The next morning found Sophie with her blonde hair in two braids, sitting on the Redeks' couch in her usual faded jeans and red hoodie, holding a steaming cup of hot chocolate.
She had turned up way too early as usual because her mom had to go to work, but they all were used to it. She spent half her time at Marella's anyway.
Marella was in the shower, and Sophie was downstairs with Mrs. Redek, listening with a vacantly bemused expression on her face, as Mrs. Redek prattled on and on about some nonexistent garden gnome she thought she had bought.
Mrs. Redek's mental state was delicate to say the least, a result of her fall from the roof some years ago. Even if they didn't dare ask, everyone had drawn their own conclusions about what really happened that night.
It was, like Sophie's dad liked to say, "We're all a mess, kiddo. Some more visibly than others."
So that was that, but she did make the best hot chocolate.
"Hey Sophie!", called Marella, leaning over the banister. Her typically disheveled blonde hair which twisted in and out of tiny braids was damp, looking surprisingly tame and clinging to her shoulders. She was a tiny, pixie-like girl, with huge, ice blue eyes which gave her the appearance of a fairy from the folktales.
Even if she did look like a delicate piece of dandelion fluff which the wind could blow away any second, she was pretty tough. She always said exactly what she felt, never sugarcoated anything, but her blunt remarks hurt those who didn't know how to deflect them.
She had a dry sense of humour, and a quick, sharp tongue which took a while to get used to, but she was really a genuinely nice person who always looked out for her friends, and she and Sophie got along very well.
Sophie gulped down the last of her hot chocolate and stood up. "Aunt Caprise?", she ventured gently. "I'm going up to Marella's room now. You can finish the story later, okay?"
Mrs. Redek waved her hand dismissively. "Yes, yes, dear. Go on", she said absently. Sophie left her softly muttering to herself, toying with the ends of her blonde hair, which was just as unruly as Marella's. She cast one last worried glance in her direction before heading upstairs, and went into Marella's room, keeping the door open just a crack.
Marella's room was an explosion of stuff, from books, CDs and clothes to photos and posters crammed into every available bit of wall space. Sophie pushed a pile of laundry off the bed and onto the floor and flopped down on the patchwork quilt.
Marella settled in her desk chair and said, "So."
"So", Sophie echoed. "What?"
"Aren't you excited? We're going to find our soulmates!"
"Whoa. No way. That was sonot the deal. I'm watching. That's it. Why do you even believe in soulmates? And you really think the voodoo lady will find ours?"
"And you don't? What is wrong with you? It's so crazy that there's someone out there, perfect for you and when you meet..." She gazed dreamily into the distance.
"She's not a voodoo lady, anyway", said Marella, coming back to reality. "She's some random fortune teller Miss Sparkles dug up."
The bell dinged. "Speak of the devil", said Sophie, pushing herself off the bed. "Come on. You're driving.
******
"Whoa, slow down! You'll drive right past it", said the teal eyed girl leaning out of the window. Her dark, glossy hair was perfectly styled, and her makeup immaculate, complete with glittery eye-shadow.
"Right here. Stop.", said Biana Vacker, putting her head back into the car. Marella hit the brakes and killed the engine.
"All right ladies, who's ready to find our soulmates?", Biana squealed, practically leaping out of the car.
"Not me." Sophie stepped out with a lot less enthusiasm.
Still, she couldn't help smiling as Biana threw one arm around Sophie and one arm around Marella and dragged them to the entrance of one house in the row of neat whitewashed terraced houses.
The tiny lobby was bright, smelling of air freshener and floor cleaner.
Biana went right to a polished wooden door at the end of the hallway.
It had a small plaque on it, which read,
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"Madame Camille", mused Marella. "Should I knock?"
Before anyone could answer, she tapped the door twice.
"Come, my children", said a smooth, deep voice.
Sophie stepped back hastily. "I'm not going in there. You'll need a witness when you get kidnapped. And, uh, don't eat anything she gives you."
Biana grabbed her arm and pulled her back. "You're not getting out of this so easily."
Sophie rolled her eyes. "Get ready for an epic I told you so when we're bound and gagged and ready to be sold off to drug dealers."
"All right, Miss Drama. You're still coming."
The smell of incense assaulted them when they stepped into the apartment.
It was an explosion of colour. Tapestries, drapes, masks, pillows, dolls, all in rich purples, blues, pinks, reds, and greens were crammed into every inch of available space, and at the end of the room sat the fortune teller herself.
There was a tiny trestle table in front of her, covered in a mirrored patchwork tablecloth, which held a sparkling crystal ball.
She was a tiny, wrinkled, walnut-like old lady, with creased, dark, leathery skin. Her iron-grey hair was pulled back, and she wore a simple tunic made from what looked like the same material as the tablecloth. A small nose piercing sparkled in the dim light.
Suddenly, Sophie hiccupped. "Ah!", said the lady. "The spirits are thinking of you."
"But I- I don't even want a reading."
"It's the nonbelievers who need to be guided to the path more than others, dear. Come, sit."
The three of them sank down on the cushions in front of the table.
