Bras & Broomsticks

by Sarah Mlynowski

  Ah. The fashion show. I’m a celebrity returning to her hometown. I give the group my most benevolent smile. “Hard work,” I say.

  “What’s London Zeal like?” Annie asks, leaning toward me, squishing her supersized breasts together and giving the boys at the next table an eyeful.

  “She’s a riot,” I say with a wave of my hand.

  “Is it true you’re going to Spring Fling with Raf?” Sherry asks.

  “Yup,” I say, then notice the confusion on Tammy’s face. “I think so. I had another event that night, but it’s off now.”

  Tammy’s eyes bulge. “What? The wedding is off?”

  I give her my best this-is-hard-for-me-can-we-talk-about-it-later? look. She nods, eyes still bulging. When the bell rings and my groupies disperse, Tammy pats me on the back. “What happened?”

  “I’m not supposed to discuss it,” I say softly, lifting my legs onto the bench and hugging them into my chest. Probably bad luck to talk about the canceled wedding before it’s actually canceled, huh? Kind of like letting the groom see the wedding dress before the ceremony. In a twisted sort of way.

  “I honestly understand. Nobody knows family politics better than I do. But if you need to talk, I’m a hundred percent here for you. I remember how screwed up I felt when my mother married my stepmother.”

  My heart melts. Tammy is so nice. I’ve treated her horribly since I got into the fashion show. I should have Miri whip her up a happiness potion.

  She smiles shyly. “So does that mean I can tell Aaron I can go to the dance with him? I told him I couldn’t because of the wedding.”

  Omigod! “What? He asked you to Spring Fling?”

  She pulls the elastic from her hair, fluffs the light brown strands, and lets them sit on her shoulders. I like when she wears her hair down. It makes her face look softer. “Yup, he finally asked me.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “He asked me last week and we weren’t exactly talking.” Her dark eyes cloud over. “Look, I’m sorry for not being more understanding about your work schedule. I know it’s tough, and I should be more supportive about something that’s so important to you.”

  She is so cool. If there were an award for the world’s greatest friend, she would so win. She’s apologizing for my not making enough time for her. And she said no to Aaron even though she’s dying to go to the dance as much as I am. She would rather hang out with me at my dad’s lame-o wedding. She honestly deserves a medal. Maybe I’ll have Miri whip up one of those, too.

  “Thanks, Tammy,” I say, overflowing with gratitude. Then I add, “And I should make more time for my friends.” With that, we link arms and head to our lockers.

  On the stairs we run smack into an all-in-white London. She shakes her fist at me and screams, “Where were you?” at the top of her lungs.

  Whoa. I slide backward in fear. “Where was I when?”

  “Hello? At lunch? We had a meeting today. I took off class so I could meet with all the freshmen and sophomores to see the formal.”

  What is she talking about? “I thought we were supposed to practice the formal dance on Sunday.”

  “I changed my mind last night. I phoned Melissa and she said she would call the rest of you. She told me she spoke to you.”

  What a witch. And I mean that in a positively negative way. Melissa purposefully didn’t tell me about the rehearsal so I’d look bad. Or maybe she didn’t want me dancing with Raf. She makes me want to puke. Maybe her bulimia is contagious. “I’m sorry,” I say. “But Melissa never told me.”

  “Whatever. It’s too late now. But you’d better not miss any more rehearsals or you’re out of the show. I don’t care how good you are,” she growls before stomping off.

  I lean against the wall, shell-shocked.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Tammy says, patting me on the back. “They can’t kick you out now. The show’s in two weeks. And you’re too good.” She tries to make me feel better all the way to our lockers, but I’m too busy steaming to pay attention. I hate Melissa. If only I were the witch instead of Miri. I’d put a hex on her for sure. Turn her into a mouse. No, too cute. A rat. Or a frog. Or a tuna fish that I can mash up and feed to Tigger.

  “What are you doing tonight?” Tammy asks as she spins her lock combination.

  Should I invite Tammy to come with me to Mick’s? He’s having another party. I probably should. But then I’ll have to hang out with her, and I would rather spend the evening flirting with Raf than, sorry, babysitting Tammy. I open my locker and pull out my books. “I don’t know. I’m usually really tired after rehearsal. I’ll probably just crash.”

