Page 52 of Witch You Would
No “or”! Shut up, brain.
My brain did not shut up. I got hotter. Thankfully we were hustled into hair and makeup as soon as we got back, and then wehad separate confessionals instead of paired ones.
I had told Leandro we would talk later, but I still didn’t know what I wanted to say, so I didn’t look for him when we weredropped at the hotel. He didn’t come find me, either, and I didn’t see him at dinner, possibly because I grabbed my food andtook it to my room for some quiet time.
Except my brain was too loud. I thought about Leandro, and Gil, and kisses, and life. When I finally got to bed, the queenof hearts rested on the nightstand next to me, and we both stared up at the ceiling in the dark.
Quentin and Tanner’s station had been cleared out, leaving only the appliances. It probably shouldn’t have felt weird, butit did.
The rest of us stood next to our areas, Syd and the judges once again at the front of the room, about to deliver our new brief.We were running an hour behind schedule. Lights were lit, cameras pointed in the appropriate directions, and the thing Leandrotold me was called a slate finally clapped, super loud in the space.
Tori had taken me and Leandro aside to tell us we were doing agood job “vibing” as requested, and to see if we could turn it up a little without overdoing it. I didn’t know whether we would overdo it, underdo it, or just do it do it—no pun intended. My stomach fizzed every time I thought about our kiss.
And of course we matched. Were we ever not going to match?
Leandro wore yet another long-sleeved button-down shirt someone’s abuelo had rocked fifty years ago. This one was white andcovered in breakfast items: reddish bacon, buttered toast, cast iron pans with fried eggs inside, red carafes and cups ofsteaming coffee, random utensils... I wondered if it had ever been cool, or if that mystery abuelo had also been a giantnerd.
My apron for the day, courtesy of my sister, was the red of his shirt’s carafes. Instead of breakfast stuff, mine was Cubancoffee–themed: gray cafeteras, white cups and saucers, and swirls of sugar and coffee grounds rising out of iron cauldrons.No yellow, so Bruno had tied yellow ribbons around my buns that brushed my neck every time I turned my head.
Maybe I shouldn’t be flirty. I already looked unprofessional. Who would hire me if this was what they expected? Meatball hairand silly aprons and fooling around with coworkers.
Still, I’d put that queen of hearts card in my apron pocket for luck. After what had happened in the first round, we wouldneed it.
Syd raised their arms. “Welcome, everyone, to round two ofCast Judgment! We’re down to four pairs of casters and Spellebrities, and with every elimination, the difficulty of the brief will increase.”
Right, because coming up with a whole new lighting spell hadn’t been hard.
“You will also be judged more harshly as the rounds progress, so make sure your next effort is twice as dazzling as the last.”
So round three would need to be eight times as awesome as thefirst round? Also, how could Hugh Burbank get harsher? By replacing his blood with acid?
“Remember, every spell you design and cast must be celebration-themed.”
Whee. My hormones were certainly celebrating.
“Without further ado, the brief!” Syd then, of course, paused dramatically and looked around at all of us. “What would a partybe without extravagant ornamentations? We want you to create a spectacular party decoration or centerpiece that goes throughat least two complete transformations. As always, no illusions allowed.”
Two transformations? One was hard enough, depending on what enchantments we used...
Syd gestured at the LED clock on the wall. This time—no pun intended—it lit up with a giant number sixteen and a bunch ofzeroes. “Your time begins... now!”
Fifteen fifty-nine and counting down. Even knowing it would be split into two days, it seemed like too much and too little.
I pulled out my notebook and a pencil and leaned against the counter. Leandro joined me, mimicking my pose.
Focus, Penelope.
“Decoration or centerpiece,” I muttered, writing, “Two transformations.”
“Maybe we start with a theme and back into the theory?” Leandro suggested.
“Makes sense.”
We stood there, thinking. His shoulder touched mine. I froze. He shifted a little and we weren’t touching anymore. I exhaled.
We were supposed to level up the flirty. Should I lean on him more? Smile? Flutter my eyelashes?
Okay, this was ridiculous. I was going to be normal and stop thinking about it, or I’d never get anything done.
