Chapter 15
The next day, Riya couldn’t cross a hallway without being stared at.
She wasn’t the shrinking type. Usually, it was the other way around: underclassmen shrinking under her imposing height. Panicked
club leaders shrinking when they needed to turn in a late form. Students shrinking from her when they were caught breaking
a rule.
But this kind of staring—the lingering, nosy kind—made her want to disappear into a void.
Mel, at least, found it delightful.
“Everyone’s looking at youuu,” she sang.
The whispers, the snickering—it felt like the whole school had turned into a living, breathing thing with eyes trained on Riya. The embarrassment from the dodgeball game was determined
to cling to her like a flaring rash.
“What is wrong with them?” she muttered.
“They’re curious, obviously! Kian’s been following you everywhere. And then there’s all those videos people took of him diving
in front of a ball for you! You. Miss VP!” Mel waggled her eyebrows. “So, what do you do? You smoke him. Stone-cold. Everyone’s wondering if there’s a relationship
on the horizon.”
“How could I possibly be in a relationship with the guy who knocked over your mousetrap car?”
“It’s enemies to lovers, obviously! Read a book.”
“Sometimes I think schools don’t give enough work.”
“God, don’t even joke about that!”
The two of them walked together toward Art class, but the usual trek through one of Riya’s favorite hallways, with bright
natural light, was tainted by the uncomfortable probing of dozens of eyes.
Was this how people like Quin lived every day? On purpose?
“Or maybe,” Mel giggled, “the spell you cast did work after all! Except when you cast the love spell, you accidentally cast
it on the entire school instead. That’s why everyone can’t take their eyes off you.”
Riya gripped her AP Psych textbook to her chest.
Mel was joking, of course. But sometimes Riya wondered. Had Mel really not noticed anything? There were moments—quick glances
filled with unspoken questions about Kian. Riya tried to ignore them, anyway.
Maybe she should just tell her the truth. Rip the Band-Aid off. But she hadn’t even told Mel about the Incident.
And if she did . . . would Mel start walking on eggshells, too?
“Speaking of being lovey-dovey,” Mel pivoted, “has our esteemed Student Council landed on a prom theme yet?”
Riya bit back a sigh. “Not yet.”
The thought of planning Prom on top of everything else made her shoulders sag.
“What about the Fall Talent Show? Have enough people signed up?”
“. . . Not yet.”
Another thing she still needed to handle. She’d already spent hours posting flyers and chasing down club leaders. And somehow,
it still wasn’t enough. Not to mention the Talent Show itself was on the 26th—the same day as the next full moon.
Mel gave her a sympathetic smile. “I’m sure once you put up some more flyers, people will be lining up. Oh, what about Kian?
Does he have any talents?”
“Other than reciting awful poetry?”
“Doesn’t he play guitar?” Mel grinned. “Maybe you could ask him. I’m sure he’d do it, if you asked. He’d probably do anything you asked.”
Riya’s stomach soured. The worst part was, Mel wasn’t wrong.
Mel giggled. “God, can you imagine? Sometimes I worry if you told Kian to jump off a cliff, he’d—”
“That’s not funny.”
Riya’s voice came out sharper than she’d intended, but still. It wasn’t funny.
Mel blinked, startled. “Oh . . . you’re right. I’m sorry, RiRi. That was thoughtless.”
“No, I’m sorry.” Riya rubbed at her brow. “I overreacted.”
Mel studied her. “Hey. Are you okay? I know you’re stressed, but—is there something else going on?”
Riya met her gaze. There it was: her chance to finally open up. All she had to do was say it.
Just say it.
Her heart hammered; she could almost feel the words clambering up her throat. She opened her mouth—
“Talking about me?”
Kian slid into step beside them so smoothly it was as if he’d always been there.
Riya flinched. Had the curse installed some kind of homing beacon? No matter how much she tried to avoid him, he always somehow materialized. Just this morning, he’d appeared so suddenly around a corner that she’d dropped a pile of Student Council
printouts. He’d immediately dropped to his knees, apologizing loudly as if he’d personally insulted both her and her ancestors.
She had to yank him back up to get him to stop.
It was ridiculous. Humiliating.
And yet, there was something about him. The way he threw himself into everything as if he had no instinct for self-preservation.
