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The Sleepover

Page 12

by Jen Malone


  Paige shakes her head back and forth wildly. “That’s a lie! I never talked to her. I don’t remember answering the phone last night!”

  I give her a look. Paige could have easily answered a phone without recalling it. But then why was she still affected by the hypnosis? Even if she’d somehow forgotten to relay the message to us if she heard the trigger words, wouldn’t she have a clear memory of everything that happened? Although Paige was desperate to have a crazy night to prove something to her brother and sister, and, probably just as much for my benefit too, if I’m being honest. And okay, maybe—maybe—she would have kept the charade up so we could do some crazy stuff last night, but she would never, ever keep it going for so long. Especially not with Anna Marie missing. Paige is just as worried about her as I am.

  Jake puts his face right next to the phone. “Wait. So are you saying Madame Mesmer just left them when they were still under hypnosis? Who does that?” He’s practically growling, and I can see how he comes by his reputation when he gets like this. Still, it’s kind of sweet that he’s getting all protective of us.

  There is a ton of throat clearing on the other end of the phone. “Yes, well, sir, that is certainly very much against company guidelines, and we will be taking disciplinary actions against Brittany, er, Madame Mesmer. I’m so sorry for any inconvenience. Perhaps I can make up for it with a twenty-dollar-off coupon for the next party you book with us.”

  Paige snorts and grabs the phone. “Are you insane? Our friend is missing, and if anything happens to her, my father is going to sue you into oblivion. You better start getting moving supplies good and ready because—” She holds the phone away from her.

  “I think he hung up on me!” The phone droops in her hand as she turns to us, and I can’t be sure, but I think I see tears prickling in her eyes.

  There’s no way Paige is lying about not getting the call last night. I’ve never seen laid-back Paige so worked up over anything. Not even the time her sister tried to convince her she was adopted, with a fake birth certificate and everything.

  From the staircase we hear giggling.

  Paige’s voice is like ice. “Max?” she calls, and her tears are gone just like that. “Get your butt down here, you brat!”

  “Is it time for my kiss?” comes his reply.

  Jake shoots me a questioning glance, and I roll my eyes and shake my head. “Don’t even ask.”

  A second later Max appears with a video camera pressed to his eye.

  “May I help you ladies?” He seems less confident when he turns to Jake. “W’sup, dude?”

  “Little man,” Jake answers with a nod.

  “Did you just get back? Does this mean your mom’s home?” Paige asks, hand on hip.

  “Nope. Mom left me here with you guys. Said to wake you if I needed anything. Don’t worry. I didn’t spill the beans that you were already up. Or that you weren’t even home when she left. Couldn’t waste my chance to get the house all to myself.” He practically cackles. “So do you, like, seriously not know where my sister is? Major bummer.”

  He smirks, and I bop him on the head. “You could try acting more concerned.”

  “Think I’ll get her room now?” he asks, making a break for the stairs before I can hit him again.

  After the door at the top of the stairs slams, Jake says, “Sorry, guys. I thought we’d get something more out of that call or—”

  “Hold on a second! Does Anna Marie have a laptop I can borrow?” Veronica asks.

  “You can use my phone,” Jake offers.

  “Need a bigger screen,” Veronica replies. What is she up to?

  Paige gestures to the bar. “I think it’s over there. What are you thinking?” she asks, but Veronica just grabs the computer, plops down on her cot, and holds up a hand as she begins typing. “It’s a hunch. Give me a few minutes.”

  Paige and I have basically nothing else to do but to go back to cleaning. Jake tries to do more research on his phone, although I don’t know what else he thinks he’s gonna find. I guess he just doesn’t want to scrub mysterious green goo, and I don’t blame him one bit. At least the basement is practically sparkling twenty minutes later when Veronica whistles.

  “Eureka!” she says. “Trust me, you guys are gonna wannna see this!”

  We rush to the corner of the basement where Veronica sits on her cot, Anna Marie’s laptop on her knees.

  She’s pointing at a screen open to a YouTube channel. It’s playing the same video the marching band kids had shown us earlier. On-screen, Hedgie picks up speed and begins rolling faster as Anna Marie and I giggle uncontrollably. I get an instant lump in my throat. Oh, Anna Marie, where are you?

