Love Charms and Other Catastrophes (23 page)

Hijiri pursed her lips. She could play dumb—it would get her out of the hospital quicker. The other victims were safe enough in the hospital, even if they wouldn't heal without the aid of charms. But that wouldn't be right. Hijiri took the spice box from Fallon and pinned the doctor with a solemn look. “Thanks to this love charm I made. It's only a temporary solution, but it will take away the worst of the symptoms if they keep drinking it.”

She spent the next hour explaining to the doctor and a few nurses how to use the charm, reluctantly having to part with half of her loose leaf tea. She promised she'd make more when she returned to her apartment. She had to. Heart's Ease was not meant to be a powerful charm, but the town needed it nonetheless.

Fallon turned to the detective. “What if Stoffel is drawn to people who are already suffering from love problems?”

“How do you figure?” one of the nurses asked.

Fallon shrugged. “The flyers. ‘Stoffel's Hugs Heal Hearts.' It wouldn't be chasing people with happy love lives if those words are true.”

Hijiri flashed Fallon a tired grin. That made sense. Her own heart had been troubled when Stoffel appeared.

Ken took the empty mug of tea. He breathed in the lingering scent, his gaze soft.

“What is it?” she asked, remembering his reaction to her love charm earlier.

He looked up sharply. The beginnings of a cough bubbled up in his throat. “I love tea,” he whispered.

Hijiri raised her eyebrows. “More than waffles?” His proclaimed favorite food.

“More than I can say,” he said, his smile fragile and fleeting.

*   *   *

Monday brought news of more victims. Hijiri tried not to burst into tears or cover her notes with poetry during her classes. She carried a heavy thermos of Heart's Ease tea with her. Whenever her vision started to darken to pink, she knew it was time for another cup. Grimbaud High couldn't get enough of talking about the charmed robot. Detective Archambault must have felt that releasing information on Stoffel would help keep Grimbaudians safe, so the local paper had printed a front-page article.

The entire town knew about the robot now. They also knew that Hijiri's love charm was making a difference in healing the victims.

Hijiri was surprised to see her name in the article, already wishing she could hide in the shadows of the tunnel until the news blew over. Students who had never spoken to her before came up to her to talk about the tea.

“This is really good for you,” Nico said as he played bodyguard between her second- and third-period classes.

“Yeah, being bombarded by strangers,” Hijiri said, dabbing her wet eyes with a tissue. “If I knew that Dr. Vermeulen couldn't be discreet, I never would have given him my charm to use.”

Nico snorted. “Uh-huh.”

A headache bloomed that had nothing to do with the pop quiz she had taken. “Look, I didn't expect the news to get out so quickly. I was only just in the hospital myself yesterday. This is happening too fast.”

“You should have stayed home and gotten some sleep,” Nico said with some concern.

“I'll sleep when the competition is over.”

Nico rolled his eyes.

She drifted through the rest of her classes and made it to lunch. Crumpled newspapers doubled as tumbleweeds by then; all the paper reminded her of the flurry of flyers Stoffel had spit at her. Hijiri shivered and pushed the thought away. She sat down at the lunch table with vegetable soup and her tea.

“Doing okay?” Fallon asked Hijiri.

“Surviving.” Hijiri dipped her spoon in the soup. Anais and Bear looked as happy as ever, sharing their lunches and talking about the shared elective class they had together. Still, she couldn't stop the warning that fell from her lips. “Be careful walking home,” Hijiri said, looking at both Anais and Bear. If their hearts were even remotely troubled, they could be targets for Stoffel.

“I heard the news.” Anais said with a huff, “If any robot tries to get me, I'll snap its arms in half.”

“You're not quite there yet,” Bear said fondly.

“That robot is just a bully,” Anais insisted. “It makes me so mad to think that it's hurting so many people.”

Hijiri drank deeply from her tea and looked around at the students occupying tables and the lines for food. Any of them could be attacked by Stoffel. Just thinking about it gave her the chills.

“Who are you looking for?” Anais asked.

