Chapter Thirty-Four
The pre-Halloween bonfires the student council hosted were perfect. Despite the curse interfering with meetings, and despite it wreaking havoc on Lily’s time and mind, they were everything she had intended them to be.
Four blazing fires lined Southcove Beach, one for each class, sending fragrant smoke into the velvety blue night. Strings of golden lights encircled the booths where representatives from each year were selling hot dogs, hot cocoa, s’mores kits, and more as a fundraiser. (Each class was in competition to see who could make the most money.) A long table glowed a fiery orange, decorated with dozens of entries in the annual jack-o’-lantern carving contest, and the path from the parking lot down to the rocky sand was lined with lamps, flooding the beach in a warm glow that defied the October chill.
It was beautiful. If Lily closed her eyes, the scent of burning wood and the ocean’s steady, ceaseless breaths soothed her completely. That was, when she could hear the ocean over people shouting and laughing.
The bonfires were held each year on the Friday before Halloween. Lily had been excited to put her own personal touch on the event this year, as student council president. She’d done a simple glamour spell on each of the fires, giving the freshmen’s a touch of green, the sophomores’ a hint of blue, the juniors’ a blush of pink, and the seniors’ a purple hue. Four spells at once, even easy ones, was more than she was used to casting, but her and Chrysanthemum’s triumph over the curse had convinced her to push herself harder. She could do more than she believed.
Except hold on to Chrysanthemum.
Or make valedictorian.
Or not ruin everything.
That was why this evening—with this event that she’d been looking forward to for so long and was so proud of putting together—was not actually making her happy. In fact, she was pretty unhappy.
Lily wasn’t so na?ve as to think she’d get over Chrysanthemum immediately or force her life back on track instantaneously, but she’d thrown herself into school (including last-minute bonfire prep) and hoped.
It hadn’t helped. How was she supposed to focus when she was in pain? When thinking about the ball reminded her of holding Chrysanthemum’s hand, of the way her skin smelled? It made her chest constrict.
She was taking her break from helping out at the senior class’s booth, so she decided she should seek Luke out while she could. She didn’t believe she was ever going to fall for him at this point, but he was the missing ingredient for success. And success was all that really mattered.
Lily grabbed a hot chocolate and headed onto the beach. Salty wind whipped at her face as she walked toward the purple-tinged fire, carrying the sounds of voices and laughter. Never had Lily felt so disconnected from everyone else. Even as she waved to people and made meaningless small talk. She was a piece of driftwood that had washed ashore.
There, a blond head caught her eye—Luke. Standing around talking to Chrysanthemum and Anushka?
It wasn’t like Lily could go over there now.
She backed away, just enough to disappear into the fire’s shadow. She shouldn’t watch them, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away, either. Had Chrysanthemum ever gone to the bonfires in the past? She didn’t recall seeing her, and Lily was certain she’d have remembered. It just figured that Chrysanthemum would choose to go this year, another way to torment her.
Firelight danced over Chrysanthemum, making her into something wild and wondrous—something fey. But she and Luke were laughing, having a perfectly normal time from the looks of it.
Apparently, Chrysanthemum wasn’t hurting from what Lily had done. How was that possible? Lily had seen pain pass over Chrysanthemum’s eyes that night. It was why she’d had to look away.
Chrysanthemum had cared about her, she was certain, but maybe … not very much. Or maybe she’d done what Lily didn’t dare to do—cast a spell to make her feelings go away.
Luke leaned over Chrysanthemum. Although their faces didn’t meet and their lips didn’t touch, it was clear they were having an intense conversation. An intimate conversation. What? Why? How?
The hot chocolate curdled in Lily’s stomach. That should be her there. In Chrysanthemum’s place. Or in Luke’s.
“Would you please go talk to her?”
Sonia said, and Lily jumped.
“Don’t startle me like that!”
“If you weren’t pining over Chrys, you’d have heard me coming.”
“I’m not pining.”
She was totally pining. She was a mess.
“How long does it take to get over someone? Maybe my expectations are unrealistic.”
“Longer than two days.”
Sonia took a bite of her s’more with an untoasted marshmallow in the center. Normally, Lily would make fun of her for her refusal to toast them, but she didn’t have it in her.
“Why are you so determined to be over her? I know you think you should date Luke, which is utterly ridiculous, by the way, but this kind of thing can’t be forced. You can’t study or practice your way into a perfect relationship. Not even you. You have to follow your heart.”
“But what if it’s wrong? What if it wants something that’s bad for me?”
“I don’t think it does. But your brain might.”
“Excuse me?”
Lily started to tremble.
“I ask you again: Have you considered that you read the cards wrong? Divination is deceptive.”
Sure, Sonia was talented at divination, but Lily’s reading had been clear. The question annoyed her no less the second time. Still. Could she have been wrong? Life felt wrong, just now.
She could sense panic coming on again, every muscle tensing, her pulse quickening.
Sonia must have seen the doubts creeping over Lily’s face.
