Archive of Our Own ^beta

Tucked away in the dustiest corner of the Salvatore Memorial Library stands an antique grandfather clock, chiming hollowly every hour. As the hands move past three in the afternoon, Josie steps around the heavy bookshelves, weaving in and out of the stacks. At the end of the row, she pulls out a random book, flipping through its musty pages, and tries her best not to feel like a stalker, even if that’s what the circumstances have conspired to make her in this moment.

Through the gaps between the timeworn shelves and even older tomes, she watches her target settle in at the center worktable, colorful notebooks and pens spilling everywhere.

Penelope Park. Pretty, pretentious, perpetually surrounded by too many friends.

Now normally, Josie believes in peace and harmony and staying out of other people’s business—live and let live and all that jazz. But alas, here she is. In the library on a mission of stealth and subterfuge, spying on a girl she knows very little about.

If Josie has to pinpoint an inciting incident, it must be the accident last week. Lizzie wanted Josie’s help dying her hair and eyebrows a reddish brown for some reason Josie wasn’t privy to. Unfortunately, the tube of eyebrow dye and the tube of homemade magic whiteout looked far too similar under the dim desk light. The subsequent mess was… too horrible for words. And Lizzie said it would take something big for Josie to make it up to her. Events Committee membership big.

Hm, on second thought, maybe that’s not the start, maybe it goes back to when the Events Committee was formed last winter. Penelope and the sycophants she surrounds herself with managed to convince Josie’s dad that he should delegate event planning to a student org, namely them. For some reason—likely a personal desire to avoid all party-related things—he’d agreed.

Or maybe it began with Penelope’s arrival to the Salvatore Boarding School for the Young and Gifted a year and a half ago. Josie vaguely remembers the welcome tour; it was one of the few that she’d done alone while Lizzie adjusted to her new medication. Penelope had been aloof, bored, and barely paying attention to Josie as they’d wandered around campus. And after that, Josie was too occupied by Crisis Lizzie to recall the details of Penelope’s meteoric ascent to popularity.

But if Josie’s looking for somewhere to cast blame, the causal chain of events stretches way too far back (and it’s probably Hope’s family’s fault anyway). Regardless, every point leads to inevitability, to here, to this incredibly stupid and desperate decision.

And Josie doesn’t have time to ponder more, because her quarry is on the move.

Penelope strides out, giving a lazy nod of farewell to her friends, and heads in the direction of the dorms, heels clicking with each step. Ten paces behind, Josie follows, her attention trained on Penelope’s back. Once they’re closer to Penelope’s room, Josie will catch up, finding that rare, elusive moment when they can have a convo one on one—no minions, no twins, no nosy classmates around.

Focusing on that one singular thought has its drawbacks though. For instance, if said mark abruptly stops in her tracks to rifle through her backpack, then a savvier person free of the burden of tunnel vision might know to go around her. Josie, an amateur operative through and through, simply skids to a not-so-discreet stop right behind Penelope.

In an unsurprising but still very distressing turn of events, Penelope spins to face Josie, eyebrows knitted in confusion. As Penelope opens her mouth, something no doubt questioning and scornful halfway out—

“Oh, hey,” Josie says, like it’s nothing, like that’s what she meant to say, like she hasn’t just proven herself to be the world’s worst everything.

“Hey?” Penelope repeats with more than a hint of incredulity.

“Uh, I was just looking for you,” Josie stammers. With any luck, that half-truth will be convincing enough to mitigate this five car pile-up into a mere fender bender.

“Okay.” Penelope crosses her arms, unimpressed. “You found me. What now?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” Josie responds, hoping that will buy her a little more time to say something clever. Outside of the welcome tour, they’ve exchanged maybe a dozen words, nothing of substance. What would be a good reason to seek Penelope out?

“Alright, what about?” Penelope asks mockingly slow, as if speaking to a particularly stupid toddler.

Shit. Josie’s come up with exactly nothing. And there are people passing them in the hall still, which is just unideal in every way. If Josie has to make a fool out of herself, she really doesn’t need more than one witness. Plus, that means bribery is probably out.

Penelope tilts her head, still waiting for an answer, and Josie feels more moronic with each passing second.

“The Events Committee,” Josie finally manages.

Oh okay, sure, she went with the truth. It’s devious in a way, if she thinks about it for no longer than a couple seconds.

“What, you also want to be on it?” Penelope flips her long, black hair over one shoulder. “Well, I’ll tell you what I told your screechy sister—”

“No, I’m here about Lizzie joining,” Josie cuts in. “And I know what you told her, but I was hoping you’d reconsider.”

“Okay, why should I reconsider?”

“Uhm, well, Lizzie’s super organized,” Josie scrambles to say. “That’s an asset to any team. Uh, and she’s also very driven. And—”

“That… was the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.” Penelope shakes her head, a mirthful smile curving into place. “Do you even like your sister?”

Josie crosses her arms, mirroring Penelope’s stance without meaning to. With much more confidence and a lot less sputtering, Josie tries again. “Fine, why should you let Lizzie join? Sure, she’ll take all the credit, but she’ll also do all the work. She’ll pester and boss everyone around, but she can also get our dad to agree to just about anything.”

Penelope lifts her chin, scrutinizing Josie with narrowed eyes, like she’s seriously considering it.

All that’s left is a closing argument then.

Josie smiles, drawing on her affection for her sister, hoping it shines through. “And sure, you’ll want to strangle her, but when it comes down to it, she’ll help you get away with murder.”

In the face of Penelope’s continued stoicism, Josie falters once more.

“Or whatever the equivalent of that is for event planning,” Josie finishes in a mutter.

Pursing her lips, Penelope steps forward into Josie’s personal space now, closer than Josie expects.

Josie straightens, forcing herself not to take an instinctual step back.

“Great speech,” Penelope says, short and condescending, “but I’m never going to work with your nightmare of a sister.” As Josie’s hopes fall, Penelope tacks on one last insincere, “Sorry.”

And with that, Penelope pivots on her heel and walks away.

A sting of proxy rejection needles at Josie as she stares after Penelope. But Josie can’t dwell on that, she needs to start formulating her next plan. If the polite, easy way couldn’t work, then whatever follows is on Penelope Park.

Over the next week, using patient observation and the power of Lizzie’s natural affinity for gossip, Josie determines the weak links of Penelope’s posse—Marcy and Kate. Utilizing the hard-earned recon experience under her belt, Josie confirms the rumors that the two of them always sneak out after curfew on Tuesdays and Thursdays to smoke in the woods. And come Thursday evening, Josie’s hatched a beautifully simple plan.

Step one, Josie waits until ten minutes after curfew, when the halls have cleared and her classmates have all turned in for the night. Step two, she heads to her father’s office under the pretense of missing quality time between just the two of them (which is half-true at the very least). Given any other circumstance, she’d feel selfish, but this isn’t really for her, so she can reason that it’s actually selfless in a way. Step three, she keeps him busy for another half hour before casually mentioning that the blood fridge’s lock has been broken for a few days (which is actually true, but only because she’d broken it herself).

And that’s all it takes. Josie returns to her room, and her father hurries to the kitchen. And if that route takes him past the back staff entrance, the one jammed open with a rather more conspicuous than usual door wedge?

All in a night’s work.

Mid-morning, Josie strolls into the dining hall with an extra pep in her step. The buzz of the day straight from Lizzie’s mouth, “Did you hear? Tall Marcy and Klepto Kate got so totally busted last night, they have detention until the end of the month,” definitely has something to do with it.

The triumph propels Josie all the way over to Penelope’s usual table, where Marcy and Kate sit dejectedly amongst a few others. Normally that might’ve gotten a twinge of guilt from Josie, but she’s too girl-on-a-mission to care today. As she approaches, Beth H whispers into Penelope’s ear to alert her.

Quiet but not quietly enough, Penelope says, “Here we go again.”

“Good morning!” Josie says, sounding more chipper than she probably should. Clearing her throat, she tries again, more evenly. “I mean, good morning.”

Penelope leans back in her chair. “Morning,” she responds with a smile so exaggerated that it almost hurts to look at.

“Have you given any more thought to a spot on the committee?” Josie asks, as neutrally as she can manage. It wouldn’t do to gloat right in front of the victims of this ploy.

“Oh, the thing I said ‘never’ to?” Penelope raises an eyebrow. “That’s still where I’m at. Short of owing some sort of massive, unfortunate favor, it’s not happening.”

The elation of Josie’s victory evaporates, replaced by a sinking feeling.

“Why do you think I’m doing this?” Josie mutters, not quite under her breath.

Penelope shrugs. “Because Lizzie’s the bigger twin, and there’s a pecking order.”

That draws a few chuckles from the others at the table. Though Josie’s cheeks heat up with embarrassment—she knows how other people think of her and her sister, and so what if they think she’s the doormat—she pushes through it.

“I heard you were down a couple people for the dance next week though.”

At that, Penelope spares a glance towards Marcy and Kate as they shrink away.

“Yeah,” Penelope concedes, facing Josie once more, “but I’m not that desperate. There’s still like a hundred other people at this school I could ask first.”

Josie clenches her jaw, failure biting at her once more. It seems she’s underestimated Penelope’s dislike of Lizzie.

“Fine,” Josie says, curt. “Have fun with that then.” She reverses course, slinking away with hunched defeat.

Behind her, Penelope and her friends break out into scattered chit-chat and laughter.

Once she’s out of sight, Josie furrows her brow.

This is far from over.

Josie spends the rest of the day with a wandering mind, going through the motions of class work and what-have-you. No, there’s much more important things to be considering, like her next steps moving forward.

By dinnertime, she’s short on details, still trying to identify an opportunity ripe for more sabotage or other methods of light persuasion. As she takes a seat next to MG, her gaze flickers over to Penelope’s table.

Penelope—the bitch—has the audacity to be mid-laugh at something one of her stupid friends said.

“I’m so glad today’s almost over,” Lizzie announces, forgoing any traditional greeting, and plops her tray down with a loud clatter. “Not my day.”

Not Josie’s either. But Josie wisely lets Lizzie continue uninterrupted.

“Dorian tracked me down this morning and told me I have too many books checked out. So now I have to return them before I can borrow any more. Can you believe that? Oh, and then, Ms. Tig had to cut my session short because of some quote unquote emergency.” Lizzie pulls a sour face. “Some kid’s great-grandma died or whatever.”

“Damn,” MG chimes in. “They okay?”

Rookie mistake. Josie winces in anticipation.

“Probably! But am I okay? That should be Ms. Tig’s top concern. Maybe even yours too.” Lizzie takes an aggressive bite out of her burger.

MG’s mouth opens and closes noiselessly a couple times before he recovers. “Oh, yeah. That was my second first question. You okay?”

“No,” Lizzie answers solemnly.

At MG’s crestfallen expression, Josie finally intercedes. “She’s messing with you.”

“I’m not.” Lizzie scoffs. Then, with an accusing glare— “And maybe I’d be doing better if I didn’t have to pencil my eyebrows on every morning. Or if I was on the Events Committee.”

“I’m working on it,” Josie grumbles, a hint of bitterness coloring her tone. How does Lizzie think she’s spent the past week?

Josie looks over at Penelope’s table again, this time just as Penelope and Marcy stand, ready to leave the dining hall. MG and Lizzie follow her gaze, stretching to get a peek.

