The Dolls(71)

On the walk back to class after lunch, as Drew and Max head toward the north wing of the building, Liv catches up with me, grabs my hand, and asks, “So did you hear Drew ask me to the ball?”

I nod and give her hand a squeeze before letting go. “That’s awesome.”

“You think?” Her brow creases with worry. “What if he was just asking me to piss off Pascal?”

“He wasn’t. He likes you.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I just am,” I tell her.

She grins. “So how about you? Do you think you’ll go to the dance?”

Caleb flits across my mind, but I dismiss the thought. If I’d had any hope that we could get around the protector rule, it was dashed last night, when Caleb swore me off then literally ran away. “Probably not,” I say.

“You shouldn’t miss out on it,” Liv says. “What if you and Max go together? As friends, I mean.”

“Maybe,” I say. “I’ll probably just skip it.”

Liv looks disappointed but switches tacks. “So that was weird today, huh? In the Hickories?”

I laugh. “That’s a pretty normal day up there.”

She wrinkles her nose and shakes her head as the bell rings. “They all creep me out. Those cookie-cutter girls and those guys who don’t seem to think for themselves—”

“So what’s going on with Drew’s band?” I interrupt her brightly.

She stares at me for a minute. “You’re changing the subject.”

“Yeah, you caught that,” I say with a smile.

She laughs. “All right, have it your way.” And as she starts to tell me about a gig they’re trying to book in New Orleans, and a producer who’s expressed some interest in them, I relax into the conversation and appreciate what it’s like to talk to someone whose life isn’t already prewritten.


My cell rings at five thirty that evening, startling me. I’d been poring over my mother’s herb journal, trying to memorize the plants, roots, and potions that seemed most important to her. Lemon for protection. Blackberry to send evil back to enemies who try to inflict it upon you. Wormwood to prevent car accidents. Bayberry for good health. Chia seed to quell gossip.

I reach for my phone and see Liv’s name on the caller ID.

“What are you doing right now?” she asks after I’ve said hello.

I look at my mother’s journal, open on my lap to a hand-drawn sketch of a zandara doll. “Not much,” I tell her.

“Good,” she says. “Come out with me and Drew, then.”

“You and Drew?”

She’s silent for a minute. “He just called and asked me to dinner tonight. I already had plans with Max, and I don’t want to just bail on him.”

“Sooo . . . ,” I prompt.

“So could you be Max’s platonic date for the night? It would really help me a lot. Plus,” she adds, “I kind of want to get your read on whether Drew’s actually into me. Please come?”

I’m about to say no, but then I think about Meredith and how different Liv is from the girl I’d always thought of as my best friend. Liv may not approve of everything in my life— and I can’t exactly blame her for disliking the Dolls—but she’s never been unsupportive of me. I’ve only known her for a few weeks, and I realize that already, the friendship I have with her means more to me than the one Meredith is so casually tossing aside. I owe it to her to have her back.

I close my book and push it to the side. “Okay, I’m in.”

“Woo-hoo!” she cheers on the other end of the line. “You rock, Eveny. I owe you one. Can you meet us at Cajun Eddie’s at seven? It’s out in the Périphérie, and it’s Drew’s favorite.”

“Sure,” I agree. I check my watch. I know Liv’s not thinking about the fact that I don’t have a car, and I don’t want to bug her while she’s getting ready for a date. The weather’s supposed to be nice out, and I should have enough daylight left to ride my bike. “Just text me the address.”

“You’re the best!” she says before hanging up.

I cast one last reluctant glance at the herb book. As I head to the bathroom to put on some makeup for my “date” with Max, I’m repeating some of my mother’s favorite herbs in my head in an attempt at memorization.

I’ve just started applying tinted moisturizer when my cell rings again. Drew’s name flashes on the screen, so I pick up. “I hear we’re doing dinner in an hour,” I say.

“Word travels fast. Liv said you’re meeting us, but I know you don’t have a car. Want me to come get you?”