Labyrinth Lost (Brooklyn Brujas #1)(7)

“You are extra coordinated today,” Rishi says.

From down here, all I can see are her purple boots, two inches of lime-green socks, and the start of a galaxy printed on metallic leggings. On top of that, she wears her standard-issue red Thorne Hill gym shorts and the black-and-red gym shirt. Somehow, she manages to make it look beautiful. Rishi Persaud usually stands at five foot four, but her chunky boots give her an extra five inches to put us at eye level.

“I like your outfit,” I say. I want to say something more. Something that conveys how relieved I am to see her face or that I missed her over the weekend or that I might be falling apart at the seams because I can’t handle family and school and my nightmares.

Instead, all I do is dust off my jeans and bask in her calming presence. Rishi has that effect on me. She’s so wonderfully bright, like when you stare at the sun and when you look away you have that spot in your line of vision. That’s how Rishi makes me feel. She’s about the only person in school who isn’t weirded out by me, and I don’t want to do anything to mess it up.

“I felt extra spacey this morning,” she says, and points at her leggings. Planets and supernovas stretch around her thighs and calves.

“Funny.”

“You’re a mess.” She bends down. Her multicolored bracelets jingle as she ties the laces to my sneaker.

“I can do that myself, thanks.”

“Clearly not today.” She stands back up. “What would you do without me?”

I smirk. Shake my head. She hooks her arm with mine and pulls me along, exiting the stairwell.

We walk into the gym where kids run around playing basketball and girls who don’t want to sweat sit up high on the bleachers.

“Want to come out today? There’s a show in Williamsburg. It’s kind of a scene, but I think we’ll survive.”

I want to say yes. I want to be the girl who goes to concerts and hangs out after school and everyone laughs at her jokes because she’s effortlessly funny and look at her hair it’s so shiny… I want to be that girl.

Instead, I’m the girl with a jar of sugar and an impending magic spell waiting for her at sunset.

“I can’t. I have boring family stuff.”

Rishi makes a face. In the two years we’ve been friends, I’ve never let her into my house. She’s picked me up, but the farthest she’s ever got is the front porch. It’s not like there’s a sign that says, “Welcome to Bruja Land! Don’t. Touch. Anything.” It’s that I’d be too embarrassed.

“Your life would be way more exciting if you spent more time with me,” she says, dodging a stray volleyball.

I wipe my suddenly sweaty palms on my gym shorts. I look at Rishi again. Her hands are decorated with the burned-amber swirls of henna from her cousin’s wedding this past weekend. She smiles like there’s sunshine inside her and walks like she’s ready to fly. I wish I had a fraction of that. Sometimes when I’m with her long enough, I forget about all the things I can’t tell her—the fear, the cantos, the ghosts. I forget and let myself just be.

The right corner of her lips tugs upward, revealing a tiny dimple. The crystal of her nose ring twinkles with the same brightness in her rich-brown eyes. When she looks at me, I feel like she’s seeing right through me. Like she knows I’m hiding a big part of myself.

“What?” My stomach flutters and I fidget with the hem of my uniform shirt.

“There’s something you’re not telling me.”

My cheeks burn. There are lots of things I’m not telling lots of people. Rishi. My sisters. My mother. Even myself. Sometimes I’m afraid I’ve put on so many masks that one day I won’t be able to recognize who I am. Still, I smirk to play it off because I can’t think of any other way to be.

“I didn’t finish reading Romeo and Juliet,” I say.

“Alex, you know I’m totally psychic. You won’t be able to hide from me much longer.”

That makes me smile. “Of course you are.”

“Speaking of psychics,” she says, “they’re supposed to have a bunch at the Ghoul Ball next weekend. Do you have a costume yet?”

“Can’t I just go as a really stressed-out high school sophomore?”

“Alex, you are not allowed to bail on me. If you’re not having a birthday party, then we will celebrate early with a thousand strangers.”

“I’ll be there.” Damn, my guilt is at an all-time high today. First my family. Now Rishi. Since I can’t invite her to my house, I lied and told her there’d be no birthday party at all.

“Want to walk around the track?” Rishi starts to stretch. The gym teacher isn’t here yet, as evident by most of my classmates sitting around on their phones and a handful of guys failing to slam-dunk basketballs.

I start to follow Rishi out of the gym when I hear, “Duck, you freak!”

I don’t generally answer to “freak,” but I want to see the source.

When I turn around, Ivan is holding a volleyball over his head. He throws it as hard as he can in our direction. I hold my arms up as a shield, but it wasn’t meant for me. The ball slams into Rishi’s face. Her head snaps back and the force of it knocks her on the floor.

Ivan holds his belly and laughs. Some kids laugh with him. Others are too embarrassed for Rishi to say anything, so they look away.