To reverse the effects of the binding love potion, the affected parties must remain physically separated from one another until the potion naturally wears off. Close proximity acts as a catalyst, reenergizing the potion's essence and hindering the natural process of dissolution. This creates a high-stakes scenario, as with a magnet, once two are in the same field, outside force is required to break them apart.
I had jotted down my theory several different ways, but this felt the most scientifically sound. I was hoping it would help motivate me on how to break the truth to Misty.
"Hey, Misty. You know why you've been fixated on fucking your brother? Yeah... That's my bad. Love dousing gone wrong. What can ya do?"
Clearly, I needed to refine the message further. On a positive note, tutoring was going well. Not only was she completing her assignments, but I was getting such a good grasp on the material, I felt that even with winter finals approaching I wasn't even going to have to study. Of course, it helped that history, one of the hardest subjects, had suddenly become a breeze. Everyone in the class was experiencing a bump in the GPA and the workload had lightened considerably.
Whatever magic Andre was working on Mrs. Watson had done a number on the poor teacher's once-stern demeanor. She discarded her normal curriculum in favor of an improvised and more relaxed approach. During her lectures, she frequently got sidetracked, veering off into stories from her college and high school days. As a result, her rapport with the students was at an all-time high. It was difficult not to prefer this version of her, especially when it meant no more lunch detentions. I was concerned she would let her guard down too much, however. She had recently missed a few classes, conveniently calling in sick on the same days that Andre was truant.
After observing Brent and Mrs. Young for months, I came to a reassuring realization that despite their intense infatuation with each other, their love had reached a plateau, alleviating my concerns that Brent would inadvertently express his feelings for his mother to his friends, which would destroy any leverage I had over him. Hopefully, Andre and Mrs. Watson being in a similar situation would be wise enough to keep their relationship discreet.
That afternoon, the Armstrong house was unlocked, but the driveway was empty, and no one answered when I knocked. Since I'd been tutoring Misty for the better part of the last month, I felt at ease inviting myself in and making my way upstairs to her room. Another benefit of not looking like a muscled-up fuckboi was that Mr. and Mrs. Armstrong didn't seem to have an issue with me hanging around their daughter without supervision.
As I reached the top of the staircase, I gently tapped on the doorframe to get Misty's attention, only to find her engrossed in her own world. She sat on the floor of her room, legs crossed in pretzel style, absorbed in her phone and music. I could overhear the upbeat sounds of a sugary pop song bleeding from the expensive earbuds. My heart sank. Wednesdays were typically her good days since it meant she hadn't visited the hospital. Besides being hella stupider the days she saw Richie, there were many other obvious tells. Her taste in style became much more girly and mainstream. Her ability to hold a conversation dwindled, and her attire mirrored her current appearance - tight leggings that showed off her bum, a fitted athletic top, and juvenile bright-color ties in her hair.
Fuck, this was not how I wanted to have this conversation.
"Jeeze, Dude!" Misty freaked out as she noticed me hovering in her room. "Stalk much?"
"Sorry, Misty. No one answered the door when I knocked," I replied.
"Ugh, can't I get, like, ten minutes to myself? I just got back from-" She cut herself off, and grimaced.
"I thought you weren't seeing your brother till tomorrow," I submitted, trying to understand what had changed.
"You sound just like her," Misty retorted bitterly. "'Misty, you don't need to see him every day.' 'Misty, the docs will keep us in the loop.' 'Misty, it's time to go back to school' 'You're acting all spoiled.' He's my fucking brother! Why can't anyone see that? I'm all he's got!"
Well, that's a lot to unpack, I thought. She picked at her nails like an addict in withdrawal. Time to switch to Plan B. I knelt down so we were eye level.
"No one knows what you're going through, but it sounds like a rough day," I said.
She shook her head adamantly, nose flaring. "No. It's not the day. It's everything. I can't... I just can't."
I tried to find the right words. "Look, I get not wanting to go back to school. I can't wait to graduate either."
But Misty wasn't listening. She continued to vent. "You know that basic bitch, Jada? She had the freaking audacity to tell people that Richie and her were a thing. Like, she hooked up with him one night, ages ago. He didn't even like her. Plus everyone knows she's with Braxton now. But she still showed up at the hospital acting like she's his girl, for what? Sympathy. And then she got all pissed when I told her to fucking leave and shove her snickerdoodles up her ass," Misty frothed.
"Do you have any clue how much it hurts, seeing this amazing guy stuck on a ventilator?" Her gaze fell to the floor, lost in thoughts.
I wanted to gag. Richie, an amazing guy? Wow. But I persevered.
"I get it. You miss him. The whole school does, but you're his sister, and you-"
"I want to suck his cock." Misty said matter-of-factly.
"Uhh," I stumbled over my words, unsure how to respond.
"But the nurses hover. I think one of them knows... Gretchen. She always gives me a weird look," Misty continued, her gaze fixed on the floor. She bit her lip and her head sort of lolled as she hummed to herself for a few seconds before looking back up at me.
"There's something wrong with me I think," she giggled nervously.
"Misty, there's something I need to tell you." I took a deep breath. "There's this thing going on in our school. A drug that got into the water system. Not many people know about it, but it's pretty serious. It makes people act... funny. Like a psychedelic, but worse cause it doesn't wear off and it fools people into believing they're in love. It's affected a few people, including you.
If Misty heard me, she didn't show it. Her gaze remained vacant, and she blinked slowly, like a disoriented frog. "Misty, are you listening?" I reached out and shook her arm.
"Hmm?" She seemed to rouse out of her stupor.
"I said there's this drug going around school that I think you may have ingested. That's why you, why you have feelings for Richie."
Misty flashed a wide, incredulous smile. "You think I'm high right now?"
"No. I mean, sort of," I stammered, "but not in the way you're thinking. A few days before Richie's accident, did he start acting any differently around you?"
Misty shrugged, her expression distant. "I guess."
"And was that around the time you started wanting to..." I forced myself to say it. "...Fuck him?"
"Maybe," she said, her voice softening. I could tell just mentioning Richie caused her mind to drift.
"Misty, you cannot go back to the hospital. The more often you go the worse the side effects will get."
She stopped talking altogether. I felt my cheeks flush, realizing how ridiculous I sounded. I was coming across crazier than her. How was I supposed to get her to understand?
"Wait a second." I grabbed my backpack and rummaged through the side pocket until I found the vial.
