by Kim Tomsic
During science, I can’t talk to Bailee since I have Miss Clonts and she and Priscilla have Mrs. Churnside. I spend the period doodling a cartoon of Godzilla. It ends up looking like a first grader’s salamander.
After class, I pass Justin by the water fountain. “Hey, Sage!” He gives me that awesome lopsided grin before rushing toward the seventh-grade hallway. It’s like spotting a rainbow in the middle of a storm—red, orange, and yellow dance over me. I wave hello and try to hold on to the colors, but the second he disappears in the crowd, a gray cloud moves in and I’m back to worrying about Bailee.
I get to math class before Bailee and sit in my regular spot. The room smells like the chicken noodle soup steaming from Mrs. Floss’s green mug.
Mrs. Floss watches me pull out my homework and smiles at me. It makes me startle. She’s never smiled at me in her entire life. “You look nice today, Sage.”
Holy magenta! I think, before recovering and saying, “Um, thank you, Mrs. Floss.”
Curtis walks in and drops his green canvas backpack next to his regular seat beside me. Gratitude sprouts in my chest. He could have picked any desk, but he’s still willing to sit near me.
“Sorry again about this morning, Curtis.” I try to meet his eyes but end up looking at his blue-and-white Nikes. “I was such a jerk.”
“We’re chill,” he says, and he’s not even prickly when he says it.
“Really?” I lift my gaze. “Thanks. I swear I mean it. I wasn’t myself this morning.”
“I know that.” His smile is genuine and full of forgiveness. Now I just need to win Bailee over.
My foot is bouncing like crazy. I stop it but start cracking my knuckles. Once Bailee walks in the door and sees that Curtis and I are friends again, she’ll sit beside me. I’ll show her my lame salamander doodle, and she’ll laugh, and all will be well.
Finally, while I’m unloading my pencils, paper, and calculator, she arrives. I sit up. “Look at my lousy doodle.” I nervous-laugh.
She doesn’t smile. “I’ll meet you at the water fountain at lunchtime, Sage.” She heads to the far, far left corner of the room.
I sink in my chair, my face burning.
Priscilla glides into the room just as the bell rings.
“Priscilla,” Mrs. Floss says. “You’re tardy.” Mrs. Floss uncaps a fat red Sharpie and makes a mark in her book.
Priscilla slips into her front-row seat. “But—”
“Please do not sass me.” Mrs. Floss looks over the rim of her glasses. “You need to be seated before the bell rings, not while it’s ringing.”
Whoa. I sit up straight. If Mrs. Floss is going to grump at her favorite student, I don’t stand a chance. Mrs. Floss shuffles papers and catches me watching her. I smile nervously.
And here’s the thing. Mrs. Floss smiles back for the second time in her life, teeth and all. The curse is definitely reversing.
“Okay, people,” she says. “Trade papers.”
Mrs. Floss picks up her mug and begins sipping her soup. I exchange homework sheets with Curtis. We had to write expressions with variables and also evaluate the distributive law of multiplication. I ace everything! And that’s pretty much how class goes.
When the end bell rings, I jump from my seat. I don’t care if I’m being pushy. Lunchtime is finally here, and I’m ready to clear the air with Bailee.
“Sage,” Mrs. Floss says. “Will you stay for a moment, please?”
“Yes, ma’am.” I stand by her desk, shifting from foot to foot, watching as Bailee leaves the classroom.
“Nice work with your variables today.” Mrs. Floss studies my face. “You really excelled.”
“Thank you.” My foot taps.
“I was concerned about your work on the geometry unit, but you seem to have a firm grasp on what we’re working on now.”
I nod, wondering how long this is going to take.
“I do hope you keep it up.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I glance at the door.
“Okay. Have a nice lunch.”
“Thank you.” I rush out to meet Bailee at the water fountain. She’s not here yet. I line up behind Gigi and Jada. Jada says something about crickets, and the hair on my arms stands on end.
“What’s up with that?” I say.
“Hey.” Jada turns and smiles at me.
“Is there news on Cricket-gate?” I force a smile, trying to seem casual.
Gigi laughs. “Come on, Sage. It was a good prank.” She says this in a friendly tone, not in a mean-girl way. “I’m not going to out you to Mrs. Downy, but everyone knows you were the last one to leave the locker room.”
