by Diana Lopez
“That’s so cute,” Iliana said. “You think Alejandro and I could dress up as a fairy-tale couple, too? We could be Snow White and Prince Charming. That is, if he really likes me. I can’t tell. What do you guys think?”
No one had a chance to answer because GumWad turned to me and said, “I don’t mind being Hansel if you want to be Gretel. We can give gum to the little kids.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a handful of gumballs. I saw lint on one and wanted to gag.
“I don’t believe in trick-or-treating anymore,” I said. “No one in my neighborhood gives out candy. I live next to the most selfish people on the planet.”
“Hello!” Shawntae interrupted. “Can we get back to the real subject? We’re supposed to be talking about my dream.”
“What else is there to say?” I asked. “You had some silly cartoon dream that, in my opinion, has nothing to do with what happened this weekend.”
“You can’t take dreams so literally, Erica. They’re not facts; they’re symbols. Just think about it. The candy symbolizes the money you were trying to earn. The dark, scary forest symbolizes the rude people you met.”
Patty was tearing her napkin into smaller and smaller pieces. “I liked it better when Erica and GumWad were going to dress up as Hansel and Gretel,” she admitted. “It’s such a cool story, especially the part when the witch throws the kids in a giant pot of boiling water.”
“I don’t know about symbols,” Iliana said, “but I do see similarities between Shawntae’s dream and what really happened.”
“Thank you,” Shawntae said.
“That’s the problem with dreams,” I explained. “People can interpret them however they want. They aren’t predictions about anything. And even if they were, what’s the point if they’re always so symbolic, if you have to decode them all the time, and if they don’t make sense until it’s too late? For once and for all: No… more… predictions!”
“I’m going to make a believer out of you,” Shawntae decided.
“It’ll never happen.”
She ignored me. “I’m going to tell you my dreams,” she went on. “I’m going to tell you as soon as they occur. Then we can see what happens next. That way, we can test my abilities.”
“That’s a great idea,” GumWad said. “Can you call when you have a dream about me? I’d love to get a preview of my life, especially if it involves something like me getting hit by lightning or chased by a tornado.”
“Sure thing,” Shawntae said, and she and GumWad shook on it.
“And can you let me know which guys like me in a romantic way and which ones only as a friend?” Iliana added.
“If I dream about it, I’ll let you know.”
“Are you serious?” I asked Shawntae. “You’re going to call me every morning and report your dreams?”
“Well, not every morning, since I don’t remember my dreams sometimes, and not every dream, since you’re not the only person in my subconscious mind, but if I do dream about you, I’m going to call. You can count on it.”
“She doesn’t mind calling me every morning,” Patty said, her napkin pieces as small as confetti now.
Shawntae lightly punched her. “That’s because you need a wake-up call or both of us will be late for school.” They often carpooled together, and at least once a week, they had to run to class so they wouldn’t be late.
Iliana jumped in with her opinion. “I think you should try it, Erica. What can it hurt? We’ll finally know whether or not Shawntae’s a psychic.”
I took a minute to consider the plan. Maybe Iliana was right. Maybe this was a good idea. Shawntae wanted to teach me a lesson, but she was the one who had a lesson to learn. When her predictions did not come true, I’d get to say “I told you so.” And then I’d be free of Shawntae’s dreams forever because she could never predict the future, just like I could never make a perfect score in math.
“It’s a deal,” I decided. I held out my hand, and Shawntae shook it, the whole time with one of her big, flashy smiles.
2 SPARE INVITATIONS
Dad took Thursday off so he could go with Mom to her radiation therapy appointment. He said he’d pick me and Carmen up after school, but he was running late because he had to get Jimmy from Grandma’s house first. Carmen waited in the sixth grade area, while I waited in the eighth. Nobody had assigned waiting spots for different grades, and there weren’t any signs. But somehow everyone knew that the sixth graders were supposed to wait on the hot cement around the flagpole, while the eighth graders waited beneath the shady trees. The seventh graders had their own spot, too. Luckily, Shawntae and Patty’s ride hadn’t arrived yet, so I waited with them. We barely had time to discuss the afternoon when Derek showed up.
