She's Magical

Chapter 1: Meeting My Match

New girl, third grade. It's a clear picture in my head. Well, not really the faces. I was always bad with names. What can I say, I was ten. I mostly remember the Legos spilled on the checkered rainbow floor. Someone must've knocked over the toy chest when they came in. Probably Pandora. She was always a little too happy when she came into class. Swinging her backpack back and forth type of happy. We used to call her Bulldozer, Wrecking Ball, Jackhammer, etc..

Well, we still do. Just not to her face.

All sitting on the floor, criss-cross apple sauce. My brother told me its actually criss-cross pizza sauce, but I don't know if that makes sense. I believe him anyway, and I mumble the anecdote under my breath as I fix my legs into place when everyone else chants "Criss-Cross Apple Sauce!"

That's when the door opened. Slowly. It creaked excruciatingly, and a few made a show of clamping their hands over their ears and scowling. It made a clicking sound as it slammed close. And there she was, the little girl in the sunflower dress, and wide golden eyes. She had a beaming smile on her face. Notebook in hand, pencil behind her ear, and a purple backpack with lots of pockets and zippers.

The teacher quietly coaxed her to introduce herself. "I'm Arcadia Infinity," she said proudly to the entire class. A few oohed-and-ahhed at her complicated name said so fluently, or her equally complicated backpack. Her front tooth was missing. "I love helping people and solving problems. I promise I'll behave." Then she quietly sat down, crossing her legs at perfect angles and smoothing her dress primly over her knees.

She finished the math sheets first. She finished her homework in class. She colored everything right and in the lines. Arcadia Infinity was perfect, perfect, perfect.

And it seriously sucked.

Diamond Margetta and her friends usually play cootie catcher during playground time. And it usually ends in someone daring someone to run up to me and kiss me on the cheek. In case you didn't know, I have a certain...aura. It makes anyone love me, the moment they're in my field-of-effect. I get away with lots of things. Except this.

Diamond and her friends run up to Arcadia during play-time, cooing all over her dress and Mary Jane buckle shoes. Her hair was long, all the way down to her hips. They all took turns braiding it, giggling with glee.

Believe me, I did everything in my power to defeat her. But she was too smart. Too nice. She influenced the grown-ups more than me. Acting all goody-two-shoes, fixing the stapler gun and cleaning the whiteboard. Cleaning up the spilled Legos and color-coding the crayons. She was infuriatingly perfect.

Over the summer, I traded video-game time for flash card time. I cut my curly hair to a T, and I lost my last baby tooth (with the help of a piece of string, a doorknob, my brother, and my unsuspecting, naive, trusting self) filling my mouth with perfect white adult teeth. I practiced my charm power hard. And I was determined to get back in the game.

Sunny Vales Elementary, eleven years old, 4th grade (probably—I don't freaking remember.)

First order of business, first day of school: Make a declaration of war on Infinity. I rolled up my sleeves, ruffled my hair a bit, and stomped my way over. She was sitting at the benches, next to Pandora. As someone who seemed to prize perfection above all else, being best friends with the most destructive person in the school seemed odd. She laughed, loud and bright. My stride falters for the smallest moment.

When I finally make my way over, I don't even have time to declare my hatred for her. Well, I mean, I could've. But then Arcadia smiled at me in the strangest, most...prettiest way. Is that even a real sentence? I suddenly can’t remember how words work. Her bangs had grown right into her eyes, and she stared up at me with gold eyes, calmly and sweetly smiling. I opened my mouth. Nothing came out but a shaky exhale.

My limbs are frozen.

"Y-You...I-I..." I stammered, wheezing out weakly. Arcadia just chuckled slightly, though her eyebrows were furrowed in confusion. Her legs were crossed, criss-cross pizza sauce. She's wearing a sunflower top and ripped jeans.

Did she get prettier?

She definitely got prettier.

"Wanna sit down?" she asked, nodding encouragingly. She definitely thinks I'm crazy. I nod quickly, and I sit down next to her with a heavy thump.

It was like reliving the weird, classic story of boy meets girl—and then boy learns about a thing called puberty, and all of a sudden girl doesn’t seem so infuriating anymore.

Her and Pandora talk about where they got their clothes. I'm dead silent. Was she always so nice? Why did I even start hating her in the first place?

Dear god, have we ever even had a proper conversation before? Did I start this one-sided feud in my head like an absolute psychopath?

"Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

It takes me a while to realize the question is pointed at me. She was staring right at me, attempting in vain to include the weird silent

boy sitting at their table in their conversation. For some reason, I could feel my aura failing. "Just one annoying brother,” I blurt. I wince immediately after. That’s not very charming. What’s wrong with me today?

Arcadia just grins. I gulp, hard. I’m so used to affecting other people, I had just assumed I was immune to other people affecting me. But I was wrong. Very, very wrong.

"I have two sisters. They're maniacs," Arcadia said with a devious grin. "But they make my outfits for me." She shrugs in lazy defeat. She picks the rainbows out of Pandora's Lucky Charms. I find myself scooting a little closer.

Cus I’m feeling affected.

"I like your penny board, by the way," she says, playing with an hourglass cereal puff idly. "You were riding it to school, right? My favorite color's purple."

I had something that's her favorite color. For some reason, that made a weird swirly, fluttery pit in my stomach.

I reach into my pocket, and I hold out a familiar purple box. "If you like purple, you must love rad raisins," I say confidently. I pop one of my own into my mouth. The bright purple raisin crackles and pops and froths into bittersweet foam, before dissolving.

Arcadia suddenly gags. I start to remember why I disliked her so much. "I can't stand those," she retches. "You couldn't make me eat that if you covered it in chocolate and offered me a hundred bucks."

My jaw drops. "You're the devil," I gasp.

"You're the evil one!"

We both laugh, and she teasingly throws cereal at me until I put away my raisins. I straddle the seat so I can face her. My feet barely touch the ground. Hers aren't even close. Her hair is still pretty long. I wonder if she'd let me braid it, too.

"So, do you have anyone you like?" I ask casually, scratching the back of my neck. You know, someone that just so happens to have the name Eros and thinks you're super cute?

"Ew, no. I'd rather not," she laughs. "I like guys as my friends, not boyfriends. My sisters date boys all the time, and they’re always complaining about how dumb they are," she groaned.

I slowly close my mouth. Crap.

"I might like a guy if they weren't so stupid," she says. Pandora giggles in agreement. "They're always just being gross and avoiding girls."

"So, if there was a guy, you know, theoretically, that hung around you in a non-creepy way that was really nice to you, then would you like him?" I ask off-handedly, staring at her hopefully.

She pops a horseshoe charm into her mouth. "Probably."

And that was how our one-sided friendship began.

____________________________________________

Chapter 2: Getting Left Behind

Are you wearing something cute?

And send.

Jacket, check. Red flannel shirt I got for my birthday, check. New backpack, check. Purple penny board, check. Cologne I stole from Adonis's closet, check. The label said it makes you irresistible to ladies. I already am, but—

My phone buzzes.

That sounds like a stalker text. I'm checking out my window right now.

—I need all the help I can get with this girl.

Fun fact, girls don't really become 'not infuriating' after puberty. They stay that way, just for different, equally frustrating reasons.

We're best friends, arguably. It's been a hard-knock life since Breeze moved back last year, and he insists on stealing Arcadia's every free second. It's seriously not fair. I've been with her for four years, and she punches me if I get too close. But she lets him hug her and get all over her, and she just laughs it off. I mean, seriously? He came from St. Snow's, the boarding school for the mentally insane. What does he have that I don't have?

Maybe she likes bad boys. I can be a bad boy.

Arcadia focus in life is helping every little stray kitty stuck in a tree. Since Breeze and Pandora wreak so much havoc, I guess I'm just mostly faded to the background; a mere afterthought in her life. So I just need to get her focus on me.

I take a deep breath. Another year. Another opportunity. This is the year I'm going to make Arcadia Infinity fall head over heels in love with me if its the last thing I do.

You know, you used to be cuter when we were kids.

Thanks, you're such a charmer. ^.^

I sigh. Another year...

❧

Arcadia's never been one to be a klutz. So I take it as a blessing when she tumbles into me first thing in the morning. Her forehead collides with my chest. Is she ever going to grow to a normal height? Hopefully not—she’s adorable at the height she is now.

"Miss me?" Maybe she likes the cologne. Does it make me smell like a bad boy? Is that even a thing? Should I just stop being stupid, like, right now?

"You wish."

I exhale heavily. That didn't hurt. I'm used to it now.

Ok, it sorta hurt.

I merely sigh in response. Every year, she gets twice as cute. She's going to wrap me around her little finger any day now.

Arcadia curses me out and sticks her tongue out at me, scowling.

As if she hasn’t already.

"Want me to give you a piggy back ride to choir meeting? I'm heading over there, too," I ask smoothly, winking. Is that bad-boy-ish? Is that even a word? Ugh, just stop thinking.

Yeah, I'm in choir. Arcadia forced me to join after the party karaoke we had last year in English, and she insisted that I had the 'voice of an angel.' I wasn't huge on singing, even though I knew I was pretty good. I mean, Arcadia thought I was cool for singing, so that was awesome, but Pandora pretty much sealed the deal when she said that choir meant one more class with Arcadia. Plus, the choir room is really cramped, so I get to snuggle up to her during class, for a whole fifty minutes. "You could totally serenade her," she squealed excitedly. "Arcadia's been sooo into that ever since we read 'Guitar Sunset.'

She was lying, of course. Arcadia had to go the nurse during the class reading of Guitar Sunset because the kiss scene literally made her sick to her stomach. But I took the bait anyway.

Arcadia just rolls her eyes at me, as always. One day, those pretty little golden eyes are going to roll right out of her head if she keeps doing that. Of course, I'd never say that out loud. She'd beat me to a pulp.

"Using you as my pack mule is appealing. But you're about as fit as Mary's Little Lamb," she says with mock sweetness in her tone.

Embarrassingly true. I'm one of the worst runners in the school, right behind Breeze. Can you believe it? I'm slower than Breeze. That being said, I'm more of a push-up-type of guy. But that doesn't impress a track-star like Arcadia.

True to her rep, Arcadia takes off like a speeding bullet. Hair whipping in the wind, she never looks happier than when she’s running far away from people.

"Hey, I'm your friend, don't leave me behind!" I shout at her, weakly attempting to run behind her. I wheeze in between every word, my lungs begging—no, screaming for air.

Arcadia has plenty of air to laugh at me. "They should've called you Cupid, ya big baby!"

As if. If I was Cupid, I might actually get you to fall for me.

"I oughta rip that rainbow ribbon out of your hair! You look like a hippy!"

Unfortunately, Arcadia's the only one who knows I've got a temper on me. I fizzle out quickly, but I also boil up pretty fast—like a can of soda shaken one too many times. She says she doesn't mind though. She always just laughs it off and grins at me even when I get really steamed with her. It's a good thing she's the only one who knows, then. I can never get angry with her for too long, anyway.

I somehow manage to beat Arcadia to the door after she tripped on the slope. I've always been better at uphill sprints than long-winded runs. Plus she wasted time having to throw open the heavy door herself, and Cady can barely manage one push-up on her good days.

I slap my hand on the door triumphantly. I weakly pump my fist, and I use the last of my strength to do a football victory dance. "I beat ya!" I wheeze. Arcadia glares at me through sweat-soaked bangs. Her eyes are as piercing as a golden dagger. I pump my fist in response, wheezing out laughter.

"Ha ha, I beat Arcade, ha-ha—"

Then I abruptly eat feathers.