  “I understand. Call me if you want to hang out. I could just come by. We don’t have to do anything crazy.”

  “Why don’t we see how the day goes? Oh hey, wait a sec.” I hand her one of the fashion show tickets. “I don’t know if you want to sit with my family, but I got six awesome seats.”

  “Thank you!” she says, and gives me the okay sign.

  I charged my family for the tickets, I had to— London was very clear that we were responsible for the cost. I’m not made of money. But I owe Tammy.

  After school, I head to the cafeteria for the all-girls dance rehearsal and make a beeline for Melissa. She’s in her pretend tanning position. But this time she’s wearing sunglasses.

  We’re inside. There’s no sun.

  I loom over her, so that if there were sun, I’d be blocking it. “Thanks a lot for telling me about the lunch practice.”

  She lifts her shades and bats her eyelashes. “Didn’t I?”

  Of course her eyes are blue. Why aren’t my eyes blue? It’s so unfair. She gets red hair and blue eyes. “No, you didn’t. I missed it and got told off by London.”

  “That’s too bad.” She flicks her sunglasses back down.

  Loathing overwhelms me like nausea. Maybe this intense emotion is enough to spark my long-overdue powers. I close my eyes, purse my lips, and focus.

  Next time this chick

  Is on her way back from class,

  Give her a push . . . no . . . a

  kick, yeah, a kick,

  And make her fall on her—

  Jewel pinches my waist before I can finish the thought. Hey, that was pretty good. If this witch thing doesn’t work out, I can always become a poet.

  I’m sitting with Jewel, Melissa, Doree, and Stephy on the living room couch at Mick’s, and Melissa is making fun of all the people who were not lucky enough to be invited.

  “Oh, shut up,” Jewel says, and rolls her eyes. “Not everyone can be as fabulous as you, Melissa.”

  “As fabulous as us,” Stephy says, giggling.

  That’s me. Fabulous. Part of the fabulous group. Fabulous and miserable. Miserable because Raf isn’t here. I’m wearing my good jeans and a great silver V-neck top I borrowed from Jewel. And I spent twenty minutes doing my eyeliner.

  And then I got here and ran straight into Will, who told me that Raf is sick at home with a fever.

  I should bring him chicken soup. Does it count if it’s instant?

  Melissa kicks the marble coffee table. “Did you guys see what Janice Cooper was wearing today?”

  Stephy cracks up. “Yes! Overalls. What, is she a farmer?”

  And that’s when the worst thing in the world happens.

  Before I left the apartment, I gave Miri two instructions. One, if Raf calls, tell him I’ll be at Mick’s and I’ll see him there. Two, if Tammy calls, tell her I was really tired and went to sleep.

  So here I am, cross-legged next to Jewel on the couch, when Jeffrey Stars walks into the living room. Followed by Aaron Jacobs. Followed by . . . Tammy.

  What is she doing here?

  Her mouth drops open when she sees me. And then she just stares.

  “Hi,” I choke out. I want to sink into the couch pillows. I want to disappear. I really wish I had that invisibility cloak. Maybe she didn’t call my house. Maybe I can tell her I called her, an
d her moms told me she was here.

  “I just spoke to your sister,” she says. Her top teeth grind into her bottom teeth. “I guess you woke up.”

  “Yeah,” I say, and slump deeper into the couch. I played Russian roulette and lost.

  She turns to Aaron. “I want to go home.” Aaron puts his arm around her, and without looking back, the two of them leave.

  I should chase her. But what would I say? I didn’t want to babysit you? I wanted to hang out with Raf? With Jewel?

  The girls beside me immediately crack up. “What was that?” Melissa shrieks.

  “Are they a couple?” Doree asks.

  “Shnoz and Acne?” Melissa says, then laughs.

  My mouth drops open. “Why do you call them that?” I ask.

  Doree giggles. “Because yesterday he had the biggest zit ever. And she has the biggest shnoz. But I shouldn’t say that,” she tells the others. “Rachel used to be friends with her.”

  Doree, Melissa, and Stephy laugh even louder.