  “We already saw this,” Paige says.

  “I know,” Veronica answers. “But we never stopped to think about who filmed that video. Or who put it on YouTube. When I saw Max’s video camera, it got me thinking.”

  “You think Max followed us and filmed us?” Paige asks, clearly stunned.

  But I’m not. Not shocked at all, actually. It makes so much sense, I’m annoyed I didn’t think of it first.

  “Why not?” I ask. “He’s been trying to film us ever since we got here last night. Who’s to say he didn’t sneak out behind us?”

  Jake’s eyes narrow. “That’s a good point. The kid is always looking for trouble.”

  I bite down on my lip because isn’t that like the pot calling the kettle black? Although, maybe not. Once again I realize that the Jake Ribano I just spent half the morning with doesn’t match the image I had of him at all. Is it somehow possible that I (and everyone else) have been so, so wrong about him? But then, why had he let us all think he was one way when he clearly isn’t? It doesn’t make any sense.

  Veronica clicks off the video and points the screen’s arrow at the YouTube icon. “Check out the channel name.”

  “Max-a-Million,” says Paige, leaning over Veronica’s shoulder. “That little brat!”

  “That’s not all,” says Veronica. She scrolls past a whole bunch of videos whose titles start with “Minecraft Mod” until she hits on the most recent updates. The video we just watched was called “Havocking Hedgehog Unleashed,” and just a bit farther down is one titled “Madame Mesmer’s Mystical Masterpiece.”

  Veronica’s hand hovers over the track pad.

  “Click it,” I order. My voice has a weird tone to it, and I have a matching weird feeling in my belly. I both want to see what’s on that video . . . and don’t. But . . .

  “We need to see,” I say.

  “Okay,” says Veronica. “Here goes nothing.”

  Veronica expands the video to full screen, and there’s the basement as it looked pre-Silly String explosion/Mountain Dew tower/crunched M&M’s. Our sleeping bags were still rolled up tight, and Anna Marie was standing casually next to the rest of us as we listened to Madame Mesmer say:

  “You will feel very relaxed and you will lose all inhibitions. You will be steered by your subconscious, the part of you that controls your actions in the background so subtly, you aren’t aware of it. For example, when you breathe in and out, you aren’t aware of every breath. That action is controlled by your subconscious. But under hypnosis, your subconscious will drive your actions. You won’t feel the need to weigh and measure every act. You will just go with everything.”

  The on-screen Veronica can’t stop giggling, and the camera captures Anna Marie elbowing her and saying, “Shh . . .”

  It’s so good to see Anna Marie, even if it’s only on a laptop screen. She has to be okay. She just has to be.

  I watch Madame Mesmer instruct us to lie down and imagine ourselves in our happy places. It’s weird to see myself on camera. It’s even more awkward to know Jake Ribano is standing right next to me watching too. I feel vulnerable. I must look so stupid lying there, pretending to be in the art room at school. I steal a glance at him, but his face doesn’t have any expression other than maybe curiosity.

  Watch the video, Meghan. Clues, remembe
r? Look for clues.

  I turn my attention back to the screen, where Madame Mesmer is saying:

  “Next, I want you to imagine yourself flying through the air. . . . Take a rest on a puffy cloud and then swoosh back through the air again.”

  Oh God, this was before I was under hypnosis, so I remember this part. I definitely swooped my arms. Sure enough, there I am on-screen, doing some sort of weird flying-while-lying-down arm movements. I glance at Jake again, and his cheek is caved in a little, like he might be biting it to keep from laughing. At least the other girls are making flying motions too. We do look pretty ridiculous. Madame Mesmer counts to ten slowly and says:

  “You are now in a state of hypnosis. You are safe. Your entire body feels relaxed and free. You are peaceful as you sink into a deeper and deeper state of hypnosis. You are safe. You are free.”

  Ha! I’m safe, at least, but I am feeling pretty far from peaceful.