The songbirds do a little chirp of remorse, before flying up to the mosaic aviary. Those little twats better like it. We spent all last year setting it up, and I had very little cuddle time with Cady.

"Are you okay?" Arcadia asks sympathetically, though most of the sympathy is lost in her attempt to hide her giggles. Her face is red with held-back laughter. I spit out the feathers, picking out red and blue fluff. I stifle a gag. "Yeah. Except my mouth turned into Mardi-Gras." All I need is for someone to shove some metallic beads down my throat, and I'm set!

"Sorry about that," Arcadia says sheepishly, still giggling softly. She rakes through my curly locks, picking out bright red feathers. I smile at her hopefully, brightening my eyes with the pull that makes every girl swoon. "You know I can't stay mad at you, Ari," I say softly, just like the tone I've seen Adonis used. Adonis can pick-up a girl over the phone with his voice alone, so I’m trying to emulate the same cadence.

Arcadia deadpans. "Don't even try."

"You're so cold!" I pout as deep as I can. I used this pout to sit at the adult table at Thanksgiving. It's gotta work. A smile, a blush? Anything?

Arcadia goes silent, and I suddenly realize how eerily quiet it is.

"I guess we're early?" she says slowly, blinking blankly. "Huh," I hum casually, as if I actually care. “Must've bumped it up,” I add nonchalantly. Maybe the gods of Love finally heard my pleas and have given me the choir-cuddle time with Cady I was promised.

The door slams open and Luella bursts through, grinning with a mouthful of rainbow braces.

Or, you know, you could just screw me over. Cupid can't cut me a break, can he?

"Am I early?" she says blankly. She's a bit of an airhead, always has been. "Apparently," I scoff, scowling. I know I shouldn't be mad at her. But I am, okay?

Arcadia and Luella hug it out—as I stare at them jealously, wishing I was a girl so Arcadia would hug me. Luella breaks away to sing to the songbirds. I click my tongue bitterly to myself. Well, If Cady won't pay attention to me, maybe I can make her jealous. Airheads are easy to flirt with, right?

"Hey Luella," I say using my smoothest Adonis-voice, nodding my head up. Luella just cocks her head to the side and blinks like a confused puppy. "Why does your face look like that?" she asks politely.

"Oh, come on!"

Arcadia just mockingly pouts at me. I sneer at her, and I sulk into the corner. I notice a bright pink paper on the usually barren bulletin board. I rip it off the tack. The curvy, almost un-readable writing of Mrs. Sweet roughly (I think) says:

Sorry, scheduling mishap! If you didn't get the memo, choir is thirty minutes later than schedule. Come on time!

Then a smiley face, for good measure.

I hand it to Arcadia, and her golden eyes skim over it quickly. She's got a knack for reading chicken scratch, I suppose. I huff in annoyance, and my bangs shake at the gust of air. Arcadia smiles at me strangely.

"W-What? Watcha looking at?" I sputter. I quickly smooth down my bangs, worried I must've messed them up.

"Nothing. You can keep your hair like that," is all Arcadia says, wistfully and mysteriously. She waves me over to the door, smiling gently. "Come on. You can help me set-up dance for Panda." I follow after her, but not before I ruffle my bangs back into messy-place.

Yeah. This is the year.

=================================

The moment we step into the dance room, my day gets worse.

"There's my favorite Arcadia game!"

With a gust of wind, and an unnecessary flick of his hand, Breeze appears, smoothing his wind-blown hair back into place. His charm is almost enough to battle mine. Almost. Unfortunately, Arcadia seems to prefer underdogs.

"Breeze!" she shouts excitedly, throwing her arms around him. The saber in my hand trembles in my fist. Without thinking, I throw it like a lance, determined to break down a wall or something, anything to get Cady’s attention off of blondie. Unfortunately, the metal saber collides with the wall—and bounces off at the perfect angle for it to stab right into the fluorescent ceiling lights.

Arcadia whips around from her happy little Breeze-hug-fest to glare to at me coolly.

"Oops."

Wish granted, I guess.

Arcadia snaps her fingers with a heavy sigh, and a step ladder pops into place below the broken light. "Can't you just fix it?" I mutter, immediately regretting the words as they come out of my mouth. Arcadia's glare at me deepens. I press my lips together tightly to prevent any more stupidity from escaping my mouth.

"There's too many of them. I'm trying to save my energy for any other disasters you guys cause,” she says snippily.

I stuff my hands into my pockets sheepishly, staring at the ground shamefully. I don’t know what to say. Arcadia simply sighs and shakes her head. Then the unexpected becomes real: she grabs my cheeks, stands up on her toes, and kisses me on the forehead. I stare at her aghast, my jaw to the floor.

She just smiles at me tiredly, with a look that says, 'You're trouble.'

"Hold the ladder in place, otherwise I'll do it again."

I place a hand on my forehead, nodding blankly. "Sure, sure." The temptation to do the exact opposite is far too strong. I reluctantly hold the ladder in place, still staring straight ahead in blank shock.

Yup. This is the year.

Arcadia heads up the ladder, and she smirks at me from the top. "Wish I was wearing a skirt, perv?"

"Every day."

"Stranger danger! Stalker trying to rape me!" she shouts. I shake the ladder. "Shut up!" I hiss. Arcadia scowls back at me. "If I fall, you better catch me. Otherwise I'll kill you."

Catch her if she falls, huh?

A devious smirk spreads across my face.

I grab either side of the ladder. Arcadia mutters under her breath as she slowly screws the lightbulb out of place. "Having fun?" I sing, giving the ladder a firm shake towards me so she'll fall in that direction. Arcadia leans down and grips the rung she's on for dear life.

"Shut up and keep still, Cupid!"

Cady drops a bulb, narrowly onto my head. I jump to the side, making the most embarrassing yelp I could possibly make. She turns and makes a loser sign at me. I stick my tongue out at her stubbornly.

I reluctantly set my hands back on the ladder, feeling like I'm on parole from Sergeant Infinity. "I always get punished just cause I love ya," I mutter bitterly.

"Stop muttering!" Arcadia shouts at me. Of course, this was followed by a curse word that I can not repeat.

"Wanna pretzel, Eros?" Breeze shouts, waving a chocolate covered pretzel teasingly at me. I have a stifle a fierce glare. Sometimes I feel like he's gloating because he knows he's closer with the girl I like. But I can't be mean to him, otherwise Arcadia would pound me into the ground. "No," I call back through gritted teeth. "Thanks for asking." Of course, I muttered a not so nice word under my breath afterwards, but I wish not to repeat it.

Then, all hell breaks loose.

Sparks rain from the ceiling, and mini explosions pop here to there, shattering my ear drums. A burst of sparks explodes next to me, and I jump back, letting the ladder go loose. Arcadia stumbles and wobbles, teetering on the edge of falling.

"I'll catch ya!" I shout frantically, throwing out my arms.

Arcadia falls, but not before snapping her fingers and making a beanbag appear—opposite from where I held my hands out. I cough out confetti and glitter, cursing to myself. "Sorry..." I mutter, half-hoping she didn’t hear me.

"Who missed the Panda?" A familiar voice squeals. Oh dear god. It’s the wrecking ball.

A song bird crashes into a light above me, and a rain of feathers fall down onto me. I huff, fluttering one off my nose and back into the air. "We were trying to set up—before you came in."

Luella shrieks, and there's the sound of flapping, panicked chirping, and a crash that sounds suspiciously like pretzels exploding. Breeze shouts, and I shamefully wish that something bad happened to him. Not something big. Just...bad.

Pop-Pop-Pop!

The newly replaced lightbulbs pop in succession, raining down glass into my hair. I realize with horror that a stray spark must've made a home in my curly locks. I attempt to pat out my little forest fire and spit out the last of the confetti in my throat at the same time. "Arcadia, please—" Glitter hacks out of my mouth. I feel like one of those pop-confetti guns. "Fix this," I groan.

Arcadia sighs heavily. She snaps her fingers, and her body shudders all over. Just like that, in the blink of an eye, everything is back to normal. Her expression seems normal enough, but I’ve known Cady long enough to know that she’s trained herself to hide her exhaustion. She’s slouching more than she was ten seconds ago. With every little problem she has to fix, Arcadia’s own perfect image is slowly chipped away at. Now I see why she said she was saving her energy. Any more Pandora incidents, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she passed out. "At least the lights are fixed," I mutter.

True to form, Arcadia isn’t just good at solving problems, but she’s good at assigning problematic people where they’ll cause the least damage. The teleportation freak gets to pour pretzels, and the walking unicorn magnet puts up streamers. Simple, easy, safe (hopefully.) People call it natural leadership quality, I call it a natural extension of her ability to prevent problems. While Pandora and Luella squeal over wether to make electric neon or bright rainbow banners for the dance team, I make a mental note to wear sunglasses the next time I come to dance practice.

“Well,” Breeze sighs with satisfaction, likely after eating half the pretzels he put out. He sticks out his arms, tucking his hands behind his head as he crashes back into Arcadia’s bean bag without a care in the world. Looks like my work here is done."

I’m about to send a snarky retort his way—maybe something like “what, your hard work of scarfing down snacks?”—but before I can, Cady snaps her fingers, and the bean bag disappears—leaving Breeze to fall on his butt with an “oof!” I silently grin, feeling like vengeance was just delivered for me.

Unfortunately, it takes a lot to faze a literal airhead like Breeze. He hops up and snatches Cady’s schedule right out of her unsuspecting hands. “Hey, give that back!” she protests. I’m about to reach forward to steal it back for her—but to be honest I’m sort of curious too. Honestly, I’m sort of kicking myself for not doing that earlier when she crashed into me.

I glance at Breeze as he makes another one of his kooky attempts to flirt with her.

“I'll be seeing you a lot, Ari.” I just roll my eyes. To make matters worse, I can never tell if he's actually serious, which makes him even more dangerous. And yet, they act all buddy-buddy as usual. Arcadia looks so...comfortable around him.

It's really not fair. I’m supposed to be the lovable scamp that Arcadia hates but keeps around anyway. That’s my spot he’s taking.

The spot...closest to Cady.

"Hey, you two," I quickly call, bounding one to wedge between them. I put my arms around both of them, hugging Arcadia just a bit closer to me than lover-boy. "You having fun without me?"

"Stay out of it, pretty boy," Breeze snorts. His spindly, pasty arm wraps around my neck, while his free hand messes up my hair. "I spent hours making it look this good, I'll sue!" I shout at him, weakly attempting to pry off his arm.

Can I sue someone for stealing the love of my life?

____________________________________________

Chapter 3: It’s Not Fair

Classes were eventful, as usual. Same as last year, really. Arcadia, the perfect academic, is excited to burst in the few classes I'm with her—and as a result, completely ignores me. She tells me about how much fun her and Breeze had during class as soon as lunch comes, even mentioning stuff I was there for. But I pretend to nod along, acting interested and hoping my jealousy isn't boiling over.

"And then," she laughs, almost doubling over. She picks out almost unrecognizable food from the air, looking happy as can be. "—Breeze accidentally teleported the airplane to the front of the class, and it smacked right into Diamond's face!"

"Yeah, so cool," I mumble unenthusiastically. Arcadia doesn't seem to notice, though. She just plucks out some foreign looking kabobs. She claims that exotic food tastes better, but I'll never fully understand her. I steal one from her and take a bite anyway—and I reluctantly admit to myself that it actually does taste pretty good. Not as good as my cheeseburger, but decent.

"Arcadiaaaaaa!" Breeze's bright, happy-go-lucky voice slices right through the deafening bustle of the lunchroom. He's standing on top of a lunch table, waving without a care in the world.

