When I wake up I’m alone in the car and Issie is banging on the window. The hair that’s not tucked underneath her rainbow-striped hat flies all around in the wind.
“Zara!” Is yells. Her little fist thumps hard against the glass. “Zara! Unlock the door!”
I unlock the door.
“Devyn! Hurry up!” Is yanks the door open and leans in. She’s almost crawling on top of me. “Oh my gosh, are you okay? Are you okay? I thought you were dead!”
“I’m not dead,” I manage to say, wiping a hand across my eyes. “I feel dead though. Groggy.”
“This is not a good place to sleep! Oh my gosh, I totally don’t want to disempower you or your choices but this is dangerous, Zara. Your car is halfway out of the space, but the engine is off,” Is rushes out. Her eyes are frantic bunny big.
“He must have shut the engine off,” I say, still trying to get a grip on what’s happened.
“Your skin looks funny. Bluish almost. Wait. He? Who is he? Nick?” She gets close to my nose. Cold air rushes in the open door as she stares into my eyes.
I’ve been slumped across the front seat and there’s an embarrassing drool spot on the dark gray upholstery. I pull myself up into a sitting position. “Oh, that damn pixie guy.”
Is gasps. “What did you say?”
He must have knocked me out somehow. I don’t know how. I touch my shoulder, but there’s nothing there. No pain spots. No blood. There’s a smear of blood on the passenger door handle, but that’s it. That’s the only sign someone was here.
Devyn appears with Cassidy standing behind him. Her mittened hand rests on his wheelchair like she owns it. His face staggers into worry. “Zara? What’s happened?”
I give him big eyes and glance at Cassidy’s concerned face. Her braids swing in the wind. “Nothing. I—I just fell asleep, and, uh—”
“She hit the parking brake. The car rolled.” Issie covers for me.
Cassidy’s eyes narrow. She’s good-looking and dark. She’s a lot taller than Is, a lot more glamorous too, and, it seems, a lot more savvy. “We aren’t on an incline.”
“Oh, you know gravity!” Issie blunders. “It’s always pulling on you, right?”
She elbows Devyn in the shoulder so hard that his wheelchair skitters to the side. Cassidy catches it. He makes eye contact with her and says, “Thanks.”
Things seem to go all slow-motion then and I don’t know if it’s because I’m a little woozy or if it’s because of Issie. She gazes at Devyn. Devyn’s still looking at Cassidy. Cassidy’s smiling down at him adoringly. Crap.
“Are you sure nothing happened to you, Zara?” Devyn asks, once he’s managed to look back at us. It’s obvious that each of his words carries a double meaning. There’s no way I can tell him the truth, though, not with Cassidy right here.
So I use the code we’ve developed. “I’ve been tinked.”
“What’s tinked?” Cassidy asks. She tugs at the end of her coat sleeve.
For a second none of us say anything. “Tinked” is the code word for “Tinker Bell,” which is the code name for “surprise pixie interaction.”
Devyn lies authoritatively with that professorial voice of his. “Tired. Fried. Frazzled. A state of extreme exhaustion.”
Cassidy smiles at him. “Oh. I am always tinked after Mr. Burns’s tests. You too, Zara? That man is evil. I thought bio was supposed to be fun.”
I nod a little too aggressively, because the world gets woozy again. Issie leans forward. “You almost look blue, Zara. You’re more pale than normal.”
“Yeah,” I manage to say, “that test killed me.”
For a second everyone is silent and awkward. Cassidy takes charge, scratches at her jeans. Then she says, “Well, Devyn, you ready to go?”
“I’m—uh—” He fidgets with the folder in his lap. It’s the book we’re working on. “Yeah. Cassidy’s driving me home.”
“Sheesh, dude. You make it sound like an apology.” Cassidy stretches her long arms above her head. She fixes her long purple scarf and gives Issie a weird, probing look. Then she itches at the skin the scarf just touched and jokes, “Is driving home with me so awful?”
“No,” he bumbles. “I didn’t mean—I didn’t mean that.”
He is not looking at Issie. Her face is one ball of crushed. For a second I forget about the pixie guy. Issie’s hurt wipes out everything else.
“Call me later, Zara,” he yells as he and Cassidy head toward her car.
Issie slams into the passenger seat of my car. “Are you okay to drive?”
“Yep.”
“Then drive,” she orders. “As fast as legally possible so we can get away from here.”
I turn Yoko on, steer back into the travel lane of the parking lot, and drive over something that crinkle crushes with a horrible noise as the tire moves over it. I poke open the door and peek. It’s an abandoned Coke can, flattened now. I shut the door and as soon as the car is positioned forward I reach over and brush the hair out of Issie’s face.
“Is, you want to . . . ?” I start.
“No. We are not going to talk about it. My lack of a love—whatever—is not important. What’s important is that you were passed out in the car. So talk. Talk now.” She pulls her arms in front of her chest.
“But—”
“Seriously, Zara, just tell me what happened.”
I do.
Right after I’ve dropped Issie off Devyn calls, demanding to know what’s going on.
“It’s hard to explain on the phone,” I tell him. “Can I just come over?”
Then it dawns on me. I’ve never been over Devyn’s house. I don’t even know where he lives. There’s a big silence and then he goes, “No.”
I pull Yoko into my driveway, stare up at the cute wood-shingled Cape where my grandma Betty and I live. It looks so sweet, so normal; not like a place that’s been ransacked by a pixie king. Devyn’s been here a hundred times working on our pixie book, hanging out, researching. Something hardens in my gut. What is up with him? Hanging out with Cassidy, blowing off Is, never having me over. I can’t hold back the harshness in my voice. “Why? Is Cassidy there?”