“Not Ken,” Fallon said, concerned. “You know he's not in our lunch period.”

Hijiri blushed and gripped the table as a wave of dizziness washed over her. “I may be lovesick, but not
that
way. My memory's fine.”

Anais perked up. “So where's this new boy I've been hearing so much about? I'm beginning to think he's imaginary.”

Imaginary.
Hijiri flinched.
He just might be. A bundle of charms in human form.

“He was at the first two challenges,” Fallon said.

“Well, Bear and I weren't introduced,” Anais said, pouting.

Hijiri squirmed and waited for Fallon to smooth over Anais's hurt. They weren't her friends, even though they seemed nice enough. She felt the smallness of her heart in moments like these. A tightness that made her reluctant to share. She took another gulp of tea and tucked her hands under her legs to keep herself from writing bad poetry on her napkins. The school day couldn't end fast enough.

*   *   *

Tuesday followed in much the same way: Hijiri ripped up pages of her terrible poetry and drank so much tea her stomach felt bloated. She spent the night working on her missed-connections love charm for the competition, but it was hard to focus when her heart pounded and longing slowed her movements. Her parents still hadn't called. She wondered when they'd schedule in a time to see if their daughter was still breathing.

Ken was a quiet presence beside her on their morning walks to school. He'd seemed lost in his own thoughts since Sunday.

He came by her locker after school. “Do you mind the company?”

She shook her head. “With Stoffel around, company is a good idea.”

“Is your heart in peril again?” he asked with a twist to his smile.

“I don't know. Is yours?”

Ken hesitated. “Perhaps we're not safe with each other.”

“Let's go,” she said, grabbing his sweater sleeve.

Walks provided her with brainstorming time. Usually. They had only walked a few blocks when Hijiri heard someone angrily call her name. Hijiri turned around to see Clea striding toward them—or a woman who looked kind of
like
Clea. Her pixie cut was in disarray, all the shine and glitter from her charmed eye shadow smeared like a paint stain across her face. One of the crystal butterflies always pinned to her smock had lost a wing.

“I know what you're up to,” Clea said, stabbing the air with her finger. “Very clever of you to take advantage of this runaway charm to steal votes.”

Hijiri gasped.
Is that why Clea chased me down?

“Who's to say
you
didn't craft Stoffel?” Clea said.

Hijiri didn't acknowledge the accusation. Something had upset Clea badly. “Where's Mandy?”

Clea's bottom lip trembled. “She's in the hospital. Stoffel got her.
Right in front of me
.”

“I'm sorry,” Hijiri said. No wonder the poor woman was upset. “Then you should be there with her. My Heart's Ease tea will lessen the lovesickness symptoms, but not for long.”

“This is all because of you,” Clea said. “Ever since you made Mandy and me use that charm in the second challenge, she's been ridiculously upset with me about my makeup habits.
It made her a target for Stoffel.
None of this would have happened if you hadn't meddled in our relationship.”

Ken's jaw tightened. “Hijiri's charms would never create problems that aren't there.”

Hijiri swallowed down a wave of longing and sorrow from the lovesickness. Her head throbbed from the effort. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Ken smiled at her.

Clea wiped her eyes, spreading more glittery makeup. “I'm going to win the competition, I swear.”

“Best of luck to you,” Hijiri said with a fake smile plastered on her lips.

Clea growled and turned on her heel. They watched her walk away.

“Stoffel's turning this town upside down,” Ken said, sighing.

Hijiri couldn't agree more. She took a sip of her tea and tried to push Clea's angry face out of her mind. They fell into step again, heading toward the Student Housing Complex, when she noticed the townspeople gossiping in small groups on the street. When she and Ken waited to cross the street, what they were saying became clear.

“Archambault's making her move,” said a man with a briefcase.

“Oh really? Where is she headed?” said a woman wearing a headscarf against the wind. “I bet money on Love For All's owner.”

The man with the briefcase chuckled. “Then I'm sorry for you. The detective is at Heartwrench.”