Arcadia laughs, smiling endearingly. "Dork," she giggles, shaking her head. I scowl. She never looks at me that way.

"You guys are pretty close," I mention offhandedly. You know, considering you've known him for one year, and I've been with you for six years.

Does she even realize why I've stuck around this long?

"He's funny. Like a cute, dumb puppy."

My eyebrows fly to the sky. "You think he's cute?" I act like its funny. But it's far from it. Arcadia's favorite nickname for me is 'Ugly' and she thinks the Ken-doll with the I.Q. of a cotton ball is cute?

"Not in that way!" Arcadia quickly stammers, cheeks flaming red. "You're even more stupid than he is!" I make little mocking kissy faces at her, asking, "Am I cute, too?"

But on the inside, I'm one degree away from boiling over. Arcadia never blushes for me. She definitely likes him, doesn't she?

"Like I'd ever have a crush on you, dorks."

The both of us? Or is Breeze exempt from that?

Arcadia runs off toward our friends’ table to escape my relentless teasing, leaving me behind. But all I can feel is hopelessness. Am I really the only one that remembered all these years we spent together? I hung around and even became her best friend. But I feel like I just dug my own puppy-love grave, chasing after a promise that never existed.

"I exist, too!" I quickly whine, taking the narrow seat on the other side of Arcadia. Breeze always manages to steal the best seat first. Before he came along, I always filled the seat next to her. I was the one who made her laugh, and there was no one else who could do that. I'm not wrong. He stole her from me. It's just not fair.

I pick at my spaghetti with my kabob stick, suddenly losing my appetite. Then Luella asks Breeze for a lollipop. His eyes brighten in the weirdest way—probably the way I look when Arcadia asks me for something. Like a puppy in the palm of the girl's hand, excited and eager to please. His pale cheeks blush orange.

"S-Sure, totally!" Breeze holds out the lollipop with trembling fingers. He gulps, hard.

I stare at the exchange with astonishment. No offense to Luella, but...Breeze already has the perfect girl after him. Why wouldn't he like Cady?

Does...Does Cady know?

I turn to Arcadia, elbowing her and raising my eyebrow. 'What was that about?' I mouth. Part of me wants her to remain innocent to it all. No matter how jealous I am, I would never want to purposely make Cady sad. But the other part of me wants her to find out so she can give up on him.

Her eyes widen, and she doesn't respond. Like she’s stunned. I wrinkle my nose. What's wrong with her?

Breeze cuts in before she can answer. “You wanna sleepover at my house tonight?" he asks excitedly. They both grin at each other widely. I bite my lip to keep myself from sneering.

'Stop leading her on,' I want to say. 'You know what you’re doing. Stop making her like you when you have someone you like.'

I don’t want Arcadia to get hurt. Yet at the same time...I sort of do.

Is it terrible that I want Breeze to break Arcadia's heart? Maybe, just maybe, she'll run to the guy that's always been there for her.

=================================

Our first choir class was a disaster. Pandora was in charge of placement, so she decided when section everyone would go in.

When it was our row's turn, I pointed at Arcadia, and mouthed as clearly as I could, 'Next to her, next to HER.' Pandora grins and gives me a thumbs-up. I sigh in relief. It's hard to tell with Pandora, but sometimes she really comes through—

"Arcadia, front Soprano! Eros, back Baritone!"

—and sometimes she screws you over for life.

Pandora grins at me and gives a thumbs-up, looking very pleased. I attempt to rip my hair out. She takes her place next to me, skipping up the risers to back Soprano. She winks at me. I scowl at her. "I said put me next to Arcadia," I hiss at her.

"I know," Panda sing-songs, giggling. Suddenly, her usual innocent and carefree expression morphs into a smirk. Chills run down my spine. “You really think I’m going to let Arcadia get with a playboy like you?”

My jaw drops. Wait, wait, wait—so you mean all the times Pandora cock-blocked me, it's because she's self-deemed herself the Keep Arcadia Single crew!? I thought she was supporting me! I mean, geez, I’ve been friends with her just as long as Cady! Turns out she's been working against me this entire time.

Why that little—

"What about Breeze?" I hiss at her. He's playing her, too! Worse than me! And where’s the loyalty? She just met Breeze too!

She shrugs, indifferent to the matter. "He's safe. Doesn't even like her."

That's the WORST part!

I’m this close to snapping at her. Don’t act like you’re not jealous of Breeze too. Before he came along, you were Cady’s only best friend. Now there’s less Arcadia to go around. Why not work together with me to get rid of the squirt rather than working against me? But I bite my tongue. I’m not that mean. Besides, snapping at her will only make her want to separate Arcadia from me even more. Instead I press my lips together, my cheeks red with frustration for the rest of class as I take out my anger in deep bass notes.

I'm stuck staring at the back of Arcadia's head while we practice our Halloween pieces, while Pandora smiles proudly at her handiwork. After class, she slips off to Luella, Diamond, and Melody—likely to wreak even more havoc. Before Melody joins them, she turns to me and waves at me with a coy smile, winking flirtatiously. I nod back. When she turns back, I roll my eyes.

“Playboy”. Pssh.

I glance around the classroom nonchalantly until my eyes land on Arcadia. She’s sitting with Breeze on the floor, laughing hysterically at his poor excuse of an origami swan. I scoff quietly to myself. I could make an origami swan. But whatever. I’ll leave them alone for now. In any case, I made Cady laugh earlier with my Batman bit—

Screw that, Breeze left! This is my chance!

As I nonchalantly whistle and inch my way towards her from across the room, Arcadia is eerily focused on her green origami dragon. It brings back memories. Back in elementary school, Cady was obsessed with finding out how to fold an origami heart. When she finally made one, and decided to give it me, I almost fainted on the spot.

"Eros, look, look! I made it! Doesn't it look pretty?"

"Yeah, it's cute."

"Thanks for helping me! Here, you can have my heart!"

I come up behind her, closing my hands over her eyes. I lean into her ear, whisper-singing, "Guess who?"

"Someone ordering a double-decker knuckle sandwich?" she says in mock excitement. Or maybe real excitement. I can't tell anymore. Why isn't she cute like before? Ten year old-Cady used to do everything together. We were inseparable. I was all she had. Now she doesn't need me anymore. It's...It's not fair.

I can only the fill the empty space where Breeze was, hoping he doesn't come back.

"You're mean," I whine.

"Tell it to your mom."

Ah. Such a lady.

"Why do you always appear when Breeze disappears?"

Because it's the only time I get to be alone with you.

"Because needy girls need constant companionship."

Welp, that came out wrong. Why can’t I ever say it when it counts? A sharp paper edge collides with my forehead. The origami dragon with the poor smashed snout flutters to the ground.

"I think it bit me!" I whine.

"That's what you get, freak." She sticks her tongue out. I return the favor.

How come her and Breeze always have so much fun, and whenever I come over, the air is as thick as cheese?

I huff up my curly bangs, sighing. "Before you attacked me, I was about to ask you if—"

Surely I can ask her out to the movies, right? She can't hate me for not wanting to see Insidious 2 alone. I may not be Cady’s only choice anymore, but Cady can’t ignore a person in need. It’s in her nature.

If only she knew how much I needed her.

"Emergency!"

My eyes travel over Arcadia's shoulder, to see an ice sculpture on fire. Pandora giggles innocently. "Oop...sies?"

No way that was an accident. Even Little Miss Bulddozer couldn't have caused a disaster on this scale without being deliberate about it. I glare pointedly at Pandora while Arcadia cleans up her mess. Her face contorts into that same cocky smirk from when she purposely separated me and Cady before. And once again, I shiver. Since when did Pandora get so scary? Like, in a malicious way, and not just the fear you naturally have of stupid, powerful things?

I bolt to the black curtains, planning for another classic Batman revenge.

____________________________________________

Chapter 4: My Queen

Jelly War Chess is usually fun. But now that I found out that Pandora is determined to ruin my love life, her attempts are rather obvious.

"King to B-9!" she shouts gleefully.

Utterly bored, I yawn as I step forward—right across from Dax, one of Arcadia's pawns. I barely have time to scream, "Pandora, you—!" before the cannon whirs, and I'm silenced with a mouthful of seedy strawberry jam.

The game ends, and my bitterness gets the best of me. I decide to offer my insightful perspective of how the world would be like if Arcadia was British queen overlord of all that the light touches. I quickly pipe up in response to Ms. Rosetta’s theoretical question, “We'd all be slaves under Ari's tyrannical rule?”

She just rolls her eyes at me. I guess she didn’t appreciate my speech.

Wow Eros, such a charmer. Comparing your childhood crush to Scar. Wonder why she isn't dating you yet, man?

Ms. Rosetta, aka the mad scientist, sends us off to change, and I'm relieved that I can finally escape from Panda’s watchful eyes and condescending smirk. But before the thought can even fully form, Pandora tackles me, covering herself in jelly. The look in her eyes had a clear message: I'm watching you now.

Panda skips next to me on the way to the locker rooms, looking quite prideful for a person for someone who purposely covered herself in Jelly.

"I bet you want to be her king, huh?"

"Shut up."

The trip is mostly silent, except for Pandora humming It's a Small World's chorus over and over. She knows I can't stand that song. Its like she exists solely to antagonize me.

"I'm a nice guy, you know?" I say loudly, clenching my fists. Pandora isn't fazed at all by my apparent fury—then again, when has she ever been fazed by anything? “Maybe,” she concedes, and I start to sigh with relief. At least she finally realizes we’re on the same si—

“But you've gotta prove yourself first,” she continues. She simply shrugs at my incredulous look. “You need to show that you’re not a playboy anymore.”

“You know I’m not, Pandora!” I protest, my face red with frustration. I get the strange urge to stomp my foot like a child having a tantrum. Why doesn’t she understand? “I stopped back in middle school,” I add in a mutter.

“I know,” she says calmly. My anger boils up even more. My face turns a deep shade of scarlet. “Then why—?”

“But does Arcadia know?”

I suddenly stop in my tracks. My mouth hangs open, unable to form a coherent response that would prove her wrong. I-I mean...I would hope so.

Pandora just sighs. She suddenly looks a lot like Arcadia. Since when did Panda get so...mature? Maybe Arcadia really did rub off on her. “Her life doesn’t revolve around you. At least, not anymore,” she says gently. I nod pitifully, feeling like a kid getting scolded.

“I know,” I mumble.

“You don’t need to prove yourself to me, Eros. But Arcadia...she doesn’t have time to constantly pay attention to you. She’s too busy solving everybody else’s problems.” Pandora just smiles at me sadly. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Pandora look sad, let alone while smiling. She must be serious.

“She won’t know you’ve changed unless you show her.”

=================================

I run my fingers over the chains over Arcadia's bike, picking at this chain or this-here loop. In mere seconds the chains tremble, then sink back into the ground. Bingo. I wheel the moped manually back to the curb, working on untying my penny board from the back wheel of the moped. Still purple. I wonder if she noticed. Then again, I’ve never told her.

Maybe Pandora’s right. Maybe I just need to be better at showing Arcadia how much I care.

I stare out over the crowd, and fortunately it doesn't take long to spot them. They're in a position that I can't even...describe. Arcadia's got a foot on Breeze's and a hand over his mouth, and Breeze has got his hand in Arcadia's hair, and a foot on Arcadia's. Are they dancing? Or fighting? I can't tell. At least they aren't flirting like usual.

"Where's Little Lu?" Arcadia asks when they run over. "Can't come," Pandora replies. "Lu isn't coming?" Breeze mumbles dejectedly. His eyes downcast towards the floor in disappointment. It makes me go insane to see him acting all lovey-dovey with Lu right in front of Arcadia. How blind is he?

