“Ena,” the tall girl beside me says. “Like Tina without the stupid T.”
Mr. Padgett blinks at her as if he can’t believe anyone would dare speak. “Yes, you’re on my list, but be that as it may, we’re still short one girl.” He looks down at the card in his hand. “Mercedes?” He turns to the crowd. “Does anyone know where Mercedes is?” People in the crowd mumble and crane their necks to see if she’ll make an appearance, but she doesn’t show. My heart sinks. I can’t believe she’d miss this moment. Instead of standing next to her, holding hands, I’m beside Ena without the T and Chelsea, who’s still in her teeny tiny skirt and boots—at least she’s put on a sweater.
As Mr. Padgett goes through all the rigmarole of making us step to the left and to the right, all I can think is that either Mercedes or I need to have a part in this play because who else will keep an eye on Bella now that Ari is out? And since Mercedes didn’t even show up, she’s probably not getting cast, so that means I have to get a part. I can’t keep track of which group I’m in and whether we’re the lucky or unlucky ones until I hear a simper from the left of me and see Riena, Angelica, Jaden, Mimi, Ellie, and Ena, leaving the stage. I whip my head around to find Timber, who’s grinning straight at me. I’m in! I’m in! I’m in!
I step forward with Chelsea, Nora, and Bella, but before Mr. Padgett can speak again everyone turns toward the back of the auditorium.
“I’m here! I’m here! I’m here!” yells a crazy girl, running down the aisle.
I jump. “Mercedes!” I yell as she bounds up the steps.
“I’m here!” she says one last time as she makes it onstage and bends over to catch her breath while people in the crowd whistle, clap, and laugh.
“She’s here,” Mr. Padgett says with a tight, forced chuckle. “Thank God,” he says drily, “and you are in, Mercedes.” I reach out and grab her hand, then pull her to my side.
“Where were you?” I ask, but she just shakes her head.
“So here we go, BAPAHS,” Mr. Padgett says. “Let’s see how this whole thing is going to pan out.” He turns to us. I hold Mercedes’s hand and shut my eyes. “Will Nora, Chelsea, and Zephyr please step forward?”
I let go of Mercy’s hand, but before I step forward I look back at her. She stands, stunned, a few feet away from Bella, who’s as cool as a lake breeze. Chelsea, Nora, and I throw our arms around each other and smile. “You’re our supporting cast. You can move over there with the guys.”
I skip across the stage and jump into Timber’s arms. He hugs me tightly, then lets go and hugs Chelsea, too. We stand on either side of him and turn our attention back to center stage, where Mercedes stands, barely able to contain her energy, next to Bella, who seems to be made of marble, she’s so still.
“The supporting actress role in the spring musical goes to ...” Mr. Padgett stops and I want to kill him but not for long because then he says, “Mercedes Sanchez, which means the lead is your very own Bella D’Artagnan!”
Mercedes offers a quick hug to Bella, who barely pats her back before shoving her aside and wrapping her arm around Mr. Padgett’s waist. Bella and Mr. P both turn toward our line and call Timber to center stage. The audience applauds, strong and polite, but not wild like at the auditions.
“Well, BAPAHS,” says Mr. Padgett. He stands between Bella and Timber, holding each of their hands. “Here you have it.” Then he lifts their arms and steps back, joining their hands together overhead. “Your lead actors for ...” Everyone groans as the lights go down, the spotlights come up, and that same annoying guitar lick whines through the speakers as the neon sign flashes in the background. “Idle America!” Mr. Padgett yells.
The last thing I see is Bella and Timber illuminated by a spotlight, arms around each other, waving and smiling to the crowd.
chapter 4
AFTER WE LEAVE BAPAHS, Timber, Ari, Mercedes, Briar, Kenji, and I grab a table at Galaxy, the funky little coffee shop with mismatched furniture and funny mugs, across the street from the school. Several small groups of BAPAHS students huddle around the tables blowing on steaming mugs of coffee, latte, and hot chocolate, except for me. I’m all about the double chocolate crinkle cookies here. Chelsea and Darby have settled at the table next to ours to comfort Riena, who cries into her mug with a goofy, grinning picture of Elmo on the front.