“Hi,” he said to me. “I wanted to talk to you after class, but you were still working on the test.”
“Yeah,” I admitted. “Math isn’t my best subject. And the test really takes a long time when you have to show all your work.”
“Tell me about it. I barely had time to finish.”
“At least you worked through all the problems. I still had five to go.”
Patty stomped on a line of ants crawling along the curb. “That means you failed it,” she said.
My shoulders drooped. I felt as crushed as the ants beneath her shoe.
“I’m sure you passed,” Derek said. “You probably got all the other questions right since you were taking your time.”
“Yeah, probably,” I said, though I wasn’t convinced.
“So why did you want to talk to Erica?” Shawntae asked, all nosy.
Derek reached into his backpack, took out a stack of postcards, and handed me one. It was red with black letters that said, “Let’s party!” In the middle was a black-and-white photo of Derek and on the back were the details.
“I’m having a birthday bash,” he explained. “My cousin’s a DJ, so there’s going to be music, dancing, and food.” He handed postcards to Patty and Shawntae, too. “You should all come. Your presence is the only present I need. Get it?”
“You are so corny!” Shawntae said, slapping his arm with the postcard.
“Maybe so, but I made you smile, right?”
Patty said, “She smiles for everything. She’d smile at a funeral.” She glanced down at the dead ants and smiled at their funeral, looking away only when Shawntae elbowed her.
“Thanks for the invitation,” I said to Derek. “It sounds like fun.”
“Good,” Derek said. “Then I’ll see you there. And you girls, too,” he added, pointing to Patty and Shawntae before walking off to join a group at the basketball court.
“Can you believe that?” Shawntae said to me. “He is totally into you.”
I shook my head. “No, he isn’t.”
“Oh, yes, he is.” She mimicked Derek’s voice. “Here’s an invitation for you, Erica. I was waiting for you after class, but since you took so long with the test, I had to hunt you down after school, so I could personally hand you this invitation because the only present I need is your presence. Oh, and by the way, I guess I can spare two invitations for your friends.”
“It wasn’t like that,” I said, secretly believing it was. “He meant to invite all of us from the beginning.”
“No,” Patty said, “you were the main objective. We were total afterthoughts.”
“Are you serious?”
They nodded.
My fingers and toes got all wiggly. Who knew fingers and toes could feel excitement? Finally! I was making “close encounter” progress with a guy from my Boyfriend Wish List. I fumbled in my backpack for my phone and texted Iliana. “OMG. On solid level 3 w/Derek. Details later.” After a few seconds, she replied with the happy face icon.
Just then, I spotted Dad’s car.
“See y’all tomorrow,” I said to my friends.
“Your presence is the only present we need,” they teased as my dad pulled up.
I jumped in the backseat with Jimmy because Carmen had gr
abbed the front since Dad reached the flagpole first. As soon as Jimmy saw the postcard in my hand, he wanted it. “Gimme paper. Gimme paper.”
“No, Jimmy. It’s important.”
“What is it?” Dad asked.
“An invitation to a party.”
“Let me see,” Carmen said.
“No, it’s not for you. It’s for me.”
Just then, Jimmy grabbed the postcard, and when I tried to snatch it back, it tore right across the picture of Derek’s cute face.
“Ha-ha,” Carmen said. “That’s what you get for being selfish.”
“Girls,” Dad said with a tone that meant “you better behave.”
We didn’t want to upset him, so we stayed quiet and listened to All Things Considered, this time with a story about elephants and how they communicate across long distances using something called infrasonic rumbles.
“Isn’t that amazing?” Dad said. “I wonder what they’re saying to each other.”
