“After Cotillion,” I told her, giving her my favorite saying. “I have a couple more lessons, and then I’m totally giving it up. Trust me.”

But once again, there was that niggling thought. Even if I did manage to keep Blythe from doing her crazy spell and save the town, what would happen then?

No. One day at a time.

Bee nodded, but she was still chewing her lower lip. “Okay. So, hey, since we don’t have Cotillion practice today, wanna hit up the Dixie Bean after school?”

A pair of freshman girls walked by, their arms linked tightly. They were laughing, heads close together, and something about them made my throat ache. “I have to meet Saylor today.”

Bee’s face fell a little, so I hastily added, “Do you want to come with me again? I think today we’re learning this cool move that knocks people out. You know, like that Star Trek thing.” I pinched the air with my hand, hoping Bee would laugh.

She just shook her head. “That’s okay. I think the twins are free, so . . .”

“Oh.” I dropped my hand. “Right. Well, y’all go to the Dixie Bean. Put extra whipped cream on your mocha for me.”

She smiled at that, but it didn’t reach her eyes. We made our way to our lockers. “I suwannee,” I joked. “Next year? I am so going to be one of those stereotypical seniors who stacks her schedule with easy classes.” As I said it, I tried to push away the image of me bleeding out on the steps of Magnolia House. I would have a senior year.

“But I guess that’s the thing with junior year. Between college stuff, and regular school, things are so—”

“Really busy right now,” Bee filled in, switching her backpack to her other shoulder. “I know. And it looks like things are about to get busier for you.” She inclined her head toward my locker, or rather, to the pale purple sheet of paper taped there.

That color paper only meant one thing. The headmaster wanted to see me.

“What?” I said dumbly, ripping the paper from my locker.

“It can’t be bad,” Bee offered. “I mean . . . you’re you.”

My hand was trembling a little as I pushed the piece of paper into my coat pocket. “Yeah, he probably wants to talk to me about SGA stuff. See you at lunch?”

Brandon came through the front doors then, whooping Bee’s name, and I never got a reply.

Turning away, I headed for the main office, Headmaster Dunn’s secretary waving me through when I held up the little piece of purple paper. The office smelled like coffee and leather, and the walls were covered in all of his various diplomas and awards for education.