Her head snaps back and the force of it knocks her on the floor.
Ivan holds his belly and laughs. Some kids laugh with him. Others
are too embarrassed for Rishi to say anything, so they look away.
“Dick!” Rishi shouts at him. A tiny trickle of blood starts to
flow from her nose.
“Are you okay?” I ask, even though it’s a stupid thing to ask. Of
course she’s not okay. She wipes the blood away with the back of her
hand, but it starts to gush down her face. I unzip my hoodie and press
the fabric to her nose.
Anger flashes through me. I feel a tick in my neck and an itch in
my palms. I turn around to face Ivan. He picks up another ball and
gets in my space. I feel his energy, dark and hateful, brush against
my own. Then, his eyes flash red for a second. I step back. Something
is wrong. The feeling twists in my gut.
“You got a problem?” Ivan asks. “Want to get messed up like your
little girlfriend?” He slams the ball into my shoulder.
“ Stop ,” I shout. My hands are shaking.
“Make me.” He won’t back down.
I take a step toward him, but Rishi stops me.
“Alex,” Rishi says. Angry tears spill from the corners of her
eyes. “Help me up.”
She holds out her hand. It’s covered in blood. Ivan moves to grab
my wrist, but I push him as hard as I can. I feel my head spin at the
sight of Rishi’s blood. I shut my eyes to make the dizziness go away,
but I see the warm, red light of my dream again. The rotten stench of
dead flesh fills the air. Then, I hear the last words my dad ever
spoke to me. “ Sh, my darling. Everything will be okay. ” He lied.
Nothing would ever be okay-not truly.
I close my eyes. Remember to breath. Remember to pull the tide
back. Remember to keep it buried. But there’s something else there,
struggling to break free again. Just like last time. Dread digs into
my chest and won’t let go. I feel a swell in my heart, and when I look
down at my hands, they’re covered in blood. The wind is knocked out of
my lungs. Something breaks inside of me and I can’t hold on anymore.
My magic slips.
My ears pop and adrenaline rushes through my veins. I wait for
something to shatter or move, but instead, Ivan falls on his hands and
knees, choking. The head of a black snake slithers from his mouth,
flicking a bright-red tongue.
Ivan makes a final, terrible gagging noise, and then the whole
snake is out. It slithers across the waxed gym floor between feet that
run for the exits. Piercing screams fill the air as Ivan shivers and
collapses. The snake grows bigger by the second, like it feeds off the
people screaming. When there’s no one left in the gym but the three of
us, the snake darts for Rishi.
“No!” I shout.
The snake freezes, turns its head in my direction. That red tongue
flicks at me. It nods. It knows me. Then, the snake slithers out the
door and into the halls.
“Alex.” Someone calls my name. I turn around but no one is there.
“Who’s there?” I whisper. The temperature in the room drops.
“We need to go!” Rishi holds her bloody hand out for me to take.
But there’s that voice again. I fall backward onto the gym floor.
I can hear the rush of waves, the crackle of static. Rishi tries to
help me stand. I stare at her fingers. Pink nails. Brown henna. But
then she’s gone as Aunt Rosaria appears between us.
“Alex, what’s wrong?” Rishi shouts.
I crawl backward, my insides clenching and twisting painfully.
Recoil . My skin burns from the inside like there’s fire in my veins.
Aunt Rosaria’s open lips are a black hole, but the sound is lost. She
grabs her throat with one hand and points at me with the other, a
long, accusatory finger. I hold up my arms to shield myself from her.
My magic slips defensively. The blast sets off the sprinkler systems.
It shudders the windowpanes. It fills the air with the howling winds
of a storm. Magic flares in my veins, and I panic, pulling it back
like a lifeline that is slipping from my fingers. Aunt Rosaria starts
to fade into the shadows, my name the last word on her cold, dead
lips.
5
The Deos created the brujos and brujas.
Bless our kind, vessels of their Eternal Gifts.
- from the journal of Philomeno de las Rosas
I run all the way home. The last thing I heard before I took off
was Rishi and Lula looking for me in the throng of students. I went
out the side door and bolted down the street. I realize running from
this is like trying to outrun the sun. Sometimes I feel like all I
want to do is run. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if I never
stopped.
When I get to my street, I slow down. Sweat drips from my temples
and down my nose. My muscles burn down to the core. I run into my
house. I press my head against the kitchen door until I stop shaking.
I practice my breaths like Mrs. Castellano, my guidance counselor,
once told me, “If you hold your breath, Alejandra, your panic attacks
will get worse. Breathe and you will see how much easier it is to make
sense of your emotions.”
She was wrong then and she’s wrong now. There is not enough air in
the world to calm me down. So I do the only thing that makes me feel
better-I clean. I attack the dishes with soap and a sponge. I run the
soapy dishes under water. I place them on the drying rack so hard I
break one. I grip the sink and try to rationalize today’s events.
I couldn’t have done that to Ivan. It had to be Aunt Ro’s ghost.
But why would she do that? Why would she point at me? Aunt Rosaria
hasn’t shown herself to any family member since her death. Not even on
the night of the Waking Canto. My mother’s circle blamed me. I broke
the enchantment with my midnight appearance. They would never find the
true reason for my aunt’s death. They’re afraid she’s lost to the
realms beyond the veil. But if she’s lost, why appear to me when I
didn’t even summon her?
The back door slams shut.
“Why didn’t you wait for me?” Lula asks. She drops her backpack
and stares at me. Her face is a mixture of awe and glee.
She knows.
“Too many people,” I say, turning up the water even though it’s
already sloshing over the sink and onto the floor. She lets me wallow
in my guilty silence. “What happened to Ivan?”
She walks across the kitchen and leans against the wall beside me.
Her cool, gray eyes watch as I scrub away the remnants of chicken parm
from two nights ago.
“Oh, he’s fine. Animal control had the snake cornered, and then it
did the most curious thing.”
“What?”
“It vanished into smoke. Poof. ”
I chance a glance at Lula. Her curls are wild and her pouty lips
glisten pink. Then I look at myself in the mirror on the kitchen walclass="underline"
tangled, sweaty hair; bags from sleepless nights under my big, brown
eyes; the sickly green pallor to my tan skin.
Lula lets out an excited squeal and hugs me. She bounces up and
down, then leaves a sticky kiss on my cheek.
“How did you do it?” she asks.
I shake my head. I rinse the plate in my hands. I grab for another
glass to clean. I breathe. And breathe. And breathe. And Lula bounces
around me, doing a bruja dance of joy.
“Do you know what this means?”
“Rose gets to eat all the ambrosia?”
“Smart-ass. This means the three of us finally have our powers!”
If she had peacock feathers, they’d be proudly displayed. “This is
huge! Think of the things we could do. Why aren’t you more excited?”
“Because I made a snake come out of a boy’s throat!”
“You conjured , Ale! I mean, he’ll probably have nightmares for a