Read The Potion Diaries Online

Authors: Amy Alward

The Potion Diaries (31 page)

BOOK: The Potion Diaries
5.83Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

‘No, it’s far too dangerous for you, Molly,’ I say.

‘I’m part of this family. This is our Hunt.’

I stare at her. She suddenly seems so much older than twelve in that moment. Kirsty is staring at her too.

But Dad shakes his head. ‘Molly, it’s absolutely out of the question. We will hire a specialised Finder, that way both of you can stay safe. And let’s not forget that Emilia is still out there. Who knows what she’ll do.’

‘That’s so unfair. You let Sam do whatever she wants, but you never let me do anything.’ She runs out of the room, and I hear her take the stairs two at a time to her room, slamming the door.

I stand up from the table. I can’t even look at Dad, or Mum, and definitely not at Kirsty. I’m angry, but I’m also ashamed, which only makes me angrier at them for making me feel shame. Do I love Zain? I’m not even sure. But I know things have changed between us, and that this fire in my chest is new and uncomfortable. To be honest, I still can’t really believe he knows my name. Let alone, that we might be . . . well,
special
to each other . . . after what we’ve been through. I don’t even dare put it into words in my head. Can you put a jinx on something just by thinking about it? Can you ruin something before it’s even begun, with the pressure of expectation? Of course you can, and that’s why I say nothing. Not even to myself.

He didn’t know – couldn’t have known – about the next ingredient. He could have figured it out, I suppose. And now I’m doubting him, doubting me, and that makes me feel worse.

‘I need to take a walk.’ When I leave the house, there’s no word of protestation from anyone, no ‘be back by ten’, or ‘where do you think you’re going?’ They just let me leave. They’ll be busy trying to find a specialised Finder, anyway.

A sick feeling turns my stomach, gnawing at my insides, as the cool air blasts my skin. What if they’re right? What if he just used me last night? Was I an idiot for believing that there might actually be something between us?

I don’t really care where I’m going, I just let my feet take me away from my home. But they have a mind of their own, and soon it’s pretty obvious that I’m heading towards the one place I might find an answer. Or, if not an answer, then maybe a big hug. If I can get her to forgive me, that is.

Anita.

I turn my walk into a jog, getting rained on by a light drizzle. I careen around the corner, flying through the Patels’ front gate until I almost collapse against their front door, and try to regain my composure. Suddenly I’m scared. I need Anita like I need air, but there’s every chance that she won’t forgive me.

What I did was pretty bad, after all.

Even though I didn’t knock, I must have caused enough of a ruckus, as I can hear locks shifting in the door. I push back from the frame and run my hands over my hair, trying to make myself look presentable.

Anita’s mum answers the door. She’s obviously surprised, but smoothes her reaction into a gentle smile. I’ve always loved Mrs Patel. Her cooking introduced me to curries and naan bread, and she’s never raised her voice, even when Anita and I stole her henna kit and spilled black goo over her handmade carpet.

‘Come in, Sam, dear.’

‘What are you doing here?’ says a voice laced with daggers.

I stop on the threshold and look into the house, where Anita is standing at the top of the stairs. I shuffle in a bit as Mrs Patel shuts the door behind me; she shoots a look I can’t see at Anita, who rolls her eyes. Then Mrs Patel disappears into the living room, leaving me in the hallway, feeling only a few inches tall.

Anita folds her arms over her chest. ‘Shouldn’t you be off Finding somewhere?’

‘I’m here to say sorry . . .’

‘Well, you’ve said it. See you around.’ She spins on her heels.

‘Wait, Anita.’ She hesitates, which is enough encouragement for me. I jump up the first couple of stairs, so familiar with this house it might as well be my own. ‘I
am
sorry. Really sorry. What happened in Bharat – it wasn’t me. I wasn’t thinking.’

Her shoulders slump a little. I climb one more stair. ‘I . . . I got swept away in this whole Hunt thing. I can’t believe I hurt you like that.’

‘You really did hurt me.’

‘I know—’

‘We would have helped you, supported you, right until the end, even if it wasn’t us who made the potion . . .’

‘I know.’

‘And Arjun is totally crushed too.’ She spins around, now, to face me. ‘You owe him an apology.’

I cringe. ‘Of course. Of
course.

She opens her arms, and I rush up the stairs two at a time and fall into them. Immediately, we both burst into tears.

‘I am so stupid,’ I say through sobs.