“Penelope has been… less than helpful.” Josie tracks Penelope’s exit, her eyebrows drawing down as she glowers.

“She’s not that bad once you get to know her,” MG offers up.

That gets Josie’s attention. She snaps back to face him. “You’re friends with her?”

Lizzie turns to MG with a matching interest.

“I don’t know about friends,” MG hedges under their watchful eyes, “but we’re bio partners.”

Bio partners! Why has Josie been laboring away in degradation when she’s had an in this whole time?

“Well, help me change her mind then,” Josie says, grabbing MG’s wrist with urgency.

“Nah, we’re not close like that, Jo.”

Josie pouts. “In the nicest way possible. What use are you?”

MG laughs and gently twists out of her grip before slinging an arm around the back of her chair. “Alright, alright. I don’t know how you go about changing that girl’s mind, but if I were you, I’d be sure to go to the Halloween Dance this weekend.”

“Why?”

“You might have a better chance then,” MG says. “There’s always some favor or another she needs done during parties.”

The Halloween Dance, huh?

“Alright, thanks MG,” Josie says. “I’ll think about it.”

By the time Josie leaves her room late Saturday morning, orange and black streamers blanket the school’s previously plain interior. A spicy cinnamon scent wafts through the corridors, drawing her to the main hall where the set-up is still underway.

The top of the staircase provides a good view of the entire room, and Josie takes this chance to observe the thrumming chaos. The Events Committee bustles with excitement as they bring out more and more decorations, directed by their fearsome leader from her spot in the center of the whirlwind. As Penelope gives out her last orders, the werewolf alpha Jed approaches her.

Strange. He’s not part of the committee or even Penelope’s friend group. In fact, he rarely interacts with anyone outside the wolves.

But Josie’s way too far from Penelope and Jed’s conversation to make out what they’re saying. As far as she can tell, they seem to be discussing something serious. Penelope pinches the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes as she does, clearly frustrated with the dense as a rock Jed. She tries again, likely using even smaller and simpler words, before Jed finally nods his understanding.

Seeing her window of opportunity, Josie presses a hand to the wall, pulling at the threads of magic just beyond. She plucks a hair tie from her wrist and whispers the incantation, “Audite.” As Penelope and Jed finish up, Josie drops the enchanted hair tie down below to just behind where Beth H and Beth J are setting up a booth.

With that, Josie ducks down the hallway and back to her room. She needs a quiet space to maintain the spell for as long as she can.

Focusing, Josie picks up on the Beths’ voices, echoey and distant through the spell. They talk about their grades and other boring trivialities for a couple minutes, and just as Josie’s lamenting another failure, Penelope’s voice cuts in.

“Here’s the primary inventory,” Penelope says. “Make sure you double check the amount and labels tonight.”

“Will do,” Beth H says. “And I know. Keep the raffle money separate this time.”

The raffle? Josie frowns. Separate from what?

“Also…” Penelope lowers her voice, and Josie has to strain to catch the next bit, wringing out every last second she has left on the enchantment. “Don’t forget to keep an eye out for the headmaster and his daughters. We don’t need any more trouble from them.”

“Alright, but—” the answer garbles incomprehensibly as the spell ends.

Well, now Josie’s curiosity is beyond piqued. And that seals it, she’s definitely attending the party.

The rest of the day is spent on statistics homework and finishing up the diorama for an otherwise boring history class. An hour before the festivities begin, Josie cleans the clutter off her desk and prepares for the party in earnest. Since Lizzie still hasn’t forgiven Josie, a matching costume is out this year, which Josie isn’t all that upset about. But on the other hand, that leaves Josie with the full burden of making a choice.

Okay. It’s not that important. Josie just needs something simple, something inconspicuous, something that will conceal her identity. She rifles through the closet, digging deeper and deeper until she finds the costumes section.

Cat mask and black leotard? Pass, she’s too old for that.

Yellow jumpsuit? What was this for, Kill Bill? Oh no, it was for Lizzie’s ill-conceived ketchup and mustard suggestion. Definitely another pass.

And what about the blue overalls and green long-sleeved shirt? No, that is out for so many reasons. Firstly, it was last year’s costume, secondly, she doesn’t have Lizzie’s Mario to go with her, and thirdly, she’ll be too easily recognized.

(Fourth and lastly, does anyone actually wanna be Luigi?)

And then Josie sees a halo hanging on the back of the door next to a horned mask. A rejected idea from last year—angel and devil. She plucks the dark red mask off the hook and turns it over, examining it. Well, this could work.

By the time Josie arrives, the party is already in full swing, with crowds of dressed-up students strewn across the length of the hall. Fiddling with the zipper of her leather jacket, she surveys her surroundings as an upbeat pop song pulses in the background. The overhead chandeliers flicker, lending a darker than usual ambiance, which will suit her purposes tonight very well.

And based on that cursory appraisal, just about everyone at the school is here.

Josie spies Lizzie piling her plate full of brownies at the snack table, her father reluctantly chaperoning at the edge of the dance floor, and a dorky superhero she assumes to be MG based on his hair hanging near the punch bowl. With a more discerning eye, Josie does another sweep, endeavoring to pick out members of the committee. Eventually, she spots Marcy and Penelope by the stage, deep in discussion.

They’re far enough that Josie has a little time to snoop. She ambles over to the raffle booth, honing in on the interaction between Beth J and Alyssa Chang, dressed as a zombie and Lara Croft respectively.

“—dollars short,” Beth’s telling Alyssa.

They take subtle notice of Josie’s presence, eyes ever so briefly glancing over to her. Josie schools her expression into one of perfect innocence, the effectiveness of it probably lost under the full face mask.

“Fine,” Alyssa says, retrieving money from her purse. She uses her hand to cover the amount as she slides it over to Beth.

That’s already suspicious as hell, and Josie’s sure it’s way too much for a raffle ticket, which are one per person and going for two dollars each. In this case, it’s not possible to be dollars short unless Alyssa handed Beth literally no money first. What kind of scam is this?

Beth crouches down to reach for something under the booth table, rummaging around for a few seconds before handing Alyssa a ticket and, weirdly, a pen.

After slipping the items into her purse, Alyssa spins around to face Josie, remarking, “Funny costume.”

Unsure of how to react, Josie pulls her long, crimson cape to the side and gives a flourishing half-bow. Self-loathing floods through her—why did she do that of all things?—and she’s once again glad to have her face obscured.

For her part, Alyssa just laughs it off and maneuvers past Josie, disappearing into the crowd.

“Raffle ticket?” Beth asks, flat and unperturbed.

Maybe strange things happen around this booth all the time. That thought makes Josie feel marginally better.

“Sure,” Josie says. A beat too late, she wonders if she should’ve disguised her voice. She tries again, speaking lower and raspier. “Sure, I’ll take one.”

As Beth gets the roll out, Josie checks the poster to see what the prize is. Five lucky winners get to go on a day-long field trip to the local aquarium, with all proceeds being donated to the foundation. Solid prize.

Josie exchanges two crisp one-dollar bills for the blue ticket but doesn’t get a pen for her trouble. Clearing her throat, she asks, “No pen?”

Beth narrows her eyes. “What’s your name?”

Shit.

“Lucifer,” Josie says, for lack of ideas.

“Your actual name, smartass.” Unamused, Beth places her hands on her hips and glares.

Josie angles her head, feigning like something’s caught her attention or someone’s calling her name. Her heart beats loud enough that she can hear it in her ears as she lies through her teeth. “I’ll be back, one second.”

Fleeing, she wills herself not to look back and check for Beth’s reaction.

Mm… not her best work.

Once more, Josie navigates the perilous sea of people as she makes her way back to the staircase. She needs to take inventory of everyone’s whereabouts again.

But as she reaches the top landing, she nearly runs into Jed, who’s dressed up like a photographer with a little vest and large camera. He’s too focused looking through the lens at the crowd below to even bother moving out of Josie’s way. At first, Josie admires his commitment to his costume, but then she follows his line of sight towards the stage, where Penelope has just turned away. Is that coincidence or something more?

Paying Josie as little attention as he usually does, Jed pivots and heads out the big double doors.

Okay, so that was suspicious as hell. Intrigued, Josie hurries after him before he disappears completely from sight, following as discreetly as someone wearing combat boots can. Fewer and fewer people occupy the halls as they head away from the party, past the bathrooms, past the dorms even. Where could he possibly be going?

Her confusion only grows as he stops at one of the classrooms, pulling at the necklace he’s wearing to retrieve the large key at its end. Unlocking the door, he slips into the room, shutting it firmly behind him.

Josie leans against one of the hallway radiators and considers what the possibilities are here. A, Penelope asked Jed to break into the classroom to change her grade. B, Jed and Penelope jointly planned a prank or surprise for—Josie checks the classroom number—Mr. Higgins. Or maybe even C, completely independent from Penelope, Jed’s decided to…? Okay, Josie’s out of ideas.

What she does next is probably inadvisable, but she feels so close to the answers that have dangled just out of reach all day. She sidles up against the door, hoping to hear something, anything that’ll give away what he’s up to in there.

The loud thump of the bass from the party is still audible, even from here, and Josie strains to tune it out. Finally, she catches an unmistakable click, then another and another. The realization dawns on her a moment later—Jed’s taking pictures.

Wait, Jed’s taking pictures? Of what?

Okay, she has to see what’s on his camera. But, she muses, he’s not going to just agree to it for no reason.

As she ponders, Josie tries to scratch her nose and is impeded for the fifth time tonight by her costume choice. Frustrated, she pulls the mask off, ready to toss it in the nearest trash can when she’s struck with an idea.

Well, it’ll take a very strong illusion spell and a lot of luck, but Halloween’s the best time to pull it off.

Five minutes later, while hurrying to the east wing bathroom, Josie can’t believe her plan actually worked. But the black spidery veins and glowing infernal eyes she’d donned alongside the mask had been surprisingly realistic. And that had luckily been enough to convince Jed, who nearly collapsed in shock when she rounded on him. When she’d left him, he was curled in a ball, whimpering and willing to renounce all his sins. Hopefully, he’ll recover, and if not… well they employ Ms. Tig for a reason.

Prize in hand, Josie pushes her way into the stall furthest from the entrance, discarding Jed’s vest on her way in. In the moment, she figured that only taking his camera would’ve revealed her motives, but now on second thought…

Whatever, time to see what’s on this camera. Josie powers on the display and sees what looks like a chemistry exam. More specifically, the answer key to a chemistry exam. She clicks the back button, only to find another page in the key and another and another. Just how long is this exam?

At the end of the string are photos of the party, which were clearly taken with care and purpose. They’re actually pretty good, Josie notes with surprise. She’ll have to remember to return the camera tomorrow.

She shakes her head. Well, that’s beside the point. Anyway, this is progress—granted, not quite a smoking gun—but at least now she knows what she’s investigating. Just one more slip up from Penelope or her flunkies, and Josie will have her dead to rights.

Josie spends the next few hours moving from corner to corner of the party, hoping to spy or overhear something useful. It’s much harder than she expects, and as the evening is crawling towards the end, she’s suspecting the committee’s caught on to her disguise, judging by their pointed looks and the way they clam up right after.

By the time the raffle winners are being announced, Josie debates between swapping costumes or calling it a night.

“7512,” her father repeats, looking out into the crowd. “Check your ticket, folks. The wonders of the ocean are at risk here.”