“I don’t even like American Idol,” Ari says as he dumps cream into his coffee.
“I like when the people audition then argue with the judges about whether they can sing,” Kenji says. “It’s totally delusional.”
“I only watch it because my little sisters are into it,” Mercedes says. “I think it’s hokey and the people I like never win.”
“At least you know what it is,” I say, and pop a piece of cookie in my mouth. Briar nods.
“I like it,” Timber says, looking up from his iPhone. He hands me the phone. “Check out these clips from YouTube.” Briar and I watch a dark-haired woman with a small nose ring singing on the tiny screen.
“For real, you like it?” Mercedes asks him as if nothing weird went down in the cafeteria today.
Timber shrugs. “Sure, what’s not to like?”
“It’s all so contrived,” Ari says.
Timber reaches over and pushes some buttons on his iPhone screen, then another singer, a guy with black, spiky hair and eyeliner, comes on the screen to belt out a tune. “Sure, it’s TV, it’s got to be contrived. But that doesn’t mean the contestants don’t work hard. They’re all legit.”
“True,” Mercedes says, and smiles at Timber. “Just like us.” They slap a high five across the table, then they reach for me. I slap hands with them, but I’m confused. Weren’t these two furious with each other earlier? Erdlers amaze me in this way. One minute they’re mad at each other, the next they’re friends again.
“What about these guys?” Mercedes asks, looking to Kenji, Briar, and Ari. “We can’t do this show without them.”
Ari shrugs. “Mr. Sax already tapped me, Angelica, and Gunther to play in the band.”
“Gunther?” I ask. “As in Bella’s boyfriend?”
“The very one,” Mercedes says. I steal a glance at Timber, but he’s busy messing with his iPhone.
“Well, that’s great about the band, Ari,” I say, then I turn to Kenji and Briar. “I wish you could be in the show with us, too.”
“Our man Kenji will be there,” Mercedes says. “Don’t you know about his secret superpower?”
Briar and I both stare wide-eyed at Kenji. He freezes with his coffee halfway to his mouth, which is funny because the mug says CHEER-LEADERS DO IT WITH SPUNK in the exact bright blue as the tips of his otherwise black hair.
“Actually,” I say, stopping to think for a moment. “I know why all of us go to this school except you. Timber’s here for music. Mercedes wants to be an actress. Ari sings and plays piano. Briar got in because she dances beautifully. I’m here because I can sing and play the flute. But you ...”
“He’s a tech nerd,” Ari says.
“Not just any tech nerd,” Mercedes adds. “The best tech nerd in the school.”
“Stage production and visual design, thank you very much,” says Kenji.
“What’s that mean?” Briar asks as she licks whipped cream from the top of some chocolaty coffee concoction in a mug with a picture of a Chihuahua dressed in a red hat and a white beard.
“Kenji’s the man for set design and production,” Ari explains.
“Hey,” Mercedes says to Briar. “You could be a techie, too.” She cuts her eyes to Kenji. “If the boss here will hire you.”
Briar grabs Kenji’s arm and begs, “Please, please, please.”
“Do you even know what a techie is?” Kenji asks her.
She smiles. “Nope. But I still want to be one so all our friends are together.”
“Dude,” Timber says with a laugh. “The girl’s begging you.”
“Do you know where the wings are?” Kenji asks her.
�
�On the backs of fairies,” Briar says brightly.
“How about the pit?” he asks.
“Of despair?” says Briar with wide eyes.
“What’s baffling?” Kenji says.
“All of this,” says Briar.
“What’s the Best Boy?” Kenji asks.
“You are,” Briar says with a sweet smile, and we all crack up.
Kenji shakes his head and laughs. “You might not know anything about the stage, but I like your enthusiasm. You’re hired.”
We all cheer and Briar squeals. She claps her hands like a little kid. “Hup ba!” she shouts, which makes me laugh harder. “We’re going to have so much fun!”
“Aren’t we though?” The voice comes from behind us, but no one needs to turn around to know who it is.
Bella stands with a guy and a girl I’ve never seen before. The guy has thick, straw-colored hair down to his chin, a square jaw, and eyes as blue as a jay’s tail feather. The girl could be his twin except she has long hair twisted into a messy bun and she looks younger than he is, but still older than we are. They’re both as tall as Briar and I. Tara and Zoe, Bella’s minions, stand back a ways as if waiting for a command.
