Jessica's Guide to Dating on the Dark Side by Beth Fantaskey Page A

true forces and realities. Mysterious, sure. But also measurable and perhaps understandable if we applied math and science and physics. Why couldn't my parents ever get that? Why did they have to look at the world and see magic and the supernatural where I saw numbers and elements?
     
    "I don't like Lucius, Mom, so you can just forget about alchemy, disgust, and especially lust," I promised, rinsing the casserole dish.
     
    Mom didn't seem convinced as she dried the last of our dishes. "Well, if your feelings should change, you can talk to me. I get the sense that Lucius is a very experienced young man. I wouldn't want you to get in over your head . . ."
     
    "Is Jessica 'in over her head,' somehow? Can I be of assistance?"
     
    Mom and I both turned to see Lucius standing in the doorway to the kitchen. How long had he been there? How much had he heard? "Disgust turns to lust"?
     
    If Mom was embarrassed to be caught talking about Lucius behind his back, it didn't show on her face. "Jess will be fine, Lucius. But thank you for asking. What brings you in from the garage?"
     
    "A craving for that delicious carob 'tofu ice cream' you keep in the freezer," Lucius said. He moved to the fridge and swung open the top door. "Would either of you care to join me?"
     
    "Actually, I'm headed to the barn to see some kittens your father found," Mom said to me. "I suppose there's room for one more litter, but I like to put up token resistance. If I encourage him too much, we'll be overrun." She patted our exchange student's shoulder on her way out of the kitchen. "Good night, Lucius."
     
    "Have a pleasant evening, Dr. Packwood." Lucius set the mock ice cream on the counter and took two bowls from the cupboard, holding them up. "Jessica? Can I tempt you?"
     
    "Thanks, but I'm sort of avoiding dessert."
     
    "Why?" Lucius seemed genuinely puzzled. "I know carob isn't the most enticing flavor, but dessert is one of life's greatest pleasures, don't you think? I rarely forgo it—aside from the time your father attempted that eggless, creamless pumpkin pie. It hardly seemed worth the effort of lifting the fork to one's mouth."
     
    I pulled the plug on the sink, releasing the now-cold dishwater. "Yeah, well, you're not fat. You can eat dessert."
     
    When I looked up from the swirling suds, Lucius was frowning at me. Staring me up and down.
     
    "What?" I glanced down at my tank top and shorts. "Is there something on me?"
     
    "Surely you don't think you're overweight, Jessica?" he said, disbelief in his eyes. "You don't believe that imbecile who taunted you in the cafeteria ... I knew I should have silenced him—"
     
    "This has nothing to do with Dormand—who is my problem, not yours," I said. "I just need to lose a pound or two, that's all. So calm down."
     
    Lucius pried open the container, shaking his head. "American women. Why do you all want to be nearly invisible? Why not have a physical presence in the world? Women should have curves, not angles. Not points." With the mock shudder he usually reserved for Dad's cooking, he added, "American women are too pointy. All jutting hip bones and shoulder blades."
     
    "It's fashionable to be thin," I advised him. "It looks good."
     
    "One should never confuse fashionable with beautiful," Lucius corrected. "Trust me, men don't care what fashion magazines say. They don't think skeletal women look 'good.' The great majority of men prefer curves." He dug a spoon into the frozen tofu and advanced toward me, holding it out, in my face. "Eat. Be happy to have curves. A presence."
     
    I smiled slightly, but still pushed his hand away. I fully intended to lose five pounds. "No, thanks."
     
    Lucius gave an exasperated sigh and jabbed the spoon back into the container. "Antanasia, embrace who you are. A woman who wields the power you will enjoy doesn't need to follow fashion—or be swayed by the malicious ridicule of inferiors."
     
    "Don't start with that royalty crap again," I begged, slapping