Oh, right. Josie rummages through her jacket pockets, searching for hers. No one’s stepping forward, and she has this panicky feeling she knows why.

“Last chance. 7512.”

Finally, Josie retrieves the little blue stub and finds the four numbers: 7512. Huh. Hand shooting up, she catches her father’s attention and wades forward.

“Congrats to our fourth lucky winner,” he says to a smatter of awkward applause, taking the ticket from her and examining it. He nods, handing it back, and gestures towards the side of the stage.

Josie heads that way, steps slowing as she sees who is standing there expectantly. Dressed in long black robes and a stereotypically pointy hat and looking every bit a generic evil witch, Penelope slants a taunting smirk. Did she somehow…?

“Name?” Penelope asks, poised to jot it down next to the first three entries.

If Penelope wants to know Josie’s identity, she’s going to have to work a little harder than that. Josie returns an equally insincere smile before once again remembering the mask in the way.

“Put down Pedro,” Josie says, pitching her voice darker and rougher. “He loves the turtles.”

Penelope keeps her detached demeanor, writing the name as Josie directed, and moves on to the last winner as they descend the stage steps.

Turning, Josie wonders if it was just in her head. Maybe she’s spent too much time in this deceptive mindset, and she’s becoming paranoid. That means it’s probably time to head out. The resuming music is more ballad than bop anyway, signaling slow dances and the close of the party.

“Hey.”

A tap on Josie’s shoulder gets her attention. She swivels back, coming face to face with a determined Penelope, her singular focus all on Josie. Okay, maybe not so paranoid after all.

“I’ve always wanted to dance with the devil,” Penelope says, tilting her head towards the dance floor. Her eyes sparkle with an intent Josie does not trust even a little. “Help me make that dream a reality?”

It’s not that Josie means to stare blankly in response. But she simply doesn’t know how else to react.

Penelope fiddles with the charms on her necklace, her confidence faltering for the first time.

“Uhm, sure,” Josie finally manages, despite the fact that this is realistically a poor decision. But she somehow doesn’t have the heart to let down even an adversary. If she only had a spine, she laments.

She lets Penelope lead her around the side of the stage to where their other classmates are currently swaying in time to the music. Belatedly and with a hint of dismay, Josie realizes a really slow song is playing. As she’s considering the ramifications of straight up running away, Penelope holds out a hand, the corner of her mouth quirking up challengingly.

Fine. If this is just a game, then Josie’s not about to lose.

Josie takes the proffered hand and wraps her other arm around Penelope’s waist, pulling her in close. Surprise flits across Penelope’s face, and a thrill runs through Josie, seeing the usually unflappable Penelope miss a step. Penelope quickly regains her composure, threading her arms around Josie’s neck and slipping into muted amusement as they match the movements of the couples around them.

Without wasting any more time, Penelope skips the small talk, noting, “You’ve been busy tonight, sticking your nose and horns where they don’t belong.”

There’s probably no point in denying it, but Josie doesn’t quite answer yet. The less she says, the smaller the chance that she gives her hand away.

“What’s your end goal?” Penelope asks, sickly sweet.

Josie shrugs. “Who says I have an end goal?”

“So you’re just sowing a little chaos then?”

Honestly, Josie can probably stop with the whole ruse now. The costume was just to get within listening distance of committee members without triggering wariness and caution, and that’s clearly over now. But Penelope’s made her jump through so many hoops, Josie wants to return the favor.

“I’ve been trying to have fun. It’s a party after all.” Josie gestures at the streamers and stage. “Why, what’s making you so nervous?”

“I’m not nervous,” Penelope says with an airy laugh, “but I do think it’s cute you’re trying to interfere.”

How she manages to make that sound on the edge of patronizing and flirty is beyond Josie.

And then Penelope trails her right hand along Josie’s jaw, fingers settling against the edge of the mask. Josie brings a hand up to cover Penelope’s, stilling the motion. There’s no threat really, but Josie’s heart is beating faster than it has any right to.

“Who are you really?” Penelope asks coolly, looking up at Josie.

Josie swallows, loosening her grip. “I’m sure you can guess.”

Penelope slides her hand down to rest on Josie’s shoulder, brow furrowing in concentration. “Well, you’re not a wolf, you wouldn’t mess with your new alpha. And while you definitely look devilish, it’s certainly not enough to get Jed blubbering as he was. So either you pulled off one of the toughest vamp tricks, getting inside his mind, or you’re a witch with a knack for illusions.”

Oh, she’s really trying to guess.

“None of the vamps here are that strong,” Penelope continues. “And of the witches, I can only think of a handful who’d try to mess with me.” She purses her lips, considering, before she whittles her options down further. “You’re not Alyssa Chang, because Beth J saw the two of you interact. You’re not Hope Mikaelson, you’re too tall and actually at this party. And you’re not Lizzie Saltzman, because you haven’t insulted my costume even once yet.”

At the mention of her sister, Josie attempts a misdirect. “Well, I like your costume.”

Penelope lets a semblance of a smile through. “See, way too polite.”

“Sounds like you have me all figured out then.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’ve gotta be the other Saltzman,” Penelope says, light, “but surely she’s too much of a goody two-shoes for all the things you got up to tonight.”

The provocation is thinly veiled at best, but the joke’s on Penelope; Josie doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with being a goody two-shoes. In fact, teenage rebellion is so common that rule following might actually qualify as radical action on her part. Somehow her mouth still says, “Well, I have you figured out too.”

“Yeah?” Penelope raises an eyebrow.

Josie presses her lips together, indicating subtly at the people around them. “I don’t think you want me to say it here.”

Penelope wrinkles her nose, equal parts assessing and suspicious. “Fine.” She grasps the edge of Josie’s left sleeve, leading them off the dance floor and down the hallway.

Before Josie can protest, Penelope pulls her into the nearby supply closet and shuts the door behind them in two swift moves. Only the slat of light coming in from under the door cuts through the darkness. Penelope deftly finds the switch, and the overhead lightbulb crackles to dim life.

It seems ridiculous to speak with the mask on for any longer, so Josie finally sets it aside, the snarling visage face down on a stack of three-ring binders. Penelope merely lifts her chin, not even a flicker of surprise that her deduction was right.

“Go on then,” Penelope says. “What do you think you’ve figured out?”

Josie crosses her arms and gets right to it. “I know about your side business.”

“My side business?”

“Yeah, you’re selling test answers,” Josie says, forcing the lingering doubts away.

That has to be it, right? Jed’s pictures were of test keys, so there aren’t many other options. A voice in the back of her mind pipes up, but how does the raffle fit into all of this? Josie bats that thought away; the details don’t really matter.

Penelope keeps carefully neutral, not giving anything away. “And how am I doing that?”

Oh, maybe they do matter.

Josie will just have to start with what she knows for sure. “While everyone’s busy with the dance, especially the chaperoning staff, you had Jed break into the classrooms and offices and take pictures of the answer keys.”

“Sounds like that’s on Jed,” Penelope says, dismissing the allegation with a blasé wave of her hand.

“Well, you also overcharge on raffle…” And then, Josie finally figures it out, the disparate pieces coming together in a satisfying click. Through a begrudging smile she says, “You use the raffle to cover your transactions, selling pens that I’m pretty sure are loaded with the test answers. I’d just have to grab one from under the raffle booth and siphon to confirm that.”

Still, Penelope doesn’t waver, just listens patiently.

“Your scapegoat Jed’s no witch, and I doubt anyone will believe he’s the mastermind behind anything at all.” Josie points an accusing finger at Penelope and says, “But you. Now that I believe.”

Penelope grins, seeming impressed and even pleased for some reason. Then, blithely, she says, “You got me.”

“That’s all this is for?” Josie asks scornfully. “Making a buck off lazy, dumb people?”

“Hey, don’t go knocking lazy and dumb people. Some of them... have a lot of money.”

Josie rolls her eyes. “Very funny.”

“I live to amuse,” Penelope mocks.

Josie’s initial plan had been to find out what would appeal to Penelope, to discover what she’d be willing to barter for. But now, seeing Penelope’s infuriatingly constant self-assurance on display, Josie thinks… fuck bribery, she’s got something better.

“Well,” Josie says, words coming quiet and deadly, “I’m sure my dad will find it equally amusing.”

Penelope blinks, taken aback. “Are you blackmailing me?”

“No, I’m incentivizing you,” Josie says, blackmailing the shit out of her.

Penelope bursts into laughter, more genuine than Josie’s ever seen her. It’s weird, and Josie has no idea how she’s elicited that reaction.

“Fine, maybe I am,” Josie admits aloud. “But think of it like this: Lizzie joining the committee is basically an overhead expense.”

That wrings a few more chuckles from Penelope. “Overhead expense? Who are you?”

Josie doesn’t dignify that with a response, clenching her jaw until Penelope’s amusement fades, replaced by something Josie might call respect if she didn’t know any better. Penelope bites at her lower lip as she mulls over the situation.

If even this fails, then Josie’s doomed to a life of groveling. Luckily, she’s had some practice in that art, but still, it is bleak.

But then Penelope nods. “Alright, fine. Lizzie can join.”

And just like that, the future of waiting hand and foot on her sister dissipates. Josie brightens, filling with hope and relief. She actually succeeded?

“One stipulation,” Penelope says, and Josie crashes right back down.

Dread collects in the pit of Josie’s stomach, inducing a low-grade nausea. She’s not built for stress, and tonight has had that in spades.

Penelope sighs, exaggerating the action, and softens her sharp smile. “It’ll only work if you also join. I’m down Marcy and Kate after all. Courtesy of you, I’m suspecting.”

Josie frowns as the dread bleeds into suspicion, asking, “What would I have to do?”

“Mostly handle your sister, that’s a full-time job as far as I can tell,” Penelope says. “But you’re welcome to take part in any of the other activities if you’d like.”

Damn Penelope. Why can’t she just let Josie have this?

“I… I don’t know,” Josie mutters. It’s a big commitment, and she just renewed a year-long subscription of Teen Witch. She doesn’t really have room to take on another thing.

“So you went to all that trouble just to back out now?” Penelope asks, brows knitting in disbelief.

“I should discuss it with Lizzie first.”

With a scoff, Penelope says, “Okay, sure. Let me know tomorrow then.” She brushes by, one hand ready on the doorknob, before pausing to really look at Josie.

Josie stares back, wondering what Penelope’s trying to do. Intimidation tactic? Soul-searching? Obscure witchcraft?

After a beat, Penelope shakes her head, saying, “I don’t get you at all.”

Then, she shrugs and leaves.

That was… bizarre.

Anyway, it’s been a long day, and Josie’s ready to collapse into bed and not get up for hours. She lets out one long exhale and retrieves her mask. When she gets back to her room, she traces the horns with her fingertips and thinks back to Penelope’s surprise and subsequent surrender.

And for the first time in awhile, Josie feels an honest sense of accomplishment.

The student body is split between sluggish and hyper the next morning—the typical post-party vibe. Josie sits firmly in the former category as she shuffles to the library, limbs heavy with exhaustion, and plops onto one of the bean bag chairs. She’s meant to meet with and tutor some of the younger students, but as usual, they’re running late. Great, she sinks further down.

As she’s fighting the drift into an early nap, she notices something out of the corner of her eye.