“Tell me the exact reading again.”
Lily nodded and wandered over to one of the benches that lined the edge of the beach. Farther from the fires, it was colder, but also quieter. She huddled in on herself for warmth. Sonia sat next to her.
“My present was the Knight of Wands. The obstacles were the five of Wands. The future was the two of Cups. And the binding thread was Death.”
She’d gone over it again and again in her journal since blowing her physics quiz. It was impossible to forget.
“Chrysanthemum is the conflict. She’s always been the conflict.”
Sonia didn’t say anything. Lily tried to be patient. It was easy to discount Sonia’s advice about relationships, considering her constant mess with Evan, but her advice about a tarot reading would be a lot harder to discount. Perhaps that was why Lily hadn’t wanted to hear it previously.
“I can see why you came to the conclusion you did,”
Sonia said at last.
“But I think you let your assumptions guide the reading instead of letting the cards be your guide. Have you considered that you turned your reading into a self-fulfilling prophecy?”
“What?”
“Rookie mistake.”
“Shut up!”
Lily smacked her arm.
“We are rookies!”
Sonia laughed and stuck out her tongue.
“Speak for yourself. I am a Kim. I was reading the cards before I could read a book without pictures.”
Lily groaned.
“Fine. I’m ready to listen. Actually listen. What’s your take?”
“Well, it’s hard to say what it would have been two months ago, but …”
Sonia brushed graham cracker crumbs from her hands.
“Luke’s arrival was the inciting event to spark a change in your relationship with Chrys, but the conflict isn’t Chrys herself. The conflict was your war with each other. You resolved that, and it brought you two together—happiness and love as signified by the two of Cups. Death is a big change, symbolically, so it could be many things—maybe it was about discovering you and Chrys are compatible or that you like girls. Maybe it was falling for someone for the first time. There are many ways to interpret that spread.”
Lily chewed on her fingertips as she contemplated this. Sonia’s interpretation fit as well as her own had. Given the past, it fit better, but that gave Sonia an unfair advantage.
“I mean, it sounds very easy after everything has already happened.”
“Or possibly none of it has finished happening.”
Sonia shrugged.
“‘Divination is a bitch’ is Auntie Marina’s second-favorite saying after ‘Divination is deceptive.’ But it all makes good sense to me. If you’d wanted my untainted opinion, you should have asked for it in September, instead of shutting me down.”
“You’re right. And I’m sorry.”
Lily put her hands over her eyes.
“But it doesn’t change the fact that spending so much time with Chrysanthemum was affecting my grades.”
Wasn’t that the real issue here?
Sonia gave her a hug; then she zipped her jacket higher and stood.
“There’s more to life than tests and GPAs. I say this lovingly, but honestly: Fuck your parents for making you feel there’s not. Now—are you going to the fire with me? I need to warm up and find Evan.”
Lily didn’t get up immediately after Sonia jogged toward the concession stands. It was occurring to her that she was making the same mistakes over and over.
When she’d done her reading, she’d noted that she hadn’t defined what she meant by perfect. She’d assumed perfect was obvious, but it was an undefined ideal in her mind, and vagueness and magic were a dangerous combination. So the cards had defined perfect in their own way, and instead of trying to see that, she’d made the most basic and uncritical assumption—that she needed a boyfriend. That she needed to be normal. That she needed Luke.
Not even finding happiness with Chrysanthemum had opened her mind to other possibilities. In fact, one single setback was all it had taken for Lily to retreat to her original flawed assumption—that a perfect year meant perfect grades, a perfect boy, and a perfect mask.
Despite everything the cards had been telling her, she was still trying to bend them to her will. She wasn’t just acting irrationally; she was being a terrible witch.
Her grades were important. She wanted to be valedictorian and to go to a prestigious college. But did perfect scores make her happy …? Not really. Not like Chrysanthemum had made her happy. Did she even want to go to the same college as the rest of her family? Maybe, but maybe there was another she’d like better.
Maybe Death was about reevaluating her outlook on life.
Maybe Chrysanthemum was the true key to a perfect year.
Ugh, she was so stupid, she didn’t deserve to be valedictorian.
Lily took out her phone. She might be able to redeem her grades, but could she redeem herself? She hadn’t done a very good job of explaining her decision to Chrysanthemum because she’d been too upset. If Chrysanthemum was angry at her, Lily couldn’t blame her. Although, to be fair, Chrysanthemum didn’t seem angry tonight, and that was worse—she seemed indifferent.
That was a lie, though. It had to be. Lily had learned that Chrysanthemum covered up her feelings better than anyone she knew.
She typed out a message to Chrysanthemum, asking her to talk.
She had five minutes before she had to get back to the booth and let someone else take a break. Five minutes to stare at her phone and hope for a response.
None came. Chrysanthemum probably hadn’t heard the text given the noise. That was all. She’d read it later, or Lily would seek her out before the party ended.
But by the time Lily was done helping with the cleanup, midnight had come and gone, and Chrysanthemum had disappeared, too.