My phone blings three times in a row with the cheery ringtone I use for texts from Saxim. She told me she’d wait outside for me, and for one taffy-long second I wonder how I can get back out to her when my legs feel oozy and boneless as custard.

“It’s Saxim, isn’t it?” he says, blowing the air out of his mouth.

Hearing my best friend’s name spoken by him jogs my awareness. My mouth opens, closes. “Yeah. How did you know?” I stare at my phone, the monogram warping. Another cheery bling, like I’ve magicked it into existence. My boneless face smiles.

“Of course. That’s why you’re upset and acting all weird. She told you, didn’t she?” he says, running a floppy hand over his rubbery face. “It wasn’t spying, I promise. I only read your messages on the Pocket Best Friends to make sure you were coping well.”

My jaw drops, but he doesn’t notice—he’s massaging his eyes, eyes that shrink and pop out of his skull.

“And I only befriended Saxim’s parents and offered them a stipend because I wanted to make sure she was okay. She was your best friend, you know?” He looks up, bubble eyes bursting with warped sympathy.

I rock in place, dizziness crashing over me.

“It couldn’t have been easy to go through your mom’s disappearance and your move to the States. And then I thought it could make logical sense to ask her to check in on you and your sister, but Saxim got the wrong idea, and she refused. She didn’t do anything, I sw—”

“Bathroom?” I shout, voice cracking. I clear my throat and try to cut the nerves from my voice, but they’re one and the same now. I am a giant springy nerve.

Teddy tracks, controls, monitors all of us all along. Surveillance machines. The Pocket Best Friends, Mina, the security mannequin, the car, the—

“Are you okay?” he says, his childish face warping in front of me, a big pink balloon, with a twisting pop of a nose and lips. “I guess my private blend is hitting you, huh?”

I swallow hard. The tea—his private blend. Chamomile, valerian, and what? What’s the last herb in it? What’s hitting me? The terror of it rushes through me, clean and thick and hot. I drank it before, Noni drank it before, and he’s drinking it, too. Am I tripping?

His cheeks rise, big and lush as two Jigglypuffs. They’re swaying, as if to put me to sleep. I can’t stop staring. “It’s not supposed to be hallucinogenic at these doses, don’t worry. It’s just meant to chill people out. But I’ll have someone grab you a coconut water. Do you want some truffled mac and cheese or something, too? And then we can chat some more about all of this.”