Jack, one of the junior werewolves, has a familiar looking pen in his hand. It’s basically an exact copy of the one Beth J slipped to Alyssa at the party, slim and blue with a ring of white around the top.

How does the magic work, Josie wonders. How many of them are in circulation? And do the teachers really not care or realize?

Maybe she should’ve told Lizzie the full story last night, but when the words, “Penelope finally said yes,” left Josie’s lips, well that was all Lizzie cared about. It’s probably for the best, though. Lizzie might’ve decided to confront Penelope, and then all of Josie’s hard work would be down the drain.

Big eyes and extremely curly locks peer over her. “Hey, Josie,” Pedro says, beaming. “Can you help me with my math homework?”

Josie snaps out of her thoughts with a hard blink. “Oh. Yeah, of course.”

“Cool.” He rummages through his backpack and hums a quiet but playful tune, skipping over to the seat opposite hers.

“You seem very happy,” Josie notes with an encouraging smile. “Did you have a good time yesterday?”

“It was awesome!” he enthuses. “I got so much candy, and I get to go to the aquarium next week.”

Oh, that’s right, the raffle prize. Josie sits up straight as a prideful feeling spreads through her, filling her with warmth.

“Anyway, uhm, here’s what we’re working on in class,” Pedro says, handing her a sheet of fraction questions.

Josie takes a look over the questions, getting ready to go through them one by one with Pedro.

See, some people—not naming names—use their cunning and spare time to make a couple dollars on the side while eroding academic integrity and uplifting the undeserving. But not Josie. She takes those tools and uses them for good. To better the world. To bring joy to children.

After the tutoring session ends, Josie debates whether or not it’s time to deliver Lizzie’s decision to Penelope. There’s a part of her that still doesn’t really wanna join, but Lizzie had insisted it was a small price to pay. Ugh, Josie can’t put this off forever, eventually Penelope or Lizzie will seek her out and interrogate her about it.

Rip it off like a bandaid, she decides and sets off for Penelope’s room.

Josie knocks twice, scanning the bulletin board to her right as she waits. Just as she gets to the newsletter for the month, the door opens and Penelope welcomes her in with a sweeping gesture of her arms.

Stepping forward, Josie takes in the room with a moderate amount of curiosity. Though Hope has the only true single, Penelope’s roommate graduated last year, leaving her the entire room until a new student enrolls. A couple wiccan posters and dozens of photos line the walls, stopping at the edge of a crowded bookshelf and continuing around the smatter of small succulents sitting atop Penelope’s dresser.

“Well?” Penelope prompts and leans against the vanity in the corner.

“I talked it over with Lizzie, and we accept,” Josie says, keeping things simple.

Penelope wryly shakes her head but doesn’t question it. “Great. We meet once a week on Thursday evenings in the dining hall.” She adds, “See you there.”

It’s an anticlimactic end to their series of machinations, and Josie feels a little off-kilter, waiting for the other shoe to drop. But whatever, it’s still an end. She moves towards the door, hand reaching out when—

“Oh, by the way,” Penelope says, drawing Josie’s attention back, “you definitely could’ve asked for way more.”

Brow furrowing, Josie scrutinizes Penelope’s cool, unreadable expression. What does that mean?

“If you’re going to blackmail someone, you should do it right.” Penelope shrugs. “You could have at least asked for freebies or a share of the profit.”

Josie lets out an incredulous laugh, facing Penelope fully. “Are you giving me advice on how to blackmail you?”

“Just a friendly tip.”

Sure. The gentle condescension in Penelope’s tone is more than Josie can stomach. Josie crosses her arms, scowling as she says, “Well, friendly tip, selling test answers is pretty tame. You could be doing so much more than that.”

Josie expects Penelope to come back with something snippy and cutting, but instead Penelope pushes off from the vanity, approaching Josie with an intrigued incline of her head.

“Yeah?” Penelope asks, “What’re you suggesting?”

Oh.

“Well,” Josie says, thoughts whirring to unexpected life, “regular supply orders come in every Monday morning, and I’ve signed for them the past two years. Gotten pretty close with the delivery driver, Paul.”

Penelope catches on immediately. “So, you want him to bring stuff in?”

“Yeah, stuff that you’re not allowed to have.”

“What, you wanna be weed dealers?” Penelope asks with a slight sneer.

“No, I meant contraband. Like spell ingredients, cellphones, that kind of stuff,” Josie says and realizes then that she’s actually given a real idea. Where the hell did that come from?

“Who would provide the product?” Penelope seems split between skeptical and thoughtful.

“I don’t know,” Josie admits, self-consciousness creeping up, “but I’m sure we could find some kid from Mystic Falls High who can get the non-magic stuff.” And then a defensive surge of confidence rises up. So what if this idea has a few holes in it? She clenches her jaw and says, “And if I had all the details down, I could just do it myself.”

“Fair enough,” Penelope says, hands held up as she backs off. Her eyes dart back and forth as she thinks through Josie’s suggestion.

Well, this took an unexpected turn. Josie came in expecting to deliver a simple answer, and now they’re becoming partners in crime? But she can’t deny the burn of pleasure deep in her chest, seeing Penelope seriously consider this scheme, giving this possibility a chance.

“Alright, let me reach out to some people,” Penelope says finally, a small smile peeking through. “I’m willing to try something new.”

Two weeks of intricate logistics and careful calculations fly by, and Josie barely notices the mundane flurry of classes and homework each day. Penelope had advised against bringing more people in on the plan, which is actually a relief for Josie. The more people who know Josie’s involved with this kind of stuff, the likelier that it’ll get back to Lizzie or their dad. But it’s meant a lot of discreet meetings with Penelope, and Josie’s never spent so much time with a classmate not related to her.

Penelope hasn’t been nicer, exactly, but Josie is quickly learning the difference between her lighthearted teasing and her actual bitchiness. Maybe Josie should just be satisfied that they haven’t killed each other yet. Besides, the true test of this partnership comes in the form of a trial run of their project—a lone shipment of belladonna and wormwood.

Monday morning, Josie wakes extra early, stomach churning with anxiety and excitement, up and out of her room before Lizzie has even stirred. There’s still half an hour until she’s meant to meet with Penelope in the student lounge, and not for the first time, Josie wishes she had any amount of chill. Penelope’s clearly had plenty of practice in degeneracy, so it’s probably not a big deal for her, but Josie is the headmaster’s daughter. There’s more at risk here for her.

Josie checks her watch, fiddles with the button on her sleeve, taps her foot against the hardwood floors. The seconds drag, as if time itself is slowing down. Great. She stands. But the minutes don’t pass any faster. She sits.

“Good morning, Josie.”

Startled, Josie looks across the room to see Dorian passing through the lounge. She gives an awkward wave and says, “Morning, Dorian.”

A beat too late, Josie realizes where he’s headed. That direction only leads to the kitchen and the staff entrance where the trucks usually unload. Scrambling to her feet, she hurries after him, hand outreached and trying to think of the right thing to say when she catches up.

“How’s your day going?” Josie finally settles on asking as they reach the kitchen.

“Well, it’s just started, I guess,” Dorian says, eyebrows raising in mild surprise. That’s fair, Josie doesn’t usually seek him out first thing in the morning or at all. “But so far I can’t complain.”

“You just grabbing some breakfast?” she asks with a peek at her watch. There’s still fifteen minutes until she’s supposed to meet up with Penelope and twenty minutes until the shipment arrives.

“Getting some coffee actually,” he says, gesturing to the nearby coffee pot, “and waiting for the week’s delivery. I’ve got some books coming in.”

Oh, no. Their shipment is coming, hidden in a hollowed out book.

A few scenarios flash before Josie’s eyes—none of them good. But Dorian’s looking at her, waiting for a response, so she tamps down on her panic.

“That makes sense,” Josie says as evenly as she can muster. Glancing around, she tries to come up with a quick and inconspicuous exit, pausing at the recently washed mugs on the counter. “I just remembered I have a couple dirty cups in my room, I’m going to grab them. Be back in a jiff.”

“O…kay.”

Good enough. Josie scampers off—first things first, she has to find Penelope and let her know about this unforeseen obstacle. No need to freak out, Josie reminds herself, Penelope will know what to do.

“Oh, shit,” Penelope says, rubbing at her eyes blearily as Josie gives her the news, hissed across Penelope’s doorstep. “What do we do?”

“You don’t know?” Josie’s voice squeaks at the last word.

“My brain’s still coming online.” Penelope yawns, pulling at the sleeves of her dark blue silky pajama top. “Give me a second, I gotta change and then we’ll go solve this.”

“Fine,” Josie says, heaving a sigh, and backs up against the adjacent wall as Penelope shuts her door.

No problem, Penelope had sounded pretty sure they could fix it. They’ll just distract Dorian with something. Like a fire. Or a fight. Easy. Or is that too risky, too attention grabbing? Sure, they might get in trouble for a destructive distraction, but it’s gotta be better than killing their scheme before it’s had a chance to live.

Mercifully, Penelope’s door opens again, and Penelope steps out, dressed in her navy and white uniform, blouse slightly askew. Unthinking, Josie reaches out to flip Penelope’s jacket collar down, smoothing it out with the tips of her fingers. That was a normal thing to do, right? Josie hastily withdraws her hand and arm.

“Thanks,” Penelope says, looking down and laughing a little. She strides forward without any more commentary, clearly expecting Josie to follow.

“So, what’s the plan?” Josie asks, two steps behind her.

“You keep Dorian occupied while I go incite an argument in the library. Shouldn’t be too hard. And I’ll come running in, saying, ‘Oh, my god, they’re gonna kill each other.’ That should get him out of there quick.”

“Okay.” Josie nods.

“Shit,” Penelope swears, tugging Josie forward by the wrist. Penelope points ahead, and Josie follows her direction to the kitchen, where Paul is unloading what look to be the last few boxes. Dorian’s bent over several of the larger boxes, examining the labels.

“Shit,” Josie echoes.

“New plan,” Penelope says.

Josie looks at Penelope, seeing a numb panic etched across her features. Josie prompts, “Yeah?”

Penelope presses her lips together. “How do you feel about throwing your sister under the bus?”

“No,” Josie answers, refusal hard and resolute, which doesn’t surprise either of them.

“Well, I could blind him, but—”

They don’t have time for this. Josie yanks Penelope’s arm and makes a beeline for the kitchen, ignoring the in-tow Penelope’s grumbling protest. At the entryway, Josie pushes Penelope to the side, out of sight of the kitchen. She jogs in, shuffling up behind Dorian, and he turns his head at the sound of her footsteps.

“Oh look, the delivery’s early today,” Josie says, injecting a lethal amount of cheeriness into her tone.

“Yep. Don’t worry, I signed for it.” Dorian returns his attention to the delivery, eyes falling to a large tome resting on top of one of the boxes at the same time Josie spots it. As he bends to retrieve it, he wonders, “What is this?”

Fuck, that must be the shipment.

“Wait,” Josie says, sharp with urgency.

Dorian pauses, hands out in mid-air.

“It’s cursed,” she blurts out.

In many ways, that was not the ideal thing to say. But damn it, she’s said it.

“What?” Dorian blinks twice, processing what she’s said before furrowing his brow in either disbelief or outright confusion.

“That book is cursed,” Josie repeats. She can’t take it back, so she’s going to have to commit.

