9
RULED BY VENUS, LIBRA CAN BE ONE OF THE BEAUTIES OF THE ZODIAC. SO WHY IS THIS SIGN SO CLINGY? FOR THOSE WHO DON’T MIND A CONSTANT HAND ON A SHOULDER, AN ARM, OR WHEREVER, A LIBRA CAN OFFER A SENSE OF SECURITY. UNTIL THE CRITICISM KICKS IN—AND IT ALWAYS DOES. THE WAY TO UNDERSTAND A LIBRA IS TO REMIND YOURSELF THAT THIS PERSON MOVES THROUGH LIFE LOOKING IN THE MIRROR. THE FOCUS WILL NEVER BE ON YOU. IF YOU CAN LIVE WITH THAT, YOU’LL BE JUST FINE.
—Fearless Astrology
I closed the book and pressed the cover against me. Then, I put it back in my backpack. Paige and Chili had been shocked and happy that my dad had financed my little shopping spree. With their help, after school, I bought a sweater and some new straight-leg jeans that, once Paige made some alterations, wouldn’t be too clunky when I tried to walk or climb into a certain Honda. Which I’d be climbing into very soon, thank you very much. They’d even talked me into a beret the color of charcoal. Loving my clothes but hating my frizzy hair, I’d pulled out a chunk and given myself instant bangs with a pair of scissors Paige had used when she hemmed my jeans. They both shrieked but admitted I looked better.
All I could think about was what I’d be doing tonight, and who I’d be doing it with. I put everything but the Frankenstein essay on hold and read all I could about Nathan. According to the chart in the back, his Moon was in Libra.
The Moon stuff was starting to make sense to me now. With only the date and year of birth, I could find anyone’s Moon on the chart at the back of Fearless Astrology. Once I had that, I could figure out the influences on the Sun sign. A strong moon such as Aries would create a fiery influence on a Sun sign. That could be good for a dreamy Pisces like Paige and not so good for someone like Nathan, who already had plenty of fire in his Sun sign.
Instead of fire, his Moon was air, and pretty cold indeed. Nathan wasn’t, though. He was always going out of his way to help people in need, like shaving off his hair for the Kids and Cancer benefit, although he looked even hotter with his head shaved. Could he know that? Didn’t matter. Tonight was the night and, yes, I was so nervous that I could barely keep my teeth from chattering.
“Nervous?” Chili asked as we drove to school that morning.
“Gee, how can you tell?”
Paige giggled from the backseat. “Well, don’t be,” she said. “The bangs are perfect. No more mad-scientist hair.”
I turned around to face her. “What you did with those jeans—I can’t believe it.”
“I used one pin on each leg,” she said. “That’s all you need for a simple job like that.”
“You’re going to be a fabulous designer,” I told her, and started to get nervous again. “I hope Nathan likes them as much as I do.”
“Nathan likes you.” Chili grinned as we drove into the school parking lot. “Whatever you did with that book worked and will keep working. Now, let’s figure out how to get Trevor for me.”
“Absolutely,” I said. “I can tell by the way he looks at you that that is going to be way easier than trying to figure out the Gears.”
Frankenstein was relatively nice to me in class that day, meaning that he didn’t demand that I participate or ask any questions about my mom. I pulled my sweater tight against the freezing wind and hurried toward auto shop to meet Chili. All of a sudden, there I was, face-to-face with Geneva. Well, more like face-to-chest, as if I needed a reminder.
“Hey, Logan,” Geneva said in that slow-paced way of hers. “Like your bangs.”
“Thanks.”
“Um, got a minute?”
“Sure. I have to meet Chili, but no problem.”
What else was I going to say? That it was cold out here, and I didn’t want to stand there freezing my butt off when I could be in a warm building?
She didn’t seem to notice the weather. Her puffy lavender jacket wasn’t even zipped.
Shoving her hands into the pockets of her jeans, she said, “I understand you want to start an astrology column that focuses on teachers.”
“I mentioned it to Ms. Snider, yeah. Lots of school newspapers have them.”
“Um.” Her amused smile was accompanied by raised brows over those almond-shaped blue-gray eyes. “And you’re going to start out by trashing Frankenstein, right?”
