I didn't realise it was possible, but the inside of Beccy Shaw's psychic tent was even stranger than the outside.

We pushed through the hanging beads that guarded the door, and the sight that greeted us was... different. The walls were lined with shelves groaning beneath the weight of Beccy's trinkets; bottles and jars and scraps of coloured materials, crystal orbs and witch's hats. The floor was littered with rainbow feathers, sequins and plastic butterflies. Beccy had pasted posters to the walls depicting all sorts of famous magicians, like Houdini and Constantino. It was a lot.

I scrunched my nose in disgust. The air smelled of thick incense and lavender air freshener.

This is fuuuuuuked, I mouthed at Jace, twirling my finger next to my head.

Jace rolled his eyes and shoved my shoulder lightly, jerking his head towards the center of the room.

There stood the woman I assumed was Beccy Shaw. If her name didn't sound like it belonged to a psychic, her appearance made up for it. She looked as if she'd walked out of Psychic Stereotype magazine, or a Halloween catalogue for mystical fortune-tellers. She had leaned so far into the psychic thing, it almost made her less believable than if she was wearing a cheerleading skirt and a top that said PEP. The woman embodied hippy with her knitted patchwork shawl, wispy grey hair, mysterious purple-ish eyes.

She was a bit creepy.

She was also definitely a little bit high. That explained the cloying scent in the air. No one used that much air freshener unless they were trying to mask the smell of something else.

"Uh, Beccy Shaw?" said Jace.

"No shit, Sherlock," Beccy replied.

"I love you," I said immediately. Anyone who was rude to Hartley immediately earned my undying affection.

Beccy smiled kindly. "Thank you, dear."

Jace reached into his pocket for his wallet. I covered his wrist with my hand. "I can pay, you know."

It was no secret that my parents were astronomically wealthy. The kind of wealthy in which budgeting was unnecessary, the kind of wealthy that meant we could buy anything for any price and not even blink, including the services of a dubious psychic. It wasn't something I necessarily flaunted, but it was something everyone knew. It was hard to ignore after my parents purchased the famous multimillion-dollar historical home in the center of the richest suburb in the area.

I knew that some people were proud. Jace was one of those people. "I'm the one forcing you to be here, Montez. No need to flex your platinum credit card."

I shrugged. "Alright."

Beccy seemed thrilled at the mention of a platinum credit card. "What would you kids like today, hmm? A glimpse into the future, a reading of your fate?"

Jace said, "Uh, sure. That."

She motioned for us to sit down on the pink beanbags resting before her. I manoeuvred my way awkwardly down onto the beanbag, passing my crutches to Hartley. For someone who'd really put the effort into convincing me to come to Beccy, he took his seat beside me apprehensively.

Beccy didn't seem to notice. She seemed rather spaced out.

When we'd settled, Beccy pulled out a crystal ball. Personally, I thought the tarot cards seemed slightly more realistic than the crystal ball, but when someone had smoked as much weed as Beccy clearly had, remembering the meanings of a bunch of cards was probably beyond her capacity.

"Who would like to go first?" Beccy said, her voice dropping to hushed whisper. It did not make her more mysterious. The only thing mysterious about Beccy was the number of feathered boas she had wrapped around her body.

"He can go," I said, jerking my thumb at Jace.

"Sure, I'll go," said Jace, but he looked a tad nervous. I wouldn't have picked him for a superstitious person. Apparently, I didn't know as much about Jace Hartley as I thought I did.

Beccy smiled. It was a strange smile, meant to be intriguing. Maybe it worked on people who had any faith in psychics.

She bent her head over the crystal ball, her purple eyelashes fluttering closed. The movements she made with her hand were elaborate, designed to awe and confuse. They ran across the glass surface of the ball. Jace looked positively enthralled. I tried not to laugh.

Beccy looked up at Jace, her eyes slightly unfocused. "A thrilling time is in your near future, and you should prepare your mind for many pleasures ahead of you." I was concerned for a brief moment that we'd wandered into a questionable sex-based establishment hiding as a crazy psychic.

I nudged Jace warningly, attempting to pass off my laugh as a cough. Jace elbowed me back.

"The one that you will fall in love with may not remain so far out of your reach," she said. And then she blinked her eyes open and smiled dopily at us. "Perhaps quite literally."

Jace made a choking noise and I released my control on my giggles. Beccy was trying to set me up with Hartley? Unbelievable.

"I'm sorry I couldn't give you a more thorough reading, dear," Beccy told Jace. "I'm afraid your future will not be particularly complex, although you will obtain everything you desire. Success is imminent." She turned her violet gaze upon me. "I suspect I shall have more to say on the subject of your future, darling."

I suspected that had more to do with the credit card she knew was sitting in my back pocket and less to do with my complex future.

"Sure, Beccy. What fascinating things lie in store for me?"

Beccy consulted the crystal ball. She repeated many of the same hand flourishes, but seemed to tone it down given my disinterest in the voodoo bullshit that had fascinated Jace.

During her song and dance, which Jace was, once again, transfixed by, I had the opportunity to study his face. It wasn't an activity I partook in very often. I disliked his face on principle.