Bailee drops her backpack by our feet, her face telling me she heard everything.
Puce! Sepia! Mauve!
“No,” Bailee says. “Didn’t you guys leave at the same time?” She looks from Gigi to me.
I swallow. Pressure pulses at the side of my head. “Yeah.” My eye twitches.
Gigi laughs. “Okay.” She takes a sip from the water fountain.
“Sage?” Bailee says. “You didn’t do it. Right?”
“Hey, guys,” Hudson says, walking up with Steven and Curtis. “Want to do lunch together again?”
“Sure!” I say, avoiding eye contact with Bailee. I glance at Jada, who’s filling her water bottle, at Hudson untwisting his cap, and down the hall. I see Justin walking toward us, and I wave and call, “Hi, Justin.”
“Sage?” Bailee says.
I feel sick.
“Mrs. Downy said the crickets came through a hole,” I say. “Of course I didn’t do this.” My eye spasms. I turn to Hudson. “Same table, Hud?”
“Yep. Are you okay?” he asks. “Your eye is freaking out.”
“Hey, Sage.” Justin joins the group. “What’s going on with your eye?”
I want to scream for everybody to shut up about my eye! “It’s fine! I got dust in it. Geez.” I rub it.
Bailee is quiet, maybe weighing the circumstantial evidence in her head. She’s definitely not buying my dust-in-the-eye story.
“Um, Justin, this is everybody. Everyone, this is Justin. He just moved here from Colorado Springs.” I wave a shaky hand across the group. Justin says hello and introduces himself person to person. I glance at Bailee again. The air crackles with my guilt. Any minute, my lie is going to unravel.
“So you—” Bailee says as Priscilla walks up.
“What’s up?” Priscilla says, interrupting.
“Planning lunch,” Hudson says.
“Hey, Priscilla.” Jada points down the hall. “Your mom is here and she looks pretty frantic.”
“Huh?” Priscilla breaks out of the group and we watch as she heads to her mom. Mrs. Petty says something and Priscilla’s chin falls. She cups her hands over her face. Her mom puts an arm around her shoulders, hugs her close, and walks her out the door.
“What do you think that was about?” Justin asks.
Everyone talks at once.
“I don’t know,” I say.
“I hope she’s okay,” Bailee says.
“Me too,” echo Jada and Gigi.
“It looked kind of serious,” I say.
“You guys!” Hudson says, staring at his phone. “I just did a Noodler search. There’s something in the local headlines about Goldview First National Bank.”
“You think there was another robbery?” Ryan flashes a quick look at me.
I flinch. Mud-colored shame cakes my chest—shame, shame, shame.
“My bad, Sage. Sorry,” Ryan says. “I didn’t mean to bring up a sore subject.”
“It’s fine.”
Justin tries to make eye contact, but I can’t.
Bailee squeezes my hand, like aloe on a burn. I exhale and squeeze back.
“Something stormy is up,” Steven says.
Hudson clicks more buttons, and Curtis reads the screen over his shoulder.
“Oh no. It’s bad.” Hudson hands the phone to Steven.
Steven scans it. “¡A
y, bendito!”
“What?” we say.
“Priscilla’s father”—he clears his throat and puts on his Flores Report voice—“was escorted out of the bank by police and federal agents. He’s being investigated for embezzlement!”
Chapter 28
After school, Bailee and I jog-walk down Seventh Street, my heart pounding and my words flying a hundred miles a minute. “Minerva has to fix the curse-reverse. It’s all a mess—my momma, Priscilla’s dad, and us! Our friendship was this close to taking a nosedive!”
“She’ll fix it,” Bailee says, biting her lower lip.
I’m grateful my best friend is talking to me again and hasn’t brought up crickets. Now I offer up a silent prayer that Minerva doesn’t mention my quadrupling wish.
We rush across the street, a cool breeze blowing our hair.
We pass Aspen Avenue and Cedar. We walk by the car with the cracked windshield and flat tires. When we near the city bus stop, I see something in Minerva’s window. “What is that?”
“I can’t tell.” Bailee squints.