  I stare at the carpet. Used to be friends with her. But now I’ve traded her in. For the fabulous company beside me.

  Jewel pats me on the back and gives me a quarter smile.

  I wonder if just a few months ago Doree said something demeaning about me and then added, “But I shouldn’t say that. Jewel used to be friends with her.”

  And Jewel just sat there, staring at the carpet.

  I’m eating a quick breakfast before Saturday’s rehearsal when Miri runs into the kitchen, wearing a T-shirt and underpants. “You’ll be back at one, right?”

  “Yes, Mir, I’ll be back at one. For the rally. I haven’t forgotten.”

  Her smile lights up her face. “Awesome! I’m so excited. I’m going to spend the rest of the day training with mom and then practicing my high roundhouse kick.” She squats and lifts her fists to her hips, in the ready position. “I can’t seem to nail it. It’s much weaker than my snap kick. It’s probably because—”

  “Do you have everything you need for Dad’s love spell next weekend?” If I wanted a Tae Kwon Do lesson, I’d sign up. And I’m beginning to wonder what exactly takes place during these mysterious training sessions. If I didn’t have, oh, ten million things occupying my thoughts, I’d ask.

  “Almost,” she says, and whips out a list from her shirt pocket. “I need to pick up some yogurt. The one we bought last time is past its expiration date. Oh, did I tell you that Tammy called last night? I told her you were sleeping, like you said. She left you a message.”

  I swallow my cereal along with the lump in my throat. “What did she say?”

  “That Jeffrey invited Aaron to a party, and Aaron invited her. They wanted you to go with them. And if you woke up, to call her cell.”

  Tammy definitely gets the greatest-friend award. And I get a kick in the butt.

  The day gets worse. Melissa is in charge at rehearsal, which makes it particularly painful, and Raf is home sick.

  At least I have Jewel.

  “Melissa, how much longer are we going to be?” I ask.

  She stops the music and positions her hands on her hips. “Why? Do you have something else to do that’s more important? I’m sure London would love to know what it is.”

  I can’t believe she’s threatening me. We were only supposed to be here until noon, and it’s already half past. “Whatever.” I’m out of here in ten minutes, no matter what.

  “You sure? I don’t mind if you go. London told me to tell her if you gave me any attitude.”

  Why does she even need me here? I don’t have to do anything but stand and look interested. I’m about to tell her where to get off when Raf hunches through the doorway.

  Melissa gestures to all of us to stay put. “How are you feeling?” she gushes.

  “Okay,” he says. “I’m still tired, so I’m just going to watch instead of dance.” He looks pale, as if someone rubbed chalk on his cheeks.

  An aw! goes through the room. Melissa massages his back. No way am I leaving now, when she’s trying to fondle my quasi boyfriend.

  “I’ll be right back,” I mutter. Not that anyone can hear me from my exile in the corner of the room. I call my sister from the pay phone by the bathroom.

  “Where are you? I want to go already,” she squeals into the phone. “I am so excited. I’m wearing tights under my jeans so I can stay warm.”

  I take a deep breath. “Mir, I’m really sorry, but there’s no way I’m getting out of here anytime soon.”

  “Oh.” Silence. “But you promised.”

  “I know I promised, but I can’t leave. Melissa is being horrible and the show’s in two weeks.”

  “But the peace rally is today.”

  “Miri, I can’t. Ask Mom to take you.”

  The next thing I hear is a dial tone. Did she . . . Did my little sister hang up on me? I don’t believe it. She’s never hung up on me. She’s never hung up on anyone.

  I slip back into my spot in Siberia.

  “So nice of you to join us again,” Melissa yells over the music, then returns her hand to Raf’s forehead. “You don’t feel too warm,” she coos.

  What a miserable week. My sister and Tammy hate me, and my rival is flirting with my quasi boyfriend. Can’t something good happen?

  My body starts to tingle. I look up. Raf is watching me. I give him my best aren’t-I-cute smile, and he winks. My skin feels warm, as if I’m being kissed by the sun.

  This will all pay off in two weeks. When I’m at Spring Fling with Raf. When I won’t need the sun to feel like I’m being kissed.

  It’s all worth it.

  Isn’t it?