"You don't have to be that sad," I mutter angrily. Breeze quickly paints on a smile. "R-Right. It's no big deal."

Liar.

I run back to the bike racks for my purple bike—and yes, before you can say anything, I bought the bike in fourth grade. There, are you happy?

I carry the bike in tow, all the way back to the curb, panting for breath. By the time I get back, I’m greeted by a disturbing sight—Breeze sleeping peacefully on Arcadia's back. She murmurs to him softly, brushing his bangs away.

Stop leading her on, I want to scream. I know you like Lu.

It's just not fair.

================================

I saw him, that little pink, smiling when he was hugging Arcadia, acting all asleep on the brick road. I'll never be able to stand this kid, will I? At least Arcadia looks like she's about to pop a fuse herself.

"Wake up Sleeping Ugly."

I secretly grin to myself.

Breeze stumbles off the moped when he sees Arcadia's glare, bright orange flushing across his face. "S-S-Sorry!"

"Liar," I sing to myself as I head inside the Cafe. Pandora giggles at me, looking all happy-go-lucky over the rainbow. At least she’s back to normal—and not being uncharacteristically terrifying anymore.

Breeze sneezes out fairy dust. Arcadia brushes the dust off his bangs, giggling and smiling in that kind way I never get to see.

"Ready to order, or are you going to keep staring at Breeze?" I snap.

Arcadia gets all huffy at me, but when she finishes her mini temper tantrum, she just...stares at me. It's strangely piercing. Though, then again, most of her stares are. She just stares at me like a puzzle she's trying to pick apart. I'd usually do anything so that she'd stare at me like this. But this particular stare feels like she's trying to pull my brain apart and prod in there. I quickly turn my attention to ordering before she does some type of voodoo magic on me.

After I finish, she loops her arm with Breeze and walks up to the counter. My eyebrows raise of their own accord. "Forget your wallet, ignoramus?" Whenever I get nervous, I just get all bratty. I don't know why. I've been like that forever. Arcadia just laughs it off. But I can't help feeling like a lot'd be different if I bit my tongue once in a while.

"I'm treating her," Breeze says simply.

I stare at them questioningly for as long as I can, hoping I can perform the same mind trick Arcadia did on me. 'Why are you guys so close?' I project onto them with all my focus. 'Why can't I be more like you?'

It's a terrible thought to have. It may just prove how stuck-up and cocky I am because it's so hard to say, but...

I'm jealous of Breeze Legend.

I've been playing second fiddle to him since even before I met Arcadia, and I didn’t even know it. I've been trying to suck up to her since the moment she smiled at me, but he swooped in and stole her heart in seconds. It's not fair. Or maybe I'm the one who's not being fair. I don't know anymore.

To her credit, Pandora smiles at me sympathetically as I sit down in the booth. She stares at her half-empty bottle of Unicorn juice, spinning it idly by the cap. It sorta scares me when she goes to this far-away place. She's so much smarter than she lets on. I guess that's why Arcadia chose her as her friend. Cady's always been good at picking people apart to their bare core.

Maybe that's why I feel so weirdly vulnerable around Arcadia. I can put on a facade around anyone else, but the moment those golden eyes land on me, she strips me of all my layers and sees me for who I really am. Honestly, she’s probably the only one that does. My charm effect has never worked on her, so it doesn’t obscure her vision of me. It's why I can't hold her hand or hug her without feeling my heart pound and squeeze, when doing it with anyone else I'd feel numb. Everything I do with her feels so...real.

I like Arcadia because I know that she’s the only person who could ever really like me, the bratty kid who hides his emotions behind a charming facade. Everyone else just falls for the charm—most of the time anyway.

"You really should be nicer to her," Pandora says wistfully. Even though she’s just staring absent-mindedly out the window, somehow I can tell she’s talking to me. "It's hard on her when you act superior. You know how it is with her."

"I know," I mumble back. Pandora always says it like it is. I (reluctantly) have to respect her for it. It may not seem like it, but Arcadia’s too nice to tell me off. She’ll just keep putting up with me no matter how horrible I act towards her. Pandora’s the only one that’s willing to tell it to me straight; put my behavior into perspective so that I can actually change. I used to flirt with girls all the time, vainly hoping that it might make Arcadia jealous so that she would turn my way. Yet, to me dismay, it only felt like she was getting more distant from me. Pandora was the one to finally snap me back to me senses—she told me that Arcadia would never like me if I was a playboy.

She walked up to me while I had my arm around Joan Axels during lunch period, lollipop in mouth, and told me straight to my face, “If you keep hanging around other girls, Arcadia will think you don’t need her anymore. Is that what you want?”

I still remember the thump of her Pegasus wing hightops on the cement as she walked away. The way it felt when the color drained from my face. The chill that went down my spine from her blunt words. Honestly, the thought had never occurred it to me. But now that it did—it terrified me. So much so that I swore off flirting with other girls as soon as we went into high school. I thought that would be enough.

"I just want her to look up to me,” I mutter, kicking the support pole of the table.

Then Pandora said the smartest words that I think she’s ever uttered—the words that, honestly, probably changed my life:

“Maybe you can just see eye-to-eye? She likes you best when you guys just...level."

I’ve always wanted to protect Arcadia. I just wanted my short little shrimp of a friend to come to me when she had problems, hell, run crying to me if she needed to; instead of always just dealing with things by herself. I thought that if I raised myself a level above her, she’d want to rely on me.

The same level...huh. I’ve never thought about it that way. Pandora really does see the world differently—and maybe it’s not so bad.

=================================

"Why am I always sitting with you two?"

Because we're fighting over you.

"Because you're needy." Me and Breeze stare at each other incredulously. It's weird grinning with my rival. But it feels good not to be focused on Arcadia all the time—

Oh, who am I kidding? I'd die if I didn't think of Arcadia all the time. I'm so stupid. I'm always wondering what she's doing, what face she's making, what she's thinking wether or not I'm with her. Breeze is my friend, no matter how much I try to hate him. It's hard to hate a guy that doesn't hate you back.

I high-five Breeze, laughing.

Wait, wait a second. If he said the exact same thing as me, does that mean he was thinking the same thing t—

SMACK!

I cradle the handprint on my bright red cheek, wincing. "What the heck?" Arcadia's got a freaking firm hand. She can barely lift a grocery bag of pizza rolls, but she can slap you like you just got hit with a paintball from point-blank range.

While Arcadia lectures us whimpering boys about how we're naughty, Pandora is practically rolling from laughter. I glare at her. She holds a Victory sign at me, her face still flushed from giggling so hard.

I don't know why I'm always the only one who notices this stuff. Maybe I have a radar for Arcadia-Trouble. But for some reason, I notice in a split second the weird way Breeze gazes at Arcadia, sad and wistful—right before he starts to lean on her shoulder.

"No PDA!" I quickly shout. I try to act embarrassed, like I didn’t want them to transfer forties, but it was mostly me instinctively trying to keep them apart. How is Breeze so freaking confusing? One second he's fawning over Rainbow-Lu, the next he's making a move on Arcadia. Make up your mind! God, you’re acting like me back in seventh grade!

To my surprise, Arcadia backs me up on this one. She turns to Breeze and juts a finger towards me. I try not to look as smug as I feel. “What he said. I thought you slept on the moped, dork."

Breeze just pouts. God, you don’t know how much I wish I could just punch him in those pretty boys lips of his—is this how Breeze feels about me? Huh. Interesting.

“The yellow brick ruined my nap time,” he blurts out, too busy whining to realize that he just let it slip that he wasn’t actually sleeping.

Arcadia pulls on his ear, fuming. “Idiot,” she says with a roll of her eyes. I silently egg on their fight. Who’s the playboy now? How does it feel to be in my position?

“Owie,” he coos, rubbing his ear with a pout. I nearly scoff out loud. The cutesie act’s not gonna work on Arcadia once she’s pissed. Go on, tell him off so more

To my extreme dismay, however, Arcadia immediately laughs. My heart sinks like a lead anchor in shallow water. "Fine. You can stay on my shoulder, but I'm buying a cake-pop after this."

Are you kidding me? I a week’s probation (silent treatment) for hugging Arcadia without permission, and all Breeze gets is a stern warning?

How come he can get as close to the fire as he wants, but I only get burned?

Arcadia reaches over and gently brushes away his bangs. My heart somehow manages to sink even deeper into the dark pit in my stomach. Her eyes look so tender. How come she only shows that side of herself to Breeze, when in comparison to me and her, they barely know each other? Breeze smiles a bit to himself when Arcadia turns away, turning that same stupid shade of orange that he did around Luella. I have the nearly impossible-to-resist urge to flick him on the head, hard.

"You're like an old married couple," I laugh, making kissy faces. I want her to get embarrassed and push him away. But she just glares at me and blows sparkles in my face. Like I was intruding on them.

How come I'm the one left out? I was supposed to be the only guy that could take care of you.

"Ooh, ooh, I think the food is coming!"

It's just not fair.

____________________________________________

Chapter 5: When You Loved Me

"Dragon fire peppers. They're awesome."

They taste like burnt charcoal from the dragon of hell.

"Okay, a little spicy," I choke out, forcing a smile onto my face. "But it's good."

I'd do anything to spit this out and drown my tongue in Rad Fizzie. But Arcadia is smiling at me all proudly and happy. We've never really seen eye to eye in our interests. Is a little white lie so bad to try to relate to the girl you like?

Arcadia ends up scolding Breeze for teasing her about her favorite peppers. I smile a bit to myself.

Should’ve took the easy route like me, kid. Pssh. Amateur.

Immediately after, Breeze bites into his burger and immediately scowls. He must’ve gotten a bad batch. I hope no one sees the grin on my face. My day just keeps getting better and better.

Is it a little evil to delight in the suffering of my crush’s best friend? Maybe. But nobody ever said love was fair.

Arcadia bites into her salad and nearly takes a spit take. "Rad raisins," she hacks. "God, I hate Rad raisins." She slams her fist on the table and curses, attempting to gag out the raisin pulp from the back of her throat. It's a weird thing to say, but it's just...funny. It's a very much needed dose of nostalgia. We practically became friends because of our differences of opinion over a box of raisins. I never really had any good friends. Most guys either hated me or leeched off my popularity. Girls...well, you see the issue there. But Arcadia was the first girl who absolutely, positively didn't like me. Rather than choking down my weird interests, she spit them out.

And I positively loved her for it.

I take another bite out of my sandwich.

It feels like someone dropped a freshly-lit match down my throat. I spit out the remains, but they burn to ashes in the ring of flames that bursts out of my mouth.

Nope, never mind. Damn white lies. This is karma for not being myself.

I perform therapy on myself with the rad raisins from Arcadia's untouched salad. The cold fizz and bittersweet-ness soothes the smoky burns in my mouth.

Bitter, but so sweet. They look pretty dull on the outside, but they're burst-to-full of sweetness. They're spontaneous, and unlike anything else, and it leaves a good taste in your mouth.

Arcadia reminds me of rad raisins. Of course, I'd never tell her that. She'd beat me to a pulp.

"Ugh, it's strawberry ice cream!"

"Why are you so against good things?" Ten-year old Eros sighs, shaking his head at his pitiful friend. She sneaks away from her sisters to get ice cream with him, despite the fact that they wreak havoc on her digestive system, and then she complains about the whole situation. What the hell is a guy supposed to do?

"Ice cream is too good for strawberries, so it tries to be something it's not," she says matter-of-factly, taking a big lick from her artificially-flavored pink scoop. It brings a fresh scowl to her face. "I'd love if it was just itself."

"You know, you're oddly introspective about ice cream."

"Thanks, best friend."