“Not at all.” How had she gotten that idea? “I just wanted to write the first one about him because—” I tried to think of a way to explain why I’d been studying his sign.
Geneva didn’t seem to notice that I was scrambling for words. “That’s a little disappointing. Other papers trash teachers, you know.”
Not teachers who hold kids’ futures in their hands. And certainly not teachers who have given one certain kid a second chance at a personal essay.
“Writing about astrology is better than slamming him or anyone else.”
“Astrology, huh?”
She might as well have said cafeteria spinach.
“Yeah. The teacher profile would be the minor part of the column. The rest would be about each teacher’s sign, which would be the same sign as any number of kids. Who wouldn’t want to learn what their strengths and weaknesses are? Not to mention . . .” I paused for emphasis, “ . . . their romantic compatibilities.”
“Boy/girl stuff? I take it that means you believe some signs are more compatible than others.”
“They are.” I dug for the most bizarre famous couples fact in the book and couldn’t remember a single one.
“Well?” She shoved her hands deeper into her lavender pockets.
“It’s true,” I said. “Take Mr. Franklin, a fixed earth sign. He’s not going to get along with a fast-talking, frequently superficial air sign like Gemini. He might be better suited for another earth sign.” Like Capricorn. Like Snider.
“How do you know Frankenstein is earth?” That look of superiority seemed as natural to her as her rich voice.
“I believe that’s the case.”
Believe, right. As if I hadn’t run a whole yellow highlighter out of ink on the Taurus section of the book.
“So?” Geneva crossed her arms and peered down at me.
“So I’m excited about the possibility of a column that combines teacher interviews with astrology.”
“Interesting.” Geneva rubbed her hands over the sleeves of her jacket. “Now tell me why we’re freezing our butts off out here when we could be talking inside a warm building.”
Why did it sound so much better when she said what I’d been thinking all along?
“I was wondering the same thing,” I replied, and headed toward auto shop.
Geneva stepped inside the shop lab and wrinkled her nose as if offended by the motor oil or whatever it was in the air.
“Chili must hate this place,” she said. “Whatever it takes, though, if she expects to take over Daddy’s car dealership someday, right?”
“Chili loves auto shop, actually.” I stopped short of reminding her that Chili and Charles Bellamy were the top two students in shop. Instead, I said, “Geminis are attracted to gathering information. That’s part of her sign too.”
“So what do you think my sign is?” Geneva stopped in the hall and posed before me, hand on her hip.
No denying she was gorgeous. And a limelight hog. Could be Libra. Maybe Leo. As snarky as she’d been about Chili’s interest in auto shop, she could even be a gossipy Aries.
“I’d need your birth date, time, and place,” I said.
“No problem. In fact, I think it’s an excellent idea. A columnist for any newspaper should have to try out, don’t you think?”
“I’ve been writing for The Growl since last year when I was a freshman.” I hated the way my voice trembled.
“But only, um, well, just features, right?”
“An astrology column is a feature, Geneva.”
Where was Chili? I needed to get away from this girl before I told her what I really thought.
“And you realize that before I can just hand you a column, you need to prove yourself in some way, don’t you?”
“So what do you want from me?”
“An audition.” She took a piece of notepaper out of her jacket pocket. “Here are two birth dates. Let me know what you figure out about them, especially compatibility.”
She’d written them down before she’d even spoken to me today. How conniving was that?
I looked down at the notepaper. The first date listed was pure Libra. Guess who?
The second was Leo. And not just any Leo. Nathan’s birth date was on that paper in my hand.
“Well?” Geneva asked.
Before I could wonder how much of what I felt was plastered on my face, I saw Chili coming down the hall straight for me.
“I’ll get back to you,” I said, and ran to Chili. If anyone could figure out what to do next, my Gemini friend would.
NOTES TO SELF
The Star Crossed column started as only an excuse to trick Frankenstein into telling me his birthday. Now it can actually happen. If it does, I can prove to him that I’m a real writer worthy of his recommendation. Geneva is my ticket. But now, in order to get the assignment, I’ll have to actually figure out how astrologically simpatico she and Nathan are. If I jump off the roof tonight, you’ll understand why. Good thing I live in a single-story house.