by Ahmet Zappa
Ms. Daniels resumed her math lesson. She took a red writing utensil and copied numbers and symbols on the smooth white surface that ran across the front wall of the classroom. “Now, who wants to take a stab at this equation?” she asked.
Sage sat up with interest. Would a student actually stab it? Now that would be an interesting observation! But to her disappointment, no one did.
“Come on, guys,” said Ms. Daniels. “Someone come up here and show Sage here how good we are at long division.”
No volunteers.
“Two hundred and ninety-one thousand, six hundred and six divided by three hundred and seventy-one,” Ms. Daniels said. “Remember: Dirty Monkeys Smell Completely Bad. You must Divide, Multiply, Subtract, Compare, and Bring Dow—”
“Seven hundred and eighty-six,” Sage said automatically. The students stared at her with looks of awe on their faces. Sage felt a flush of pleasure at being the center of attention, this time in a good way. “Sage, we must first raise our—” Ms. Daniels’s voice broke off. She looked down at her book. “That’s right,” she said slowly. She wrinkled her brow. “How is that possible? Are you using a calculator?”
“A what-ulator?” asked Sage. The class giggled in unison.
Ms. Daniels narrowed her eyes, then looked down at her book again. “Fifty thousand, one hundred ninety-three divided by ninety-nine?” she said.
“Five hundred and seven,” said Sage, though she was getting the feeling that she should just be keeping her mouth shut. She started to feel uncomfortable as she realized that everyone was staring at her even harder. Sage sank lower in her seat. All that attention couldn’t be good. She was supposed to blend in, after all.
Ms. Daniels looked puzzled. “Ninety-two thousand, five hundred and forty-five divided by four hundred and fifteen?”
And even though every fiber of her being wanted to shout out the right answer, Sage forced herself to say, “Two hundred and twenty-two?”
Ms. Daniels nodded, clearly satisfied. “No, it’s two hundred and twenty-three! You must have had the same math book in your last school. That’s got to be it.”
“That’s right,” said Sage.
Mission 1, Wishworld Observation #5: If you want to remain undercover at school, keep your star talents to yourself. No showing off, tempting though it may be!
Boy, did Sage feel sorry for Wishling students. Their lunchroom was nothing at all like the Celestial Café. It was noisy and smelled funny, kind of like stinkberries. There were no tablecloths, no plush chairs, no deep carpeting to sink your feet into. No climate control. There wasn’t a cloth napkin to be seen.
Where was a Bot-Bot waiter to take your order when you needed one? It was positively primitive: you had to grab a plastic tray, point to the food you wanted, and wait while a lady with a net over her hair scooped it up and handed it to you. She would have to tell Professor Elara Ursa all about it when she returned to Starland.
And the food—well, Sage’s stomach churned when she saw it. Nevertheless, she pointed to something called mac and cheese and received a dense orange square on a plate. Everyone else was grabbing containers from a large cool box, so Sage grabbed one, too.
Sage stood in the middle of the room, wondering where to begin her search for her Wisher, when someone called out, “Hey, new girl! Over here!”
Sage headed over to the wildly waving Wishling and found herself at a lunch table with a bunch of girls from her class: the redhead, the one with the blond pigtails, and the one with jet-black hair were among them. They all introduced themselves—Maria, Hailey, Jenna, Ella, and Madison. Sage nodded and smiled at them. Now she was getting somewhere.
“You’re really good at math,” said the freckled redhead, whose name was Jenna. “You made it look like a piece of cake!”
“It looked like…cake?” Sage asked, confused. “What kind?”
The Wishling laughed, thinking Sage was making a joke.
“Yeah, you really did make it look easy,” said Maria, who had shoulder-length dark hair and pretty brown eyes.
Sage nodded and smiled. Mission 1, Wishworld Observation #6: Add “piece of cake” to the Wishling dictionary. It means “easy.”
“I like your outfit,” said Hailey, the blonde with the pigtails. “Very colorful!”
