Page 22 of Witch You Would
“I’m really excited to work with a spell technician,” I said. “She’ll know everything about all the reagents and equipmentwe’re going to be using. She has a lot of experience helping people solve problems and prep for casting. Maybe she can evenstop me from making mistakes before they happen!” I grinned at the camera, then at Penelope. She was still fake smiling.
“Now, give us a battle cry,” Tori said. “You’re going to win, you’ve got this, whatever.”
Penelope seemed stuck, so I stepped in. “Miami gotta represent! We’re not here to play, we’re here to win. No jokes, justgame face.” I made a fake-macho duck face for the camera, then looked at Penelope.
She laughed. A real one, I think, because it sounded surprised. I held up a hand for a high five, and she slapped it.
“Good, great.” Tori tapped her tablet. “Now we need a few minutes with Leandro alone.” She got up and opened the door. “LittleManny! Take Penelope back to the greenroom.”
Penelope followed Little Manny out, forehead wrinkled, shoulders hunched. Maybe that laugh hadn’t been real. The door closed, sounding loud in the small room.
“Tell us about your charity, Leandro,” Tori said.
This was my chance to sell Alan Kazam’s Schools Are Magic to anyone watching. Even if I didn’t win, this might help bringin more donations.
I explained how Alan started his magic career because of what he learned as a kid in school, how his first performances werefor elementary classes, and it led to him getting a local TV show that eventually went big. Almost everyone my age rememberedwatching him “putting the fun in magic fundamentals.” Then I went into why he had founded the charity, and what the moneywas used for. With any luck, my whole speech would make it into the show, hopefully with some intercut video or pictures fromthe AKSAM archives.
I didn’t mention that Alan Kazam was my grandpa Fred. Family secret.
Tori did more tablet things. “That was great, thanks so much. Since we moved the schedule around, you have publicity shotswith our stills photographer now, then you’ll have time to go back to the hotel to prep for tonight. Did you need anything,any reagents or gear?”
“I’ve got it.”
“Great. Someone can take you out to the van when you’re ready.” Tori opened the door. “Rachel, I need Tanner and Quentin next,please.”
Liam de-mic’d me and Rachel led me to the photographer’s studio space. I posed in various goofy ways for about a half hour,then headed to the exit to wait for transport. Penelope was back in her greenroom, presumably, because she wasn’t outside.
Tonight, I promised myself, I’d have a talk with her. I’d convince her we were a solid team even if I had to make a totalfool of myself to do it.
I’d checked the prices for Casa Coquí online, and I would probably never stay at a place this nice again in my life, unlessone of my parents paid or that legendary show deal manifested. When I got in last night, I’d barely noticed anything excepthow tired I was. Now I took a closer look around.
Cozy sofas and chairs covered in frog-print pillows were arranged around coffee tables, like this was someone’s living roominstead of a hotel lobby. Framed, enchanted moving pictures of ferns and palm fronds decorated the walls, along with morecoquí pictures and mirrors in different sizes. There was even a guitar propped against a cabinet, like someone would be rightback to pick it up.
The front desk was an actual desk, distressed wood painted white with a bubbly glass top. The woman behind it was named Alina,according to her name tag, and her clothes were more casual than corporate. Dark hair, bright red lipstick, and the kind ofsmile that probably made strangers talk to her at the store. I smiled back at her as I went for the elevators.
The third floor had sky-blue walls with rainforest pictures between doors, spelled with short loops of leaves moving or tiny frogs peeking from inside big bromeliads. Near the elevators, there was an ice maker and vending machines with bougie drinks, candy, and chips. Also, optimistically, condoms. My room was first on the left, next to the emergency stairs, which would be handy if I needed tomake any secret escapes without my mustache. I swiped the key four times before it worked, then muscled my way in.
My room was bigger than the one in the apartment I shared with Sam and Ed, with a kitchenette, a queen-sized bed, and a balconyoverlooking the street instead of the bay. The housekeeper had left tiny chocolate frogs on the pillow when I first got here,but I’d told Alina I didn’t want daily service. One fewer person poking around my stuff.
I checked the reagents for the spell I’d be casting at the venue later. Maybe I should explain to Penelope what it was actuallygoing to do. Tell her the secret—one of the secrets—about Leandro Presto: that my mistakes were intentional. Enough peoplealready assumed my incompetence was an act, part of the show; she might trust me if she knew for sure.
No. The stakes for this were too high. Rule number two: I needed to stay in character, to protect my himbo persona. And herreactions when I goofed during the competition had to seem natural.
I couldn’t risk it. I’d have to earn her trust some other way.
The bathroom was swank, with a multijet shower big enough to fit two people. A full-length mirror hung next to the bathroomdoor; I checked for mustache integrity. The new adhesive was holding. My skin would probably peel off after two weeks of this,though thankfully Sam had loaded me up with moisturizers to help with irritation. I pulled out the adhesive remover and brush,then started at one edge of the mustache and proceeded to slowly work it off.
Face cleansed, I had time for a quick nap before the evening event. I flopped down on top of the covers and stuck a pillow over my eyes to block out the sun peeking around the edges of the curtains. Before I could even start to worry about whether I’d be able to shut off my brain enough to fall asleep, I passed out.
A PA pounding on my door woke me up from a dead sleep. By the time I had my mustache back on, I’d missed dinner. A catererin mid-cleanup took pity on me and made me a chicken sandwich, which I ate in the elevator.
Sunset peeked through high-rise condos on the other side of Biscayne. At the front of the hotel, a giant black party bus tookup most of the two-lane Edgewater street. Tinted windows hid whatever sloppy-drunk sins people committed inside. Crew carriedstuff on and off, Rachel furiously tapped her tablet, Liam walked around putting mics on people again, Tori argued with Nateand a massive dude about something, and the rest of us stood around roasting to death. Penelope stayed with her group, andI stayed with mine.
“Ever been in one of these before?” Tanner asked me.
“For a friend’s bachelor party,” I said. “This one’s probably nicer.”
Charlotte’s eyes were hidden by giant sunglasses, but her lip curl told me she thought I’d said something funny. I had noidea what.
