Demerits: 6
Conversations with Steffi: 9
Game suspensions: 1
Public service hours: 19
Hours spent enduring Fiorenze
Stupid- Name’s company: 7.66
Number of Steffi kisses: 2
Days Steffi not talking to me: 2
Parking spots for Danders Anders: 16
Vows to kill Danders Anders: 31
Isn’t there a closer bathroom?”
“Sure,” Fiorenze said, “but the one we’re going to is the darkest.”
“It’s not near your dad’s rooms, though, is it?”
“Oh, no. He has his own bathroom.”
“How many bathrooms do you have?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never counted. Maybe twelve, I guess. But this one,” she said, opening the door while balancing the bowl of salt and knife, “is the darkest. No windows.”
“Okay,” I said, following her in.
Fiorenze placed the bowl on the floor and rested the knife on top of it. I put the antiseptic and Band-Aids beside them and shut the door. The knife looked sharp, but I was more worried by the salt. It was a lot of salt. We had to put a fistful of it in our mouths while we cut our thumbs.
I like salty things, but not that salty. It reminded me of the time me and Nettles had made a cake together—we were both little. We’d gotten the salt mixed up with the sugar, and put in way more than the recipe said because we both have a sweet tooth. It had been the worst shock of our lives when we tasted the batter! I’d almost choked; Nettles had vomited. She’d been so discombobulated by the whole thing she didn’t take any photos. But even after we’d drunk liters and liters and liters of orange juice, all we could taste was salt. Water became ocean in our mouths.
What if I couldn’t keep the salt in my mouth for the count of one hundred? The swap would be ruined.
“You ready?”
“Yes. We should cut ourselves before we turn off the light, right?”
“Tamsin says it doesn’t work unless you do everything in the dark.”
“Fine. If that’s what she says. But no slipping and taking out one of my eyes.”
“I’ll do my best.” Fiorenze sat down with her back against the bathtub. She patted a spot on her right. “You sit here when the lights are off. Just two steps, then sit.” She shifted the bowl so it was between us and picked up the knife.
I nodded. “Got it.” I reached my hand to the light switch and then paused. “Are you sure you want to do this, Fio? Every girl in school, not to mention some of the boys, well, they’d kill for your fairy.”
“They’re insane. Ten seconds with my fairy and they’ll change their mind. You will too, Charlie.”
I doubted that. I’d have Steffi. “My fairy’s much worse. You’re going to get sick of everyone bugging you to get in their car. Just wait until Danders finds out.”
“It’ll beat being chased by every boy my age.”
“So you’re sure?”
“I’m completely sure.”
“Me too. Okay, here goes the light.” I turned it off.
“Hmm,” Fiorenze said. “Turn it back on.”
I did. Fiorenze jumped up, shoved a towel in the gap under the door, and then she grabbed some toilet paper to fill up the keyhole.
“It really has to be that dark?” I asked.
“As dark as possible. According to Tamsin, fairies don’t like the dark.”
“Scared of the dark, and of dirt, and carrots. Fairies are weird.”
“No argument from me.” Fiorenze smiled, then sat back down, adjusting the knife and salt next to her. “Lights,” she said.
I turned them off again. This time we were in complete darkness. All I could see were the lines and smudges on the back of my eyelids. “Dark enough for you?”
“More than enough. Let’s hope it’s enough for our fairies.”
“Okay, I’m walking toward you. One step, two step. Coming down.”
The tiles underneath me were cold. I could hear Fiorenze breathing and feel the movement of air between us.
Fiorenze breathed in sharply. “I just cut my thumb. I’m passing the knife to you, hilt first.”
I took it from her and brought the blade across the tip of my right thumb.
Nothing happened.
“Are you bleeding?” she asked.
“No,” I said, annoyed with myself. I tried again and managed to break the skin. I brought my thumb to my mouth but didn’t taste blood.
“Hurry. My cut’s drying up.”
I pressed the tip of the blade in harder and then drew it across quickly. “Ow!” I felt the air against the broken skin, and then felt the blood dripping down my thumb.