"I told you to stop calling me best friend."

"*BEST FRIEND FOREVER*."

"Oh my god."

I pick the peppers out of my sandwich before I take any more bites. It's still impossibly spicy, but at least it melted the cheese.

"You basically just kissed Breeze. Gross much?" I tease her on the outside, but on the inside I'm gagging with jealousy (is that a thing? Well, I'm doing it.) In fifth grade, Arcadia mixed up our sandwiches during lunchtime and took a bite out of my half-eaten PB&J. When I told her, she almost vomited on the spot.

"If I had a penny for every time I've done something gross for Breeze, I'd have enough for my own ice cream sundae machine."

I'd be jealous, but somehow this feels too gross to be jealous about.

Nevertheless, I find myself glaring at her throughout the entirety of her eating her sundae, bitterly remembering the Sandwich Incident. Arcadia just stares back at me with a goofily raised eyebrow the entire time. I reluctantly muffle my snicker into my grilled cheese, and she grins at me triumphantly. It's hard to be angry at her when she's purposely trying to make me laugh like this. God, does she have to be so adorable while I’m plotting revenge?

Arcadia starts to make a random survey of our favorite ice cream. When it comes to me, the first memory of ice cream I can think of is when Arcadia took me to Baskin Robbins in fourth grade. We shared a gigantic scoop of their most popular flavor, and I couldn't stop blushing the entire time—even though we were both using spoons.

"Neapolitan, Caprese style,” I say automatically, the memory escaping me in the form of words before I can even think about them.

Arcadia's gaze pauses me on for the briefest second. And I swear, I see something glint in her eyes that means she remembers it, too. My stomach does a little jump-flip from happiness.

"Your treat?" Breeze says hopefully, poking Arcadia. "Eh? Eh?"

"Sure. If I wrap my arms around you and completely invade your space."

Not a bad idea.

I lean over and I wrap my arms right around her waist. "Treat you next time," I say with a cheery grin. Arcadia glares at me with a bright red face, and I brace myself for a black eye. Yet miraculously, I'm saved by the most unexpected of allies. Ms. Ruined My Love Life herself scurries under the table and grabs Arcadia's leg, squealing for joy. She does a small salute to me while Arcadia is occupied scolding Breeze for being annoying.

Yup. This day is pretty great.

"Love ya guys," she says, part sighing and part laughing. Admittedly, I like seeing her getting riled up. But Her relaxed smile isn't so bad, either.

"Love ya, too!" Pandora and Breeze both yell, giggling. I nuzzle a bit into Arcadia's side, her cinnamon-scented hair tickling my nose.

"Love ya, too, Cady," I murmur softly.

The only way this day could get better if if she really meant that for me.

____________________________________________

Chapter 6: Pandora’s Box

When we leave the Cafe, I stare in horror at the twenty voicemails left on my phone by Adonis. I forgot I didn't tell him I was going to the Cafe today.

He's going to murder me, bring me back to life, then murder me again.

Pandora claps me on the back as I hop on my bike. I stare inquisitively at her mysterious grin.

"You're not that bad, I've decided," she says matter-of-factly. "I'll support you a little bit. Just a little."

"Thanks Panda," I say gratefully. Maybe I won't have to bring pepper-spray to school anymore. Pandora is viciously protective...

"I'll still murder you if you hurt Arcadia." Then she just giggles, sending shivers down my spine. I nod, ashen-face, as I quickly make my way down the horrible yellow brick road.

I wonder what she means by 'hurt.'

The way Pandora says it, it's like I've been doing it all along...

=================================

Arcadia completely ignores me the entire day. Her hair's dyed like a rainbow and did in curls. She looks dazzling. Like she's trying to impress someone. But that's the least aggravating part. She's been with Breeze the entire day—helping him get with Lu. She's been pushing them together in every possible way they can.

I wonder why Pandora thinks I'm the one hurting Arcadia when the one who's clearly doing it is Breeze? Arcadia's always trying to push people where they're happiest, even when she'd rather they stay. Breeze is just too dense to see why Arcadia cares for him so much.

And the day only got worse. When I glanced over at Arcadia during Science Class, she was in tears. She was barely keeping it together. She looked heartbroken while Lu and Breeze worked together on their Science project, laughing happily. She kept glancing over at Breeze, then turning away so she could wipe away her tears. My fist clenched tighter and tighter the more I watched her fall apart, all while Breeze was none the wiser. Too busy off in Luella land while his “best friend” gets her heart stomped on by his reckless actions. If Ms. Sparrow wasn't watching me like a hawk, I would've beaned Breeze in the back of the head with a test tube full of chemicals.

I immediately make a bee-line towards Arcadia after class to comfort her, but the dense guy beats me to it. He asks what's wrong, of course, because he's just that stupid. I can’t hear what they’re saying from this distance—because I may or may not be watching them from behind one of the planters. (What? I’m a curious guy.)

Arcadia responds, still wiping away tears, and Breeze goes into shock. He mumbles something back, then he hugs her tightly with a sad look in his eyes. I didn't seem them for the rest of the day after that.

I wonder if she confessed.

I wonder if Breeze rejected her.

I wonder if it makes me a horrible person that I hope that he did.

All Breeze ever does is break Arcadia's heart. How could he possibly be better for her than me?

"If it was me," I mumble, staring at the back of her head, "I'd never let you cry. I'd make you smile."

Choose the guy who’s loved you ever since he met you. Not the one that’s only hurt you and left.

=================================

Breeze pulls Arcadia away between each class before I can even say a single word to her. Arcadia just drags her feet as she follows him, looking helpless and dejected. It breaks my heart to see her like this. Why can't you just let me have her? I want to scream. You’ve done enough. Stop clinging to her when all you do is hurt her.

You know that she’s hurting. Stop making her be the one that has to comfort you all the time.

I run to the curb as fast as I can, my lungs gasping for air all the while as my heart beats on the side of my waist in protest. Damn our class schedules—why do they have to be together last period, in a different class that’s all the way across the campus from mine? By the time I get there, Arcadia’s distinct purple moped is gone. Breeze took her. My fist is clenched white all the way home.

I don't know how many hours I've been staring at my phone, my stomach churning, thumb hovering over the green Call button.

Just call her. Just call her.

If you don’t do it now, it’ll already be too late.

If Breeze rejected her, then this is your chance.

"Hey," Arcadia murmurs as soon as she answers. She sounds really tired. I wonder if she's still been crying the whole way home.

"Hey," I murmur back. I gulp hard, and I open my mouth. But nothing comes out. I stifle all the words that want to spill out, 'Love me instead' and 'I'll comfort you.' Instead, I choke out the safe answer. "Is Breeze okay? What happened?"

I couldn't care less what happens to that blonde playboy. But I know Arcadia cares for him, and it's easier this way. I don't want to weigh her down even more. She's so much more fragile than she lets on, and now more than ever.

"He's okay," she mutters. "Everything's a little strange right now...but it's okay." She sounds really sad. There's something crackling in the background, like a heavy breath. I wonder if she's with anyone else right now.

Love me instead of him.

"Can I get an explanation?" I say slowly, trying to remain calm. Maybe tell me why Breeze made you follow him around all day when you were clearly heartbroken over something he and Luella did?

She goes silent. All I can hear is the sound of two pairs of breaths. Maybe she's with one of her sisters. Probably.

"Heh," she chuckles half-heartedly. "School crushes are pretty weird, right? Turns out Lu liked someone else all along. It broke Breeze's heart."

I freeze for a moment. Is she really telling the truth? Or is she too embarrassed to tell me what really happened?

Choose me over him.

"God, I can't believe it." I really can't. "Breeze is probably really hurting right now." I don't care. Maybe he is, maybe he's isn't.

"Yeah, he is," she says, hardly above a whisper.

Is he the one hurting, or is it really you covering for him?

"But he's okay now, right?"

You deserve better.

"Yeah, everything's alright," she says, a little louder than before.

I'm better.

I take the deepest breath I've ever taken. If I don't tell her now, I might never say it. Wether or not she's telling the truth, I don't want her to be thinking about Breeze right now. I don't want her to keep getting hurt. I want her thinking about me all the time, just like I think about her.

"Look, I might as well tell you now. So don't hate me for it, alright?"

Think about the one who cares about you.

"Um, okay."

Not him. Me.

I can barely breathe. How can this be so hard? It's just a few words. But I feel like they're glued to the inside of my throat, blocking my airway. I get a hot flash. I feel like fainting.

Please...just choose me.

"You looked cool today," I stammer. I almost hang-up from embarrassment right then and there. Not just cool. She looked so pretty I could hardly stand it. "I mean, you always look cool." Cool is my way of saying 'beautiful', for god's sake. "I know it's probably weird, and you don't have to say anything about it—" I don't care if she doesn't respond to me. I just want her to think about me. "—but I like you. Like like. A lot."

I freeze up a second time. How do I even finish this? How do you stop a level ten train wreck disaster?

"That's all, that's cool. I'll see you tomorrow."

Sigh. I guess that's one way.

I throw my phone across the bed, feeling my chest for my rapid heartbeat and breathing heavily. I should feel a little better. I guess I do. But that pit in my stomach is still there.

In the end, I couldn't even be as honest as I wanted to be. Because my feelings go so much farther than 'like,' Arcadia Infinity.

____________________________________________

Chapter 7: Cupid Family

"Adonis, how do you impress girls?"

His jaw drops, which doesn't make the pit of nervousness in my stomach get any smaller. My hands are trembling, and I feel like flesh-eating butterflies have nested in my stomach. I hate admitting the most awful truth in my life like this, but...

Adonis is my older brother. And he's basically the better version of me...in every way.

Our semi-dark skin and curly brown locks are the same. Same chocolate jewel eyes, same pearly white teeth. But everything about him is matured and refined, everything I'm not. His skin is a tinge darker, giving him the appearance of smooth coco. My eyes have the pull of a electric magnet. His is the center of the earth. His features are more chiseled, and his seductive qualities are trained and natural. I hate being compared to him.

I hate asking for his help even more.

"I didn't know you had a crush," he sings triumphantly, as if he's won something. A playboy like him probably views love as a weakness. I instinctively glare at him.

"Who's the lucky girl?" he sings, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. I reluctantly show him the screensaver on my phone, from when I traded Cady a super rare triple fudge brownie from my lunch for a license to take selfies with her. Pictures of Arcadia I can look at anywhere is much sweeter than that brownie ever could’ve been.

And I realize that what I just said sounds super stalkerish, so I'm just gonna shut up now.

"Oh, that makes sense."

I stop short at such a blunt, dry comment coming from Adonis's mouth. "What's that supposed to mean?" Adonis takes a bite out of his granola bar and leans on his bedroom door frame. If I glance through the gaps of his body, I can see the wasteland of red flannel he calls his bedroom.

"That girl's got crazy magic in her DNA man," Adonis says, laughing. "It's no wonder she can resist our pull."

"How'd you know she could do that?" I ask suspiciously. Does stalker-ish tendencies run in the family? Has he looked in my diary (that doesn’t exist)?

Adonis raises an eyebrow at me, and shrugs. "I don't know how, all I know is that they can. Her sister goes to my college. Delphi, I think. She’s show me pictures of her little sister—and she is easily ten times prettier than me."

That's the strangest sentence I've ever heard come out of a male's mouth. And Adonis' mouth too, for similar reasons.

"Seriously?" I still ask, because I find that hard to believe. Mostly that she could be so pretty that Adonis had to acknowledge her. Our family isn't big on admitting defeat to other people. Adonis nods largely. "Oh, crazy hot. Here, this is the picture of her and her sisters she sent me.” Adonis pulls out his own phone and scrolls through the pictures until he finds it.

