Mysteria Nights

“Take it from me. When dealing with men, fairy or otherwise, it’s always best to be in charge and direct. Plus, you like control, and you’ll definitely be in control if the date’s on your turf.”

“I’ll think about it,” Summer said, her eyes moving back to where Ken was perched in the middle of the group of fawning fairies at the bar.

“What you should think about is taking another gulp of that martini, putting on some of this nasty red lipstick, fluffing your hair, and marching yourself right over to that bar and extending the big invite to fairy boy.” Jenny fished in her purse until she pulled out a tube of lipstick called Roaring Red and tossed it to Summer. Then she gave the giggling fairies a contemptuous glance. “You’re cuter than those pastel pansies; don’t let them intimidate you. Female fairies would lust after a snake if you put jeans on it and called it Bob. Everyone knows how easy they are, and no one takes them seriously.”

“I guess I could.” Summer gnawed her lip again. “I mean, we are old friends.”

“Exactly.”

She took a big drink of her martini, letting the alcohol burn through her body. Another gale of giggles erupted from the fairies, and Summer seemed to shrink in on herself. “I can’t. I just can’t. It’s so . . . I don’t know . . . unplanned.”

“Girlfriend, life is unplanned. Get used to it. Okay, how about this deal: if you ask Kenny-benny over for dinner, I’ll take my class on the field trip to the gallery with you tomorrow and be sure the hormones and germs act right.”

Summer sat up straighter. “You’ll come with me?”

Jenny shrugged. “I’m getting ready to start Romeo and Juliet with my freshmen, so I might as well. Plus, your students will probably behave dreadfully and need an ever-so-firm disciplinary hand,” she finished with a gleeful smile.

“Promise?”

“That I’ll jump squarely into your students’ shit? Absolutely.”

“Not that. Do you promise you’ll come with me if I ask Ken out?”

“Yep.”

“Even if he says no?”

“Don’t put that negative energy out there. Of course he’ll say yes, and of course, regardless of the fairy, I’ll go with you tomorrow. Now gird yourself and go ask him out.”

“Fine. Okay. I can do this.” Summer gulped the last of the martini, ran her fingers through her curly blond hair, and in two quick swipes of Jenny’s lipstick completed the transformation from Nice New Teacher into tipsy Discipline Nymph Trainee.

Just before she stood up, Jenny motioned for her to lean across the table. “Here, this will help.” She deftly unbuttoned the top two buttons of Summer’s blouse. “That’s better. I’d do a quick make-yournipples-hard spell, but what with your opposite magic, I’m afraid of what would happen.”

“Don’t even think about it,” Summer said. She stood up and tossed back her hair.

“You are beautiful and powerful and desirable. Just keep telling yourself that.”

“Okay. Okay. Okay.” Nodding woodenly, Summer made her way to the bar.

“Kenny-benny, sweetie-weetie! You have a glob of cheese on your lip. Want me to get that for you, baby?” One of the twin fairies cooed.

“No, let me!” said her sister, using a tip of her wing to push her sibling out of her way so she could angle her lithe body closer to Ken.

“Girls, girls—settle! I can wipe my lip myself,” Ken said, laughing.

“We know you can, honey-bunny!” said one twin.

“But it’s so much more fun if we help you!” trilled the other twin.

None of them noticed Summer. At all. So she drew a deep breath, closed her eyes, and told herself, When I speak, I’m going to pretend to be Jenny. She opened her eyes, lowered her voice, and said, “Excuse me, I need a word with Ken.” Summer almost jumped at the strong, stern tone she had (somehow) used. All of the fairies, including the ditzy waitress who was carrying their veggie pizza from the oven, turned to stare at her. I’m Jenny . . . a Certified Discipline Nymph . . . beautiful . . . powerful . . . desirable . . .

“Hi, Summer,” Ken grinned at her. “Do you want me?”

“Y-yes, I do,” Summer stumbled briefly, but then she straightened her spine and lifted her chin. “Could I speak with you? Privately?” She didn’t let herself look at the scantily clad, beautiful fairies.

“Okeydokey!” Ken said. “Hang on, girls. I’ll be right back.” He took Summer’s elbow and moved her to an unoccupied spot down the counter. “What’s up?”

“Ken, I’d like to . . . um . . .” She swallowed the lump that had suddenly risen in her throat and made another attempt. “What I mean is would you want to—” Thankfully, a fit of ridiculously loud coughing from Jenny interrupted Summer’s babble and gave her a chance to pull herself together. “Ken, would you like to come over tomorrow night and have dinner with me?” she finally managed to say.

“Yeah, sounds cool. Are you living at your sister’s cabin?”

“My sister’s cabin. Yes.”

“Great. So, I’ll see you about eight?”

“About eight. Yes.”

“Want me to bring something to drink?”

“Something to drink. Yes.”

“Okay, see you tomorrow at eight!” He smiled again and went back to his seat at the bar.

“Okay. Yes. Yes. Okay,” she told the air as she moved back to their table.

“Here, have the rest of my martini. You look shell-shocked. Are you okay? What did he say? How did it go?”

“Yes. He said yes.” Summer said and then gulped Jenny’s martini.

Three

“Hangover. Ugh, I sooo have a hangover.” Summer shakily sipped the sludge that almost passed for coffee she’d gotten from the teachers’ lounge.

“I’m usually not a big proponent of control, but three martinis was probably one and a half too many,” Jenny said. She studied Summer with a critical eye. “Good thing you’re young. Only the very young can still look as good as you do this morning and deal with a wicked hangover.”

“You keep talking like you’re so much older than me, but you can’t be over thirty,” Summer said irritably.

“Oh, girlfriend, don’t be silly. I’m two hundred and thirty-five. And a half.”

Summer choked on her coffee.

“Discipline Nymphs are some of the most long-lived of the nymphs. It’s because discipline is good for body and soul.”

“I had no idea,” Summer said.

“Well, girlfriend, you do now.”

“Hey, speaking of stuff I’m confused about, would you please explain to me why a Certified Discipline Nymph is so roll-your-eyes about my control issues? Isn’t control pretty much just another word for discipline?”

“Oh, my poor, deluded young friend. Let Ms. Sullivan help you. Discipline is what you have to be good at so you can release control. Girlfriend, you’re too tightly wrapped. Flex those discipline muscles, relax that snoreable übercontrol you carry around with you, and you’ll be amazed at the results.”

“I dunno . . .” Summer said doubtfully. “But I can tell you I never thought of discipline as the antithesis of control before.”

“Gives you a whole new outlook on discipline, doesn’t it?”

“You’re right about that. I can tell you that I’m going to start flexing my discipline muscles with the hormones and germs in my class. Like you said last night, I’m only going to call them by their last names, miss or