Free Perfume by Caroline B. Cooney

breathlessly.
    “Hey,” said Luce suddenly, “what do you think you’re doing?”
    Dove could not wrench her eyes off Timmy to see what Luce was talking about. He was too handsome, too fascinating, too wonderful.
    Hesta said, “Oooh, lemme try some, Dove.”
    Dove heard her as if through valleys of fog. Nothing important, just Hesta noise-making. Who on this earth deserved Dove’s attention but Timmy O’Hay?
    Timmy’s smile became stronger, more certain … more inviting.
    Hesta said, “I thought you left it on Mr. Phinney’s desk yesterday, Dove Bar, but here it is in your purse.”
    “Dove didn’t say you could go into her purse,” accused Luce.
    Hesta laughed. “If I had asked, she would have said no, so I just went in anyway.” Hesta dug into the small slender bag and removed a small glistening object.
    Now Dove turned.
    Now Dove knew the danger.
    Now her eyes focused and her ears heard.
    Every muscle in Dove’s body contracted.
    I mustn’t breathe, she thought, I must get out of here.
    Cramped among the yanked-tight muscles, Wing began laughing. The laugh grew into a roar, like jet engines during takeoff, and filled every available molecule of Dove’s brain and thought.
    Hesta pulled the stopper out of the bottle of Venom .
    Dove struggled to her feet. Wing pushed her back down. Dove did not breathe. Wing fought her way up the throat.
    Hesta swung the bottle gently to waft the scent into the room.
    Timmy said, “Dove?” His smile was eager, boyish, special. Dove wanted that smile more than anything. It was hers, that smile, it was not directed at anybody else in the world.
    Dove shivered inside, outside, upside down. She breathed deeply, wanting love, wanting affection, wanting a boyfriend. And all those were only inches and moments away. “Timmy?” she whispered.
    “I’m—uh—well—going to a hot air balloon festival Saturday morning. It’s really early.”
    “Yes,” said Dove, breathing again. Nothing will happen, she told herself, people in love are safe from bad things, I’m sure of it.
    “I mean really early,” said Timmy. Their eyes were locked. “We have to be there at six A.M. Because they can only take off in the dawn atmosphere.”
    “Yes,” said Dove.
    “It’s really beautiful, Dove,” said Timmy, eyes on fire. “There’ll be seventy-five huge balloons. As brightly colored as Christmas tree decorations, sailing in the sky.”
    Dove would have gone to a gathering of garbage trucks if that was what Timmy wanted to do. At three in the morning.
    Joy requires a deep breath. A wonderful satisfying date with oxygen. Dove was laughing now, nodding, smiling, filling her lungs …
    … with Venom .
    “You don’t see everything when you’re not using the body,” explained Wing out loud, using Dove’s mouth, Dove’s lips, Dove’s tongue. “So you didn’t see me yesterday taking the perfume bottle back off Mr. Phinney’s desk and putting it in your purse.”
    Dove was falling backward, deep, deep, deep down. The dizzy plunge knocked away all thoughts, all speech … all hope.
    “So will you come?” said Timmy anxiously.
    Hesta stuck her face between them, but Dove could not see her very clearly. “What do you mean, ‘you don’t see everything,’ Dove?” said Hesta.
    “Of course I’ll come, Timmy,” said Wing.
    No, no, please! cried Dove, as gagged as if there were tape over her mouth. Timmy asked me Wing, I’m the one going with Timmy!
    But I’m the one who accepted the invitation, said Wing. Her cruel smile lit the inside of her head like green neon at the end of a gloomy tunnel.
    “Great,” said Timmy, taking the hand he thought was Dove’s. He beamed at the girl he thought was Dove. “Who knows what could happen at an event like this?” he said, flirting with the girl he thought was Dove.
    “Indeed,” said the girl who was Wing. “Who knows?”

Chapter 13
    “L UCE?” SAID WING INTO THE telephone. “It’s Dove.”
    She knows the telephone numbers