All implications that my older brother has been trying to flirt with my crush’s older sister aside, I’m curious to see what Arcadia’s family looks like—especially now after seeing my brother’s reaction to them. I squint at the pixelated screen until the picture comes in focus.

Well, It's definitely a picture of Arcadia and her sisters. I've seen brief glances of her sisters when I’ve gone over to her house, but...woah. Individually, I couldn't see even the smallest semblance of familial relation to one another. I always theorized that they were actually step sisters. Even their skin tones and eye colors are different. But right next to each other, their similarities are suddenly clear as day—they could be triplets born on different days.

Delphi, the oldest I've heard from Cady, is at the very top, Amber, the middle, is next to her, and Arcadia's at the bottom. They're all holding peace signs and smiling. They seem to be at a park or something.

Delphi's got a head full of curled dark brown hair, with a single pink streak. Her blue eyes are sparkling so brightly they could battle Adonis's. No, they could battle the freaking sun. I have no idea what it is, but she's like...the female version of Adonis: so beautiful it's scary. Enough said. Amber is just as tall as Delphi, which is strange considering they're, like, five years apart. She's the classic freckly, cute, unobtainable green-eyed beauty you see in make-up commercials. Her green eyes are strangely icy. Arcadia's got the smallest smattering of freckles on her light-dark skin, and the smallest little smile crinkles underneath her bright golden eyes. She's not trying for attention. She's just plain cute.

Adonis pulls back his phone abruptly, startling me. "Don't drool on my screen," he chuckles. I rub my cheeks, hoping they aren't as red as they feel. In spite of what he just said, both me and Adonis continue staring at the screen. All of them have the same identical expressions, the same cool look in their eyes, like: I don't really care that much. Slightly sarcastic, but not superior. It's startling how similar their personalities must be—and how apparent that similarity is just from looking at a picture.

"You know, I've been thinking of asking Delphi out—"

"Please don't, Arcadia will probably hate me for life." I choose not to add that Arcadia hates the thought of her sisters dating a stupid handsome playboy with no real personality, which is basically an exact description of my brother.

Adonis rolls his eyes and pouts stubbornly; a trait we share, unfortunately. "Fine. But if you want a high caliber like the Infinity's, you're gonna need a big image change. Maybe we should raid mom's make-up drawer..."

"If you put a speck of make-up on me, you won't look so pretty anymore."

•

Is it creepy that I've been waiting for her to come to school for, like, thirty minutes? I suddenly feel really cautious with Arcadia now that I realize her area of influence is much larger than me...and possibly Breeze, I'm still not sure about him. I run my fingers through my newly straight locks. They're still warm from the straightener. I hope she likes it. Hopefully. Maybe. Wow, I feel like such a girl.

When Arcadia arrives through the gates on Breeze's back, laughing and squealing like there's no tomorrow, all my veins almost burst at the same time. I peek out from behind the pillar I've been hiding behind just in time to see Breeze kiss Arcadia on the cheek.

That flirting playboy jerk. That tears it.

I immediately stride out towards them, hoping I look confident. I ignore the people shouting and greeting me, and I focus completely on Arcadia. When Cady's eyes land on me, her eyes widen in a way I don't think I've ever seen on her face before, especially in reaction to me. Her cheeks flush red, and she waves shakily at me. I can hardly keep from jumping in the air and shouting, "Yes!"

Breeze's eyes land on me, which doesn't make me as happy. Something scary and devious glints in his eyes. He turns to Arcadia, says something, then starts kissing her cheek, over and over. I have half a mind to throttle him and throw him to the moon. To my credit, though, Arcadia is pushing him off.

I raise my eyebrows at them as I sit across from them. I clench and unclench my fists, forcing myself to be cool. I manage to only chew my lip, hard. "Are you guys, like, dating?" Somehow, I manage to avoid my usual nervous voice-cracks.

Breeze stares me right in the eyes.

"Yes."

Arcadia elbows him in the side, restarting my heart. "No, we aren't," she quickly says, smiling at me bashfully. Is the hair working? Holy crap.

Breeze wraps his arms around Arcadia's waist, pouting all flirtily. Me and Arcadia make identical sighs of aggravation. "Arcadia is mine, I won't let you have her," he says loudly, as if he's announcing his victory. My fists stay clenched, trembling with the unbearable temptation to break his nose.

Arcadia beats me to it. She grabs the collar of his shirt, glaring at him like hell. "You speak, you die."

Oh, how the tables have turned.

Breeze just grins. "Kiss me and I'll shut up."

"Or I could just rip off your lips and shut you up," I growl under my breath.

After punching Breeze onto his back, Arcadia turns back to me, and I quickly paint a sympathetic look on my face. "Is Breeze okay?"

Arcadia laughs, rolling those golden eyes. "He just doesn't understand that he won't have very long to live if he continues."

A snort slips out, and I laugh into the palm of my hand. Arcadia sort of chuckles and blushes red, her eyes glued to me. It's the greatest feeling,

When we go to sit at the cafeteria tables while we wait for the first period bell to ring, I sit across across from Arcadia so we can have direct eye contact. Breeze, however, immediately rests his head in Arcadia's lap. A flame of jealousy flares up in my chest. I should've thought of doing that.

Arcadia then pushes Breeze onto the floor.

Or, you know, maybe it's good he came up with it first. Though I can't say I didn't feel pretty awesome when Breeze cried out, "Yowch!"

Pandora skips over in her usual glittery self and sits next to me. She gives me a playful jab in the arm, which assures me I'm no longer on her watchdog list. I breath a quiet sigh of relief. Thank goodness. One less thing to worry about. I was starting to think that all this teenage stress would give me premature gray hairs. Or worse—wrinkles. "So, how's it going?" she sing-songs.

Breeze teleports himself back next to Arcadia, and smiles like a proud little child. "I've declared my undying love for Arcadia."

That's supposed be my line.

I cheer a little bit when Arcadia punches him in the stomach. Breeze just grins, hunched over in pain. "I still love you," he croaks.

Arcadia pleads Pandora, "He won't stop. Please, make it stop."

Yeah, make him stop, so I can start.

Breeze continues on his quest for love, shamelessly flirting with Arcadia as if I'm not there. Or maybe that's what he means to do. I can never tell with him—and that’s the part I hate so much.

Arcadia pleads me with her eyes, mouthing 'HELP ME' in all-caps. It's been so long she's actually asked me for help. Me. Eros. For help.

This is your chance, Cupid. Don’t mess it up.

I mutter a quiet, "Alright," and I stomp my way around the table. The plan slowly forms in my head as I go, so it's probably not the most reliable plan—but it's a plan nevertheless. I hook my arms under hers and I pull her out of the seat, and to my side of the table. She's surprisingly willing, and doesn't protest.

"Stop bothering her," I say pointedly to Breeze. He sticks his tongue out at me. He reminds me eerily of me all of a sudden. His eyes are burning with jealousy and rivalry, the same look in my eyes when he steals Arcadia away from me. I smirk back at him.

"Arcadia is mine." For once, I'm the winner.

Pandora giggles and starts pulling out her phone to videotape us. Arcadia moans in protest, though she makes no move to struggle out of my grip. I pull her into the seat beside me, rubbing my aching arms. Arcadia is staring straight at Breeze with wide, nervous eyes, anticipating his reaction.

I quickly push my fingers in between hers, lacing them together. Arcadia's attention shifts back to me. She squeaks in surprise, but her hand squeezes me back. Her hand is ice cold in contrast to my burning hot one. I squeeze it tighter in hopes to warm it up. But I don't really mind. After all, Cold Hands, Warm Heart.

When the trumpets sound, I pull her away as fast as I possibly can.

For once, she’s looking at only me. And I’m not going to give that up anytime soon.

•

I can feel Arcadia's stare burning into the back of my head althroughout English class. I still can't tell if that's a good thing or not.

I turn around, and I smile gently, winking. She usually just flames bright red and quickly bows her head down to her desk. It gives me a weird feeling of satisfaction that at least in some way, I have an effect on her.

"Alright, children!" Ms. Magok sings. "Get in reading partners for 'The Love Under The Moonlight.' Remember, think deeper!" She shoos us all off, and I quickly grab Arcadia's hand.

Arcadia swiftly punches herself in the arm.

I stare at her in a mix of incredulity, confusion, and shock. Arcadia winces and rubs her own arm, glaring up at me with tears in her eyes. "Why are you holding my hand, freak?" she snaps. I remain calm, refusing to let her sudden bad mood ruin my Cloud 9 High since this morning.

"I meant to pull you over to the corner so we could do partner reading discussion," I say coolly.

Arcadia glances balefully at the clock, then quickly whips her hand out of my mine. "Fine, sure whatever," she mutters, stomping to the corner. She sits down, arms crossed, and huffs like a child put in-time out. I calmly sit next to her, opening my book to the bookmark. I briefly notice she doesn't have one. That means we have to share. That means she'll have to stay close to me to read.

Yaaaaaay~

Arcadia stares at me with the most confusing glare. It's part longing, and part anger. Is she longing to kill me?

I read the first question out loud, prepared to do nothing. Arcadia always answers the questions while we're reading. Technically against the rules, but it means more time for us to talk and just cuddle up to her in the corner.

"C-Could we read that again?" Arcadia stammers softly.

I stare at her incredulously, hoping my jaw isn't resting on the floor. I mean, the fact that she isn't answering these before I even ask them is amazing. But I can't tell if she actually spaced out, or...

Is this just an excuse to read a romance book with me?

The very thought is stupidly impossible, but it fills my insides with a tingly feeling of excitement and glee. Ever since we started reading discussion, it's the few moments we have where we actually have fun with each other. Our usual books are serious dramas, comedy children stories, or stories that are just plain weird to read out loud. We each choose characters to act out, and we play the scene. Whenever we have to make a serious face, we burst out laughing. Of course, this game of ours excludes romance, seeing as Arcadia can't stand the thought of the genre.

It's so cliche! The girls never take action, the boys don't share their feelings, and they both get all whiny when problems come up. Gag me with a spoon!

I mean, Arcadia always tells it as it is—it's part of her charm. But, like...ouch.

I glance up at her warily as I slowly turn the pages in my book, waiting for her to start laughing. 'I can't believe you would fall for that noob! You want to make me vomit? Here, copy my answers.' But it never comes. She just occasionally darts her eyes to mine, nervous and fidgety.

"You hate it whenever we read this type of stuff in class," I say slowly. I know I probably shouldn't jinx it, but I don't want to get my hopes up either.

Arcadia blinks rapidly, as if she's about to be found out. "I-I don't hate it," she stammers quickly, avoiding my gaze. "It's an assignment, so we have to read it. Just read it the usual way. I'll be Alice, you be Zed."

My eyes practically bulge out my head.

This is happening? Wow, it's happening.

No matter how hard I try, I'm unable to restrain the giddy smile on my face. Arcadia stares at me with apparent confusion, but I'm soaring on Cloud 9.

Think of something sad.

She wants to read this with me!

Crying puppies.

Arcadia. Infinity. Reading. Romance. With me!

Like...anime characters dying.

There's a kiss scene!

Squeeeeeeee—!

I offer her one side of the book so we can both read, and I quickly clear my throat, hoping my mental giggles weren't audible. "Ready to start?" I murmur, hoping I sound calm.

"Um, yeah, sure."

I quickly skim the page for the passage we're supposed to read, biting my lip to stifle another giddy grin. I have to spend a few second mentally slapping myself so Arcadia doesn't think I'm a giggling idiot during this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I take a deep breath, and I begin to read. "Alicia looks so beautiful," I read softly.