Like when he dove in front of Quin’s dodgeball. Like it was his job to protect her.
How could someone be that unguarded? That unafraid of looking like a fool?
“You . . .” She cleared her throat. “You don’t have class around here.”
Mel’s eyebrows shot up. “Do you have Kian’s schedule memorized?”
“No, I just—” Riya groaned. She did, but only because it made avoiding him easier.
Kian’s eyes glinted. “Careful, Riya. If you keep tracking my movements like that, I might get the wrong idea.”
He turned to Mel, who was now eyeing him like he was a weird new bug—unsure whether to squish or study him.
“Hello, Riya’s friend,” he said brightly.
Mel edged behind Riya, doe eyes narrowing.
“Don’t worry,” Kian added with a chuckle. “I’m not here to break anything else of yours.”
Then, softer: “Actually—I never apologized. I was in a rush that day, and I didn’t mean to ruin your Physics project. I’m
sorry.”
Mel blinked. “Oh.”
“No, really. See, my dad had a fall at work—I was heading to the hospital. But still. That’s no excuse. I’ll make it up to
you.”
Riya stared.
She hadn’t expected that. Any of it.
“You didn’t tell me. I—I hope your dad’s okay,” she said.
Mel fidgeted. “Yeah. Me too. I mean, my Physics grade did take a hit. . . .” She shrugged. “But I hope he’s okay.”
Kian smiled. “He is now. Thanks.”
A beat passed. Then Mel rolled her eyes. “. . . Okay, fine. Apology accepted.”
Riya exhaled. For once, Kian hadn’t made a joke or pulled some over-the-top stunt. He’d simply apologized, earnestly. And
it had worked.
“Thanks, Kian,” she said. “For saying that.”
“Sure.” He grinned. “Oh, right—one more thing.”
He reached into his backpack and pulled out a red CD case, holding it out to her.
“The Marías,” Riya read. “Why—?”
“A peace offering,” he replied. “My apology to you. For gym yesterday.”
She looked at him, puzzled.
“You said you liked them. In the car. You looked relaxed when the music was on.” He met her eyes. “So I figured I’d bring
the music to you.”
Her fingers hovered over the CD. Accepting might encourage him. Not accepting might crush him. He watched her like the choice
mattered.
“You don’t owe me anything,” she muttered.
“Take it,” he urged. “I want you to have it. And if you like it, I’ll get you some of their newer stuff. If you don’t have
a CD player, I can get you one. Or a record player. Or a diamond ring, if you’d—”
“Please don’t.”
“Too late. I’m already saving,” he said cheerfully.
She bit her lip, then—against her better judgment—took the CD.
Mel’s gaze flicked between them. “Sorry to interrupt,” she said slowly, “but how exactly did you guys get to talking? You
never actually told me.”
Kian brightened. “Funny story, actually. So Riya accidentally cast this—”
Riya clapped a hand over his mouth. “He never tells it right. But there’s not much to say.”
Beside her, Kian’s eyes went vaguely delirious.
“Uh, RiRi?” Mel whispered. “I don’t think he can breathe.”
“Oh.” Riya let go. “Sorry.”
Kian gave her a lopsided smile. “That was . . . incredible. Your hand smells like jasmine. And soap. Like if clean were a
smell. Honestly, if that was the last thing I ever smelled, I’d die happy. Do it again, but this time, what if you put your
hand on my neck and squee—”
“Okay, we’re done here!” Riya interjected. “Go to class.”
“Your wish is my command,” Kian said with a wink. “Enjoy the CD. I got way more where that came from.”
Riya gave him a confused look, but he was already walking away.
Suddenly, the bell rang; students began to scramble to their classrooms.
Mel shook her head as they walked. “Gosh, he’s so much friendlier than I realized. It’s like he’s a different person. What even happened to him?”
Riya looked down at the CD case still in her hand.
If she told Mel now, there’d be no going back. No more pretending she could handle this alone. And what could Mel even do?
Nothing would undo the damage. Nothing would stop her from feeling like a fool.
“Maybe love really does transform people,” Riya said, a weak whisper in the emptying hall.
Mel didn’t reply at first. Her brow pinched, like she was weighing her words.
Then, finally, she smiled.
“I hope so,” she said.