The “Don’t Walk” sign blinks at the crosswalk. A few cars drive past and then we both see it clearly: a big “Closed” sign in Minerva’s window!
“Oh no,” I scream. “Closed as in closed forever?”
The light changes, and we dash across the street to Minerva’s storefront. I grab the door handle and jiggle it even though I know it’s locked. Bailee cups her hands around her glasses and peers in the window. “Lights are off.”
“Sepia! What if she never comes back?” I drop my backpack to the sidewalk and press my own forehead against the cool glass, trying to see inside.
“The shelves are still stocked,” Bailee says. “That’s a good sign.”
“Yeah, but why the closed sign in the middle of the day? Why not a sign that says, ‘I’ll be back at five’ or whenever?” My voice rises. “This is the kind of thing that happens in books, you know?”
Bailee steps away from the window. “What?”
I begin pacing back and forth, my feet crunching down on scattered leaves. “Magic portals. They always disappear at the worst possible time. Right? Didn’t that sort of thing happen in The Golden Compass and in The Unicorn Chronicles? And, spoiler alert, it happens in the Chronicles of Narnia series.”
“Stop!” Bailee holds her hands over her ears. “I haven’t read the Narnia series yet!”
“I’m just saying, what if that’s what’s happening in real life?”
“Don’t stress. This isn’t the time to freak out. You’re going to be fine.”
“Liar. I’ve seen that look on your face all day, Bailee. Don’t pretend you’re feeling Zen!”
“The look you’ve been seeing all day,” Bailee pops her hands to her hips, “is me not liking the new you.”
“Sorry. Geez.” I huff. “I’m tired of apologizing for everything.” I exhale a long breath and continue pacing back and forth.
“Listen.” Bailee lets her arms fall to her sides. “I’ve been thinking about a loophole. How about if you make another wish to reverse the curse so it circles right back to the beginning, returning to the way things were? That way you’re not technically unwishing the wish.”
I think for a moment and say, “I like that you’re thinking of a loophole, but that wish might be the same as unwishing, and if it is, it’ll have the same consequences as unwishing.” I stomp on a pinecone. “I’d really just love to wish the whole curse away.” My voice spins high and fast. “It actually scares me to wish for anything without Minerva’s help now that we’re seeing how lousy the curse-reverse is turning out.”
Bailee nods.
“Seriously. Who knows what I’ll lose if I make another curse wish—I mean, Minerva probably knows, but she’s not here.” My panic escalates. I rush back to the window and peer inside again. The store is still dark. “She may never come back!”
“We’ll figure it out.” Gray shades of worry color Bailee’s words.
I sink down to sit on the curb and pick up a leaf from the gutter. “You think I’ll ever be artistic again?”
“Of course I do.” Bailee sits beside me.
A noisy city bus with an “Out of Service” sign rumbles past.
“I have to be careful with my last two wishes,” I say. “After sunset on Friday, I won’t have any more chances to fix things.” I let out a pitiful ugh sound. “What’s more, if we do ever see Minerva again, I’m worried about how she’ll fix the curse-reverse, because if I’m being honest—I don’t want Mr. Petty in jail, but I don’t want my daddy in jail, either.”
“What about wishing him out of jail?”
I sigh. “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that, but I need to ask Minerva exactly how to word that wish.” My quadrupling wish was a disaster. “Words matter. I don’t want to say the wish wrong and have my daddy out of jail but marked down as an escapee. Or what if I make the wish and the prison doors fly open, and a bunch of real criminals run off, too?”
My brain hurts trying to figure it all out. I ball up the leaf I’m holding until broken pieces crumble to the ground. I bang my fist into my palm. “I just wish my daddy weren’t connected to Momma’s curse so he could go free.”
“What if . . .” Bailee clears her throat and gently says, “Um. What if your dad being in jail has nothing to do with the curse?”
Hot tears sting the backs of my eyes.
“Or, I don’t know.” Bailee hurries and adds, “Maybe it does.” She gently bumps my knee against hers. “Do you want to come over to my house, and we can try to figure out what to do next, and then maybe come back here in a few hours to see if Minerva returns?”
“It’ll be dark.”
“My mom could drive us,” Bailee offers.
I sniffle. “I don’t know. I sort of want to go home.”