‘Yeah, you are,’ she replies, but there’s laughter in her voice now. Our tears have made ridiculous figures of us both, clutching each other on the landing. Still clinging to each other, we sidestep along the hallway towards her room, collapsing on her bed.

‘So, what happened?’ she asks, finally.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, you look like you’ve just run through a bramble bush backwards – did you run here? Something must have happened . . . was it Zain?’

My eyes open wide. ‘How did you know about that?’

‘The rescue was all over the casts, and you two looked pretty cosy in all the pictures after the mountain rescue.’

I blush, but then words tumble out of my mouth before I can stop them. ‘We went through so much on the mountain. And then we had this crazy talk back at the hotel and I just felt so close to him. I think he feels the same way about me. Wow, I haven’t really admitted that out loud before! But then I figured out that the next ingredient is unicorn tail.’

‘No way, really?’ Anita asks, her eyes wide.

‘Apparently the rumours about unicorns aren’t true – it’s not about being a virgin, it’s about never being in love at all . . . and because of my feelings for Zain, Kirsty and Dad are convinced he’s used me to prevent us from getting the ingredient. They think he duped me for the sake of the Hunt, but that’s crazy because I know he isn’t like that.’

‘Isn’t he, Sam?’ She looks at me.

‘Look, I know you don’t know him very well, but we really bonded. I mean, we saved each other’s lives but he also really understands me. He’s got the same kind of pressures at home that I do. And I know he always came across like a bit of a stuck-up jerk in school, but when you talk to him he’s not like that at all . . .’ I keep babbling, but she remains quiet. It even starts to annoy me slightly.

She sees it in my face, though, because she responds. ‘Sam . . . have you heard from Zain since you got back?’

I check my phone, even though I know there are no messages from him on it. I flick it on and log in to Connect. Nothing there either. He’s not even added me again as a friend.

I want to keep my heart, my hope, above water, but he’s making it damn hard. So is the look of – is that pity? – on Anita’s face. ‘It hasn’t been that long since we got back from the mountain,’ I say defensively. But even in my mouth, the words seem hollow.

Anita leans over me, and grabs a remote control off the bedside table. ‘You haven’t seen any casts since you’ve been home, have you?’

I shake my head, suddenly filled with trepidation.

She puts her hand on my arm, and squeezes it. ‘Sam, you’re my best friend. I’m not going to pull any punches with you, okay? Just know that I love you and that essentially, boys suck.’

A vice tightens around my heart. I’m not sure that I can breathe. I don’t know where Anita is going with this, but it can’t be good. I opened up to Zain, against my better judgement.
Please don’t tell me my better judgement was right
, I plead to the television.

She taps the top button on the remote, and the TV jumps to life. It’s already showing the main newscast, the breaking story about an earthquake in a far corner of the globe.

And now, in national news . . . after last night’s devastating breakdown at the Palace, Princess Evelyn appears to have taken a turn for the worse. We are told now the government is considering evacuating Kingstown Hill, and with the Hunt suffering several setbacks insiders fear that time is running out for our nation’s sweetheart.

‘Oh no,’ I say. ‘What happened to Evelyn?’

Anita shushes me with her hands. I shut up and keep my eyes glued to the screen. I couldn’t stop watching anyway, not after the presenter’s next words hit my ears:

Son of ZoroAster’s CEO and friend of the Princess, Zain Aster, visited her earlier today, and came out making a shock announcement.

‘I spoke with Princess Evelyn and I can confirm that the poison she took was a love potion meant for me,’
Zain says, to the snap and fizzle of flashbulbs, and the furious shouting of reporters.

‘Zain, Zain, tell me, why did the Princess feel the need to use a love potion? Do you not feel the same way?’

I can see Zain’s brow furrow, his face the picture of concern.
‘I don’t know why Evie chose to use a love potion.’
His voice chokes up as he speaks, and the tip of the knife slides into my heart.
‘I’ve always loved Princess Evelyn. I love her now. And I will do anything to get her back. The ZA team are doing everything we can to win the Hunt, and we are confident that we will have the cure – before it’s too late.’
He doesn’t sound like himself. He sounds older, more serious. He leaves the screen, descending the stairs of the Palace to cries of his name.

The news presenter comes on again, and looks like she’s almost holding back tears herself.
‘We here at News 21 wish Zain the best in bringing back the Princess from her love sickness. We know that these two are meant to be.’