  Especially since that moment marks the final thing I remember from last night . . . and there’s still plenty of time left in this video.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Madame Mesmer’s Mystical Masterpiece

  Over my shoulder, Jake snorts. “I’m sorry, but it sounds so hokey. And look at you guys. It’s like you’re about to fall asleep. Some party entertainment!”

  Veronica and I turn and say, “Shh!” at the same time. Jake pretends to zip his lips and throw away the key while rolling his eyes. We return our attention to the screen, and dread prickles the back of my neck because Madame Mesmer is pointing to me! I definitely don’t remember this. Please, please, please don’t let me have done anything embarrassing. I glance at Jake again. Oh please.

  Madame Mesmer points to me.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Meghan.”

  “Okay, Meghan. Let’s see how you’re responding to the hypnosis. When you hear the words Magnificent Madame Mesmer, you are going to jump up and down on one foot.”

  She strolls back and forth across the basement carpet. She seems like she’s in full-on performer mode, looking out over a nonexistent audience and waiting a beat before whispering, “Magnificent Madame Mesmer.”

  Aaaaaaand there I go. I jump up, grab my left ankle, and pull it against my thigh before bouncing up and down on my right foot. The whole time I have this goofy grin on my face.

  Jake laughs. “That’s so awesome! I have to learn this skill!”

  Paige punches him on the arm. “Just what we need. You with mind-control powers.”

  I basically want to melt into the carpet. Jake Ribano is watching me jump on one foot. Seriously. Is there anything more embarrassing? Well, yes, obviously. I did land in a pile of garbage an hour ago. And at least I have two eyebrows in the video, but still. How much humiliation can one person handle in a single morning? And the worst part of it is, who knows what’s coming next? I contemplate putting my fingers over my eyes before watching the rest of the video. On-screen I begin to lose my breath from all the jumping in place. Madame Mesmer notices and says: “Oh sorry. That’s all. You can stop now.”

  Immediately, I drop my ankle and stand perfectly still. Paige, Anna Marie, and Veronica are all smiles, but it doesn’t seem like they’re laughing at me so much as just having fun in general.

  “Okay, let’s try this with the rest of you. Come to a seated position. When you hear a ringing noise, you are going to answer your shoe. On the other end of the phone will be the person you most want to speak with. Ready? Brrrrng.”

  Oh man. All four of us slip off our shoes and say hello into them. Madame Mesmer points to Paige.

  “What’s your name, sweetie?”

  “Paige.”

  “Perfect. Paige, who is on the phone with you right now?”

  “Taylor Swift!”

  In the video, Paige screams and clutches her phone to her chest. Okay, that’s actually pretty funny. I dart a look at Paige and see her laughing at her screen self.

  Jake snorts.

  “What?” Paige asks. “I have important questions for Swifty. Like, how does she get her red lipstick to stay on so perfectly? Mine always smudges.”

  Veronica pauses the video. “I’ve heard Vaseline. If you use a Q-tip and line your outer lip with Vaseline, it forms a border the lipstick won’t bleed past.”

  Wait, what? Veronica, of all people, is dispensing makeup advice?

  But Paige just nods. “That actually makes sense.”

  Veronica nods too and whispers, “Science.” She hits play on the video once again.

  “And what is Taylor saying to you?” Madame Mesmer asks.

  “OMG! She says she wants to sing with me. She wants to do a duet at her next concert!”

  “That’s wonderful, dear.”

  “And you? Whom are you speaking with?”

  I have a horrible thought the very instant Madame Mesmer turns to me. I can’t be sure about my subconscious, but I know exactly who my conscious would have chosen to get a phone call from, and that is a big problem. A very big problem, considering he’s sitting right next to me at this exact second. I blush and avoid looking at Jake. Basically, I’ve been trying to avoid looking at Jake ever since Veronica pushed play on this train wreck, but now I’m doing it with two bright red spots on my cheeks. This could be catastrophic.

  Please say Taylor, too. Please say Taylor, too.

  But I can tell by the dreamy look at my face in the video that I am not chatting with Tay Tay.

  “Jaaaaaa-ke.”