Arcadia seems to pale slightly, and her grip on the book tightens. Does that mean I'm doing a good job? I bite my lip to hide a grin, and continue reading with the same tone.

"Standing there in the moonlight, waiting for me, all I can see is her and how wonderful she looks tonight," I read on, keeping my voice steady and soft. Arcadia gulps, hard. Her face is alternating in pale white and blotchy blushing pink. I don't think I've ever seen her this nervous. Maybe my charm effect is working on her.

I skim the narration, and I have to hold my breath so I don't smirk.

Zed stared deeply into Alicia's eyes, eyes burning into her soul. She lost all her breath at his intense gaze, lost in his sparkling irises.

I can pull that off, easy.

I muster as much Charm as there is in the depths of my soul, reaching deep inside me, and begin pushing it out through my irises. Then, I look straight into Arcadia's eyes. My area of influence is so bright I can barely see. The back of my eyes burn like they’re being melted with molten lava. It seems to work, and my heart rate speeds up exponentially. Arcadia's eyes widen and she stares straight back at me, unable to look away. Her ginger-spice skin flushes deep, rose red.

"What in earth's name are you doing?"

I think my eyes may just evaporate any second. I refuse to look away and relinquish control. Her gold eyes are gleaming, bright and shining like...golden doubloons covered in glitter.

God, I want to kiss her so bad.

"I thought I'd be better if I looked at you while I said it," I say slowly, boring my eyes into hers. I hope I'm not tearing up. I'm using every single bit of willpower in me. I'd have to say, it isn't enjoyable.

Arcadia presses her lips together in that adorable frustration of hers, almost prompting me to kiss her on the spot. She quickly tears her gaze away and onto the book. I almost collapse as my Charm Eyes shut off. It's like someone turned off a spotlight shining in my eyes. I blink rapidly, holding back tears and trying to see through the spots.

"Zed," she says flatly, deadpanning.

I attempt to gulp down a snicker, but it jumps back up and escapes. "Dude, that was so flat," I mutter at her. "Are you even trying?"

"I am," she says sarcastically, eyes still dead like a fish. She's trying to ward me off, isn't she? Not today, Infinity.

This is the year you give in.

"Can you please just try?" I plead. I focus the remaining bits of my strength into my gaze, flicking the spotlight back on. Arcadia's eyes flicker in between shades of gold, affected by my pull. Her eyes are like a kaleidoscope of every shade of gold and sunshine, crumbling like cookie bits under my drilling gaze.

"Fine," she suddenly blurts. I grin. Looks like I finally got through to her.

•

"Zed."

It proves just how weak I am when I almost faint. I didn't even think Arcadia was capable of making a soft voice. She can't really speak 'softly.' Most of her whispers are hisses, and her mutters are grating. So excuse me for being surprised.

"You look beautiful." I direct my charm directly in my mouth, pushing it out with every breath in my words. Part of me wonders if I'm, like, breathing out sparkles. Arcadia just gulps and clears her throat, narrowing her gaze onto the book. Looks like she’s struggling to resist. I smile to myself.

I quickly read the narration. The book almost slips out of my palm and I have to clench the page tightly.

Zed walks closer and closer to Alice until they're not nearly as far apart as they should be. Mere inches away, and yet their hearts won't stop pounding.

Hey, gotta make it realistic, right?

I scoot as close as I can to Arcadia. Her shoulder presses to my arm. The air around us is unbreathable-y tense. It's thick, and my palms are clammy. My heart is beating faster than it ever has. Our reading isn't all laughs and jokes anymore, faking serious expressions. It feels like a competition, and the winner makes the other fall hard.

I glance down at Cady, staring down at the book with her golden-glittery focused eyes. I forgot just how much shorter than me she is. I suppose her dominant personality has simply given the illusion that we’ve been the same height all these years. Yet, now more than ever, I'm starkly aware that Arcadia is a girl. Not a classmate, childhood friends, or chance crush. She's a girl, and she's close to me.

I’ve never felt like this before.

"You look even cuter up close," I blurt without thinking, yet somehow meaning every single syllable.

Arcadia stares up at me—all two inches of leverage—through the curtain of her rainbowish-brunette bangs. Her eyes are still glittery and kaleidoscope-y, but this time they're pulling me in. I can't look away. I can hardly swallow through the tight airway called my throat. Arcadia raises up her side of the book to cover her face. Well, everything but her adorable little bunny eyes, staring up at me stubbornly. I want to take a picture and make this my wallpaper. I wonder if that brownie-selfie license is still valid.

Her eyes flicker down for half a second, just long enough to read the next line of dialogue. Of course, I didn't realize that until after she said (read):

"D-Don't say things l-like that. You're going to make me want you, and then there's no going back."

My heart stops for a few brief seconds, my eyes wide, mouth open but nothing coming out. Then Arcadia's soft and bashful gaze shifts to an expectant glare. 'Well?' it seems to say. 'Keep reading.'

Ah, right. This is a book.

Just a book....

Zed leans so close their breath mingles, brushing away Alicia's golden hair from her flawless skin. His eyes maintain a steely gaze with hers, refusing to break their breathtaking gaze. "Alicia," Zed whispers, hardly above a breath. She shudders and exhales shakily. "I've fallen in love with you even harder."

I take a deep breath, pushing the Charm into the air around me. My heart breaking my ribcage, I slowly lean down so my face is an inch and a half away from hers. I reach out a surprisingly steady hand, and I brush the stray hairs away from her eyes. All the better to see her nervous gaze, eyes fluttering, but still looking into mine. I've never seen her this red. I almost grin. Everything about her makes me go absolutely crazy at every second. I'm too close for comfort, but I'm also too comfortable to move away.

My mouth begins to speak on its own, without any permission from my brain.

"You can't keep making me fall in love with you like this," I mutter, staring right into her eyes. It's not fair. Not fair that I love her more than she'll ever love me. "I'll fall in love with you even harder."

Arcadia gulps, hard. She's frozen for what seems like five-ever, just staring back at me. 'Stop it,' I want to say. 'Stop staring into my eyes all innocent like you don't know what you do to me. Otherwise I'll kiss you.'

My face gravitates just half an inch closer to hers. I don't know how I haven't passed out from lack of oxygen, or had a heart attack, or just plain died from happiness. A stray draft from the air conditioner blows a whiff of her hair towards me. Cinnamon. Of course, cinnamon. Spicy and sweet—just like her.

Arcadia suddenly directs her gaze away from the book and back up to me: they struggle to stare right into mine, darty and nervous. Her face closes even more of the brief space in between us. Just a centimeter. A hair-breadth's away from a kiss.

Cherry lip balm. Did you wear that because you knew cherries were my favorite, or are you naturally perfect for me?

My even, steady breathing gradually shallows, until I'm barely breathing. It's true. Our breaths really do mingle. Crest Cinnamon toothpaste. God, just kill me so I can die happy.

She bites her lip, blocking any kisses I could've sprung on her. I mentally curse. It's eerily silent, as if everyone else in the room is holding their breath except us.

"Why don't you just tell me you're in love with me? I'm in love with you. It's only fair that you tell me, too,” she says, with an odd look of desperation in her eyes. My heart nearly stops. My heart rate now slowed, each and every individual beat echoes in my ears.

You're so stupid. I've been telling you I love you under my breath for the past five years. I want to tell her—I gotta tell her.

Stupid, beautiful little Cady,

"I lov—"

"That was beautiful!" Ms. Magok suddenly squeals, clapping her hands. The rest of the class whistles and claps, effectively breaking me and Arcadia out of our trances. I sheepishly smile.

I can't freaking believe I forgot we were in a public space.

Ms. Magok raves on and on about how great we were, Romeo, Juliet, blah, blah, blah. But I'm mostly just mentally punching myself for almost confessing to her in front of everyone. I would've died.

And yet I barely regret it all. That was the best thing that's ever happened to me.

Arcadia, red to the tips of her ears, quickly files to her desk. She picks up her pencil, scribbles down some answers, and rests her head in her arms. I sit down in my desk, straddling it backwards to face her. The moment she looks up, she looks up at my grinning face.

"Hi there, cutie," I sing-song.

"Don't call me that," she mutters, back to her usual grating self. I lean down into her face, smirking. "Come on, don't act that wasn't what you wanted to happen," I coo teasingly.

Arcadia puffs her red cheeks in frustration. "It wasn't what I wanted to happen!" she insists. "I didn't read it all because I was too busy s—" she suddenly stops. Cady purses her lips, clearly not planning to continue her fragmented sentence.

I cock my eyebrow up expectantly. "Too busy...?" I inquire.

S....lowly falling in love with me?

Arcadia opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. She grasps for straws, brow furrowed in frustration.

"Shut up," she says finally, sniffing.

"Aww," I coo. Cute little Arcadia's all embarrassed. "You know, I woulda kissed you if you just said so." I wink.

"There was no kiss in the scene, idiot."

I blank, as if someone just slapped me back into reality. "Huh?" I ask stupidly. Arcadia glares at me coldly, "You leaned in a bit too close on that last part."

The book.

The freaking book!

I started going by own script in that second half. I'm so stupid! I almost bury my head in my hands to groan at my own stupidity. I was impossibly lucky she didn't punch me halfway through.

But wether or not she wants to admit it, it was real for her, too. Arcadia's not exactly a drama student. She can't fake blushes and nervousness.

I turn back into my own chair, smiling.

"You smell like cinnamon," I murmur,

"Did you say something?"

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

•

My good mood was sky high all day. I couldn't stop grinning no matter how hard I tried. I'd try to pinch my cheeks and imagine terrible, depressing things—then I'd think of Arcadia looking up at me and I'd get all giggly again. I practically skipped my way over to the curb, wondering if it was my turn to sit on the moped again—

—Until I saw the bandages wrapped around Arcadia's arm.

I stop my happy bound and I stomp my way over, ready to crack my knuckles. "What the heck happened in P.E.?" It's difficult to keep my voice from lowering to a growl. When I find whatever jerk hurt Arcadia, I'm going to kill them, bring them back to life, then break their arm. Then kill them again.

Arcadia just makes a sheepish 'Eh' face and attempts to shrug. She winces in pain. Breeze hugs her tight to his side and rubs her shoulder with her fingers. I'm already seething, so I restrain my jealousy (to keep myself from popping a vein) and decide to focus on being worried instead.

"Arcadia was doing push-ups then a basketball landed on her back," Breeze says pitifully, as if remembering it all over again. I grimace. Cady's always seemed to have a...gravitational pull for sports balls. I don't know how many times we were walking around during recess back in Elementary, doing absolutely nothing, when Arcadia would suddenly fall face forward while a basketball used the back of her head as a trampoline. There was a weird pattern to the injuries, too. Soccer balls always hit her in the back, dodge balls in the stomach, and basketballs...well, that's pretty clear. Needless to say, many recesses were spent in the nurse's office with an ice pack. I'm pretty sure they had her name on one just for her.

I guess the God of Bad Luck decided to switch things up this year.

"And right before your birthday, too."

My jaw drops. I had almost forgotten about that. I'm going to break both of that guy's arms now. I had planned for this year's birthday to be freaking perfect for once, and now some random no-name's gotta screw everything up just cause he doesn't know the difference between a hoop and a human.

Every single year, Arcadia breaks something! It's getting freaking ridiculous. Here's an example: I planned to take Cady horseback riding last year. The day before, she broke her leg going down the stairs. The stairs. I offered to take her side-saddle so her cast wouldn't be an issue. Next day: fell down the stairs again, had to get a leg brace.

See what I mean?