A loud horn honks down at the end of the street, another city bus. A car squeals out in front of it. The bus stops at a red light. “Hey,” Bailee says. “Let’s take the bus. Forget my house and your apartment. Let’s go somewhere neutral. Maybe it’ll help us think with clear heads.”
“Okay. How about the Goldview Café?”
“Perfect!” Bailee agrees. We scoop up our backpacks and run across the street as the bus pulls up. “We’ll figure out the loopholes in the magic once and for all.”
Chapter 29
We climb on the bus, show the driver our student IDs since students ride free, and take the front-row seat. For the record, the city bus seats are cushier than the ones on our school bus and the windows are bigger, but it smells like diesel and there’s no good music.
“If Miss Tammy is working, we can sit in one of her booths,” I say. “I have eight dollars in my back pocket from my birthday money. We can get a couple of Snowy Sodas and maybe some fries.”
“Thanks! What did you spend the other two dollars on?”
Crickets, I think. “Oh, um, I don’t remember. Gum or something like that.”
“I’d love a piece.” Bailee is looking out the window back at Minerva’s.
“Huh?”
“Of gum.”
“Oh . . . I’m out.”
“You chewed the whole pack already?” Bailee turns to me.
“Yeah.” I crack my knuckles.
“I would have loved to have seen that bubble, you gum hog.”
I force a laugh.
Five minutes later, we’re outside the café. The trees have shed about three-quarters of their hold, and amber-gold leaves line the path to the entrance.
Bailee swings open the glass café door. It smells like coffee and buttery waffles even though it’s four o’clock in the afternoon. “Well, looky-looky,” Miss Tammy says with a big smile. “It’s Lil’ Spice and Bay Leaf.”
“Hi, Miss Tammy,” we say.
She drops her pad into her black apron pocket and puts an arm over my shoulders. “Come have a seat in one of my booths.”
“Hey!” Bailee waves at someone. “There’s Priscilla.�
�
“Seriously?” I don’t bother to hide the grouch in my tone. Godzilla is sitting just three spots over from the shiny red booth Miss Tammy leads us to. “Payne’s gray,” I grumble.
Bailee rolls her eyes.
“You’ll be fine,” Miss Tammy says. She knows all about Priscilla and me.
If Godzilla gives me any grief, I’m ready with a comeback about how her daddy can take my daddy’s cell when they set him free, and welcome to Club Infamous. Let’s see how she likes it now.
Then I notice her red-rimmed eyes and puffy cheeks, and I can’t help but feel a little sorry for her. Priscilla gives Bailee a halfhearted wave before staring down at her paper placemat.
Bailee and I scoot into our booth, and Miss Tammy hands each of us a plastic menu.
“Where’s her mom?” Bailee asks quietly.
Miss Tammy lowers her voice. “Well, Priscilla is not seated in my section. That’s one of Jenny’s tables, but I do know she came here with a friend.” Miss Tammy scoots in on my side of the booth and whispers even lower. “Jenny says the friend’s mother showed up and said the girl needed to leave ASAP. By the look on that mother’s face, I’d say she didn’t want her daughter being seen in public with Priscilla—at least not today. You heard the news, right?”
We both nod. My chest feels hollow.
Miss Tammy goes on. “I think Priscilla noticed that mother’s unfriendly face, too, poor thing, but she acted nonchalant, and when the friend offered her a ride, Priscilla said she wanted to stay a little longer and offered to pay the bill.”
“Uh-huh,” I say.
“So,” Miss Tammy says, “the friend leaves and Priscilla tries paying with her mother’s credit card, but it’s declined and so Priscilla tells Jenny that her mom is on the way to pay. She’s been sitting there ever since.” Miss Tammy pauses. “Come to think about it, I’ll bet the bank froze all the Pettys’ accounts.”
I glance at Priscilla’s face and think of how sick I felt when I heard about my own daddy.
“Order up,” someone calls from the kitchen.
Miss Tammy stands. “Lou needs me to deliver food. I’ll be right back.”
I lean forward to Bailee and whisper, “If the curse-reverse is in full force, her mother is not going to show up. The battery in their fancy car is going to die, and she’s never going to find any money. Priscilla’s going to be sitting there until closing. Unless . . .”