“Talking about the audition?” Bella leans over Timber’s shoulder. My body tenses as her soft, cream-colored sweater brushes Timber’s neck. “I thought it went extremely well.”
“Shocking!” Mercedes says, with mock surprise.
Bella blinks at her and then she says, “Congratulations, Mercedes. You must be very excited. You were definitely due for a bigger role this time around. I’m looking forward to working with you.” For once, there’s not a trace of sarcasm in Bella’s words, which makes Mercedes sputter. I notice that Chelsea has wrenched around in her seat to watch the performance at our table. Bella turns to face Timber. Her lips are so close they’re practically grazing his cheek. “And you,” she purrs. “I’m really looking forward to singing with you again.”
I’m about to zap her, Mother Earth help me! Turn her into a toad. Give her a case of the warts and farts. My fingers are moving, my lips forming the words, but before I get it together, Timber shrugs her off. “Are you going to introduce us?” he asks, eyeing the couple beside her.
Bella stands up straight. “Yes. This is Clay and Dawn Corrigan,” she says. “They’re my new managers.”
The guy steps forward and sticks his hand out to Timber. “Great to meet you,” he says, leaning too close with a smile so big it looks as if he could swallow Timber’s head. “I’m a big fan of your work, Timber. Today proved that you’ve still got it.”
Timber blushes a bit. “You were at the audition?”
Clay slings an arm around Bella’s shoulders and pulls her close to his body. She looks like a tiny owlet beneath his wing. “Oh yes. We’re planning a big relaunch of Bella’s career. We think it’s time for her to go in a new direction and showcase some of these amazing stage talents that have been wasted on two-bit television parts. We’re looking ahead to some off-Broadway auditions in the spring, then Broadway next fall. This is just a warm-up.”
“Speaking of which ...” The girl steps forward and hands us a stack of red flyers. “Bella will be performing tonight at our all-ages club in Red Hook.” Each of us takes a sheet. “The show is free, so bring all your friends,” she adds.
“Hope you can all make it,” Bella says with a pert little grin. “It’d be great to have the cast there supporting me.”
“Great to meet you all,” Clay says, flashing us that weird toothy grin again. “And Timber,” he says, leaning down and slipping Timber a small card, “if you’re in the market for new management, give us a shout.” Then he and Dawn follow Bella to another table, no doubt to promote her show some more.
“Just once,” Mercedes mutters as Bella walks away, “I’d like to see that girl get what she deserves.”
“Rehab wasn’t enough?” Timber asks as he tucks the card in his pocket.
My stomach rolls because (a) he doesn’t know Bella’s stint in rehab was my fault, and (b) if he starts working with those two big blond goons, they’d probably cast him in more things with Bella. I wad my flyer into a ball and toss it to the center of the table. “Haven’t you guys had enough of Bella for one day?”
“Yeah, but ...” Ari holds up his BlackBerry. “This place looks awesome.” He hands his phone around and we all look at Clay and Dawn’s Web site for the club.
“And it’s free,” Mercedes adds, pointing to her flyer.
Chelsea scoots her chair closer to us. The little diamond stud in the side of her nose catches a light and sparkles as she grabs for a flyer. “You guys going to check it out?”
“What else have we got to do?” Timber asks.
I can think of about fifty better things to do with my time than watch Bella sing, like scrub my toilet with a toothbrush or stand in a bucket of leeches. But I don’t say anything because if Timber’s planning to be where Bella is going to be, then I need to be there, too. “Briar and I are free,” I say.
“We are?” she asks.
I step on her foot under the table. “Yes,” I tell her.
“Oh yeah,” she says, yanking her foot away from mine. “We’re totally free.”
