heart. It was warm and trembling. Remembering how intently he had listened to her, even when her voice went hoarse, made her heart melt into a sticky puddle in her chest. She didn’t understand what it meant, but it made her nervous.

  Chapter 5

  THE QUESTIONABLE DATING GAME

  Hijiri’s anxiety about the upcoming competition took on a life of its own as the first week of school passed. When she wasn’t charm-making, the hours she spent at school dragged. Nothing a teacher taught or a friend said distracted her for long. When Saturday arrived, she breathed a sigh of relief before her stomach immediately twisted into new and tighter knots.

  “Finally,” she almost sobbed, ducking her head under the sheets. “It’s finally today.”

  August had quietly given up its crown to September, which meant that cooler weather was on the way. Hijiri searched her limited closet with that in mind. Unlike Fallon, who had strong opinions about things like polyester and thread count, Hijiri never gave much thought to her clothing. She shopped for clothes only when her old ones had gotten stained from her crafting; searching through racks of sweaters and jeans was more of a chore than a fun activity.

  Her mother had picked out some tasteful outfits for her, though. The ones she only wore for special occasions. Hijiri decided on one of those: a soft plum blazer over a black elastic-waist dress. She dusted off her black leather sandals just as Fallon arrived early to braid her hair.

  “You should leave it long,” Fallon said, standing behind Hijiri at the kitchen table. “Let’s just put a tiny braid on the left side, and keep it in place with a gold clip.”

  Hijiri stayed as still as she could while eating her breakfast. The oatmeal was too thick and too sweet.

  After brushing her teeth and wiping her sweaty hands on her dress, Hijiri was ready to walk over to Verbeke Square for the opening ceremony. Without pockets, she kept a few charms in a messenger bag.

  “Sebastian and Ken are supposed to be waiting for us at the gate,” Fallon said as they left the apartment. “So try not to look so nervous. You’ll worry them.”

  Hijiri nodded stiffly.

  Sebastian leaned on the wooden gate, yawning.

  “Sorry I’m late,” Ken yelled from the staircase. He didn’t seem to notice Hijiri and Fallon as he flew down the stairs and ran for the gate.

  The two boys shook hands, linking fingers and making a whooshing sound when they pulled back.

  “A secret handshake?” Fallon said loudly. She raised her eyebrows and nudged Hijiri. “Should we feel left out?”

  “We came up with the handshake yesterday in gym class,” Ken explained as they started walking. “After too many fouls on the basketball court, our teacher made us sit out.”

  “Ken kept traveling instead of bouncing the ball,” Sebastian said. “I tried covering for him, but I ended up making a few mistakes of my own. Mrs. Flits misses nothing.”

  Hijiri knew Sebastian’s old reputation as a heartbreaker and that it hadn’t made him popular with other boys. Having a close guy friend would be good for Sebastian. The secret handshake had been quite charming.…

  No, no, no, what are you thinking? Hijiri thought, shaking her head. This is so bad for Sebastian! He’ll get hurt if Ken vanishes.

  But no matter how temporary Ken might be for all of them, she didn’t have the heart to wrench Ken away from her friends. So she tried to see this development in a different light. One that made her less likely to ruin her blazer with anxious sweat. He’s not trying to win the love of anyone else in town, she reminded herself. So seeing how he acts with other people might give me clues to solving him. Charm-boy, I’m onto you.

  Her thoughts turned and turned in circles, distracting her right up until they entered Verbeke Square. The square had been decorated and scrubbed up for the occasion. Lace shops opened their windows so that their workmanship was on display, flickering in the wind. Vendors were hard at work cooking; inspired by the competition, they sold foamy pink drinks and frosted heart-shaped desserts. The square was usually crowded because tourists and locals alike loved the old buildings crammed together with their gingerbread roofs, and the shops and cafés were always welcoming. People used to come far and wide to receive their love fortunes from Zita here, but her shop had collapsed into a pile of rubble after Love ended her reign.