“Thanks,” said Sage. She picked up a box labeled CHOCOLATE MILK from her tray. “Ah, chocolate,” she said, remembering her first Wishers 101 class. “It must be Valentine’s Day!” She felt pleased to have made the connection. She was a little worried because Professor Ursa warned it would taste terrible.
The girls stared for a moment, then burst into laughter. “You are so funny!” cried Maria.
Sage shrugged. She turned the box upside down, studying it. She had no idea how to open it. They hadn’t gotten to beverages in her Wishers 101 class.
The Wishlings started laughing again. “You can divide huge numbers in your head, but now you’re acting like you’re from another planet!” said Madison, a thin Wishling with super-short light brown hair.
Sage gulped. Oh, starf! Did Madison really know that she wasn’t from Wishworld? What was she going to do? The Wishlings laughed and laughed. “Do you ever stop joking?” Madison asked. Sage suddenly realized that they were kidding. She sighed with relief.
Maria reached over and grabbed Sage’s container, tore a short plastic tube off the back of it, and stabbed it into the box. “Here you go,” she said, handing it back to Sage.
Still confused, Sage took it, then hesitantly put the tube into her mouth and drank. Her eyes widened. The drink was cold, sweet, rich, and improbably delicious. Professor Elara Ursa couldn’t have been more wrong about chocolate. It was the best thing she’d ever tasted.
Madison laughed. “You act like you’ve never had chocolate milk before!” she said.
Sage grinned. Little did she know!
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” said Jenna. The rest of the girls nodded. They suddenly started whispering among themselves.
“So listen, new girl,” said Jenna. “We think you’re funny and we’ve decided to invite you to sit at our lunch table. Permanently.”
Sage stole a glance at her Wish Pendant. It was still only faintly glowing. So none of these girls was her Wisher. But it meant she must be nearby.
“Thanks,” she said.
“Here are some things you need to know to survive in Ms. Daniels’s class. Joey Peterson picks his nose. So don’t ever touch his hands if you can help it. Ms. Daniels gives surprise spelling quizzes every Friday, so be prepared.”
“Molly Chow brings in the best birthday treats, so be nice to her and you’ll always get seconds. And whatever you do, stay away from Genevieve,” offered Hailey.
“Who’s Genevieve?” Sage asked.
“Just the meanest girl in class,” said Maria.
“The meanest girl in school,” Ella said, correcting her. “She’s over there in line in the pink dress.”
“She’s also the most spoiled girl in school,” added Maria. “She’s so mean I heard that she made this girl cry because she didn’t like her outfit. You don’t get much meaner than that!”
“That’s pretty mean,” agreed Sage.
“Well, you’re a lot of fun,” said Jenna. “Friendly.” She made a face. “Not like that other new girl,” she added.
“Who?” Sage asked.
“Jane,” Hailey answered. “She’s just so weird. She’s like the complete opposite of you. It’s like she thinks that we should be going out of our way to get to know her.”
“She ignores us at school for an entire month but then expects us all to come to her birthday party. That takes a lot of nerve,” added Jenna.
Sage sat up straight. Interesting. “So none of you are going to her party?” she asked.
“No way,” said Ella. “Like, try to make friends with me first. I’m not just going to show up at your party when I don’t know you.”
“I bet she wishes you would all go to her par
ty,” Sage mused aloud.
“Well, she’s going to keep wishing,” said Hailey. Sage stood up, her heart racing with excitement. Could she have figured it out so quickly?
“The bell hasn’t rung yet,” said Maria. “Where are you going?”
“I’m going to say hello to Jane,” she said. “Where is she?”
“Over there, by herself. As usual,” said Ella, pointing to a table across the room. “Tell her we say hello!”
That sent the Wishlings into further peals of laughter.
Sage took that moment to head across the room. Jenna stopped laughing. “Wait,” she said. “She’s serious.”
Sage stood at the head of the table where a female Wishling with long brown hair pulled back into a ponytail sat hunched over a book, eating a sandwich, her brow furrowed in concentration.
Sage studied her. Was she deeply engrossed in what she was reading or deeply engrossed in looking busy?