But I did kind of like the enraptured look on his face. He hadn't been horrible to me for days, and he'd voluntarily spent the afternoon with me—even if it was to take me to a shitty psychic. Maybe Jace and I were heading towards civility? I couldn't decide if I liked the idea or hated it. On one hand, I didn't particularly enjoy the various condiments that were sometimes soaking my hair because Jace had decided it was a funny prank. But on the other hand, I did enjoy the condiments that were sometimes soaking his hair because it was a funny prank.

Every day that he was nice to me messed with my head.

I definitely didn't trust his intentions. I knew Jace Hartley like the back of my own hand, and he had never been nice to me without some nefarious plan to turn against me. It simply wasn't in his Satanic nature.

Beccy blinked at me. "Like your friend here," she said, motioning at Jace. "You are poised for success."

"We're not friends," Jace and I said in unison.

Beccy grinned. Her grin was sharp, like the razor edge of a sword. "Well, that certainly makes other aspects of my reading more exciting."

I looked at her suspiciously. "Like what?"

"Be patient, dear," Beccy said. She didn't seem to have all that much patience for me, which was terrible customer service, really. Weren't psychics supposed to be very chilled out go-with-the-flow people? Weren't stoners supposed to be the same way, for that matter? Clearly, the fun combination had not led to extra-chill for Beccy. "First, I must tell you that on April 19th, you will be blessed with a gift that will hold significant influence over the remainder of your life. You may not realise this straight away when you first accept this gift, but your kindness and compassion will lead to a surprising good fortune."

"Brilliant!" I announced. "Can't wait."

"Though you have already been blessed with that which many long to possess, such as wealth, charisma and good looks," Beccy proclaimed, a statement to which I fluffed my hair dramatically and Jace laughed meanly. "You will find that these shall merely serve as assets as you climb to even greater heights."

Well, I sort of wanted to be a pilot, which, while a good job prospect, didn't exactly require good looks, wealth or charisma. Perhaps she meant greater heights quite literally?

I shook my head. I couldn't believe I was putting any stock in this woman's bullshit.

"Now, to the interesting part," said Beccy, with a less-than-subtle wink at Jace. He shifted uncomfortably. "In you, my dear," she told me. "I sense a great passion, fiery and bright. I also sense confusion, a line within you. Do you know what a line means to a psychic such as myself?"

I resisted the urge to make a joke about cocaine. "Enlighten me, Beccy. What does this line represent?"

"You will fall in love, my dear," she said. "And you will fall in love with the one you hate the most."

My eyes fell on Jace instantly. He was already looking at me. I was laughing before I could even try to decipher the look on his face.

"So, what you're saying," I said. "Is that I'm going to fall in love with him?" I hooked a thumb towards Jace.

Beccy shrugged. "Do you hate him?"

"Well, yeah."

"Then, yeah. That's exactly what I'm saying." Beccy scanned Jace appreciatively. I felt like knocking her chin upwards. Very creepy. "Honestly, lucky you. He's a good looking guy."

Jace smiled and patted her hand. "Thanks, Beccy. It's nice to be appreciated."

"Is that professional?"

Beccy looked at me with incredulity. "Jealous?"

"Oh my god."

Jace was grinning at me now. "Yeah, Montez. You jealous? Since you love me and all."

I narrowed my eyes. "You're the worst. Both of you."

Neither of them seemed too cut up about my statement.

Stupid Beccy Shaw and her stupid 'psychic powers'. Stupid Jace Hartley and his stupid face, which I did not love, by the way.

Jace was going to bring this up forever.

"Thank you so much, Beccy," said Jace.

"Suck up," I muttered.

"No problem, dear," said Beccy, ignoring me. I didn't like her all that much anymore.

"We'll see you around," said Jace.

"I sure hope not," I added, quiet enough that only Hartley could hear me.

Jace handed me my crutches and we left Beccy's tent. The smell of fresh air, tainted with the scent of fast food and fresh grass instead of lavender, incense, and weed, was a welcome reprieve for my lungs.

I couldn't see the rest of the group, so I made my way over to a park bench and sat down. Hartley sat beside me a moment later.

"So," he said.

"She was a fraud, Hartley," I reminded him before he could go on and on about my supposed imminent "love" for him.

His smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "I know. I realized when she mentioned your kindness and compassion. Clearly the crystal ball didn't tell her you're an asshole."

I failed dismally at concealing my snort of laughter.

Jace looked pleased with himself.

We were both silent for a long moment. We'd never done that before, I realized. We had too much to say to each other. Mostly insults. It helped that there were so many inadequacies in his personality to point out.

"Just so you know," I said. "I am deeply ashamed of you as a person, because you took until she mentioned my kindness and compassion to realise she was full of shit."

Jace shrugged. "I believe in psychics."

"She was so clearly high."

"She was what?"

I grinned. "It's cute that you couldn't tell. What an innocent little flower you are, Hartley. Someone's clearly been well behaved."

Jace nudged me. "Cute? Maybe she wasn't so full of shit after all."

"Oh, shut up."