Wish on All the Stars

by Lisa Schroeder

  Title Page

  Dedication

  One: A Special Gift

  Two: Plan in Place

  Three: Welcome Back, Maybe?

  Four: Tea for Three

  Five: A Brilliant Idea

  Six: Wishing for Normal

  Seven: Keeping Secrets

  Eight: Persuasion Is Hard

  Nine: Cat’s out of the Bag

  Ten: Not Fair

  Eleven: The Invisible Shark

  Twelve: A New Plan

  Thirteen: I Wish It Was Easier

  Fourteen: Nothing Makes Sense

  Fifteen: Crashing Waves

  Sixteen: Best Ever

  Seventeen: Here, Kitty, Kitty

  Eighteen: Animals Everywhere

  Nineteen: Surprises Galore

  Twenty: Pets Are the Best

  Twenty-One: Shelter Friends

  Twenty-Two: Thanks, Mom

  Twenty-Three: The Big Day

  Twenty-Four: Artist in Pain

  Twenty-Five: Surprise!

  Twenty-Six: We Do

  Twenty-Seven: Splendid

  Twenty-Eight: A Favorite New Song

  Sneak Peek

  About the Author

  Also by Lisa Schroeder

  Copyright

  Emma pulled a small red gift bag splattered with blue and gold stars out of her backpack. “I got you guys something,” she told us, her green eyes twinkling like stars as she smiled.

  Carmen beamed. “My very own squirrel monkey? Oh, Emma. You shouldn’t have!”

  “Why, what a good guess, a squirrel monkey that could fit inside a seashell,” Emma joked.

  I gasped. “A miniature monkey! Wouldn’t that be cool?”

  “They’d become the most popular pet, for sure,” Emma said.

  “Hey, you know what?” I said. “We should go to the San Diego Zoo sometime and check out the monkeys together. The zoo I went to a lot in Bakersfield, where my dad works, is only for animals native to California.”

  “So, no monkeys?” Carmen said. “That’s sad.”

  “Totally sad,” I replied.

  “But now that we’ve been talking about it,” Carmen said, “I don’t want to just visit monkeys, I want my very own to take home.”

  Emma held out her hands like a referee. “Okay, guys, sorry to tell you, but I didn’t get you tiny squirrel monkeys. Any other guesses?”

  I stared at the bag, wondering what it could be. We’d quickly eaten our lunches and then asked for passes to the library so we could have our first official meeting of the Starry Beach Club. Just five days before, we’d finally met Carmen, the girl who’d responded to my letter after Emma and I tossed bottles containing secret messages into the sea. My bottle apparently washed ashore as soon as we left, and Carmen, who’d been building a sand castle with her brother, couldn’t resist. She’d grabbed the bottle, read the letter, then sent me an email that said, among other things, Do you really want to be a part of something special? Because I have an idea. I wish on stars all the time. I bet you do, too. And I was thinking about all the other people like us. Sometimes their wishes come true, but sometimes they don’t. Maybe the stars need helpers now and then. So let’s help. Maybe we could call ourselves the Starry Beach Club …

  She’d told me to find someone’s wish and make it come true, then signed her email as “Some Kid at the Beach.” Finding a good wish and making it come true wasn’t as easy as it might sound. But finally, Emma and I made something wonderful happen for our kind old neighbor, Mr. Dooney.

  Now, with Carmen’s help, it was time to move on to our next wish-granting project: saving our town’s bookmobile.

  “Okay, here’s a guess,” I said. “You found a nice, big parking space for the bookmobile.”

  Carmen chimed in. “One with a beautiful view of the ocean for Mr. and Mrs. Button.”

  “Mrs. Button can write in her notebook of beautiful things,” I continued, “while watching the magical surf hit the sand.”

  Emma stuck her bottom lip out for a second before she replied, “If only.”

  The bookmobile, along with the people who ran it, Mr. and Mrs. Button, had become one of the best parts about moving to Mission Beach from my hometown of Bakersfield. But last week we’d learned that the new manager of the grocery store where the Buttons parked the bookmobile wouldn’t allow them to stay for free anymore. They’d have to start paying rent or leave.