“I’m sure it’s fine,” he says, eyes shifting like he’s trying to gauge whether or not Josie’s joking or lying. And then he’s bending back down, reaching for the book.

Just as Josie opens her mouth, ready to pour out more lies, she hears a faint whisper from the hall and something prickles the back of her neck. Oh, Penelope must be casting a spell around the corner.

“I don’t know, it could be pretty serious,” Josie says, way louder than necessary, but she needs to cover for Penelope’s incantation. “Remember when you told us about the Hope Diamond curse? And how some French witches placed a hex on it during the revolution that caused anyone who touched it to wither? Withering seems like a definitively bad thing, in my opinion.”

“I do remember,” Dorian says, tome in hand now, showing it to her like see, it’s all fine. “I’m glad to hear you remember that too. Means some of the students here do actually listen to me.”

“Of course,” Josie says, clenching her jittery hands into fists. What did Penelope’s spell do?

Dorian touches the cover, ready to crack the tome open—

A ghostly whisper seems to rise up from the book, hissing, “Omnis qui librum hunc aperit…”

“Oh, damn,” Dorian yelps, dropping it on the counter with a loud thump.

Josie looks about, thinking as fast as she can, and picks up an empty orange crate. She slams it down over the book and scoops it up.

“I’m going to get this to my dad,” Josie says through shaky exhales.

“Mhm.” Dorian nods like a bobblehead, a touch chastised that he’d ignored her warning.

Okay, time to get the hell out. Penelope must have the same idea, because as Josie emerges into the hall, she’s nowhere to be found. Good, they’re on the same page.

Hours later, after more lies and then the usual classes and dinner, Josie and Penelope meet back up in Penelope’s room, giddy with success. Penelope takes the tome from Josie, placing it in the drawer of her desk for safekeeping.

Then, Penelope sets out a couple tall glasses on her dresser and procures a bottle of champagne from seemingly out of nowhere. This room must have a thousand hiding places, Josie muses as Penelope pours them each a glass.

“So, how’d you cover your tracks with your dad?” Penelope asks, handing the drink to Josie and leaning in with interest.

Tipping the glass, Josie gets a small taste and swallows, trying really hard not to give away that it’s her first time having champagne, and says, “I said someone was pranking me, and I didn’t need my headmaster father stepping in to make it worse.”

Penelope nods in approval, the corners of her mouth lifting as she watches Josie take another sip. Penelope remarks, “I guess we make an okay team.”

“Yeah,” Josie says, side-eyeing Penelope with caution. “I guess we do.”

“Well, if you’re still up for it, I think we can green light this little operation.” Penelope perches on the back of her desk chair.

“Really?”

A sly smile graces Penelope’s face. “Would I lie to you?”

“Yes,” Josie answers without hesitation. “At every opportunity. Guaranteed.”

Penelope laughs, the corners of her eyes crinkling, and raises her glass towards Josie. “To a deceitful but fruitful endeavor then.”

Despite herself, Josie smiles into the next sip of the light and tart champagne. As she meets Penelope’s gaze, the day’s events finally sink in, and Josie decides she likes this new taste.

As the last of the leaves fall, the first snow arrives in gentle fashion. The days grow cold and the nights stretch long, and Josie and Penelope perfect their routine, ironing out the wrinkles in their plot until they’re working as one well-oiled machine.

The first cut of the money is more than Josie’s ever had just for herself, and to be honest, she has no clue what to do with it. For the time being, she keeps the bills hidden in her special hiding place—in the back garden wall, behind a loose, magically-warded brick. Who knows, maybe she’ll add it to her college fund.

It’s all going well—Josie is back in Lizzie’s good graces, Penelope is more bearable than Josie initially anticipated, and Josie and Lizzie’s mom is coming home for the holidays after a long recruitment stint in South America. Which, of course, means that this can’t last.

“You’re up to something,” Lizzie accuses one Friday evening as she returns to their shared bedroom.

“What?” Josie asks.

Lizzie breezes by, dumping her coat and backpack in the corner. “You and Penelope. You guys are always whispering during meetings and waking up early to do I-don’t-know-what.”

Alright, that’s actually pretty surprising. Usually it takes a lot for Lizzie to notice something outside of her own life. What happened to that reliable obliviousness?

“Well,” Josie says, knowing she has to be extra careful here, “it’s just nice having someone else to talk to sometimes.”

“So, what, you’re close with her now?” Lizzie asks, narrowing her eyes. “When did that happen?”

“Not really, we’re like acquaintances,” Josie qualifies. This must be how MG felt when she interrogated him about Penelope. “We ended up talking a bit when I got you on the committee. And now we hang out occasionally.”

“Yeah, I don’t buy that,” Lizzie says sourly.

Josie needs a distraction or a scapegoat. If she can somehow pin this on Hope… that would be the optimal solution.

“It’s fine.” Lizzie sniffs. “You’ve got new friends, or whatever.”

Oh, this is bad.

“We need to cool off on the shipments,” Josie says, hushed, even though she and Penelope are the only ones in this half of the library.

Penelope turns serious, the corner of her mouth pinching with concern.

“Lizzie’s suspicious. She confronted me yesterday, saying we were up to something.” Josie sneaks a few peeks over Penelope’s shoulder, to be sure that Lizzie’s not hiding around the corner or something.

“You think she’d tell on us if she found out?” Penelope asks.

“Yeah,” Josie says and crosses her arms, “or something even crazier.”

The whole thing is so typical Lizzie. Josie finally has something that’s just her own, and that will not stand.

Penelope clenches her jaw, considering Josie’s words and conflicted expression. Then, with a quirk of her eyebrows, Penelope says, “What if we let her take lead on the Winter Formal? That should keep her busy and distracted for the rest of the month.”

“Oh, that might actually work.”

It’s a simple, elegant solution. Josie’s half in awe of Penelope’s quick thinking and half berating herself for not seeing how obvious it was.

The dark cloud that’s been hanging over Josie’s head lifts now, giving way to lightness. If she has to name the feeling, it’s probably relief. The thing is, the schemes have given her something to look forward to each day, and she’s not ready for it to end just yet.

True to form, Lizzie takes to leading the Winter Formal like a hammer to a nail. Her laser focus terrorizes the other committee members, even causing Marcy to run out of a couple meetings with tears streaming down her face. (“Weak,” is what Lizzie had called her for that.) But with the distraction in full swing, Penelope and Josie are able to get two more shipments in for the month of December, so Marcy’s distress is quite generously compensated.

Penelope and Josie agree early on that the Winter Formal will be too closely monitored by the ever watchful Lizzie for any hijinks or plots, and so, for the first time all year, Josie attends a party just because.

A couple hours before the event, Josie brings out the green dress her mom bought her last year and spends a longer than necessary amount of time debating which pair of earrings will make her seem the most fun. She ends up choosing the small silver snowflakes, which are maybe a bit basic, but she figures one can only fight their true nature for so long.

As Josie steps out of her room and down the hallway, she has to admit Lizzie’s efforts have totally paid off. An ornate fountain and even more lavish ice sculpture occupy the center of what used to be the cafeteria and main hall, now entirely transformed into an extravagant ballroom and stage. The lightest of magical flurries sprinkle down from the ceiling, dusting the decked out hall in a thin layer of white and blue, giving the place an extra magical feel.

Where exactly did Lizzie find the budget for this? Josie shakes her head, a rueful smile curving across her lips as she heads down the staircase.

On cue, the lady of the hour bustles by, MG trailing after her, no doubt having been roped into assisting. Josie lifts a hand to greet her sister but is rebuffed with a terse, “Not now.”

Fair enough.

MG slants a sympathetic smile, but honestly, Josie has a feeling he’ll need that sympathy more than her by the end of tonight.

“MG,” Lizzie barks, beckoning him with vigor.

Perhaps he’ll need it even sooner than that.

“Kind of frightening,” comes Penelope’s voice from behind Josie.

Josie turns, witty comeback already forming in her mind, but the thought melts away—

Penelope descends the last few stairs, silver a-line skirt swishing with each step, and Josie watches, mesmerized by the glittery material. It’s not like Penelope looks that different from usual; she still has her trademark smug half-smile and devil-may-care air about her. But under the soft, enchanting lamplight, she seems to glow, brightening the room with her entrance.

As Penelope adjusts the fur wrap draped across the straps of her halter top, envy flares in Josie’s chest. Somehow, Penelope makes everything look easy, and Josie wishes she could have even a sliver of that confidence. Josie swallows, pushing the feeling away before it can spread, and tries to think of the right thing to say.

“Yeah,” Josie says, finding her voice at last. Realizing she’s not given much of an answer, she tacks on a pretty unnecessary, “You get used to it.”

“Well, I like your dress.” Penelope lounges against the end of the banister, delivering the compliment with a finesse Josie can’t hope to match. “Really pretty.”

Ugh. Diabolical. Now, whatever Josie has to say will sound less genuine.

“Thanks,” Josie mutters and crosses her arms self-consciously. “You look nice too.”

It comes out wrong, words heavy and dark.

“Eesh, that bad?” Penelope laughs, looking down at herself questioningly.

“No,” Josie hurries to say. Shit, she sounded like a total bitch. “No, actually you look great. I’m just…”

Penelope raises an eyebrow, waiting for the end to that sentence.

“I’m a little nervous,” Josie answers, maybe too honestly, and shies away. “I just haven’t been to many parties by myself, sorry.”

“Hey,” Penelope says, surprising Josie by placing a hand on Josie’s arm, “you’re not here by yourself.”

Josie looks up, trying to gauge Penelope’s sincerity, a little surprised to find real earnestness there. What has Josie done to deserve this kind of consideration? She has no idea what to do or say in response.

Thankfully, Penelope continues, “Lizzie’s in charge and our ‘side projects’ are on hold, so we both get to relax for once.” The corners of her eyes crinkle as she smiles, tone still gentle as she adds, “We can hang out, stuff our faces, make fun of the teachers. That’s not so bad, right?”

A delicate warmth seeps into Josie’s body, Penelope’s kindness soothing the stinging anxiety away.

“That does sound nice,” Josie admits, letting her shoulders slump back down as the tension seeps out.

“Come on, party’s starting,” Penelope says, holding one hand out to Josie. “Let’s leave Lizzie’s line of sight before she gives us some horrible task.”

As Josie takes Penelope’s hand, she spots Lizzie at the end of her lap around the room. Penelope and Josie dart behind one of the catering carts, stifling laughter as Lizzie stomps after the less fortunate Marcy.

The night passes in a blur of savory food, good conversation, and a little too much tequila. By the time the dance winds down, Josie’s cheeks are aching from talking and smiling too much, and it’s then that Penelope suggests hiding out in the pantry until the clean-up is over. Josie bobs her head in vigorous agreement—dodging responsibility has never sounded more appealing.

As the pantry door closes behind them, Penelope casts a quick sealing spell, to ward off any nosy or hungry intruders. Josie lowers herself to the floor and rests her head against a sack of rice on one of the lower shelves.

“You good?” Penelope asks as she drops to the space opposite Josie.

“Yeah, all good.” Josie makes a vague hand gesture, maybe a dismissive wave, maybe a thumbs up.

“Lightweight,” Penelope teases.

Josie chuckles and doesn’t bother defending herself. “Happily so.”

Penelope opens her mouth but quickly bites back her retort in favor of a small smirk. After a moment, she asks, “So, you going anywhere for winter break?”