  Oh God. Oh God, oh God, oh God. My voice was even all singsongy. This is not happening. I can’t look, but I hear Jake cough and shuffle his feet.

  This. Is. Not. Happening.

  “How lovely,” Madame Mesmer says.

  Madame Mesmer moves on to Anna Marie. I let out my breath, but I still refuse to bring my eyes anywhere near the same zip code as Jake’s. Maybe ever again. He won’t think that’s weird at all, right?

  “Anna Marie, who are you speaking with?”

  The sound of Anna Marie answering, “My dad,” makes me push aside my own (horrible, horrible) woes because there is my friend. Happy and healthy and right in front of us. She looks so ordinary, like she will never be anywhere but right there next to us. Not gone who knows where only a few short hours later.

  Except, she’s not exactly happy on-screen. In fact, she has a tear running down her cheek. I lean in closer to the laptop. Why is she crying? Madame Mesmer asks her the same thing.

  “Things kind of stink with me and my dad right now,” Anna Marie answers.

  Madame Messmer swallows and then says, “Okay, listen to me, Anna Marie. When I next snap my fingers, you are going to feel all your guilt and anger evaporate. You will be happy again and you will be speaking to . . . to . . .”

  She pauses and looks around the room, clearly grasping for a name. Her eyes settle on the poster of Great Britain above the bar in the corner.

  “You will be speaking to . . . Harry Potter!”

  Madame Mesmer snaps.

  Immediately Anna Marie’s expression lightens, and she starts murmuring intently into the phone. Something about Horcruxes.

  Veronica is up next, and Madame Mesmer moves in front of her and asks who she is talking to. Oh, this should be good. Who would Veronica most like to talk to? I can’t begin to guess.

  Veronica puts her finger up and continues chatting into her bear paw slipper. After a second she says, “Okay. Hold on.”

  “Whom are you talking to?” Madame Mesmer repeats.

  Veronica’s face lights up. “Oh, I’m speaking to the squirrel who lives in the tree outside my house. This is amazing.”

  Madame Mesmer’s eyebrows shoot to the sky.

  Jake’s do too. Probably. I still refuse to look at him, but I can hear it in his voice when he asks, “In the realm of all the possible phone calls to get from anyone in the entire world, you chose to hear from the squirrel outside your window?”

  Veronica shrugs. “Well, yeah. Squiggles is the best.�
��

  Back on-screen a snippet of “Girls Just Want to Have Fun” rings out, and Madame Mesmer dives for her bag. She fishes out a cell phone, stealing a glance back at us chatting away on our own “phones” before answering.

  “What? Really? But I’d have to leave now. Yes, but I’m in the middle of— No, of course I want to meet him. You’ve been trying to set us up for months. Oh, I forgot. When does he go back? Okay. Okay. So it’s now or never, I get it. I don’t know how, but let me see if I can figure something out here. I’ll call you back when I’m on my way. Order a drink for me. I’m coming!”

  Madame Mesmer stuffs her cell back into her purse and glances around the room, clearly calculating something in her head. This is why she ditched us while we were still hypnotized? For a blind date? Seriously?

  “Okay, girls. Say good-bye to the person, or, erm, animal, on the other end of the phone and hang up, please. Now, we have about twenty minutes left in this party. Except I’m going to give you a bonus so we can do something really special. I have to get going, but that doesn’t mean this part of the show has to end at all. Here’s how it’s going to work: I want you girls to have fun like you’ve never had fun before, until you can’t stay awake anymore! When I say party down, you girls are going to do all the best sleepover activities you can think of. You are going to have the best time ever. And in a little while, I’m going to call you. When you hear my voice on the phone, I’m going to say, um . . . ‘New York.’ Those are your trigger words, and when you hear them, you will snap out of your hypnosis instantly. Does that sound like a good plan?”

  We all nod.

  “Whose phone would you like me to call?”

  Paige raises her hand and recites her number at Madame Mesmer’s prompting.

  “Got it. Okay, are we ready for some fun, girls?”

  Again, four nods, and Madame Mesmer gathers up her belongings and collects the scarves she’d draped over the lampshades.

 

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