I mean—I believed I was in a healthy relationship with a person who had already dumped me; that is a staggering thing to be wrong about.
What other false things do I believe in?
Am I delusional? Am I hearing voices?
“You are definitely not getting your security deposit back.”
“Be quiet, Shepard, I’m trying to think.”
Talk about a giant mistake—this Normal, sitting in my living room. Still completely cursed. And now an illegal immigrant, to boot. Throw another bad decision on the bonfire. I should make a list of them …
It took me sixteen spells, but I’ve finally magicked our living room wall into a giant blackboard.
“You know, there’s a paint,” Shepard says, still not being quiet, “that turns any wall into a chalkboard.”
“Sorry I don’t know where to buy magic paint.” Ah, there’s my chalk.
Excellent.
“No, it’s a regular paint…”
I write What we know in big letters on one side of the wall and What we don’t know on the other.
“Penelope, this might not be my place to say—”
“Then perhaps you shouldn’t say it.”
He does, of course: “Maybe you should consider getting some sleep.”
I shake my head. “Every time I fall asleep, Simon slips past me.”
“He said he had an appointment.”
“You don’t understand—Simon never has appointments! He never even leaves the flat!”
“I did meet him in America…”
I rub my eyes. They won’t stop watering. “You don’t know anything, Shepard.”
“Better add that to your chalkboard.”
“Oh, I’m planning to.”
He takes the chalk from my hand and writes The human body requires sleep on the left side of the wall.
“I’m fine,” I snap. “I’ve cast the appropriate spells.”
I told Mum that I spelled Shepard stupid and left him at the American embassy. I think she believed me.
It’s more plausible than the truth—that I smuggled a Normal into the country and have been letting him sleep on my sofa for days. I never planned on this. I really thought I’d have Shepard fixed up and headed home within a few hours. But Mum sent me packing, and I can’t even approach my dad— he’ll go straight to my mum.
I stare at the blank blackboard and groan. “Where is Simon? I can’t do this without him.”
“Do you need Simon because he knows about demons?”
“Morgana, no. I need him here to listen to me think.”
“Maybe Baz knows where Simon went?”
“Baz is in the middle of a ‘family crisis,’ apparently.”
“Oh—does he need our help?”
“I don’t know. He’s being cagey.”
Shepard still has my chalk. He writes Where is Simon? and Does Baz need our help? on the right side of the blackboard.
I turn to face him. “You’re really extremely infuriating, do you know that?”
He smiles. Almost like he’s being patient with me. It’s infuriating.
“Penelope, you’re honestly the first person to ever say so.”
I rub my eyes again and groan.
It’s dark when I wake up. I must have fallen asleep on the sofa. If I’m sleeping on the sofa, where is Shepard sleeping? There’s someone sitting near my feet. Something with horns and wings. It’s a demon, it’s the demon— “Hey,” Simon says, grabbing me by the shoulders. “Hey. Penny. It’s just me. It’s me.”
I’ve sat up. My heart is racing. “Nicks and Slick, Simon!”
“I’m sorry.”
“I thought you were…”
“Shepard was sleeping on the floor,” Simon says. “I told him he could use my bed.”
I fumble around for my glasses. “Why aren’t you using your bed? Where have you even been, Simon?” My glasses are on the floor. “You won’t believe what happened with my mum. Also, you need to text Baz. I think he’s worried about you. He’s been stuck in Oxford all week…”
“Penny, I need to talk to you.”
Simon is sitting sideways at the end of the sofa. His wings are spread out behind the arm, so he doesn’t have to lean on them. It would drive me round the twist to have to sit on those wings all the time. I don’t know how he sleeps.
My gem is tucked into my bra. I fish it out and hold my hand out to him.
“I’ve got a new spell to try, to take care of your wings around the house. I think it will only shrink them, but it takes less magic than the others—”