Kind of snotty, jeez. Jupe was ready to fire back with something just as smart-ass, but his gaze dropped to her boobs, and he got a little discombobulated. Half the girls in his class were flat-chested. This girl . . . was not. She was a little bit round everywhere, now that he was looking closer. Not fat, exactly. Just sort of cushiony. Folded arms suddenly blocked his view. He glanced back up at her face. Uh-oh. She wasn’t happy.

“What do you want?”

At that moment, Jupe had no freaking idea. It felt like someone had scooped out his brain and replaced it with marshmallows. He tried to smile. A lot of girls at school would get all weird and spacey when he smiled at them. Unfortunately, this girl did not. He cleared his throat. “I’m Jupiter—Jupe. Uh, you can call me Jupe, I mean. My last name’s Butler.”

“Do you go to St. Pius?”

“Church?”

“Private school.”

“I go to La Sirena Junior High.”

One dark brow arched. “What are you doing out here in Morella, then? Shouldn’t you be in school?”

“I could say the same about you.”

“I am in school. My mom brought me here during lunch to help with some stuff.” She gestured with the apple toward some unspecific place down the street. “I go to Pacific Bay.”

Jupe shook his head in confusion. “I don’t know what that is.”

“It’s a middle school two blocks from here. My mom teaches drama.”

“I’m in eighth grade,” Jupe said stupidly.

She blinked a few more times and uncrossed her arms. “Me, too.”

“What’s your name?”

She opened her mouth to answer but seemed to change her mind. “Why do you want to know?”

“Because it’s polite to ask?” God. What was her problem? “Or don’t tell me. I don’t care. I didn’t ditch school to shoot the shit. I’m here to get some information.”

“You ditched school to come here?”

“That’s none of your business.” Ugh. Now she was making him cranky. He waved her to the side. “If you’ll please move, Miss No-Name. I have important business.”

She didn’t budge. “It’s not open.”

“But you just came out of there,” he protested.

“My mom’s the grandmaster, which means I can come here whenever I please. It’s not open to the public today.”

“Grandmaster? What’s that? Is that like a caliph?”

There went that brow again, sliding halfway up her forehead. “How do you know about the caliph?” she asked.

Oh, now he had her attention. Best to play it cool. He leaned back against one of the palm trees. “I know a lot of stuff. My dad’s girlfriend is a magician.”

She didn’t seem as impressed as she should have been. “Is she a member?”

“Just of the main lodge in Florida.”

“Hmph. My mom’s the head of the Bull and Scorpion. That’s what grandmaster means, since you didn’t seem to know.”

“I thought you said your mom taught drama class.”

“She does.”

“Both?”

“Why is that so strange?”

He shrugged. Cady had a normal job, too. So he guessed it wasn’t. If his weirdo drama teacher back in La Sirena was a magician, it might actually make monologues from Macbeth more interesting. “Look, I just need to talk to someone about helping me out with a project.”

She took another bite of her apple. “What kind of project are you talking about?”

“I need some information.”

“What kind of information?” she asked

“Lodge secrets.”

“You’re going to have to be more specific.”

“How do I know I can trust you?” he asked. “I don’t even know your name.”

A muffled voice called out from the other side of the door. “Coming, Mama,” the girl shouted over her shoulder before turning back to Jupe. “Sorry. Lunch break’s over, and I’ve gotta walk back to school before the bell rings.”

“Wait!” Jupe detached himself from the tree. “I’m being serious about needing help. It took me two hours to get out here.”

She hesitated. “You’ll have to come back when the lodge is open to the public.”

“Which is when?”

“Sophic Mass is tomorrow at seven p.m. And that’s seven p.m. sharp—if you’re even ten seconds late, they won’t let you in. They lock the doors. So don’t be late.” She tossed her half-eaten apple into a trash can and opened the door.

“Mass? What the hell is that? Do I have to dress up?”

“It’s a public ritual to raise energy. Bring ten dollars for a donation. We have dinner afterward. It’ll be good. My dad grills out back. And it’s casual dress. I just wear whatever I had on at school that day.”

“Seven tomorrow,” he said, more to himself than to her. How the hell was he going to catch another bus out here? He’d have to think of a good story to tell the Holidays, which made his stomach hurt a little, because he didn’t really like lying to them.

The girl slipped inside the door and turned around to look at him one last time. “I like your jacket,” she said in a softer voice, gesturing toward the monster patches on his sleeves. “A lot of old movies are better than new ones, but I usually like books the best.”