Josie blinks, caught off guard by the sudden question about her life. “Well, usually we visit family friends, but since my mom’s been traveling so much, we’ll probably just stay here this year with the kids who have nowhere to go.”

“Sounds nice.” Penelope tilts her head to the side. “Boring, sure, but nice.”

“Yeah, well,” Josie says and gives what might pass for a shrug if she were sitting properly. She’s not really worried about a lack of excitement for herself per se, but Lizzie might decide to get suspicious again with all that downtime. “What about you?”

“Gonna visit some family in Jakarta,” Penelope replies, fingers drumming against the metal shelving. “With some luck we’ll be out of there before any blood is shed.”

Josie winces in sympathy. “That bad?”

Penelope shakes her head and cedes, “Nah, it can be fun too. When everyone’s the right amount of tipsy, it’s actually pretty bearable.”

Josie squints, confused. “So, you’re kind of excited then?”

“It’ll be good to see my grandma.” Penelope allows a half-smile as she elaborates, “I’m her only granddaughter and hands down her favorite grandchild. So, we’ve always been close.”

Not for the first time Josie wonders what it’s like to have an extended family. Grandparents and cousins and family reunions where there’s joy and exasperation in equal measure. Must be messy, must be nice.

“Well, I hope you have a great time catching up with her then,” Josie says, hoping the slight slur in her speech doesn’t take away from her sincerity.

“Thanks.” Penelope stretches her arms back, brushing against the wall of crates. “And you too, with your nice, boring break.”

Josie’s sluggish mind struggles to process the sum of the night’s events. She doesn’t quite understand how they’ve ended up here—well, physically, she remembers they walked right in, but this is the longest, most personal exchange she’s had with a classmate since… Since ever, technically.

“Are we like friends?” she asks half-jokingly. It’s kind of a pathetic question, and there isn’t any follow-up that will make it not. Still, she tries to explain her reasoning. “This feels like a friend conversation.”

Penelope lets out an exhale that sounds suspiciously like a snicker, only stopping it short when faced with Josie’s pitiful pout. With uncharacteristic benevolence, Penelope suppresses her grin and says, “Yeah, we’re friends.”

“Cool, cool.” Josie is acutely aware of how lame that sounds, but still a smile peeks through, betraying the surge of pride rising up.

“You’re going to really miss me over the break, aren’t you,” Penelope says, sounding supremely self-satisfied and not even having the decency to pitch it like a question.

With the nice moment dispelled, Josie scoffs. “I can’t believe I’m friends with a narcissist.”

“Yeah, you’re more used to being related, right?” Penelope returns way too quickly.

Josie shoots a glare, unamused with what Penelope clearly considers wit.

Penelope holds her hands up, the picture of innocence, and says, “Kidding.”

The sound of footsteps entering the kitchen cuts off Josie’s rebuke, and reflexively, they both look to the door. The distinct clatter of metal and ceramic leads Josie to believe it’s someone bringing in the dirty dishes. She sits up, newly alert.

“The champagne flutes had spots!” Lizzie’s unmistakable voice filters through. “And the philistine caterers put the salad forks on the wrong side.”

“I’m sure no one noticed,” comes the assuaging answer from her unlucky conversation partner—it takes Josie a second to recognize them as MG.

“I told them it’s a Winter Formal, not a soup kitchen,” Lizzie says scathingly. “But clearly, I’m the only person around here who has any sense of etiquette.”

Josie determinedly avoids meeting Penelope’s eyes as they serve as an unwitting audience to this dialogue. Pressing her lips together, Josie figures that Penelope must be feeling pretty vindicated right about now. And could Lizzie have had worse timing?

“Lizzie, tonight was a huge success,” MG says, stressing the last word. “It was elegant and beautiful, and everyone had so much fun.”

Poor guy, Josie thinks. Talking Lizzie down from the ledge is usually Josie’s job, but he’s filling in admirably.

Lizzie takes a deep breath, evening herself out. “You’re right. I should focus on the positives.”

“Exactly.”

“Tonight was a huge success. And it’s really proven that this school is nothing without me,” Lizzie says, and Josie can picture her ego swelling dangerously. “Thank you for the pep talk. Let’s go and get the rest of the dishes.”

As their chatter fades into the distance, Josie keeps her gaze fixed on the door still.

“Well…” Penelope trails off.

It’s all a little ridiculous. That realization gets Josie to crack a reluctant smile, finally facing Penelope, who is just barely holding her mirth back.

“Don’t,” Josie cautions.

At that, Penelope breaks, laughing so openly and uncontrollably that Josie finds herself joining in. Penelope wipes a few errant tears away, and a dizzying affection takes ahold of Josie, seeing Penelope like this. Josie shakes her head, dismissing the feeling as the last traces of booze leaving her system.

Winter break is as tranquil and banal as Penelope predicted, the school’s halls almost eerily empty with only a slim portion of the student population remaining. With the Saltzman-Forbes family unit reunited, Lizzie doesn’t give Josie’s extracurricular activities a second thought, and even Christmas is quieter than Josie expects.

It’s all very cozy and nice…

(Which is to say Penelope was infuriatingly right.

After two weeks of this peace, Josie does kind of miss the excitement Penelope brought to her life. And if she’s being totally honest, maybe even the girl herself. But only a little.)

When the school reopens in early January, Josie welcomes the rush of returning chaos, her classmates still high off their post-break cheer. Now the boredom has to break, and she’ll get to feel a sense of purpose and direction again.

But Josie doesn’t want to come off as eager or needy, so she resolves not to seek Penelope out until the end of the week—that’ll give Penelope time to settle back in at the very least. Josie’s willpower is tested almost immediately when she sees Penelope and the Beths catching up in the student lounge the first afternoon back. They seem pretty happy to be chatting amongst themselves, so Josie passes by with no more than an acknowledging nod.

Or at least, she plans to.

“Hey, Josie,” Penelope says, angling towards her. “How was your break?”

Josie skids to a stop just beyond the couch where Penelope is situated, three steps past a normal point to be conversing with them. Awkwardly twisting back, Josie answers, “Oh, you know.”

Penelope furrows her brow, puzzled. “Not really. That's why I asked.”

“My mom’s back,” Josie says, shrugging. “Uh, nothing much beyond that. How about you guys?”

“Boring,” Beth J says in a lifeless tone that indicates she’d rather be talking to almost anyone else.

Beth H nods. “Same.”

“No casualties, so we’ll count it as a win for me,” Penelope says with a warm smile that catches Josie off-guard.

That must be the reason that Josie says her next thought aloud: “Actually, I thought about you over the break.”

Penelope raises her eyebrows, and then it hits Josie how that sounds.

“I mean, about the operation and stuff,” Josie clarifies, like that’ll save her, like her cheeks aren’t flushing pink. “Like I have ideas and… yeah, more ideas.”

Across from Penelope, Beth H rolls her eyes, giving Beth J next to her a knowing look that Josie wishes she understood. It would be nice to know things once in a while.

“Cool,” Beth H says in near unison with Beth J. “Well, this is fascinating and all, but we’re gonna go unpack.”

“Your loss,” Penelope says sardonically.

The Beths clear out, maneuvering past an embarrassed Josie, and Penelope scoots over on the couch, gesturing for Josie to take a seat next to her. Josie checks the lounge, looking over the length of the room, and obliges only after confirming a distinct lack of Lizzie in the vicinity.

“Tell me more about these ideas.” Penelope props one elbow against the back of the sofa and rests her temple against that hand.

“Well, I was thinking, what’s something everyone here wants to do but can’t?”

Penelope mulls it over. “Go to class high.”

“Oh, sure. But also.” Josie lowers her voice to a whisper. “Sneak out.”

Penelope sways closer, drawn in by the quiet volume of Josie’s words and the tantalizingly new suggestion. “Like leave the grounds?”

“Yeah, Ms. Tig checks the perimeter spells every night before the younger kids’ bedtime,” Josie says with more confidence than she perhaps should possess. “We’d just have to disable or trick the spells temporarily.”

“I don’t know,” Penelope says, hesitating, “it sounds pretty high risk.”

For some reason, Josie feels the doubt like a personal rejection. With her best attempt to hide the prickling disappointment, Josie looks down, admitting, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

She must not do a great job of it, because Penelope adds, “Let’s do some research into it then. And if it’s not too difficult, then we can give it a go.”

Josie catches Penelope’s gaze, grateful for her willingness to try, and smiles.

“Okay, sounds good,” Josie says, almost shy.

“Library?” Penelope prompts.

“Library,” Josie confirms, standing and gesturing for Penelope to lead the way.

It takes a full month of research and experimentation for Josie and Penelope to figure out a way past the two boundary spells in place. Then they wait for Josie’s mom—the only adult on campus with super hearing—to leave on another recruitment trip before taking their method out for a test run.

At midnight, the two of them sneak out of the school, heading to the edge of the grounds. Josie holds her breath as they disable the artifact and slip out the gate, waiting around to see if they triggered any alarms. But after ten minutes of crouching in the bushes, no one’s come out to investigate, and Penelope figures that can only be a good sign.

This window of opportunity lasts until 4 am, giving Penelope and Josie plenty of time to do whatever they want. They head down the length of the long driveway and get a start on their half hour trek to Mystic Falls. Nothing will be open, but there’s a public park with a playground where they can loiter around at least.

They spend a couple hours talking about random stuff, swapping gossip about the teachers and pondering the inevitable heat death of the universe. When Penelope suggests they move from the swings to the nearby bench, Josie’s struck by how much time they’ve spent in each other’s company, just chilling.

As Josie settles on the wooden bench, she wonders, “Did you ever think we’d be here? Like, hanging out together, sneaking out, coming up with money-making ploys?”

“Not at all.” Penelope shakes her head. “And rule-breaker was definitely not my first impression of you.”

That’s… fair, Josie has to begrudgingly admit. “What was your first impression of me?”

“I don’t know, I remember thinking you were really nice.” Then, with a sly smile, Penelope adds, “And kind of cute.”

Josie scoffs. She’s not going to engage with that last bit and fall for Penelope’s trap. “You barely listened to me.”

Penelope frowns and fixes Josie with a skeptical stare. “That’s not how I remember it happening.”

“How do you remember it then?” Josie asks, crossing her arms.

“As I recall, you were super nervous,” Penelope says. “You said it was the first time you’d given a tour by yourself. So, I was just trying to give you space, take the pressure off.”

Narrowing her eyes, Josie scrutinizes Penelope’s face and body language. Is that the truth? Or is Penelope just saying it now that they’re friends? Though Penelope seems sincere, Josie isn’t confident she could spot a lie if Penelope chose to tell one.

Penelope lets Josie think on that for a few seconds before nudging her. “Why? What did you think of me?”

How honest should Josie be? She’d thought Penelope was just another vapid, mean girl until pretty recently.

“I thought you were so cool,” Josie says instead, which is still a version of the truth, just not the full picture of it. “Much too cool to ever hang out with me.”

“Me? Cool? Tell me more,” Penelope mocks, leaning in with an exaggerated interest.

Josie rolls her eyes. “And then I blinked and you were like the most popular girl all of a sudden, so I’m sure I’m not the only person who thought that.”

“I must be very likable,” Penelope says and examines her fingernails nonchalantly.