  A stage had been built where Zita’s shop used to be. Hijiri thought it was an ominous spot to hold a love charms competition.

  She knew just from looking at the stage that this opening ceremony would have surprises. The stage was divided in half by a partition: a single chair on the left side of the partition and three chairs on the right side. A table in front of the stage held four empty jars, each one made of a different colored glass, and a bowl full of red marbles.

  Since Hijiri was the only love charm-maker in the club, she had to go onstage alone. However, her friends were right in front, ready to cheer her on. Ken waved at her as she took her place next to the other love charm-makers. She gave him a weak, unsteady smile.

  Her heart pounded when the crowd started clapping. Bram De Groote climbed onto the stage, wearing his infamous tan trench coat and fedora. Ever since he revealed his identity as Hard-Boiled Hal, the host of Grimbaud’s anti-love radio show, he’d been more or less pressured into emceeing the town’s events.

  “How backward is it that I’m here, about to introduce you to a bunch of love charm-makers?” he asked, his voice booming across the square thanks to his microphone. “Love gives me heartburn. I’d rather be anywhere else.”

  The crowd burst into laughter. More clapping. Some men raised their glasses and drank deeply.

  Hijiri grimaced only because it was a close cousin to a proper smile. She knew Bram wasn’t trying to be funny. He was still jaded when it came to love.

  “As much as I hate to admit it, there’s no denying that this town has a history of remarkable love charm-makers and their creations. This kind of history shouldn’t change. Grimbaud must keep creating. Now that we’re moving into a new era, friendly competition is a healthy start.” He was careful not to mention Zita. “Let’s see what these charm-makers are made of.”

  Hijiri felt the muscles in her shoulder tighten. Bram reminded her yet again why she was risking public humiliation and extreme discomfort onstage. Despite the nerves, she wanted to be here and make her own mark on Grimbaud. A good one.

  “Our competitors have three months to work on their greatest love charms. Not a bad amount of time, but not generous either. That’s just the way of competitions,” Bram said unsympathetically. “The love charms will be presented for voting on November thirtieth. And guess what? The judges are you, Grimbaudians! You will decide by voting for the charm you love the most!”

  So that’s the way this is going to go, Hijiri thought. Grimbaud had no interest in picking so-called “experts” to judge the contest. This is more about the town itself picking its next Zita: the love charm-maker they love, respect, and welcome here.

  “Cheating
is strictly prohibited, children,” Bram said, wagging his finger at the charm-makers. “I wish I didn’t have to say it, but the temptation could be too strong for some of you. Using charms to distract, disorient, or hamper your opponents is grounds for an instant disqualification. Maybe even legal action, depending upon the charm. Same goes for sabotage. Please concentrate on crafting your own charms, not destroying someone else’s. Here with us today is Grimbaud’s new charm-crime specialist, Detective Desiree Archambault. She’s going to make sure you play fair.”

  Detective Archambault looked less than pleased to be singled out in the crowd, but she raised her hand anyway. The detective didn’t need to wear a trench coat like Bram to look as if she stepped off the pages of a noir novel; her high cheekbones and grim, tight mouth spoke volumes. Hijiri wouldn’t dream of crossing her. She looked over at her friends to see Fallon watching the detective with admiration.

  “The winner will receive a shiny certificate and a sizable trophy,” Bram said, smirking, “but most important, bragging rights.”

  And business, Hijiri thought, looking at the charm-makers beside her. Winning a competition like this would earn them respect and even a little faith. One baby step away from Zita’s legacy.

  “Here’s how it’s going to go. I will be introducing you to our fine love experts. Keep your attention on this stage. You won’t want to miss what we have in store for you today. Let’s talk to the ladies behind Metamorphosis first!”

  Clea grabbed the microphone from Bram. “I thought we’d never get to talk,” she said, batting her unnaturally long eyelashes at him. Her pixie cut was extra spiky and her dark skin glowed with shimmering charms.

