“What’s to decide? I can pick you up if you need a ride.”

Another smile and a toss of her hair. “I’ll let you know.”

He swam off, and Hunter’s glare followed him.

“You’re not really going to go anywhere with that guy, are you?”

“Maybe,” she said.

They walked into the library, but instead of sitting down at a table he took her arm and pulled her behind the history section. “What’s gotten into you? Why are you doing this?”

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“Doing what?” she asked, but she knew. She just wanted him to say it.

He held out one hand, waving it in front of her. “The way you’re acting. The way you’re suddenly carrying on with complete jerks.” More hand waving, as though he were trying to erase something in the air. “You’ve stopped being you.”

She tilted her head at him in accusation. “Why shouldn’t I change? You never liked the old me.” His head snapped slightly backward. “I did too.”

“No, you didn’t.” She swept her hand in front of her, presenting herself. “You like this. This is why you’re dating Savannah and not me.” There, she’d said it, and she hadn’t even meant to.

He looked at her without speaking, realization satur-ating his expression.

She turned to go. She did not want to be there when he found the words to speak.

But he never did. Speak, that is. He reached out, took her arm, and moved in front of her to block the way. She stopped and looked at the belt loops on his jeans, waiting for him to say something. Still, he didn’t.

She watched his chest move up and down with each breath. Some sort of emotion made the breaths come faster, but she was afraid to find out which emotion that was. She stared at the bookshelves around her, at the 27/431

books lined up in perfect, tidy rows. Her life had been like that once— perfect, tidy.

“Jane,” he said.

She looked up to decipher his gaze, but didn’t see much of it. He bent down and kissed her.

Somewhere in her mind a row of books went flying.

Pages flapped by like birds in flight. She kissed him back and felt them flutter away in a reckless scramble. Don’t think, she told herself and then, don’t let him go.

But of course both happened eventually. He stepped away from her and ran his fingers through his hair, watching her breathlessly.

“We shouldn’t have done that,” she told him.

“No—we should have done that a long time ago.” He leaned down then and kissed her again.

In Jane’s defense, it took her a while to process what he’d said. It was hard to think while he kissed her. Finally she gave up trying to sort it out and pushed him away. “What do you mean? Do you think I want to betray my sister?” She took a step away from him. “What kind of person do you think I am?” He looked at her as though just realizing it himself. “I think you’re the perfect person for me.” Jane shook her head. At last she remembered Savannah— but you can’t blame her. You haven’t thought of Savannah in pages. Savannah was, at that moment, 28/431

ignoring her English assignment in favor of a prom dress catalog. She was wondering if Hunter could set up Jane with one of his friends. That way they could double date.

But back to Jane and Hunter. The taste of his kiss had turned to bitterness on Jane’s lips. “You already chose Savannah.”

“And that was a mistake.”

They looked at each other silently, each one weighing the past against the future. “I’ll break up with her,” he said.

“Not yet,” she said. “We have to think of a way to do it gently.”

Jane thought over this particularly difficult equation for the next week. The ride to school in the morning became an exercise in awkwardness. Lunch was better and worse. After they ate, they walked the rows of the library. Biographies and poetry. General fiction and mysteries. At some point Hunter would take her hand and say, “There is no way to do it gently. We just need to tell her.”

Jane would lean into him, stand close enough to hear his heartbeat, and want nothing more than to keep her arms around him. But she always said, “Not yet.” Hunter grew more silent and distant toward Savannah during their car rides. Occasionally he sent heavy, 29/431

questioning looks in Jane’s direction. He never took Savannah’s hand or put his arm around her.

Savannah should have known then, but she didn’t. Sometimes love not only lifts you to the ceiling, it also keeps your eyes there.

One day as the three walked across the parking lot, Savannah told Hunter that he’d become gloomy and really, he should stop worrying about finals—hadn’t he already been accepted to George Mason? She took hold of his hand and gave him a knowing look. “Seriously.

We’re going to have to refresh your fun skills.” She gestured toward her sister. “Even Jane is loosening up—look at her.”

He did.

“She’s going to be a total hunk magnet when she goes to college. She’ll probably have so much fun that—I don’t know— she’ll let a grade or two slip to an A minus.”

He kept looking at Jane. She blushed.

Savannah nudged Hunter because his hand had gone limp in hers. “Let’s go do something fun tonight.”

“We’ll go out tonight,” he said. “It’s time we did.” Then his eyes found Jane’s again. Right or wrong, the equation was written.

Jane nodded. Watching the way her sister possess-ively took hold of Hunter’s hand had momentarily 30/431

blocked out thoughts of loyalty.

Fairy’s conclusion: In ten years Jane wouldn’t have let things unfold that way, but eighteen years old is too young to understand that things that are easily done are often much harder to undo. Sometimes impossible.

And when you invite a grudge that big and vicious to come and sit between you and your sister, well, let’s just say it will be keeping you company for a long, long time. I’ve seen grudges half as small scare off trolls and goblins. Large grudges make dragons shiver. But there it was, grumbling with hunger and stretching its claws between the two of them.

All those years of sisterhood were about to be chewed to pieces.

This is why mortals need magic.

Of course, they don’t realize it. Never has a fairy godmother been called upon to vanquish a grudge. Instead they settle for jewels, kingdoms, handsome princes, that sort of thing. It was this reason, by the way, and not laziness, disinterest, or time spent at too many Pixie dances—as some of my magic professors asserted—

that I concentrated my studies on jewels, kingdoms,and handsome princes. In fact, as you have seen frommy final reports, I spent more than the required timestudying handsome princes. This was due to the 31/431

extreme importance mortals put on royalty, and not, as Headmistress Berrypond suggested, that I am an in-curable flirt.

I hope you will see from the Wishes Granted budget report that I used my magic to the best ends and took on this project following fairy godmother protocol ensuring that the subjects, Savannah Delano and her sister, Jane, lived happily ever after.

From

the

Honorable

Master

Sagewick

Goldengill

To Mistress Berrypond

Dear Mistress Berrypond,

I am in receipt of Chrysanthemum Everstar’s report, yet it seems quite a bit has been left un-said about her time as a magical godmother for the mortal Savannah Delano. Can you please have the Memoir Elves elaborate so that the academy and I can more accurately assess her project?

Yours,

Sagewick Goldengill