  I gave Emma’s arm a squeeze. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to make you feel bad. Can we just open the gift, please? I’m dying to know!”

  She reached into the bag and pulled out three little boxes wrapped in baby-blue tissue paper. “One for you, Juliet,” she said, pushing one toward me. “One for you, Carmen. And one for me.”

  “I love that you wrapped one for yourself, even though you know what it is,” Carmen said.

  “Would’ve ruined the surprise if I didn’t,” she said. “Okay, on the count of three, let’s open them. One. Two. Three.”

  I carefully tore the tissue paper while Carmen and Emma ripped theirs open like little kids on Christmas morning.

  “Oh, Emma, it’s so cute,” Carmen squealed. I stayed focused on my own box so I wouldn’t have the surprise ruined.

  “I’m so glad you like it, even if it’s not a miniature squirrel monkey. Meanwhile, I guess Juliet’s going to save the three inches of paper and reuse it,” Emma teased.

  I opened my box. Inside was a teensy-tiny bottle with a note rolled up inside it. I picked up the bottle and saw that it hung on a pretty silver chain. “Oh my gosh,” I said. “It’s perfect! Where’d you find these?”

  “Molly helped me order them from Etsy,” she said. “It’s a website where people sell things they’ve made. In case you were wondering why I kept putting off our first official meeting, this is why. I wanted to wait until they came in the mail.”

  As we all went to work attaching them around our necks, I asked, “Did you write us notes on the tiny pieces of paper using your best tiny handwriting?”

  “No, but you can pretend I did,” she replied.

  “What would you have written?” Carmen asked.

  “Um …” She thought for a moment. “I would have said, ‘Always remember, wishes do come true.’ ” Then, in almost a whisper, because we were in the library after all, she started singing, “When you wish upon a star …”

  I joined in, quietly, on the next line.

  “Is that from a movie?” Carmen asked.

  Emma often broke into song during conversations and I was totally used to it by now. Even loved it, actually. Carmen, however, still seemed a little surprised by it.

  “Yes,” I said. “Pinocchio. I think. Is that right, Emma?”

  “That would be correct,” she replied.

  “Oh, okay,” Carmen said. “I don’t think I’ve seen that one.”

  “It’s really good,” Emma said. “Your little brother would probably like it. And you, too, of course. I have the DVD at home if you want to borrow it. Our family loves movies, especially Disney ones. Does your family watch movies very often?”

  She shrugged. “Yeah. I guess. Anyway, are we going to get to our official business? If we don’t hurry, the bell’s gonna ring.”

  This was what usually happened when we asked Carmen something about her family—she changed the subject. She was so different from how Emma had been when I’d first met her. Emma and I had hit it off right away. And when she’d introduced me to her big family and shown me their cute ice cream shop, the Frozen Spoon, I’d liked her even more. I definitely liked Carmen, too, but I was still getting to know her, and it seemed like there was a lot I didn’t know.

  I thought of my own family situation and how, at first, I hadn’t want
ed to tell Emma that my parents were separated. Maybe Carmen had something she was nervous about telling us. Maybe she just needed a little more time to get to know us and to see that we would never say or do anything to hurt her. All I knew was that I really wanted to prove to her she could trust me.

  Things I know about Carmen

  *    She lives with her mom and her eight-year-old brother, Oscar.

  *    She’s never mentioned her dad, so I don’t know anything about him.

  *    She builds incredible sand castles.

  *    She loves Vincent van Gogh and his artwork, just like I do.

  *    She walks to school from her apartment while Emma and I have to ride the bus.

  *    Her mom is from Guatemala and she told us her mom makes the best chiles rellenos in the world.

  *    She doesn’t like to swim in the ocean because she’s afraid of sharks.

  *    When I told her I have a cat named Casper, she said she couldn’t wait to meet him and that she’s wanted a cat for as long as she can remember. Her mom has always said no.