“Okay,” Fiorenze said, grabbing for my hand and hitting my shoulder.
“Here,” I said, grabbing her hand. Clumsily we pressed the two wounds together. “This is so undoos.”
I heard the bowl shifting on the tiles. “Oh. The salt!”
“Yes,” she said. “I’ve got a handful. Now you.”
I felt along the tiles for the salt bowl, careful to keep our thumbs pressed together, and got Fiorenze’s shin. “Sorry!”
“Hurry up.”
I found the edge of the bowl and then slid my fingers into the salt crystals. They were sharp and dry. I gathered as much as I could between my fingers, but couldn’t help remembering what it was going to taste like. My stomach contracted and my throat tightened. “Okay, I’ve got some.”
“On the count of three shove it in your mouth. Don’t let your hand slip.”
“Sorry.” I gripped her hand harder.
“Ready?”
I nodded. Then remembered the dark. “Yes, ready.”
“One. Two. Three.”
I shoved the salt into my mouth, pressed my lips tight together, and tried not to gag. The saltiness was so intense it felt like I was tasting it in my nose. It burned. My eyes watered. Then I remembered I was supposed to be counting to one hundred. I started at twenty. The urge to spit the salt out was so strong that I squeezed Fiorenze’s hand as tight as I could.
What felt like hours later Fiorenze mumbled, “One hundred,” through a mouthful of salt.
“We’re done?” I managed to squeak out.
“Yes.”
I leaped up, knocking the salt bowl over, turned the light on, my eyes watering at the insane brightness of it, then I spat the salt into the sink. Fiorenze spat after me.
“Gah,” she said, turning on the tap and pushing me aside to fill her mouth with water, rinsing noisily and spitting again.
I stuck my head under the tap in the tub and did the same. But no amount of rinsing and spitting was getting rid of that taste.
“It’s so disgusting,” Fiorenze said, rinsing and spitting again.
“Do you think it worked? Do you feel any different?” I maybe felt different, but I couldn’t be sure. All I knew was that my mouth was a salt lick.
She rinsed and spat again. “Don’t know.”
I sucked in more water to swirl around my mouth and turn into ocean. “Maybe if we tried drinking or eating something with actual flavor? You know, rather than water?”
“Genius idea. Hey, shouldn’t you clean up your thumb?”
I looked at it. A flap of skin was hanging off the top and the cut was bleeding copiously. Pox. I had fencing again today. It was going to be fun holding a foil without making it bleed all over again. “Oops,” I said, thrusting it under the tap. “Pass me the Band-Aids.”
Fiorenze rummaged around in the cupboard above the sink. “Here,” she said, grabbing my hand, dousing the thumb in antiseptic—
“Ow!” It stung something fierce.
“Hush.”
She put a big wodge of cotton over the cut. “Hold that there till it stops bleeding.”
I did and noticed the time. “It’s almost seven, Fio.”
“Pox! We haven’t put the book away yet!”
“I’ll do it.”
“No! You might bleed on it.”
“How long does it take you to get to school?”
“Twenty minutes if Waverly gives us a lift and the traffic’s okay. I’ll go beg him and get ready. You can shower in here. I’ll grab your bag and some towels. Won’t be a sec.”
“No worries,” I said.
I put a fresh piece of cotton over my cut and held it in place with a Band- Aid. Then I went into Tamsin’s mirror room. Through my tired eyes I could see the halos of my fairies. The white was gone. In its place there was a healthy red halo and the same thin blue one of my proto- fairy.
It had worked. I had Fiorenze’s fairy; she had mine. With any luck I would never ever hear anyone squeal for joy over finding a perfect parking spot again! I couldn’t wait to see Mom, her sisters, her best friend, Jan, and Nana and Papa crushed with disappointment as they trawled the streets of the city in vain, while I convulsed with laughter in the backseat.
I would never smell of gasoline again!
Tomorrow, or rather today, was going to be the best day ever. I spun around on my toes and screamed. I’d done it!