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changing your fate? It’s the perfect tactic. She’s boxing us in.”
    Femke added, “That’s why finding love charms is step one of our plan.”
    Fallon listened carefully as the twins explained how the charm gathering was going to work. Using whatever resources were available, each member of the rebellion had to collect love charms. Charms were organized into three different forms: object, verbal, and potion. Love charms were no different. Successful charms were usually written down for safekeeping, so finding books and magazines seemed like a good start. Femke suggested searching the library archives for forgotten charms; it was worth looking into for anyone who thought they could get a peek. Fallon wrote that down in her planner. She had already registered to volunteer at the school library anyway this year, so she’d work on befriending Ms. Ward.
    â€œIf your parents send you generous pocket change, you could buy the magazines that are being printed now. You’d have to pick them up yourself, though. Delivery is too risky,” Mirthe said.
    â€œThat makes sense,” Nico said. “Even the mailmen are dependent on Zita’s fortunes. If they knew what we were ordering…”
    â€œWe’d be caught,” Mirthe finished. “You can take a bus out to neighboring towns, but if you have your own transportation, that would be better.”
    â€œMirthe and I share a moped,” Femke said.
    â€œThen it sounds like buying the new charms will be up to you,” Sebastian said dryly.
    Mirthe ignored him. “There are other ways to find old love charms. You have to keep your eyes and ears open. Write them down if they’re not already captured on paper. Learn to squeeze the charms out of people.”
    â€œDon’t forget to organize them,” Femke said as they packed up their belongings.
    The energy in the room hummed. No one had ever tried to shut Zita’s shop down. This was new territory, and the task ahead had not quite sunken in. Fallon pushed whatever doubts she had aside. Her fortune reminded her of what lay ahead if she sat by and did nothing.
    *   *   *
    At first, Fallon thought she was alone walking back to the student housing complex. Her thoughts flickered and glowed like fireflies. She imagined eating whatever entr é es were cooling on tables at the outdoor caf é s, as if judging their quality was not a habit she’d been bred to follow. I could eat whatever I want , she thought, and pick each dish just by what smells good . My nose isn’t as developed as my parents’. She liked that flaw. The sky darkened, allowing the streetlamps to cast golden shadows on the streets.
    As she approached a footbridge, Sebastian walked beside her. He had a languid stride, even while carrying his schoolbag over one shoulder. He didn’t look at her for quite some time. He stared straight ahead, chin up, with that incorrigibly bored expression on his face.
    â€œYou could have waited,” he said. “I live at the complex too.”
    Fallon wasn’t sure what to say. When the meeting ended, her only desire was to return to her apartment. There were clothes to lie out for the next morning and she needed to use the potatoes she had bought for her dinner tonight or else they would go bad. “My mind was on other things.”
    â€œWhat things?”
    She tucked her hair behind her ears. “Nothing important.”
    The canal below their feet made gentle lapping sounds. Two little girls ran across the footbridge, shrieking and throwing leaves at each other.
    â€œI’ve heard about you.” He watched the leaves as they tumbled out of the girls’ hands.
    â€œMe?”
    â€œFallon Dupree, Grimbaud High’s princess.”
    â€œI’ve only been in school a day. How could I have a title?”
    â€œNews travels fast. I heard that you wouldn’t eat the principal’s casserole at