Page 57 of Witch You Would
I slumped in my desk chair and stared at a moving picture of a bromeliad hanging on the wall. I needed a plan for The Talk.How would I get Penelope alone? What would I say? Should I just listen? She’d said she didn’t want to apologize, and didn’twant me to, but what did she want?
What did I want?
Easy. I wanted Penelope. And not just physically, though that was definitely a thing. I wanted to go out with her, to eatcheap takeout on my couch and watch documentaries, to talk about magic theory books and figure out spell recipes together.I wanted a girlfriend, not a fuck buddy.
But wanting it badly enough wouldn’t magically solve the logistical issues. Dating as Leandro was out of the question; he was a character. A part of me, yes, but not real. If I dated someone asmyself, I’d have to hide the fact that I was also Leandro until I was sure I could trust them, which meant I’d have to lie about a huge part of my life. Secrets were a shitty foundation for a relationship.
And the more Penelope liked Leandro, the more I worried that maybe she didn’t like Gil as much as I’d thought. It didn’t matterthat they were both me, because she didn’t know that.
Did her switching teams so easily mean I shouldn’t trust her?
What would Grandpa Fred tell me to do? He’d given me the rules I followed, so he’d probably have some good advice for thiswhole situation. Maybe I could call him on our rest day.
But what would I say to Penelope now?
I put my mustache back on and went upstairs to eat, still lost.
The pool deck was crowded, food tables set up in their usual spot, drinks at the poolside bar, lounge chairs around the pooland regular chairs and tables scattered everywhere else. The sun had set, but it was still hot as balls, even with coolingcharms and the breeze coming in from the bay. The views to the sides were blocked by high-rise condo buildings, but that stillleft the water in front of us, stretching out to the causeway, with its pink and purple neon running the length of the bridge.A few stars twinkled above us, the lights from the beach and downtown reflected in the water.
After Isaac’s pissed-off speech, nobody talked about the production shutdown. They went for non-competition topics: movies,TV shows, sports... Big Manny and Little Manny were arguing with Penelope about something, which Dylan seemed to find funny.I took my plate of chicken and mashed potatoes and sat next to Penelope, who quickly finished chewing and gestured at me.
“Leandro, back me up,” she said. “Best empanadas. Alvaro’s, right?”
“No way,” Little Manny said. “Castillo de las Frutas.”
“I eat those all the time because my friend works there. They’re pretty good, not the best.”
“I keep telling them, there’s this ventana in an office building,” Big Manny said. “I forget the name, but it’s the best.Good coffee, too.”
Penelope swallowed. “Hold up, is it the one in the Trinity building?”
“Yeah, that one! The ventana on the first floor?”
“That’s my aunt’s ventana!” Penelope smacked Big Manny on the arm, then winced. “Sorry. Okay, you win, though: her empanadasare choice. She never brings any to parties because she’s like, ‘Oye, por favor, I make them all week, I’m not making themon my day off.’”
I ate quietly. I knew I should make jokes, be more Leandro. Rule number two: stay in character. I’d never had to do it forso long, though. I hadn’t realized how tired I would be.
“You okay?” Penelope whispered.
Shit. She noticed. Turn it up, Gil.
I grinned at her. “I’m good. Just thinking about all the nothing that didn’t happen today.”
Penelope sucked her teeth. “I’m trying not to think about it, because I don’t want psychic lawyer ninjas to kidnap me. I’mdefinitely not thinking about it anywhere near Quentin.”
Quentin was talking to Amy, his hands moving like he was building something in the air. Tanner hadn’t made an appearance,but neither had any of the other celebrities. I wondered whether they were all hiding in their rooms, or if they’d escapedthe lockdown. Maybe they were eating together and hadn’t invited me.
Normally the thought of not hanging with the cool kids wouldn’tbother me—this wasn’t middle school. But I was supposed to network. Mingle. Not with the contestants and PAs, but with the people who could help level up my career.
Then again, Grandpa Fred’s rule number six: everyone is important. He always said to act like every person I met was havingthe worst day of their life, and I had the chance to turn it around. If I started to rank the people around me by how muchthey could help me, what kind of shitty suck-up would I be?
“Hey,” I said. “You’re Little Manny, and you’re Big Manny, but where’s Just Manny?”
Little Manny shrugged, and Big Manny shook his head.
“He’s around,” Big Manny said.
“Nobody sees Just Manny,” Little Manny added. “He’s like a, what do you call it? The animals that maybe don’t exist?”