  Bram’s jaw worked. He didn’t look away from her face. He didn’t blink, and it looked like it hurt.

  Hijiri dug her nails into her palms and took deep breaths. She kept her gaze from Clea’s face and instead tentatively glanced at the co-owner, Mandy. Mandy’s skin was equally stunning, her freckled cheeks the color of ripe peaches. Hijiri waited for the force of the Metamorphosis charms to hit her, but Mandy’s products were more subdued. She was short and round and had a motherly vibe about her.

  “You people look like you can use some of our bronzers,” Clea said, strolling to the edge of the stage. “Just because it’s the end of summer doesn’t mean you need to sacrifice your tans and the compliments that come with them. Just stop by the store and—”

  “Anyway. We believe that beauty makes you a stronger you,” Mandy said, cutting Clea off, “and that kind of confidence welcomes love.”

  “Like us,” Clea said, raising Mandy’s left hand. Then she wiggled her fingers on her own hand. Both women wore matching engagement rings: the diamonds reflected the sunlight as beautifully as their charmed makeup did.

  Clea and Mandy shared a quick kiss onstage while the crowd cheered. Bram rolled his eyes, and a few people chuckled. Hijiri took Bram’s recovery as a good sign, but nothing, not even a seemingly sweet fiancée, would stop Clea from hawking her shop’s products and bringing the townspeople’s desires for beauty and love to the surface. Hijiri kept her eyes averted as Clea passed by. Her skin broke out in goose bumps.

  “We’ve got plenty of time to swap romantic stories later,” Bram said. “For now, let’s say hello to Heartwrench!”

  Ryker and his uncle Gage kept their mechanic uniforms but dressed up by wearing clean overalls and shiny, pressed shirts underneath. Neither man wore a hat this time. They both looked hopeful after seeing the turnout.

  “Heartwrench is a truly innovative love charms shop,” Gage said with enthusiasm. “We combine technology and charm magic. We push the boundaries of the two mediums in all our efforts.” When the crowd didn’t return his fierce grins and used-car-salesman pitch, he sweated so heavily that his armpits and the back of his shirt darkened. “Our shop hasn’t gotten too many visitors,” he admitted. “You do know we’re open, right?”

  Hijiri cringed when she heard the laughter in the crowd. There’s no way I’ll be as awkward as Gage, she thought. It wasn’t reassuring. The knots in her stomach didn’t budge.

  Ryker stole the microphone from his uncle. “Our shop has a lot to offer,” he said smoothly. “Just you watch.”

  Bram moved on to the last new love charm-maker, the owner of Love For All. Sanders Lemmens took the microphone, nonchalance oozing from his slouched posture and cool gaze. His brown-and-orange plaid suit hung on his frame.

  “Love For All doesn’t need an introduction,” Sanders said.

  “What tricks do you have up your sleeve?” Bram said, trying to pry a response from the man. “Many of us are familiar with your shop’s products. Do you think you’ll do better than what you sell?”

  Sanders turned purple. “My products are the finest love charms.”

  No one cheered, but a few people had the decency to clap. One boy in the back said he wanted his money back for the charm he bought yesterday.

  “No refunds,” Sanders snapped. “Read the signs.”

  Bram snorted.

  Sanders drew himself up to his full height. “The confections my shop offers rival Grimbaud’s best sweet shops. Even better, my chocolate is charmed.”

  Hijiri was surprised by the sudden eruption of cheers from the children in the audience. Fallon’s and Martin’s expressions darkened with fury. The local pastry chefs in the audience weren’t happy either, but the children were louder. Hijiri felt her own anger rise. She had to defeat this man.

  “Let’s not forget about the home team,” Bram said. When he reached Hijiri’s side, he spared her a smile. Just for her. Then he turned back to the crowd and said, “She wasn’t born in Grimbaud, but she might as well have been. Let’s give a big hand for someone who loves this town as much as we do: Hijiri Kitamura, sophomore at Grimbaud High!”