There’s a click as Anita changes the channel. Another newscast takes over, but this time it’s a panel show with four commentators all debating the Hunt. One of them is Dan, but his rounded shoulders and pale face tell me he’s losing whatever side of the debate he’s on. A woman so tanned she glows bright orange mentions my name.
‘That Sam Kemi,’
she says,
‘is clearly just out to seduce Zain so he won’t have a chance at saving the Princess.’

‘That’s not true,’
refutes Dan.
‘She—’

But the woman cuts him off.
‘You weren’t on the mountain, so we can’t rely on your “on the scene” reports any more, Dan. I’ll tell that ordinary girl one thing: True love conquers all, missy, so you might as well back down.’

Anita rushes to turn the TV off. She takes my hand in hers, but I barely even feel it. I’ve gone numb all over. I try to make it compute in my mind. Everything Zain said about Evelyn, and how he felt about her, and how he felt about me . . . was it all lies? Every word of it?

I can hardly believe that I let myself fall for him.

What an absolute fool. And now the media have turned on me too. But I don’t care about them. All I can think about is Zain.

My parents were right. He must have found out what the last ingredient was when we were in the hotel, and then decided to make sure I could never get the ingredient myself. He’s slick. He knew how to get me to fall for him. And I fell. But this time there’s no safety net. Only a hard, painful crash.

I collapse onto Anita’s bed and she strokes my hair gently. ‘I’m so sorry, hon.’

I curse myself for ever daring to take our friendship for granted. I just want to curl up in a ball and let my emotions wash over me like a pebble on a beach.

‘Look at what the Hunt has done to us. Dad is devastated about the lab,’ Anita says, her long hair tickling my cheek. ‘He doesn’t think it’s worth repairing. I guess he’ll have to retire early or find another job or . . .’

I sit up. ‘It’ll be okay.’

She smiles, holding back her tears. ‘It’ll only be okay if it was worth it. You have to win. How is the Hunt going apart from the unicorn?’

‘I’m constantly feeling one step behind. I don’t know if the unicorn tail is the last thing, or if there’s more . . . It feels like we’re close, but we still don’t have the jasmine.’

Anita’s eyes light up. ‘Come with me,’ she says, lifting my chin up and grabbing hold of my hands. ‘I have something to show you that might help.’

‘What is it?’ I can’t think of anything that will help in this situation. Unless it’s some kind of tonic for selective memory loss.

We head back downstairs, through the kitchen where the sweet smell of chai tea wafts in the air. ‘Would you girls like a cup?’ Anita’s mum asks.

‘Not yet, Mum,’ Anita replies for the both of us, heading out to the garden.

Tucked to one side is a little greenhouse. ‘In there,’ she says.

I lift the latch on the door and a wave of heat hits me first, followed quickly by the humidity. All around me are lush plants, their leaves green and healthy. And in the corner is a flash of bright pink.

Pink jasmine.

I spin around, as Anita squeezes into the greenhouse beside me. ‘What? How?’

‘Ah, so you spotted it.’

‘How could I miss it? I thought Emilia had burnt it all?’

‘She had. But, as I would have told you if you hadn’t been in such a hurry to get on that motorcycle, she hadn’t burned it completely down to the roots. I managed to salvage a root, and regrow it here. I was carrying it to show you when you left.’

A memory hits me. Anita’s dark handprints on my backpack. Dark because she had been burrowing in the ashes and soot, looking for the root.

Anita shrugs. ‘Like I said. It’s okay. I forgive you, and you’re going to need it to complete the potion, now we don’t stand a chance. And you need to beat Zain more than ever now. So, it’s yours.’

My eyes well up with tears again. I reach forward and pull her into a hug. ‘Thank you so much. I’ll let everyone know how you’ve helped me. Now we have to wait to see if my parents can commission a Finder for the unicorn tail.’

Just then, like a curse, my phone vibrates. I take it out of my pocket, and my heart sinks. It’s not him, calling to apologise like I thought he might, or to offer some kind of explanation. Because I mean nothing to him, nothing at all, not when he’s declared to the whole world who he’s really been waiting for this entire time.

BOOK: The Potion Diaries
5.83Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Death at a Fixer-Upper by Sarah T. Hobart
When the Heart Heals by Ann Shorey
Stateline by Stanton, Dave
Moth and Spark by Anne Leonard
Fatal Inheritance by Sandra Orchard