Secretly, I wondered, too. I’m sure the elephants gave boring announcements like “cool watering hole one mile to the east” or “three zebras grazing on our turf,” but maybe they sent love letters, too. Maybe they had parties and used their infrasonic rumbles to invite their friends. Maybe they told stories about warrior elephants that trampled dangerous beasts of the night or brainy elephants that devised plans to outsmart poachers. If only I could be an elephant interpreter. Wouldn’t that be a cool job?
“I wish humans could talk across the miles, too,” I said.
“We can.” Carmen held up her cell phone and pointed to it. “It’s called using a phone.” She exaggerated each word as if talking to an infant or a monkey. I hated the way she always made me feel like a dummy.
“Gimme phone. Gimme phone,” Jimmy cried, reaching for Carmen’s.
She pretended to hand it over, then snatched it away at the last minute. Poor Jimmy bawled.
“Look what you started,” I complained. “He was fine a few minutes ago.”
He cried even louder. “I wanna phone! I wanna phone!”
“Here,” I said, taking mine out. I let him touch a few buttons, and he immediately settled down. Then I showed him pictures of my friends.
“Who that?” he asked, pointing at each one. When we got to a picture of GumWad sticking out a purple tongue, Jimmy laughed.
“He looks funny, right?” I said.
Jimmy laughed even louder. Then he got bored. He was always begging for things and getting bored two minutes later. I handed him his toy puppy, the one Mom bought in the valley. We kept it in the car so Jimmy could have something to play with. Jimmy and I growled like angry dogs and barked like happy ones. He was a pest most of the time, but sometimes I really liked playing with him.
When Jimmy settled down, I held up the torn postcard and said, “Can I go to the party? Lots of my friends will be there.”
“Including boys?” Dad asked.
“Yes,” I said, blushing because I hated discussing boys with him.
“Chia’s totally boy crazy,” Carmen squealed. “That’s why she can’t concentrate in school. If you let her go, you’ll be feeding her boy-mania.”
“You’re just jealous,” I said, “because the boys at school don’t know you exist.”
“They do.”
“Oh, really? Then why do you sit by yourself during lunch? Why do you walk by yourself to class?”
“Is this true?” Dad asked Carmen. “Are you always by yourself at school?”
“Yes, but not because I’m pathetic or something. I like being by myself. The kids at school are total morons. They don’t even care about calculating their carbon footprint.”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s because they wear regular tennis shoes, not carbons.”
“Your carbon footprint has nothing to do with shoes,” Carmen said. “It’s about creating carbon dioxide and destroying the environment, but how would you know? You’re a moron just like the boys at school.”
“Por favor,” Dad said. I was about to complain because she did it again, made me feel like a dummy, but Dad added, “Not another word from either of you.”
We reached the stop sign a few blocks from our street. Dad braked and let the car idle. “Let me see that invitation.” I gave it to him, and he held the two parts together. “It says, ‘Feel free to bring guests.’ ”
I nodded. “That’s why I want Iliana to come. You see? It’s not like I’m going to be alone with boys. A lot of girls are going to be there, too.”
Dad returned the invitation and edged the car forward. “That’s right,” he said. “A lot of girls, including your sister.”
“Really?” Carmen nearly hopped out of her seat. She hadn’t been this excited since the Discovery Channel promised to air a new documentary about black holes.
“I thought we were morons,” I told her.
“I was just kidding,” Carmen said. “Besides, I’m sure I was going to be invited anyway.”
Just then, Jimmy threw his toy puppy on the floor. “Gimme dog. Gimme dog,” he said.
“She can’t go,” I insisted as I handed Jimmy the toy, which he immediately threw down again.
“Gimme! Gimme!” he cried.
My mood ring was brown, which meant I felt feisty, troubled, and mad.
“No!” I snapped, and I meant it. No to Jimmy and no to Carmen.
