Love Charms and Other Catastrophes Read Free

fries before coming here. The smell made Hijiri’s mouth water.
    When Nico spotted her, he opened his arms for a hug. Hijiri obliged, albeit stiffly, her chin bumping against his shoulder. He was tan and smelled damp like canal water, the brown hair on his head burned almost blond by the sun. She had never expected to become good friends with Nico, but helping him when Martin fell under the spell of Camille’s love charm had solidified a bond between them. Like Fallon, Nico had stayed in touch with her over the summer with occasional phone calls.
    â€œNo more bank statements this year,” Hijiri said, remembering their last phone call. Nico had moved up in student government from treasurer to vice president, a role he was happy to take on since it meant spending more time with Martin.
    â€œI know,” he said. “Do you think I can handle being vice president?”
    Hijiri shrugged, smiling. “Ask your boyfriend.”
    Nico brightened. “He believes in me.”
    Martin Pauwels hung back, fiddling with the mayonnaise container. He looked healthier than the last time she saw him; his pale skin had some color to it, and his glasses were smudge-free. He took his job as student government president seriously; he even showed up to the party in his casual uniform: khakis and a polo shirt embroidered with the school logo.
    â€œIf he does more than the last vice president, he’ll be perfect,” Martin said, putting the cap back on the empty container. “Nicolas promised that I would be spending less time on paperwork this year.”
    â€œHe still isn’t using your nickname,” Hijiri whispered.
    â€œI don’t mind,” Nico whispered back. “Whenever he says my name, it feels like a nickname.”
    Martin sat in one of the chairs and pulled a bundle of papers out of his back pocket. He smoothed the creases and muttered something about a fifth draft.
    Nico leaned on the back of Martin’s chair. “Put that speech away. We’re at a party,” he said softly.
    â€œI’m not happy with it,” Martin said.
    â€œThe freshmen are going to be bored and overexcited at orientation anyway. You don’t have to put in so much effort.”
    â€œBut it’s my last speech.” Martin put the papers away and sighed. “Being a senior feels … so final. It’s all going to be over soon.”
    Worry flashed in Nico’s eyes, but he squeezed the back of Martin’s chair and said nothing.
    Hijiri fidgeted. She was about to speak when the twins asked everyone to come to the table. She grabbed the nearest chair, facing the ocean, while Fallon and Nico sat on either side of her. The twins sat on opposite ends of the table, raising their goblets of raspberry lemonade like queens.
    â€œA toast to the rebellion,” Femke said.
    Everyone lifted their goblets.
    â€œA rebellion without a cause,” Sebastian added, “now that Zita is gone.”
    â€œBut we still have our friendships,” Fallon said.
    â€œAnd bravery,” Nico said, smiling at Martin.
    â€œAnd a new mission,” Mirthe said. All eyes locked on her. “Later. Let’s enjoy the food.”
    Hijiri filled her bowl to the top with fish stew. She ate quietly, listening to everyone talk about their plans for the semester. The stew was thick with carp, carrots, onions, and potatoes, seasoned with bay leaves and sage. The richness warmed her inside and out. Sand swirled at her ankles, stirred by the breeze. The party was delightfully caught between hot and cold. Maybe it was that dreamlike juxtaposition that made Hijiri anxious for the punch line—what new adventure could the twins reveal?
    â€œDo we have something to worry about?” Hijiri said into her bowl.
    Femke dipped a fry into the mayonnaise and chewed thoughtfully. “What, indeed?”
    Hijiri’s head snapped up. She hadn’t realized she had spoken aloud.
    Mirthe’s eyes