Some evil force is determined to ruin Arcadia's birthday. I was planning to reserve a laser tag place this year, for goodness sake! It's like it knows just how to ruin things in the worst possible way.

I clench and unclench my fist, hoping to relieve the tension. It works just enough so I don't punch Breeze.

What? He's the most annoying thing in range.

"Who threw the—you know what, I don't even wanna know," I sigh sharply, knuckles white and red. At least, not now. I'm done with all this horse-crap. I grab Arcadia's backpack, ignoring her protests, rummaging through until I pull out the key. It's not hard to find. Her special Good Luck bell from Sweden is like a mini clock-tower for goodness sake. But it doesn't even work. Tch. For someone who’s whole ability is supposed to be based around fixing things, she tends to get a lot of broken bones.

I roll my eyes at her "Emergency beef jerky supply" and crumpled mess of Band-Aids. She's kept these in her backpack ever since the nurse's office ran out of band-aids just after a not-so-friendly game of dodgeball, and she had to skip lunch while they sent someone out to buy more so they could patch her up.

"I can't drive the moped without these cause of your dumb thumbprint recognition whatever." Arcadia silences her protests, only raising an eyebrow at me. I stare back at her with a steely glare. "You can't drive with that hand. And I'm the only one who's ever ridden it before." It's true. I bugged Arcadia all through the summer in sixth grade until she let me ride it around the block ten times.

Breeze opens his mouth, then scowls and reluctantly shuts it. He doesn't have the slightest idea how to ride it. The glee inside me starts to bubble up once more.

Arcadia finally sighs in defeat. "Thanks," she mutters, jumping onto the moped. I wag my finger at her, gesturing towards the backseat. "Ah-ah-ah. Backseat, hon. I'm the driver." I sort of regret saying it. Arcadia grits her teeth and looks as though she wants nothing more than to run me over and leave a skid mark on my face. But nevertheless she slowly scoots back, crossing her arms and scoffing at me as I sit in the driver's seat.

Cady places one cold hand on my shoulder. I glare at her. Arcadia scowls at me like What?

"I'm not going to have you hold on by one hand, missy. You better put your arms around me, or I'm walking you home," I threaten. I'm not serious often. I don't feel the need to be. But I'm serious when it comes to Arcadia, and that's all you need to know.

"Eros!" she whines childishly, pouting. It cracks my defenses, and my eye twitches.

"I will not have you fall off this moped," I scold sternly. Arcadia gives me another I'm going to tie you to some train tracks glare. Then she slowly, reluctantly, wraps her arms around my waist. I do a small, inward squeal before quickly composing myself again. Arcadia hits her head against my back. It thunks.

"I'm pretty sure that hurt you more than it hurt me." I somehow manage to hold back my laughter and maintain a concerned composure. "You okay?" I ask gently. Arcadia rubs her forehead, puffing her cheeks like she does whenever she's mad. "Shut up and drive, Twinkle Toes."

I nod at Breeze. "You ready, bud?" I ask, quite maturely if I do say so myself. Breeze grumbles an almost unintelligible, "Yeah, yeah, whatever," as he gets on my bike. Oh, how I want to smirk smugly at him and just rub it in. Now you know how it feels to be back seated, Legend.

"You ready back there Pandora?" I shout back to her. I adjust the squeaky rear-view mirror, and Pandora's grinning face appears in the reflection. She holds up a cheery thumbs-up, oblivious to the turmoil around her. Well, I think she is. I'm not so sure anymore. Whenever I think she's innocent, she turns out to be evil. But I think she likes me now. Well, approves of me. I think?

Sigh. I give up.

I shrug. "Alright, then." I push the key into the ignition, and the engine sputters and hiccups until it revs up.

"Wait!" Breeze yelps. He jumps off my bike, letting it clatter onto its side onto the asphalt. Scratching my new coat of red and purple paint. I swallow down a curse, and I inhale sharply through my nose. Focus on Arcadia, Focus on Arcadia—

Breeze pats down his pockets wildly. "Wait, wait—" He groans. "I think I dropped my keychain at the bike racks!"

Serves you right for chipping my paint.

Breeze takes off at the fastest I've ever seen him....which is not very fast, but it's faster than usual. Pandora does her trademark jump-squeal-hop. "Ooh, I wanna come, tooooo—!" Her shout trails off into the wind as she runs after Breeze, arms spread out like a plane.

A grin spreads across my face.

I look all around to make sure not too many witnesses are around, then I twist to face Cady. She deadpans suspiciously.

"I wanna charge a transport toll," I blurt. I had planned this whole intro that would make me seem really smooth—but you know, why would my mouth care what my brain wants to say? Cady's face is blank. "Excuse me?"

I purse my lips. "I'm not going to drive you for free." I flinch, preparing for her to slap me across the face. Arcadia flinches right with me. We both stare at each other tentatively, waiting for the other to make a move. "Fine," she hisses. Her nose wrinkles in that adorable way whenever she's found a problem she can't solve.

"You have to promise not to punch me," I warn quickly. "I'll try. But I make no promises," she says. Arcadia just shrugs at my fearful expression. "My reflexes get the best of me sometimes," she says defensively, sounding as un-assuring as always.

I ponder the pros and cons. Kiss her...and probably get punched. Don't kiss her...

Yeeeeah...

"Worth it." I kiss her quickly on the cheek, pulling away before she can change her mind and give me a black eye. Arcadia blushes bright red. I prepare myself for a batter of defensive insults. But it's eerily silent until Breeze and Pandora run back.

"Baaaack!" Breeze shouts, waving his arms wildly. I secretly wait for him face-plant; but alas, twas not meant to be. Breeze jumps onto the bike and rings the bell in place of revving an engine, which is so much less threatening it’s laughable. But at least it fits his personality. Pandora skips right onto the Penny board, somehow managing to stay balanced as it wobbles and rolls underneath her sudden momentum. I wonder if Arcadia snapped her fingers without anyone noticing.

"Alright, here we gooo!" I whoop, revving the engine loud and proud.

"What are you, Peter Pan?" Arcadia snaps. I can't take her seriously when she's clutching on my waist so tightly. Suddenly, an evil idea forms in my head.

Heh-heh.

"What was that?" I ask, cupping my hand around my ear. I jerk the handle to the left, driving us right over a speed bump. Arcadia squeaks and hugs me as tight as she can. I can barely hold back an evil cackle. Breeze starts laughing so hard he can barely stay on my bike. Pandora curses behind me, clutching the penny board for dear life. Well, sort of curses.

"Unicorn-poop! Eros, you rainbow-puppy peddler!"

"You did that on purpose!" Arcadia squeaks, digging her fingers into my shirt. I hope she can't see my grin in the rear-view. "Naw, why would I do that?" I ask exaggeratedly.

I drive over every speed bump, pothole, and asphalt crack that exists in this town. Arcadia shrieks the entire time, hugging me so tight I can barely breathe. Awesome.

I turn the key, and I stuff it in my pocket. "I hate you," Cady whispers, shivering like a Chihuahua. And yet she's still holding onto me. "No, you don't," I sing cheerily. Arcadia untangles her arms from my waist and crosses them instead, huffing up her purple and pink bangs.

I prepare to let out my evil cackle. Then a fist flies out of nowhere and bruises my arm. I have to grab the moped handle so I don't fall off. "Ow...Panda!?" Pandora smirks and blows on her knuckles. She uses her other hand to fist-bump Arcadia. Panda directs her death glare at me. I clam up at her fierce stare. "You weren't the only one to hit all those speed bumps, dope." Dang, she's scary. Her glare could rival Arcadia's. And I'm pretty sure Arcadia once lit someone on fire with just a glance—it’s not even her power, she just did it out of the sheer force of will and hatred.

Breeze slides in smoothly and takes Cady's hand, helping her up like some type of gentleman. He hugs her shoulder and rubs it gently with his thumb, murmuring to her softly. They both smile at each other. My eye twitches.

"What's wrong with her shoulder?" I ask grouchily. My teeth grind together so hard it rings in my ears. Breeze glances at Arcadia. She shrugs. Breeze pouts as he turns to me. "She got hurt in kindergarten once. Messed up all the nerves in her arms and shoulders. They seize up whenever she gets hurt real bad," he says shortly and concisely, obviously reluctant to reveal any sort of secret history with Cady they had while I wasn’t there. I sniff at him. He sniffs back.

"Oh," I mutter, my eyebrows knit together, not sure what else to say. Arcadia avoids looking at me.

Breeze takes her good arm and pulls her into the Cafe. "Better run," Pandora sings, inspecting her rainbow nails for any impurities. I reluctantly take her advice. I burst through the door, and I quickly slap my hand on the counter just before they reach it.

"Fairy Jelly Raisin Roll."

Oh, god, why did I just order that? The fairy jelly could taste like anything. I'm gonna need a Dragon-Fire pepper to cleanse my mouth of that taste.

I casually peer over my shoulder as I push forward my Visa. Breeze is still hugging Arcadia, much to my dismay, laughing like little pal-pals. He catches my gaze and scowls. I scowl back. Arcadia skips over to our booth, looking cheerier than usual. Then as soon as Breeze turns around, she winces and starts to roll it. She bites her lip to hold back any sort of sound or indication of her suffering. I sigh deeply, shaking my head.

What does she think she'll accomplish by hiding her pain?

I whistle casually as Breeze steps up to the counter. When I'm sure he's engrossed in choosing a fairy bun, I walk quickly to the table. I scoot to her side, and I slowly wrap my arm around her shoulder. She sighs in relief, and her stiff shoulder relaxes instantly. "Thanks—" She looks up at me and freezes, her mouth gaping. I smile awkwardly at her. Cady gulps.

"Does it hurt?" I ask gently.

"N-Not that much," she squeaks.

You're probably lying.

"Good," I mumble back half-heartedly, so quiet that I'm sure she didn't hear me. How come she has to do this to me? Put up her defenses whenever I think I'm getting close, and get all vulnerable when she knows I can't do a single thing. I feel like they're all conspiring against me.

Are they?

Arcadia looks so uncomfortable that she's about to burst a blood vessel. Her stomach rumbles a little bit against my ribcage. My face scrunches up. Is she, like...hungry? Why the hell is she wound up because she's hungry? What, does she need a Snickers? A frickin' Klondike Bar?

•

"You're not you when you're hungry."

Eros stares at his best friend from the corner of his eye, stiffening in his relaxed position on the couch as she perfectly imitates the deep voice of the candy-bar commercial slogan. When she invited him over to hang out and watch TV, he didn't really sign up for this bullshit.

"Wow, that was...really creepy," he says. Eros whistles. "Amazing. The first time anyone has ever made me shit my pants by perfectly quoting a Snickers Commercial Slogan at the same time as the announcer. You deserve a trophy for that,” he says, waving a chocolate covered pretzel at her, pretending to be impressed.

Arcadia refuses to relent, seeing that it bothers him, and becoming very amused.

"What would you do for a Klondike Bar?"

"I would get you to stop doing this weird TV-imitation thing you're doing for no Klondike Bars. I would give up Klondike Bars eternally and go to the mountains and live as a fucking monk for eight years if it meant I would be able to bring higher enlightenment to you, and get you to stop doing that."

"Hopefully you stop cursing when you get that higher enlightenment as well."

"Shut the fuck up."

Arcadia just shrugs, seeming utterly unaffected and unconcerned with the entire situation. Eros has been cursing a lot lately. She guesses that fifth grade just does that to boys. A switch is flipped in them, and suddenly they have access to the Adult Dictionary. Or maybe that's the age UrbanDictionary.com gets through the parental control settings. Same difference. "It's my talent," she jokes.

"Pretty sure you have other talents."

"Pretty sure I don't."

•