“That’s true,” I groan. I put my face in my hands. My fingers are greasy from the sausage roll.
“You immediately offered to help.”
“I did.”
“You insisted I accept your help.”
“Yeah…”
“Because you are a good person. A heroic person. You’re, like, who I’m out here trying to be in the world.”
“What? ” My head jerks up. How can he say that with a straight face? With a sincere face?
“I accept your help, Penelope.”
I groan again, loudly. “Shepard, nooooo. You were right all along.”
“No. You were right. I should trust you. I do trust you!” He’s gesturing broadly with an unopened bottle of orange juice. “You’re a wise and powerful witch, and I’m grateful for your help.”
“No! No, no, no. I’m none of those things. I’m an idiot!”
“Are you kidding? I’ve known you for two weeks, and I’ve seen you make one daring escape after another. I watched you kill three vampires, Penelope.
Single-handedly!”
“Shepard, you only saw me get out of terrible situations because I had put myself—and my friends— into those situations. I only make bad decisions.
It’s even worse than you realize! The day before we met, I got dumped by someone who had apparently already dumped me multiple times. I was just too thick to figure it out! I’m the reason we were on that disastrous road trip.
And it wasn’t wise of me to kill those vampires. It’s probably on YouTube!”
“Oh, it’s definitely on YouTube. I’ve watched it.”
“I’ll probably lose my ring over it!”
“Penelope—” he says, as if I’m just now getting out of hand.
I keep getting there: “And what happened after that? I got captured by a skunk! And a dragon! And more vampires! And I did nothing to get myself or anyone else out of it. Nothing!”
“You saved Agatha.”
“Agatha saved Agatha! I was along for the ride!”
“Penelope, I watched you—”
“That’s a problem, too, Shepard. Magicians aren’t supposed to do magic in front of Normals. Our entire culture depends on secrecy. I should have wiped your memory a dozen times over.”
He smiles again. “To be fair, you did try.”
“Argghhhhhhhh.” I fall back against the headboard.
Shepard leans closer. “I know you’re a good witch,” he says gently. “Your friends treat you like a Jedi Master.”
“My friends?” I know Shepard doesn’t mean to be cruel, but that was a low blow. My voice drops away from me. “You mean, Simon? He broke up with me, too. Because I kept getting him in trouble. You heard my mother: I make problems.” I shake my head. “I don’t solve them.”
Shepard finally stops arguing.
I can’t face him. I stare at my lap instead.
After a few minutes, I hear him sigh. “So, that’s it? You’re going to send me home?”
I look back up. He’s got his lips twisted to one side. Like he can’t quite fathom that his powers of persuasion have failed.
“Yes,” I say. “I can send you to Las Vegas if you want. And give you money to get your truck back.”
“Would it be counterfeit money?”
“Yes.”
“You can just send me back to Omaha.”
“All right.”
His shoulders are slumped, and he （finally） looks sad. Maybe he isn’t thinking about how his charm failed him; maybe he’s thinking about how I did.
“I am sorry that I dragged you here,” I say.
He lifts up his chin. “It’s okay, Penelope. It was fun. I got to see a little bit of London. And a little bit of magic.” He smiles. “I met some either/orcs.”
“Let me get cleaned up,” I say. “Then I’ll figure out your ticket.”
Shepard hands me the orange juice he’s been holding. “I’m sorry you got dumped,” he says. “I didn’t know.”
“Me neither, apparently.”
He gathers the sausage roll trash and stands up. “Anyone who would break up with you multiple times isn’t playing with a full deck.”
“That’s not true, but thanks.”
Shepard walks away. His hair nearly brushes the top of my doorway.
“I do wish I could have helped you,” I say.
He pauses and shrugs. “It’s okay.” Then he walks out of the room and turns back to me. “You really were the first person to ever give me any hope of getting my soul back. I’m still grateful for that.”