“Hey,” Sage said. “Is this seat taken?”
Jane looked up, frowning at Sage’s lame joke. “You’re kidding, right? Not funny.”
“Sorry,” said Sage, leaning a hand on the table. “So, we’re in the same class, huh? Any tips for the even newer girl?” She put her elbows on the table and rested her chin in her hands.
“You seem to be doing just fine,” said Jane coldly. “Look at you, first day at school and you already have more friends than I do after a month.”
Because I’m friendly, Sage thought. But she kept it to herself. She took a deep breath and plunged right in. “So, I hear you’re having a birthday party.”
Jane closed her book with a bang. “It’s my mother’s fault!” she exclaimed. “I didn’t even want to have one. But she convinced me to invite almost every girl in the class. And then no one RSVP’d. Not a single person. Talk about humiliating! Now I’m the class loser and things are worse than ever.”
“Well, I’d like to come,” said Sage gently. “I love parties.”
There was a momentary flash of excitement in Jane’s eyes. But then her eyes narrowed. She turned away.
“Leave me alone,” she said.
Sage blinked. “What did you say?”
“I said leave me alone,” Jane repeated. She scowled. “I bet those girls just sent you over here to make fun of me, didn’t they?”
“They didn’t, I swear!” said Sage. She put up her hands and took a step backward while stealing a glance at her Wish Pendant. It was brightly lit. Yes!
“Oops,” she said as she bumped into a passing student. “Pardon me.”
“Ouch,” said the student. “My foot!”
Sage turned around to see who it was. Oh, great. Genevieve.
“Sorry,” said Sage.
“Whatever,” said Genevieve with a shrug. She looked Sage up and down. “Hey, nice outfit.”
Sage narrowed her eyes. She knew what Genevieve was up to. She was being sarcastic! Sage gave the girl a mean look. Genevieve stared back, about to say something. Then she walked away.
Mission 1, Wishworld Observation #7: There are mean kids everywhere—no matter what star you are on.
She turned back to her Wisher. “So would you say that you wish that people would come to your party?” she asked—quite cleverly, she thought.
“Didn’t we cover that already?” Jane asked.
Sage pressed on. “Would you say that it is your heart’s desire?”
Jane looked at Sage to see if she was serious. “Yeah, I guess it is,” she admitted.
“Well, I really want to come to your party,” Sage told Jane. “In fact, I want to help you throw the best party ever. A party so great that every Wish—I mean, girl in the class is going to beg to come.”
“Everyone except for Genevieve,” said Jane. “She’s not invited.” The scowl disappeared from her face and was replaced by a hopeful expression. “Do you really think people will come to my party?” she said softly.
“I really do,” said Sage, nodding.
Now all I have to do is help Jane convince the rest of the female Wishlings in the class to come, she thought. This is going to be a piece of pie.
Sage felt very pleased with herself, already using a Wishling expression on her first day. Hey, I’m a natural! she thought. Everything was falling into place perfectly. The only thing left was to figure out how she was going to help make the wish come true. But the hard part was done. Professor Lucretia Delphinus would be proud.
“There is no way I am going to Jane’s birthday party,” Jenna said, slamming her locker door and jamming the lock closed. She spun around, a scowl on her pretty face. “She’s just not nice!”
Sage shook her head. “Listen, Jane actually is really nice. I think she just seems strange because she’s too shy to talk to you guys.”
Jenna shrugged. “Fine, I believe you,” she said. Sage felt excited for a starsec. “But I still don’t want to go to her party,” she concluded.
Sage was flummoxed. Then she had an idea. She held her Wish Pendant in her hand. Maybe her special talent was young Wishling mind control. She looked deeply into Jenna’s eyes. “You are going to Jane’s party,” she said. “You will tell all your friends to come, too.”
Jenna stared back at Sage for a moment. “Whatever you say, Sage.”
Sage grinned.
Jenna snorted with laughter. “You didn’t think I was serious, did you? As if! Oh, Sage, you’re so funny!”
So young Wishling mind control is not my special talent, thought Sage. I wonder what it could be?