“Great,” Timber says. “Let’s all meet there at eight.”
chapter 5
WE ALL GO our separate ways when we leave Galaxy. Ari’s band has rehearsal. Mercedes has to babysit her twin sisters. And Timber promised to go Christmas tree shopping with his mom. Briar and I ride the train back to our station, but instead of going straight home, we slip into Prospect Park. Even though I love my school, by the end of the day I feel like a trapped raccoon ready to claw my way out a closed window. Despite the slushy gray snow covering the sidewalks, I need to be outside, to breathe some fresh air (well, as fresh as air can get in Brooklyn), and see the sky (even if the sun is already sinking at 4:30). I can tell Briar feels the same by the way she lifts her face and inhales the crisp, cold air.
After we’ve walked for a few minutes in silence, I say, “I can’t believe we have to listen to Bella sing tonight.”
“Could you believe her hanging all over Timber, then having the nerve to invite everyone to her gig? You should’ve zapped her,” Briar tells me.
“I wanted to,” I admit.
“Why didn’t you, then?”
“Because,” I say, “the last time I zapped her, it came back to bite me in the butt.”
She ducks under a large cedar tree and heads up a hill dusted lightly with fresh white snow. I follow, happy to be off the cement walkways erdlers stick to in the park.
“Besides,” I trudge behind Briar, “what good would it do? It’s not like Timber’s even my boyfriend.”
“First off,” Briar says, “he’ll never be your boyfriend if you don’t do something.”
“Like what?” I ask miserably.
She turns around to face me. “Like zapping Bella when she’s hanging on him!”
I roll my eyes at her.
“Or getting the part you wanted today,” she says.
“I had no control over that.”
Now she rolls her eyes at me. “You’re an elf!” She wiggles her fingers. “You can work magic! You have all the control you want.”
“No, Briar.” I peer around, making sure no one’s near. “At school, we’re ordinary kids.”
A small, mean smile lurks on Briar’s lips. “You think ordinary kids wouldn’t use every advantage they have to get what they want?”
“We can’t use magic here,” I tell her. “We could get caught.”
She scoffs and continues walking. “You wouldn’t have gotten caught.”
“You don’t know that,” I say.
“You’ve always been afraid of getting in trouble.” Briar points to a low-hanging branch over my head. She shakes her finger and makes the branch quiver, dumping snow on my head. “Then you complain about what you don’t have.”
“Hey!” I yell, dusting myself off and
frantically looking around to make sure no one saw what she just did.
“Relax,” she says as she walks away. “Nobody’s around.”
“You’ve always been a troublemaker and you don’t fight fair!” I scoop up a handful of snow off the ground and whiz it at her, but she jumps out of the way. “We have to play by erdler rules now,” I say as I think back to how sick I got after I cast my last spell on Bella—the spell that caused her to botch the audition so badly that everyone thought she was on drugs (which she was, but that’s not why her audition was so bad). I got sick because I used my magic for ill will, a big elfin no-no.
“Whatev,” Briar says.
“We have to use our magic for good,” I remind her.
“Come on,” Briar says. “A tiny little hex when she’s singing tonight.”
“That’s how it starts,” I warn.
“Just the hiccups, that’s all. It’d be funny.”
“Dark elves cast spells for mischief,” I say. “Not us.”
“There’s no such thing as dark elves. Grandma Fawna made that up to scare us. Besides, I’m not a dark elf. I’m me, and casting spells is part of who I am.”
“Not here it’s not.”
“No wonder your sister hated it here.” Briar pulls away from me. We’re in the midst of bare sycamores and snowy evergreens with only the squirrels to overhear us now.
I think back to my sister Willow sitting in the window seat on the third floor of our Brooklyn house, looking out over the red and gold autumn trees. She was miserable when my family moved to Brooklyn and she had to leave her boyfriend. “Willow was unhappy because she was away from Ash,” I say. “Not because she couldn’t use her magic.” Now she’s back in Alverland, engaged to Ash, and preparing for her wedding, which makes her happy, but the rest of us miss her terribly because elf families always stick together.
From the top of the hill, we stop and look down at the fence separating the park from the sidewalk and street. On this side of the fence is an open meadow where dogs run free in the mornings and people play soccer on the weekends. Beyond that, farther into the park, is the copse of maple trees where Timber kissed me this past fall, back when Willow still lived here and before Briar came. The memory gives me happy shivers. Or maybe it’s the cold as the sun sinks behind the pale pink clouds in the sky.
Selfish Elf Wish Page 4
