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had never talked about this before. I guess Branna hadn’t thought about it until she fell in love, and then she fell hard.
    The bus turned and we had to hold on for a minute before we said any more.
    â€œYou’re saying I should just settle for less than what I want, then?” asked Branna.
    â€œNo! I just want you to tell me what you do want.” A hint would be helpful in figuring out who to give the other half of the love philtre to.
    I didn’t know what would happen if more than two people drank it. It might go completely inactive, or it might be—I didn’t want to think about that. “Come on. Give me a hint. What kind of guy turns you on? Blond? Dark? Tall? Quiet? Affectionate? Sweet?” When Branna didn’t say anything, I added, “Hairy arms? Horns? Pointed ears? Branna, you talk about romance, but you never have any specifics. I’m starting to think you couldn’t love a real guy because you have imagined someone so perfect he can’t be real.”
    â€œHe’s real, all right,” said Branna quietly.
    â€œThen who? Give me a hint. Please.”
    There was a long moment’s pause, and I was afraid she wouldn’t say anything. But finally, she said, “He’s tall.”
    â€œOkay, good.” Not Will Bishop, then. Rick Gawain seemed the obvious choice. “What else?” I asked.
    She tilted her head to the side and seemed to go into some dreamworld where she could look at his face instead of mine. “He’s thoughtful, and brings out the best in everyone around him.”
    Wait—that didn’t sound like Rick Gawain, with his quiet grunting, at all. It was so vague it could be almost anyone. It could even be Mark! But of course, I knew it wasn’t.
    â€œAnd he doesn’t know I exist,” Branna finished in a whisper.
    â€œWell, I’ll have to change that, then. Tell me who it is. I swear I can help you.”
    â€œNo, Izzie. I’m not telling you a name.”
    â€œIs it embarrassing? Branna, tell me you are not in love with the principal or one of your teachers. Or someone who is married.”
    Branna blushed. It looked good on her; it really did. It made her eyes sparkle and brought out a reddish light in her hair. “He’s not married,” she said. “And he’s our age.”
    â€œA junior?”
    â€œNo.”
    I was getting somewhere. “A senior, then.” But that still left roughly one hundred guys. I couldn’t give the love philtre to all of them.
    â€œStarts with an A ?” I asked.
    â€œMmm,” said Branna. “No.”
    â€œ B? ”
    Branna shook her head.
    I couldn’t go through the whole alphabet before we got to school. We were almost there already. “Well, tell me this, then. You say he doesn’t know you exist. Is that in the he-passes-you-in-the-halls kind of way and you have no contact with him? Or is it in the you’re-right-under-his-nose-every-minute-of-the-day-and-he-doesn’t-think-of-you-romantically kind of way?”
    â€œRight under his nose,” Branna admitted, then looked out the window.
    Rick, then? We’d see him before school. I would just have to watch Branna and decide if he was the right one. Then all I’d have to do was make sure I got them both to drink the love philtre. How was I going to do that? Well, I’d have to make sure they were really, really thirsty. Maybe at the game?

Chapter 5
    A fter we got off the bus, Branna and I went over to the sunken “pit” in the middle of the Tintagel High commons area, where they had dances. If you really liked someone, you danced down the steps in the pit, because it was crowded there and you had to get close. If you weren’t sure, you stayed on the edges. If it was a pity dance, you stayed as far from the pit as possible.
    Mark and I always danced in the pit.
    We hung out there, too, with his posse. I could see every-one there now,