Nicole inhaled, filled her protesting lungs, held it for three infinite seconds, and then exhaled. She repeated that process until it stopped hurting to do something so normal. Until the murky shadows regained the original shapes of her suite on Jewel Van Hanen’s estate.

She threw the blankets to the side, running to the bathroom to get dressed. Twenty minutes later, she knocked repeatedly on the red door at the end of Crayola Hall.

Stella’s eyes were barely open as she leaned against the doorjamb. “Nicole, I adore you, truly.” Her voice had lowered into a gravelly vocal fry. “But the sun isn’t even up yet. This better be good.”

“It is,” Nicole said. “I need your help.”

SATURDAY, 6:00 A.M.

Announcement

Please proceed to the Wardrobe Room for dress.

The theme of the morning is flower child disco.

Breakfast will begin at 8:00 A.M. in the Cat Café.

A reminder:

A Nonsensical Recipe for Winning

Preheat oven to 314 degrees.

Mix all colors until batter is smooth.

Pour into sweet companion molds. Set aside all but three key ingredients.

Whip two partridges until a psychopomp and circumstance forms.

Share and cut the Baker’s dozen chocolate bar into quadragrams.

In a pressure cooker, separate the royal flush with red herrings wild. Bake for seven minutes.

Serve the chocolate concoction scrambled atop a pie on a cloudy white day under a winner’s cursed crown.

PARTNERS

SATURDAY, 6:04 A.M.

Waking up felt like dragging herself through the mud, one dirty fistful at a time. Luna had a headache right in the middle of her forehead. Her skin felt too tight on her face, and her eyes itched—and she could only use one hand to touch them.

Because she’d fractured her arm. Right. A dull ache pulsed inside her forearm.

After Luna had lost her footing on the portrait and fallen, everything had shifted out of focus. The pain in her arm and in her back had been immediate and unrelenting. She didn’t remember screaming, but she knew she had cried.

And then, Jewel was there, asking if she wanted to go home.

Of course, she didn’t. She wanted to stay.

After Nicole had left last night, Luna had found Alex already asleep in his room. She lay down next to him. Not on him. Which was where she was now. He was awake, reading something on his tablet. His other arm was wrapped around her shoulders, holding her to him.

She sat up. “Did I sleep on you all night?”

“I dunno. Maybe.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“Apology not accepted. That’s not worth being sorry about.”

Was she supposed to feel weird or something? She’d never slept with a boy before. She’d never even shared a bed with anyone except Tasha—obviously very different circumstances.