That provokes another eye-roll from Josie, even though she’s more amused than irritated.

“You wanna know the secret to popularity?” Penelope asks in a conspiratorial whisper.

“Sure,” Josie replies, deadpan, certain that Penelope’s going to say something flippant.

And Penelope doesn’t disappoint. “You have to try and make friends.”

Josie playfully shoves Penelope’s shoulder for that comment.

Penelope laughs, letting Josie push her to the edge of the bench, and says, “I guess my first impression was wrong. You’re clearly very cruel.”

“Well, mine was wrong too,” Josie says without any real heat. “You’re actually a huge loser.”

“But you like me anyway.” Penelope wrinkles her nose, smiling tauntingly.

Pretending to consider it, Josie tips her head to the side. There’s only one appropriate response, she decides.

Josie shoves Penelope again, this time with enough strength to send her tumbling off the bench and onto the ground. The landing is as inelegant as Josie’s ever seen Penelope appear, and Penelope’s jaw drops with shock.

After a beat, Penelope laughs a little. “Wow. Heartless.”

Seeing Penelope flat on her back on the grass, Josie does feel a little guilty, but the impact doesn’t seem to have hurt her.

“Can you at least help me up?” Penelope asks, reaching one arm up towards Josie.

“Fine,” Josie says, grasping Penelope’s hand tightly.

And with a swift and unexpected tug, Penelope yanks Josie downwards. Josie stumbles and collapses on top of Penelope, bracing her fall with her forearms bracketing Penelope’s head.

“Hey!” Josie protests.

“Hey,” Penelope says, sounding stupidly casual. “You’re blushing.”

“It’s—I’m cold,” Josie covers very convincingly. It definitely has nothing to do with the way they’re currently pressed together or Penelope’s flirtatious expression as she looks up at Josie.

Penelope raises an eyebrow. “Are you asking me to help warm you up?”

Josie stammers through a non-answer, pushing herself up into a sitting position to put some distance between them. As Josie continues to sputter, Penelope also sits up, resting back on her elbows.

“You pulled me down!” Josie exclaims, figuring offense is her only defense here. Especially given that she’s in Penelope’s lap still.

“And you pushed me first,” Penelope shoots back.

Josie huffs, not willing to back down yet. But her indignant scowl provokes a sharp smile from Penelope, and Josie’s gaze drops to Penelope’s mouth at the movement.

Penelope takes notice, smile dropping away, lips parting slightly.

Swallowing hard, Josie becomes painfully aware of the proximity between them, a magnetic pull drawing her in even closer. Heat sears down the back of her throat, burning right through her chest, and Josie can’t ignore it this time. This isn’t gratitude, isn’t envy, it’s…

Josie clambers to her feet.

“We should probably head back,” she says, taking a few steps back so that she can breathe again. “It’s almost 4.”

It’s only 3:04, but hopefully Penelope won’t call her out on it.

Penelope fixes her with a long, cool stare that Josie can’t quite decipher.

Then, Penelope stands up and dusts the dead grass from her pants. “Yeah, sure. Let’s go.”

The walk back is quieter, and Josie can feel the undercurrent of tension that lingers in the air. By the time they arrive back at the school, Josie’s hands are still clammy and things haven’t gotten less weird.

That’s fine. It’s fine. Tomorrow, everything will go back to normal. Right?

The next time Josie sees Penelope is during their shared trig class in the morning. Josie takes her regular seat in the back, fidgeting with the clip of her pen until Penelope slips into the chair beside her.

“Hey,” Penelope says, swinging her backpack onto the table. “I forgot to do the last two questions, can I copy off yours?”

And with that question, things can go back to the way they were, just as Josie hoped. But still, she feels a twinge of something like disappointment.

“Sure.” Josie gets her homework out, passing it over to Penelope.

Penelope sets to work, scribbling Josie’s answers down, completely unaffected and… normal. Completely normal.

Great. Josie can totally pretend too.

In the first official week of the new scheme, Josie and Penelope take on four clients, each going off without a hitch. With these victories coming in, Josie’s nerves finally fade. This is the happiest she’s been in a long time, and she decides that’s what she should focus on.

But then, Sunday night comes along to ruin that perspective.

At exactly midnight, Josie leads the way to the gate, gravel crunching quietly underfoot as Penelope and their client Pat follow a few steps behind. A rush of air passes by, and a familiar figure appears in front of them without any warning, moving faster than Josie can process.

Oh no.

“Mom,” Josie greets weakly.

“Josie,” Caroline says, a stern timbre to her voice, “would you like to explain to me what’s happening here?”

There is no lie convincing enough to spout, so Josie doesn’t even try.

“Not… really…”

“Josette,” Caroline warns.

“They’re running a service to sneak people off campus,” Pat spills. “I just wanted to see my boyfriend from Mystic Falls, please don’t tell my mom!”

With a discreet glance towards Penelope, Josie attempts to assess her reaction. But Penelope just gives a resigned smile in response.

That’s when Josie realizes it’s over.

The investigation into Penelope and Josie’s schemes takes only three days to turn up just enough evidence and testimony to get the Events Committee shut down. Josie hands over her share of the profits to her parents, guiltily accepting their multiple and frequent lectures as extra punishment. As the clear ringleaders, Josie and Penelope are also sentenced to a month of detention and strict supervision.

And that’s all it takes to topple their empire. The pieces scatter, and whatever clout Josie built up in the past few months all but dissipates in a day.

Even worse, Josie is once again on Lizzie’s shit list. Josie’s kept secrets before, but nothing like this, and hurt and anger radiate off Lizzie as she firmly subjects Josie to the silent treatment. The silence only lasts three days, but the animosity persists.

Once the immediate fallout has cleared, Penelope seeks Josie out in the student lounge with an uncharacteristically tentative approach.

“Hey, you okay?” Penelope asks, with something like concern.

Josie takes a quick survey of the room—gossip travels fast and a few of their classmates are tossing conspicuous looks their way. That doesn’t bother her too much, but then Lizzie rounds the corner of the hallway, brows furrowing in disapproval as she catches sight of Josie and Penelope mid-conversation.

“Yeah,” Josie says, gathering up her textbooks in one arm. “I have to go.”

Before Penelope can say anything else, Josie brushes by her and heads out, joining up with Lizzie at the exit. It’s certainly a cold move, but the less they’re seen with each other, the better. Penelope may not realize it yet, but it’s Josie’s only way of looking out for her right now.

After a couple more failed attempts at conversation, Penelope must catch on, as she gives Josie the much needed space. February passes, and the two exchange nothing more than subtle nods of acknowledgement in their shared classes.

The month of punishment ends, and Lizzie forgives Josie with a simple, “So, can we finally go to the Return of the King matinee?”

Of course, they’re not allowed to go alone, so Dorian tags along as supervision. For their exemplary behavior in the past month, he lets them buy popcorn, peanut butter M&Ms, sour Skittles, and root beer. Arms full of goodies, the twins happily find their seats and settle in for the extended runtime of four hours and ten minutes.

At around the halfway point, not long after the grumpy guy shows up to say his daughter is dying, the showing pauses for a ten-minute intermission. Lizzie’s clearly having a blast (and Josie’s having fun too, for someone who can’t seem to remember half of the names), but Dorian jogs out, muttering under his breath about needing to pee for the past fifteen minutes.

As Josie’s sipping the last of her root beer, Lizzie says, “You could have told me, you know.”

“Huh?”

“About all the scheming and stuff,” Lizzie elaborates, more serious than Josie’s seen her in a long time.

“Oh.” Josie looks down. “I guess, I was worried you would do something drastic if you found out.”

“No, I definitely would have,” Lizzie admits with a self-deprecating laugh. Then quieter, she adds, “But I wouldn’t have told Mom and Dad.”

Clearly, it’s been bothering her for a while. Josie knew Lizzie was upset about the whole thing but hadn’t expected her sister to try and mend things like this.

“I’m sorry I lied and kept it from you,” Josie says. “I’ll try to trust you more.”

“Good.” Lizzie’s sniffs as she considers something further. “And in the future, if you really want more friends—not Satan incarnate—then… I guess that would be okay.”

That surprises Josie. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Lizzie confirms with a nod.

Josie smiles, brightening with their shared affection in this moment.

After that talk, everything slowly returns to the way it was at the beginning of the school year, almost like Josie had never accidentally strong-armed her way onto the Events Committee. Like Josie and Penelope’s paths had never collided. Like they’d never even been friends. Josie doesn’t know how to feel about it all, and Lizzie’s still sensitive around the topic of Penelope, so it’s not like Josie has anyone else to talk to anymore.

And if Josie wishes anything could be different… well, there’s no use thinking about it now.

“Do you think Mom remembered the chocolate-covered strawberries I wanted?” Lizzie asks as Josie finishes braiding her sister’s hair into a single elegant plait.

“I saw it on her big checklist earlier,” Josie says. “So, yes.”

“It’s not our sweet sixteen or anything.” Lizzie admires herself in the mirror. “But if this doesn’t make the other witches green with envy, is it even a successful birthday party? You know what I mean?”

Josie does not. Still, she nods anyway.

She has a suspicion that it’s Lizzie’s way of compensating for the lack of creative control she had over the party. Ever since the dissolution of the Events Committee, their parents haven’t let either of them within two feet of parties or the planning of them. Missing out on the Valentine’s Day dance had been… traumatizing for Lizzie.

“Ready?” Lizzie asks as she faces Josie. “Oh, your make-up’s not done yet,” Lizzie notes with disappointment.

“Why don’t you go ahead?” Josie suggests. “I’ll be down soon.”

“Fine,” Lizzie says, already halfway out the door.

Josie can’t blame her, she’s been starved of a good party for months now.

Taking a seat, Josie organizes her cosmetics on Lizzie’s desk. She sighs and stares at the various brushes and pencils for a long beat. Where’s a celebratory mood when you need one?

Oh well, she should get started.

A knock on the door startles her from her reverie, and Josie turns, expecting her mom or dad or maybe even one of the teachers.

But no, it’s Penelope, with her knuckles still resting on the wooden surface of the door. She peers into the room, tilting forward on her sleek black heels.

“Hey,” Penelope says, seeming unsure if she should enter. “I couldn’t find you anywhere at your own party, so I got worried.”

She was worried? Josie bites her lip, not sure whether to let her guilty or flattered feelings win out.

“I’m nearly ready, just doing my makeup.” Josie brandishes one of the brushes as proof.

Penelope doesn’t answer right away, glancing down at the floorboards as she considers her next words. Then, she asks, “Do you want any help?”

Josie’s not sure how it simultaneously feels like they haven’t spoken in forever and also like no time’s passed at all. But in any case, it’s… nice to see Penelope again. And Lizzie and her parents are probably at the party, along with almost everyone else, so what harm could there be now?

Tucking some hair behind her ear, Josie nods. “Sure.”

Penelope takes a good look at both Lizzie and Josie’s sides of the room as she walks in, and Josie wonders if Penelope can tell which side is hers.

As Penelope perches on an adjacent stool, she takes the proffered brush, fingers closing briefly over Josie’s. The contact sends a jolt down Josie’s arm, and she inadvertently flexes her hand in reaction. Luckily, the palette has occupied Penelope’s attention with its many options, and the movement goes unnoticed. Penelope tests a few shades before getting to work, pointer finger and thumb firmly guiding Josie’s chin to one side.