  *    She loves monkeys, especially the very cute squirrel monkey.

  *    She’s Starry Beach Club Member #1 and I like her a lot.

  I looked at the clock on the wall above the door of the library. We had five more minutes until lunch was over.

  “What do you guys think we should do?” I asked as I fished the Tic Tacs out of my pocket and passed them around to my friends. “To save the bookmobile?”

  Emma popped one in her mouth before she leaned in. “I think we basically have two choices: We can either figure out a way to convince the manager to let the Buttons stay for free or try to raise money to pay the rent.”

  “He should let them stay for free,” I said. “I bet he hasn’t even thought about the fact that it’s good for business. Don’t you think that sometimes people stop in at the little library and then decide they might as well run into the store for groceries, too?”

  Carmen’s fingers fiddled with her new necklace. “Especially when the bakery is making something that smells delicious.”

  “Maybe that’s what we should do first,” Emma said. “We should try to convince the new manager to let the bookmobile stay for free.”

  “And how do we do that, exactly?” I asked.

  “We could go and talk to him,” Carmen said.

  “I’m afraid he’d take one look at us, see that we’re kids, and laugh in our faces,” I said. “I mean, do you really think he’d take us seriously?”

  Carmen shrugged. “We won’t know until we try.”

  We were quiet for a minute, lost in our own thoughts. As I put the mints back in my pocket, I tried to imagine the three of us going into the store and asking to speak to the manager. “Why?” the clerk would ask. “You girls have some bubble gum you’d like to return? Didn’t like the flavor or did it turn your teeth blue? I’m sorry, kiddos, but we have a no-return policy on bubble gum.”

  Just thinking about walking in there and asking for the manager made me feel woozy.

  “Carmen’s right,” Emma said. “We need to at least try.”

  “What will we say?” I asked.

  Emma cleared her throat. “Hello, Mr. Manager.” She leaned in and whispered, “We wouldn’t call him Mr. Manager, though. We’d call him by his name.” She sat up straight and continued in her most serious voice, “The three of us would like to urge you to allow the bookmobile to remain on your property for free. It’s good for the community, it’s good for your business, and it’s good for kids like us because it helps keep us out of trouble.”

  “We’re such troublemakers,” I joked. “Trying to make people’s wishes come true is such a horrible thing to do.”

  “Can we tell him it makes him look like a jerk if he forces them to move?” Carmen asked.

  “Hm,” Emma said, tucking her wavy blond hair behind her ear. “I don’t think calling him names would be a good move. We need to …”

  Her voice trailed off, like she was looking for the right word.

  “Kill him with kindness?” I asked. “That’s something my mom likes to say.”

  “I’ve never heard that,” Carmen said. “What does it mean?”

  “It means that sometimes a person expects you to be mean and angry,” I explained. “But instead, you do the opposite, and you’re so sickly sweet, it’s like this huge surprise and it usually works some kind of magic and you get what you want.”

  “I love that,” Emma said. “Yes. That’s what we’ll do. We’ll be so kind, he won’t know what hit him and he’ll tell us that of course the bookmobile can stay at no cost.”

  “Maybe he’ll even throw in a year’s supply of cookies from the bakery,” I said. “The gooey fudge ones they sell there. Mmmm, they’re so good. Thanks a lot, friends. Now I’ll be dreaming of those cookies for the rest of the day.”

  “Welp, now we know what Juliet’s biggest wish is,” Emma said. “All the fudge cookies she can eat.”

  We all laughed, and then the bell rang. We stood up and grabbed our backpacks. “When should we do it?” Carmen asked. “Go and see the manager, I mean?”

  “What about after school today?” I asked.

  “I can’t,” Emma said. “I have to help at the ice cream shop after school.”

  “Tomorrow?” Carmen suggested.

  “I’m going to my dad’s for the weekend and I’m leaving right after school,” I said as we moved toward the door. “So I guess that leaves us with Monday.”