  19

  THE ENCHANTED PARENT TRAP

  The next week passes in a blur of rehearsals, midterms, and assignments.

  Monday: Rehearse at lunch, rehearse after school. Go to Soho and get fitted for Izzy Simpson dress. Woo-hoo! Come home, still getting silent treatment from Miri about missing peace rally. Trail her around apartment, tail between my legs, until she finally breaks down and forgives me. Realize I’ve forgotten all about Huck Finn. Plan on reading a hundred pages. Fall asleep after five.

  Tuesday: Rehearse at lunch, rehearse after class. Go back to Soho for second designer fitting. On way home from practice, realize impossibility of reading an entire book in one night. Do something always promised self would never, ever do. Stop at bookstore and buy Cliff’s Notes.

  Wednesday: Rehearse at lunch. English class. Oddly, instead of getting nailed by Ms. Martel for reading Cliff’s Notes instead of real book, know all answers and come across as Huck Finn genius. Apparently, Ms. Martel gets questions from teaching guide at back of Cliff’s Notes. Would call her lazy, but that would be like pot calling kettle black. (No idea what that means. Why would a pot call a kettle black? Who has a black kettle? Have never seen black kettle.) Rehearse again after school. Return to Soho for third designer fitting. Feet begin to ache.

  Thursday: Mortified by Hayward when she holds up perfect score in front of whole class. Jewel gets A-, which she’s pretty excited about. No idea what Tammy gets, since we’re no longer friends. Rehearse at lunch. Write French midterm. Rehearse after school. Back to Soho. Feet begin to swell.

  Friday: Rehearse at lunch. Rehearse after school. Back to Soho for final fitting. Feet now feel as if they’ve been set on fire whenever pressure is applied. Get home in time to argue with sister about reasons for not accompanying her to Long Island. Reminded by sister that STB will be mental case with wedding so close, and that twenty-nine wedding updates have been sent to guests in past week. (In-boxes have twice been clogged with massive JPEGs.) More begging follows. Notice sister’s pursed lips and sudden waft of cold air, and warn sibling that if she jinxes the show in any way, she will find herself in serious hot water! Lips unpurse and room warms up. Review plan to steal father’s belongings, and send sibling on way. Will miss father this weekend, but happy ending is in store.

  Saturday: All-day rehearsal. Feet in severe pain. Might have t
o amputate.

  By the time I stumble home from another all-day rehearsal on Sunday, I feel like a cavewoman, barely able to stand upright.

  “Did you get something of Dad’s?” I ask, poking my head into Miri’s room. She’d better have. The wedding is in six days.

  Six days!

  She’s writing at her desk and doesn’t look up. “Yup.”

  “What did you take?”

  “A sock,” she says, still not looking up. I know she’s mad at me because I deserted her this weekend, but there was nothing I could do. It’s now eight thirty Sunday night, and she arrived home even earlier than I did.

  Why is she being so annoying? Hello, Miri, look up! I plop myself onto her bed and lean my feet against the wall. “A dirty sock or a clean sock?”

  “Clean.”

  “Good. Because I’ve smelled Dad’s dirty socks, and I doubt Mom would be able to sleep on one.” At least that’s one trait from my parents I didn’t inherit. Smelly feet. I think. I bend my leg toward my nose. Smells fine. “What other ingredients do you need?”

  She keeps writing. “Don’t worry, I took care of it.”

  “You took care of all the ingredients?”

  “Yeah. All done. And the spell. And the fractions. The sock is already under Mom’s pillow.”

  Oh. Well. “All righty then. You’re very efficient.”

  She continues writing, fully ignoring me. How long can a person hold a grudge?

  Monday night we’re in the middle of yet another revolting vegetarian dinner (sloppy joes made with spinach, mushrooms, cabbage, and some unidentifiable beige vegetable) when someone buzzes from downstairs.

  “Are you expecting anyone?” Mom asks, putting down her fork.

  We both shake our heads. Raf coming to proclaim his love? I skip over to the intercom. “Who is it?”

  “It’s Dad!” Dad? Omigod. Dad! It worked! He’s here! “Come on up!” I scream into the intercom. I know screaming is annoying for the person listening, but I’m too excited to think clearly.