Josie holds as still as she can manage while Penelope applies the primer, fingers dabbing carefully across her eyelids. As Penelope swipes the small blender brush in deft, precise motions, not a word passes between them. The process is hypnotic in a way, but Josie feels hyper-aware of Penelope’s intense attention all on her.

“I thought you were avoiding me,” Penelope says in a hushed voice, like she’s being careful not to scare Josie away.

Josie tries not to squirm under Penelope’s scrutiny. This is a very inconvenient time to be confronted on her shortcomings, but that was probably Penelope’s intention.

“Yeah… sorry about that,” Josie mutters, “I just didn’t want to get my parents or Lizzie on our backs again.”

Penelope smiles understandingly, if not forgivingly. “I get it, I’m a bad influence, right?”

That’s not exactly it. Josie shrugs and says, “I’m probably the worse influence, since you were doing just fine before me.”

“Maybe so,” Penelope says, tone lilting up in amusement, “but I had a lot of fun anyway.”

Seemingly satisfied with Josie’s eyes, Penelope picks up the lip gloss, examining the color under the desk light before twisting the cap open. She pulls the applicator out and focuses on Josie’s mouth as she applies a thin layer of light pink.

The mood shifts then as Penelope’s eyes flicker up to meet Josie’s for a moment. This close to each other, there’s no facade to hide behind, and Josie’s breath catches in her throat. Penelope wavers first, dropping her gaze back to Josie’s lips, and maybe it’s the lack of oxygen, but Josie feels slightly lightheaded.

This is why she’s been avoiding Penelope, Josie realizes too late. Sure, there might have been an element of keeping her head down, but isn’t this the real reason? Penelope’s too good at provoking this feeling that Josie is afraid to name.

And this time it’s Penelope who pulls away, appraising her handiwork. “Okay, there. You look perfect.”

With enough space between them now, Josie remembers how to breathe in time to not pass out. She swings around to examine herself in the mirror and blinks, surprised to see how different she looks. The colors Penelope’s chosen for her eyeshadow and lips are bolder than anything Josie would pick herself. But it’s a good different, she quickly decides.

Penelope stands, drawing Josie’s attention back to her, and says, “Happy birthday, Josie.”

The way Penelope says her name so softly makes Josie’s stomach twist. And it’s the last push Josie needs to see that Penelope really doesn’t deserve all the ignoring and evading, no matter how much easier Josie finds it to be. Josie’s been unfair, and she resolves to make it up to Penelope.

“Why don’t we go together?” Josie asks.

Penelope raises an eyebrow. “I don’t know, I wouldn’t wanna get you in trouble.”

“It’s fine,” Josie says, emboldened. “I could stand to have a little trouble back in my life.”

A slow smile pulls at Penelope’s lips. “Alright then.”

The party is definitely past its peak by the time they arrive, but that doesn’t stop them from having fun. Josie grabs two slices of birthday cake while Penelope gets some punch, and they spend the evening eating and chatting, picking up like they’d never left off. Penelope catches Josie up on the latest in her friend group—Beth J and Kate are on the outs over artistic differences in a group project—and Josie recounts the entire plot of Return of the King despite Penelope’s half-hearted protests.

The evening winds down, and Josie is mid-full belly laugh when Lizzie marches up, interrupting the conversation without warning.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Lizzie demands.

“We’re just talking,” Josie answers in an attempt to de-escalate.

But Lizzie crosses her arms, shaking her head in judgment and disappointment. “No way, you’re hanging with this delinquent again?”

Penelope laughs scornfully at that, reclining back in her chair to regard Lizzie with matching contempt. Josie shifts, an uncomfortable anxiety settling in the pit of her stomach, like she’s been caught between two predators fighting for the same piece of territory.

“Well, she’s my friend,” Josie defends, standing up to face Lizzie.

Though taken aback by Josie’s unexpected burst of defiance, Lizzie starts to argue back, hissed insult halfway out when Penelope cuts in.

“Look, I’m sorry I roped your sister into that mess,” Penelope says.

Why is Penelope apologizing, Josie wonders, when none of it was really her fault? But even with the month and a half of space, Josie can recognize the look in Penelope’s eye that says she has a plan.

“I can’t undo that,” Penelope continues. “But you’re also upset about not being on the event planning side of things, right?”

Lizzie doesn’t agree per se, but she lets Penelope proceed uninterrupted, which is as close to an agreement as Penelope’s going to get.

“What if I go to your dad and tell him you had nothing to do with all the stuff we did? And I’ll say you should be allowed to help plan future events with supervision,” Penelope proposes.

“And why would he listen to you?” Lizzie asks, voice dry and skeptical.

That’s a fair question, given that Penelope’s stock is pretty low with Alaric and Caroline still.

Penelope smiles roguishly. “Because he’s definitely forgotten that your mom’s upcoming recruitment trip coincides with the school talent show, which we all know he hates. And I have all the vendor information, so he’s going to be slammed without my—without your help.”

Oh, she’s good, Josie thinks.

Lizzie narrows her eyes, like she has to really consider this idea, but Josie can see her rapidly weakening at the thought of controlling the talent show. Finally, after the requisite hemming and hawing, Lizzie says, “I find this acceptable, fine, but you’re on thin ice.”

“I don’t care at all,” Penelope says.

But Lizzie’s already walked away, pondering aloud whether she can get fairy lighting for the auditorium.

Penelope raises an eyebrow, bemused, and looks back at Josie. “Anyway. What were we talking about?”

But Josie’s not ready to move on.

“Why did you offer all that?” Josie asks, shaking her head in confusion. “I thought you hated her.”

“Well, it’s your birthday too, I figured I shouldn’t ruin it,” Penelope says gently. “And besides, you should be able to spend it how you want, not just trying to make your sister happy all night, right?”

Never in a million years would Josie have thought of it like that. But maybe Penelope has a point. Birthdays are meant to be enjoyed, or something like that.

Josie chuckles. “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

It doesn’t end up being the best birthday ever (that honor goes to her 7th birthday when they rented out a roller rink), but Josie still has a lot of fun, much more than she expected.

At the end of the week, Josie finds herself at Penelope’s door, knocking with more determination than she knows what to do with. Josie doesn’t think they necessarily need to have a big talk, but she wants to make sure they’re good again. Sure, they’ve chatted a bit in and between classes, but that could mean anything.

Penelope answers, one arm resting against the frame. “Hey.”

Marcy and Beth H round the corner, mid-discussion, and wave at Josie and Penelope as they walk past them. Josie gives a cursory little wave back, her other hand fidgeting with the zipper on her jacket.

“Can I come in?” Josie asks.

Penelope cocks an eyebrow, and Josie suspects an inappropriate and wildly flirty thought is running through her mind.

“Sure,” Penelope says, showing more restraint than usual, and props the door wide open in invitation.

As Josie enters, she debates where in the room to stand. The middle would be weird, but the corner would be even worse.

“What’s up?” Penelope asks, and Josie swings around.

Oh. They’re standing right next to Penelope’s bed, sure, that’s totally what Josie wants.

“So, the thing with Lizzie and my dad worked out perfectly,” Josie says, forging ahead. If she gets bogged down in the details now, then this conversation won’t happen. “I haven’t seen Lizzie this happy since the Winter Formal.”

“I guess even Lizzie deserves a little happiness now and then,” Penelope jokes.

“Well, the talent show is coming up then. You have any schemes still up your sleeve?”

Penelope shrugs. “Not really.”

“I thought maybe you really cared about that kind of stuff, and I like lowkey ruined it,” Josie says as casually as she can before glancing away. That wasn’t the smoothest check in, but she got it all out in one breath, and surely, that counts for something.

“It’s fine, I didn’t care that much,” Penelope says, reassuring her. “At first, it was something to pass time here at this dull school, but then I liked having a partner in crime, I’ve never had one before.”

Aw, Josie thinks, I got to be her first partner in crime.

“And your suggestions were fun. They were really ambitious, stuff I would’ve never tried on my own.” Penelope smiles, the rare genuine one that Josie’s only seen a couple times.

“So, we’re okay?” Josie asks, rubbing the back of her head sheepishly. “I’m just not sure how you feel about me after all that crazy stuff.”

“Well, I mean, I like being around you,” Penelope says, light, like she could be completely serious or completely kidding.

“Really?” Josie’s mouth scrunches with suspicion.

“Yeah, before we started talking, I’d just try and get through the day without dying of boredom.” Penelope takes two steps closer to Josie, eyes sweeping her up and down. “And now, I wake up every morning, looking forward to something. Seeing you.”

Josie swallows and does her best to ignore her heart hammering away inside her chest. “And that means…?”

“It means, I like you,” Penelope says, only her darting eyes betraying her own jitters. “I wanna be with you.”

Though Josie understands each word separately, something about the way they sound together doesn’t quite compute. Penelope could be speaking a different language right now, as far as Josie’s concerned.

“You like me?” Josie repeats, floored and unable to process this properly.

“I don’t know how I could possibly make it clearer. Do you need me to spell it out for you?” Penelope grins, fond and exasperated in turns.

“Yes?”

“Josie, come on.”

And finally, the pieces fall in place.

Josie laughs, and ugh, she feels silly and weak and happy. “Sorry, I’m just surprised. I mean, I feel the same way.”

“Well, that was obvious,” Penelope says, confidence returning quickly.

“Okay, I’m just going to kiss you now before I keep embarrassing myself.”

Josie reaches out, fingers pulling gently on the hem of Penelope’s shirt, and Penelope takes the cue, stepping in close. And maybe Josie’s thought about it before, idly, in class or during the committee meetings or while doing homework—and okay, putting it like that, maybe she’s thought about it a lot.

But as Penelope leans in, arms encircling Josie’s neck, Josie stops imagining. Their lips brush in a tentative first kiss, and for once, Josie feels like this comes easy to her. She smiles and presses a second firmer kiss against Penelope’s mouth, relishing the heat spreading through her body, igniting every nerve.

They part once their lungs start burning, and it’s then that Penelope jokes breathlessly, “I can’t believe I let the dumbest witch in this school blackmail me.”

“Wow!” Josie plays it like she’s taken offense, jaw dropping for comedic effect. Then she lets up. “Only dumbest witch, huh?”

Penelope softens the blow by resting her forehead against Josie’s, eyes filled with affection.

“Well, I didn’t want to set you up to fail. Jed goes here too.”

Epilogue

Lizzie rolls her eyes, grumbling under her breath, as Josie grabs her leather jacket and keys.

“Have fun,” Lizzie says with forced brightness.

“I will,” Josie says with actual cheer and heads out without another word.

She stealths down to the classrooms, entering Ms. Daniels’ unlocked classroom, and sneaks out the window. As she drops down to the garden, she surveys the back courtyard until she catches sight of the expected silhouette by the fountain.

“Hey,” Josie says as she approaches.

Penelope turns, expression full of irresistible joy, and loops her arm through Josie’s.

“You having second thoughts?” Penelope asks.

“Not a chance,” Josie says, intertwining her fingers with Penelope’s.

“Really?” With more teasing and less warning than perhaps warranted, Penelope says, “There’s a non-zero chance we could land in detention again.”

Josie faces Penelope with a wicked smile.

“Well, that’s only if we get caught.” Josie kisses the corner of Penelope’s mouth and whispers, “And where would we be without a little risk?”