Page 46 of Witch You Would
We were here to see a special exhibit of magical glass sculptures by a super-famous artist, Everly Bale. Instead of being displayed in the gallery, each piece had been placed somewhere on the grounds, for people to find as they wandered. All of them felt as if they belonged in nature. A miniature tree sprouted from the ground, spread leaves and branches, then grew a single golden pear that dropped and shattered into glittering dust, from which another tree grew as the first one shrank and disappeared. A vibrant peacock opened and closed its incredibly realistic tail feathers. A tiny fairy with iridescent wings and a flower hat climbed a cluster of glowing pink oyster mushrooms.
The difference between this quality of enchanting and the stuff we’d done fast on a soundstage was enormous. I didn’t havean artsy brain at this level, but in a way, this was the dream: winning that space at the Desgraves Studio to create for awhole year, to learn and grow. All reagents and gear provided, no other major responsibilities to deal with, and that bigcash prize to cover expenses. I could translate and test all of my abuela’s recipes, and if I managed to finish that early,I could figure out what my version of these kinds of experimental projects might be. I could play and have fun instead ofonly doing what people ordered.
But if we lost... I slammed the door on that thought, locked it, and fed the key to an alligator.
Camera crews trailed after us and our tour guide as we walked down shaded paths until we reached a long, covered corridorwith limestone walls that overlooked a lake. Ducks swam, ibis and heron stepped in the shallows, and turtles sunned themselveson the rocky shore. A sculpture that looked like a beached jellyfish stretched its long tentacles into the water, the balloonypart expanding and contracting like it was breathing.
It was weird being here and pretending everything was cool after what happened last night. We’d hung out on the pool deck when we got back to the hotel, trying to cheer up Quentin and Tanner, who were both still trapped in the hotel with us until filming was finished thanks to the power of those lawyer ninja NDAs. Quentin swore their spell shouldn’t have gone wrong, that he thought someone might have messed with it. Felicia made an ugly comment about accepting responsibility for his failures and not wallowing. I snapped and asked her if there was an ice palace somewhere missing its princess, and she got all huffy and left.
Quentin thought maybe something happened during the power outage, when he and Tanner were in the supply room. That was whenAmy spilled the tea that Felicia had been standing near Quentin’s station when the room went dark. I didn’t think she neededto cheat to win, but who knows what people will do to get what they want.
Too bad for Quentin that no one could prove anything was sus. I had to focus on winning more than on what went down in roundone.
Quentin still got to come along today, even though he was cut out of group shots. He kept mouthingwowand touching plants like he was having a religious experience. I didn’t blame him. I was more into libraries than nature,but this place felt immense and peaceful. It made you a tiny part of something older and more beautiful than human problems.
Amy and Dylan seemed to be enjoying themselves, too, though poor Amy had to huff an allergy charm as soon as we got here.She wore a long-sleeved dress to protect her skin, and a cute straw hat with sunscreen spells woven into the brim. We’d alllotioned for safety, but she was definitely the palest of us.
Felicia’s hat was more fashionable: white straw with a turquoise ribbon that matched her turquoise-and-yellow shirt and white capris. Big chunky sunglasses hid her eyes. Once again she wore heeled sandals that made her even taller; I thought I would twist my ankle just being near them. She looked like a runway model. A winner.
Charlotte rocked a sleeveless pantsuit and pearls that felt more corporate than nature walk. I hoped that maybe, possibly,I might be able to chat her up and convince her I was a hundred times more awesome than Felicia, but so far no luck. She stuckwith her partner, even though neither of them seemed super talky.
I was hyperaware of Leandro standing near me the whole time. Today he wore a cream-colored guayabera embroidered with blackand yellow butterflies, which—of course—matched my off-white shirt with black stripes. The universe conspiring.
I really wished I knew more about flirting. I second-guessed everything. Should I touch him more? Where? His arm? Should Ismile at him? Point stuff out to him? Act natural and stop worrying about it so much? Was worrying making things worse?
“Hey.” Leandro nudged me and pointed with his chin.
It took me a few seconds to see the sculpture that looked almost exactly like a cluster of bananas.
I giggled into my hand. “Oh my god, are you going to be banana-ing me for the next two weeks?”
“Absolutely.” He grinned. “I’m going to practice pulling them out of random places. My sleeve, your ear—”
“No, do not!” I slapped his arm gently. He rubbed it like I’d hurt him. Exagerado.
Oh, was that flirting? Ay! Shut up, brain.
The tour guide talked about the history of the gardens and the plants in the area. Syd occasionally cracked a joke; I wondered howmany of them had been prepped in advance. Being funny all the time must be hard.
Probably for Leandro, too. Huh.
The tour ended at the lake, where we stopped for lunch. Tables had been set up at the far end of the covered area, all superfancy: wooden chairs and white tablecloths, actual glass glasses and nice plates, like a rich couple’s wedding. We even hadassigned seating. Once we’d all settled, waiters served us baskets of bread and individual meals of mahi mahi, rosemary garlicroasted potatoes, and asparagus. Big step up from yesterday’s party platters.
Leandro, who sat next to me, leaned closer. “Are we still filmingCast Judgment, or did I time travel back to my Tía Sandra’s wedding?”
“I was just thinking the same thing,” I said.
“You were at Tía’s wedding, too?”
“No jodas! You know what I meant.” I smiled anyway. Was this flirting? Wait, we weren’t on camera right now, so it didn’tmatter.
“I hope we get cake. And not the one my tía had.”
I swallowed a bite of fish. “Was it one of those party cakes? With the pudding?”
“The soggy ones with the rum?” He made a gagging face. “No, it was dense, too much fondant. Huge white roses all over.”
“My cousin Gina would die. She’s an event planner, and she has, like, perfect taste.”