Dad pulled into our driveway and turned off the car. While we unbuckled our seat belts, he said, “Carmen, help Jimmy out. Take him inside. I need to talk to Chia for a minute.”
“You are in so much trouble,” she gleefully whispered as she lifted Jimmy from his seat.
As soon as they entered the house, Dad said, “Listen, I want you to take Carmen to the party. It’s not because I don’t trust you, but because she never gets invited places. I don’t like how she’s by herself all the time.”
“She’s by herself because she’s a brat.”
“She’s not a brat. She’s”—he thought for a minute—“different. That’s all. And sometimes people who are different have trouble fitting in.”
“She doesn’t want to fit in. You heard her. She thinks everyone is a moron.”
Dad sighed. “Just take her to the party. Do it for me, okay? Do it for Mom.”
I could not believe he would manipulate me this way, but I knew what would happen if I refused—an ultimatum: either take Carmen or don’t go at all.
“Fine,” I said, exiting the car and stomping toward the house.
20 MESSAGES
Saturday began with a phone call from Shawntae. At seven o’clock in the morning!
“Not another dream!” I complained. So far, she had called to tell me about dreams with sports cars, hot air balloons, and talking lockers. I was a character in each, but honestly, the only thing remotely connected to my real life was my school locker, and it had never uttered a word. Why couldn’t Shawntae dream about me with a guy from my Boyfriend Wish List or about me getting a good grade in math or about my mom feeling better?
“In this one,” she began, “you’re roller-skating on a beach.”
“You mean on a sidewalk or pier?”
“No, on the sand.”
I wanted to pull out my hair. “Are you serious? Have you tried roller-skating on sand? It’s next to impossible.”
“But that’s the point,” Shawntae insisted. “In the dream, it wasn’t impossible. Not only were you skating, but you were gliding. People were pointing at you and talking about how easy you made it seem. You should really buy a new pair of skates.”
“But we don’t have a beach in San Antonio,” I reminded her.
“I had another dream, too.”
I sighed. “And what was this one about?”
“You were with Iliana’s brothers.”
“Really?” Now this sounded like a dream I could relate to. “What were we doing?”
“Talking.”
“That’s it?” I couldn’t help being disappointed. I was hoping for a clos
e encounter of the fourth kind.
“Yes,” Shawntae said. “And their words were very clear. They said, ‘You can be two places at once if you ask your twin for help.’ ”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“My subconscious is showing you how to cover more ground when you look for sponsors.”
“But I don’t have a twin,” I said, all frustrated. Shawntae didn’t seem to notice.
“Buy those skates,” she commanded, “and ask your parents if you have a secret twin somewhere.”
I sighed. So far, Shawntae wasn’t scoring well on this test of her psychic abilities. The only thing she truly accomplished was waking me up with her phone calls.
“I wish I did have skates,” I admitted. “I have to walk around the neighborhood again for my promesa.”
“That’s great. I’ll go with you.”
At first this seemed like a good idea, but last week, Iliana had joined me. I liked her company, but all she did was talk about boys. Shawntae didn’t discuss boys so much, but she loved to give me advice and share her strategies for becoming the first black woman mayor of San Antonio. Plus, she’d probably make up more dreams. No, this was something I had to do by myself.
“That’s okay,” I said. “I better go alone.”
“Are you sure? I have terrific persuasive skills. I’m on the debate team, remember? That means I know how to talk people into things.”
“I know. You are great. But this is something I have to do on my own.”
“Suit yourself,” she said. And with that, she hung up.
After breakfast, I headed out, deciding to start on the other side of the neighborhood. The weather had cooled, so lots of people were out mowing grass and washing cars.
“Hello, sir!” I called to a man edging his lawn. He didn’t hear me. “Hello!” I shouted.
He looked up and turned off the edger when he saw me. “Can I help you with something?”
As I told him about needing sponsors, a woman came from the side of the house. She had gardening gloves on and her clothes were full of dirt and leaves. “What do we have here?” she asked.