Hijiri exchanged a quick look with Ken. No words were needed. They both broke into a run and raced to Heartwrench. Her thermos thumped painfully against her thigh through her bag. Running was good. She could pretend that her eyes were watery because of the sharp wind rather than Stoffel's charm.

A small crowd of people gathered outside of Heartwrench, blocking the car repair shop next door. Two police cars were parked out front, lights spinning. Hijiri stood on her toes and found a pocket of space between two men's shoulders to see the front door open.

Detective Archambault's satisfied expression met flashes from cameras—the newspaper reporters had gotten there too. She wore a sleek black coat with a matching black fedora; she had probably anticipated being photographed after securing this arrest. After all, word always spread fast in Grimbaud.

Behind her, Gage appeared in handcuffs. The man had terrible bags under his eyes and looked as if he hadn't taken a shower in a few days. Ryker trailed his uncle, hands covered in grease, his eyes worriedly flickering between Gage and the police officers flanking him.

A reporter rushed forward with her microphone, asking for details about the arrest.

Archambault sighed and held up her hand for silence. “Gage Chappelle is the creator of the runaway charm known as Stoffel. As such, he must take responsibility for the havoc this charm is causing our town and its people.”

Gage's pale face turned red as he lunged for the microphone. The reporter was all too glad to hear his side of the story. “Stoffel
is
mine,” he said breathlessly, “but it's been tampered with. Someone's sabotaged me.”

Detective Archambault shot Gage an irritated glare, but the reporter inched closer.

“Stoffel was my love charm for the contest. He's supposed to heal anyone ailing from a broken heart with his hugs. But someone had broken into my workshop and perverted the charm so that it infects people with lovesickness instead. You've got to believe me! I wouldn't have created a charm that hurts people!”

“All charms can go wrong,” Detective Archambault said coldly. “Whether an accident or not, people are suffering.”

“Sabotage!” Gage bellowed.

The police officers took him by the arms and led him into the backseat of one of the police cars.

“What do you have to say about this, Ryker?” The reporter shoved the microphone at him. “How do you feel now that your uncle has been arrested for his love charm?”

Ryker took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes with his clean knuckles. “My uncle is a good man. He would not have done this on purpose. But he's always been a little careless with his crafting. I wish he had shared Stoffel with me so I could have helped prevent this from happening.”

“You weren't working on it with him?” asked the reporter.

He shook his head. “Said it was a surprise.”

Hijiri snapped out of her trance once the police cars drove off, leaving Ryker behind with a slew of reporters and questions. Gage was pathetic. He didn't look like a criminal. Her gut told her that something was wrong. She liked listening to her gut better than her heart.

*   *   *

Despite having Gage behind bars, the police hadn't come any closer to ending Stoffel's stealthy attacks on the town. The number of victims grew. Hijiri couldn't keep up with their consumption. By Thursday, she said good-bye to the last of her tea.

“No more hibiscus petals,” the florist told her, wringing her hands. “We'll special order them, but it could take a few days.”

The petals were her key ingredient. Without it, the other pieces of the tea wouldn't work.

Hijiri drank the last drops of her tea and tried so hard not to think of the lovesickness coming back full force in a matter of hours.

“I can do this,” she whispered before heading to her algebra class.

She survived two class periods before the lovesickness pulled her under again. Stoffel's charm knew it had been tampered with by the tea; as if seeking revenge, it made Hijiri's vision turn opaque pastel pink for a few heart-thundering minutes. She smashed face-first into a locker, blind and grasping for anything to hold.

Students shouted for help. Familiar hands grabbed her shoulders. Fallon's hands. Her voice demanded everyone to step back.

Then Nico's horrified gasp. “I'll get the nurse,” he said.

When Hijiri's sight came back, it was still tinted pink and blurry with fresh tears. Her cheeks felt raw from the crying, her throat harsh and raspy.

Ken knelt before her, his hands on his knees. “Where's the tea?”

“Gone,” she choked. “Nothing left.”

Ken cupped her face, forcing her to look at him. “Focus on me, then. Don't let the charm win. You're not suffering from lovesickness. You've got me. The boy who loves you.”