  “Monday it is,” Emma said. “That’ll give me time to practice being kind and convincing at the same time.”

  “Do you want me or Juliet to come up with something to say?” Carmen asked.

  I liked that she was asking this question. She wanted to make sure we were all doing everything we could to help Mr. and Mrs. Button. Emma was probably the most confident of the three of us, but maybe there was something we could come up with so Emma didn’t have to do all the work. Also, wouldn’t it look funny if there were three of us there but only one of us was speaking?

  “Maybe you can brainstorm other reasons why the bookmobile should be allowed to stay for free,” Emma said. “The more reasons we have, the harder it will be for him to refuse, right?”

  I looked at Carmen and she nodded. “Yeah, we can do that,” I said.

  “Okay, see you guys later,” Carmen said as she gave a little wave.

  “See ya!” Emma said while I waved back.

  “I wish she had P.E. with us,” I said as walked toward the locker room.

  “Same.”

  “Have you noticed that she doesn’t really like talking about herself?” I asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “It seems like every time we ask her something about her life or her family, she kind of … changes the subject? Like, when you asked her if her family watches movies very often.”

  Emma shrugged as she dropped her backpack on the bench next to our lockers. A couple of other girls came in, talking and laughing. “She told us they did, didn’t she?”

  I looked at the girls and knew this wasn’t really the right time to talk about this.

  “I just hope …”

  “What?” Emma asked.

  “I hope she knows she can trust us. That’s all.”

  Emma looked like she was going to say something to reassure me, but a bunch of other girls came in, so I moved over to my locker.

  “Who’s ready to play badminton?” a girl yelled.

  “Stop making such a racket,” another girl yelled back. “Get it? Racquet?”

  A few girls groaned while others laughed.

  Middle school P.E.—where one minute you’re miserable and the next you’re laughing at the ridiculousness of it all.

  Reasons the bookmobile should stay for free

  1.   The bookmobile is pretty and people are drawn to pretty things.

  2.   To
urists need books, and if they don’t remember to pack some, what are they supposed to do if there aren’t any bookstores nearby?

  3.   Books make people happy and happy people eat more, so they’ll buy more groceries?

  4.   ??????

  (This is hard. Why isn’t there an easy way to say: A good human would let them stay, so just be a good human?)

  Casper sat on my bed, watching me as I packed for the weekend. “I’m really sorry I can’t take you with me,” I told him before I leaned down and kissed the top of his soft, most kissable head. “Mom will take good care of you. Remember she’s a vet, so she basically lives for animals, Casper. Like, I’m pretty sure she loves animals more than she loves her own children. So you’ll be fine, all right? I promise.”

  He stared at me with his green eyes, his little pink nose twitching ever so slightly. He was an excellent listener and I was sure he understood everything I said. Everything!

  I went to my dresser, grabbed a couple of pairs of socks, and tossed them into the suitcase. I picked up my phone to see if I’d missed a text from my Bakersfield best friend, Inca. I’d asked her when she wanted to get together, but she hadn’t texted me back yet. I was so excited to see her. Excited to see my dad, too. Just … excited!

  Until Miranda came in and acted like the world was coming to a fast and furious end. My sister is the queen of ruining a perfectly good moment. It’s a little like biting into a perfectly decorated cupcake and finding walnuts.

  “I don’t want to go,” she wailed, throwing herself face-first on my bed, causing Casper to run off like a firecracker had been lit under the bed.

  “Hey,” I said. “That wasn’t nice. And what are you talking about? We get to see Dad. Don’t you want to see him?”

  “I guess, but Lucy and the other girls are going for brunch on Sunday and getting pedicures and who knows what other fun things, and I’m going to miss all of it. And the bus, Pooh. We have to ride the bus!” She groaned. “It’s so lame.”

  “I don’t think it’s going to be that bad,” I told her. “Bring a book. Or sleep. Whatever. It’s four hours, not four days. You’ll survive.”

  “Do you think the bus has a way to keep our phones charged?” she asked, rolling over onto her back.