Sage’s heart sank. Jenna was the ringleader. If she didn’t go, the rest of her friends wouldn’t, either. “Is there something that would change your mind?” she asked pleadingly. “Anything you can think of?”
“No,” said Jenna. But she had a funny look on her face. Sage had a feeling there was something that would convince Jenna. On a whim, she held her Wish Pendant and concentrated on the girl’s thoughts to see if she could read them. She could! She had discovered her talent! Starmendous!
Jenna’s thoughts flooded into Sage’s mind: Got to finish that math homework before volleyball practice….Where’s my notebook?…Wonder if Mom is making fried chicken tonight….Sage has cool hair….I would go to that party if they did something cool. So sick of those boring baby parties with piñatas and musical chairs….Where is that notebook?
Wow! It worked! Sage felt exhausted and she glanced down at her Wish Pendant to see that the energy level had been seriously depleted. And she had no idea what Jenna meant—musical furniture? A pin-whatta? But it didn’t matter. She knew how to make Jane’s wish come true now.
Sage marched down the hallway, where she found Jane kneeling in front of her locker, shoving books into her backpack.
“Hey,” Jane said to Sage. “I was looking for you. Want to come over and help me plan my party?”
“Great idea!” said Sage.
Jane zipped her bag and stood up. “I saw you talking to Jenna,” she said eagerly. “Did she say she’ll come?”
“I’m working on it,” replied Sage.
They left the school together and walked down the sidewalk side by side. Fallen leaves crunched pleasantly under their feet. “Nice neighborhood,” said Sage. The lawns were well manicured and the houses were large and imposing.
“This is the fancy part of town,” Jane explained. “That’s where Genevieve lives.” She pointed to a particularly large home with a curved driveway.
“What’s that little house for?” asked Sage, pointing. It had four doors but no windows.
Jane giggled. “Oh, Sage, you’re so silly. You know that’s the garage!”
“Uh, right,” said Sage. “So, Genevieve seems pretty mean.”
“That’s what everyone says,” replied Jane. “So I guess it must be true, right?” She shrugged. “I don’t want to take any chances, so I just avoid her.”
She glanced at Sage. “I love your lavender streak,” she said. “I wish my mom would let me dye my hair.”
Sage touched her hair. She hadn’t realized she had a streak of lavender. If Jane liked the streak, imagine if she could see what Sage’s real hair looked like.
“So, where are you from?” Jane asked Sage.
Sage had a moment of panic. “Oh, um…from far away,” she answered.
Jane nodded. “Me too!” she said. “We moved all the way from Connecticut.”
Sage hid a smile. “It’s hard to be the new girl,” she said.
“Tell me about it,” said Jane.
Sage kicked a pebble as the two girls walked together in silence.
“Hey,” Sage said suddenly. “Do you have any chocolate milk at your house?”
Jane’s mom, Mrs. Newman, was positively beaming when her daughter arrived home with a friend.
“It is so lovely to meet you, Sage!” she gushed. “I’m so happy to meet one of Jane’s new friends!” She turned to her daughter. “See? I told you it was only a matter of time!”
“Moooom,” groaned Jane, looking completely humiliated. Sage understood how Jane felt. Wishworld moms were remarkably similar to Starland moms—totally concerned about their kids while being utterly oblivious to how self-conscious their kids could be. Mrs. Newman hovered over Jane, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her daughter’s ear. Jane swatted at her mother’s hand good-naturedly. A wave of homesickness washed over Sage and she suddenly missed her family.
“So, let’s get down to business,” Sage said, more sharply than she intended.
Jane raised her eyebrows. “Okay,” she said. “Where do we start?”
“We need to plan a”—Sage used a Wishworld expression she had overheard in the cafeteria line—“totally awesome party.”
Jane nodded. “Okay. How about—”
“I have an idea!” interrupted Jane’s mother, an excited grin on her face. “How about an old-fashioned party, like from when I was a girl? You know, pin the tail on the donkey, musical chairs, bobbing for apples…”
