Page 11 of The Cupid Chronicles

“Shut up,” I retort.

There’s no such thing.

“Fine,” I say out loud, to no one. “Fine. Think you can outsmart me? Ha! I’m anart teacher.”

I take the paper from my door in one hand, and in the other I grab my phone. I confidently walk down to Matteo’s door.

If there’s someone playing a trick, I’ll catch them,I think.

I open the camera, zoom in on my welcome mat, and hit record. Holding the camera pointed down the hall at my door, I drop the paper in front of his.

Looking at the screen, I see there isn’t a paper in front of mine. I look down, and the paper still sits right in front of his door.

“Ha! There! See?” I keep the camera on my mat as I walk back to my door. Still aiming the camera on it, I look back at his door.

The paper is still there.

I start narrating.

“So, someone has been trying to play a prank this morning with a stupid newspaper that keeps appearing in front of my door. It must be a magic trick or something, but I think I finally outsmarted whoever is pranking me. See?” I whip the camera down to Matteo’s door, and there still sits the paper. “Paper. By his door.Hispaper,hisname,hisproblem.”

I turn the phone back to my mat . . . which is still empty. “And there! Look! No paper!”

I swing the camera around at my face.

“Take that,magic building.”

I click off the camera and look down.

There’s a rolled-up paper on my welcome mat.

I cover my mouth and stare at it in disbelief. My eyes are wide as I search the halls for some sort of hidden camera or something—anything—to explain what is happening.

But no. There’s not.

There’s just a rolled-up newspaper on my welcome mat. There has to be a logical explanation for this.

Drugs? No. Gas leak causing hallucinations? Plausible.

I start sniffing around the hallway, trying to find a tell-tale rotten egg smell. Thathasto be it. I angle up and down, moving around like a bloodhound having a breakdown. I don’t realize what I’m doing or how I look until my elderly neighbor opens her door to find me on all fours, nose pressed against her door jamb.

I look up at her face, which is a mix of surprise and confusion.

“Oh! Ha, ha, I was . . . erm . . .” I frantically look around and pretend to grab something from the floor. “. . . I was just looking for this, uh . . . pen cap! Found it!”

I try to shrink as I get up and plaster on a huge smile.

“Are you having an episode?” the woman asks me.

“I’m all good!” I wave at her. “Gotta go!” I turn and shuffle down the hallway.

Brooke and Liz have gotten in my head. That’s all this is. I’m imagining things. Or maybe I’m still asleep. Stuck in a dream state. Right? That’s it. I’m still stuck in a dream.

MAGIC,my brain insists.

“I said, shutupalready,” I tell my brain.

I pinch the thin skin of my wrist. It hurts. So . . . definitely awake. Definitely think my mind is playing tricks on me.

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