  Unsure of what to do, Hijiri bowed. Her heart tried to crawl up her throat. Everyone was looking at her now. Everyone.

  “You’re an aspiring love charm-maker, but you’re not alone in this competition. Am I right?” Bram asked.

  Hijiri dragged her eyes up to the microphone and stared at it. She swallowed thickly.

  Bram inched the microphone closer to her.

  She jumped back as if it were a coiled snake.

  “You’re not alone,” Bram said again, softer this time. “Am I right?”

  Hijiri took a shaky breath. She may have been standing onstage by herself, but her friends were as close as they could get to the stage. They were there. She wasn’t alone. She pulled herself together long enough to finally speak. “I couldn’t have gotten here on my own. I have the entire charm theory club behind me.”

  “Round of applause for the charm theory club,” Bram said.

  The twins ate up the applause. While the others waved, Ken paid no attention. His focus was on her.

  Hijiri lifted an eyebrow and motioned for him to join in. Charm-boy or not, she didn’t want him to be an outsider at a time like this.

  He pointed at himself, bemused, and turned around to smile at the crowd.

  “Now then,” Bram said, rubbing his palms together. “We can’t go easy on our love charm-makers, can we? Just to keep things interesting, we’ll have monthly check-ins and challenges so we can see them in action. How about we throw a challenge at them now?”

  Hijiri gasped. Her knees buckled. Her nerves shot ice-cold panic through her veins as the crowd cheered and stomped.

  Bram pulled a young woman up from the audience. “This is Sofie, an art teacher from Grimbaud Elementary. Sofie here wants to fall in love,” he said, rolling his eyes as Sofie made her way to the lone chair on the left of the partition. “In a town like this, she shouldn’t have a problem. We have many eligible men.”

  With a sweep of his hand, three young men stepped onto the stage and took their seats in the chairs to the right of the partition. Sofie couldn’t see the men because of the partition; she fidgeted with her patchwork dress as each man was given a number from left to right.

  �
��These three men know nothing about Sofie, but they trust us when we say that she could be the perfect girl—for one of them. Which man? Our love charm-makers must help Sofie do the choosing,” Bram said. “But not with their charms.”

  Hijiri thought she heard him wrong. Wasn’t this a love charm-making competition? Why wouldn’t they be tested by making charms?

  Bram held up an index finger. “Each love charm-maker gets one question. Sofie will ask her eligible suitors these questions to find out which of them she’d like to go on a date with. So they better be good questions. Think hard.” Bram paused and caught Hijiri’s eye. “And use your teammates.”

  Hijiri felt a pinch of relief. She was still part of a team, even if she was the only love charm-maker in the club. Working with her friends was completely within the rules. They had entered as a club, after all.

  After Bram handed each of the charm-makers a card to write their questions on, Hijiri left the stage to join the Grimbaud High’s charm theory club already in a huddle. Ken and Nico broke apart to let her in.

  Bram looked at his watch. “You have five minutes.”

  Hijiri felt the seconds start to crawl across her skin. Away.

  “This shouldn’t be hard,” Mirthe insisted. “Just have her ask what their favorite colors are. Or favorite animals!”

  “Not important enough,” Sebastian said. “We’re not playing a trivia game.”

  “It’s harder than it seems,” Femke said.

  Fallon agreed. “Sofie only has their answers to work with. What matters most to her? What does she need to know about them?”

  Luckily for Sofie, she had four questions to ask. Hijiri wanted to have the strongest one. She looked at the men sitting in their chairs. Guy #1 was stout, with a shaved head and gold-rimmed glasses. The chair bent under his weight. Guy #2 rested his fist on his chin, one leg crossed and bobbing at the ankle. Unlike the other two, Guy #3’s ginger beard hid his mouth, but that didn’t stop him from talking to the crowd. Detective Archambault climbed onto the stage, her hand on Guy #3’s shoulder. He quieted immediately.