My mom smiles. “Lemon sorbet. And what did you two eat? Oranges?”
So my mom saw the fruit. And she wasn’t too angry. After Miri outlined her plan, Mom gave us her “just be careful” lecture (whatever, she’s using magic to help her dating life; how careful is she being?) and then shocked us by offering to help distribute. “I’d rather be around if you’re talking to strangers,” she explained.
And that’s where we are now. In Washington Square Park, handing out oranges to anyone who looks hungry. The three of us filled two shopping bags each with as many as we could carry. The sun is shining, and my first bag is almost empty.
“Would you like some fruit?” I ask an elderly woman in a sleeping bag on a bench.
She eyes me suspiciously, so I gently place it on the edge of her bed. She picks it up, squeezes it, and then nods. I hand her another one, and the three of us move on.
My hands are starting to chap from the cold, but my insides feel warm, like I just finished a cup of hot chocolate. I don’t remember the last time the three of us had so much fun. Once our bags are done, we stop back at the apartment for a refill and then head over to the Lower East Side.
“Oranges! Who wants fruit?” Miri sings, looking happy but determined. Her cheeks are flushed, her hair is wind-blown, and she hasn’t stopped smiling all afternoon. Next to her, my mom has the same sun-kissed tousled look. And I bet I do too. I lock my arms through theirs, and we giggle as we skip down the sidewalk, smiling and reeking like a fruit stand.
My good mood lasts until the next morning, when Raf walks past my locker. I wave and our eyes lock and I think, This is it! But then . . . he gives me his half smile, waves back, and walks away. Hello? He’s supposed to be under my spell. Why isn’t it working? Is his hatred for me that intense?
I don’t have time to dwell because we’re rounded up for a second all-school meeting in the auditorium. I shuffle inside and find a chair in the front row. Alone. With an empty seat on each side of me. Apparently, my loser status is still intact.
Mrs. Konch, Mr. Earls, and Will Kosravi are back onstage. “We have some unfortunate news,” Mr. Earls says. “The damage to the gym, the cafeteria, the locker rooms, and the downstairs classrooms will cost approximately forty thousand dollars to repair.”
The room collectively gasps.
“Even more unfortunate is that the insurance company does not cover acts of cows. Especially since they’re sure that this is an act of vandalism, or as some might call it, the senior prank.”
I sink lower in my seat. Insurance won’t cover it?
Will takes the microphone. “Guys, I’m pleading with you: if you know who’s responsible, turn them in. Because the money has to come from somewhere. Please do the right thing.” It’s almost as if he’s looking directly at me . . . right into my liable soul.
Guilt explodes in my stomach like a bad case of food poisoning. Maybe I should come clean. I’ll go to Konch’s office and admit it’s my fault. My family’s, anyway. Yeah, right. I could never turn Miri in. The government would go nuts, and she would be forced to live in a glass box where creepy scientists would study her every move. Poor Miri. I want to wrap her in a warm blanket and protect her, not turn her in. Anyway, she didn’t mean any harm. She was trying to save the cows.
Mr. Earls is glaring at the seniors in the back row. It’s not like anyone suspects me. I look up at Mrs. Konch. She’s eyeing the last few rows with extra suspicion. And Will is . . . still staring at me. Right at me. Intensely at me. I quickly look away. Oh, no. He knows. Gulp. Impossible. He can’t have a clue. He’s probably not even looking at me. He’s most likely admiring some hottie behind me. Why am I such a diva? I twist around, but the block of rows behind me is filled with sophomore boys. Hmm. Slowly, I lift my head back up. Oh, no. He’s still staring! I know, he probably hates me because of Raf. That must be it. Of course he doesn’t know about the cows. He hates me because I stood up his baby brother. Just as I want to protect Miri, Will wants to protect Raf.
I sit on Miri’s spell book to get her attention. “We need to zap up some money.”
“I have forty bucks,” she says, pointing her chin toward her piggy bank.
“A little more than that.” It still stinks like oranges in here even though we gave them all away.
She drops her pen. “How much?”
“Forty thousand.”
“Are you crazy?”
“Unfortunately not. The cow damage is expensive to fix. And they don’t know where to get the cash.”
Her face drains of color. “What are we going to do?”
“Rob a bank?”
She jumps out of her chair and cracks open her piggy bank, which looks nothing like a pig, since it’s a plastic slot machine. You press a cherry and it opens up. I know this not because she’s shown me, but because I once had to borrow five bucks. Fine, ten bucks. All right, fifty, but I was desperate. She waves a twenty in the air. “Let’s do a multiplying spell!”
“I don’t know,” I say, feeling squeamish. “I didn’t mean we need to zap up money literally.”
“Why not? It’s perfect! We’ll whip some up, and you’ll mail it to the principal. Problem solved.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s mega-illegal.”
She sits back down in her chair. “Why?”
As much as it pains me, I explain. “We’d be creating counterfeit bills. And each bill has a serial number. So the school would know. And if they didn’t know, we could get them into a lot of trouble.” When did I become the responsible one?
“I don’t think anyone would notice,” she says stubbornly.
“It’s too risky. We’ve already caused enough trouble. And you have to think of the consequences. In this case, jail.” I try to remember what we learned during first semester in economics. “Anyway, you can’t just make up your own money. It would cause inflation.”
“I don’t get it.”
“Me neither. But it doesn’t matter. We need a new plan. We have to earn money.”
She drags her spell book out from under me. “I told you my idea. If you don’t like it, come up with something else. Anyway, I’m busy. I need to find a way to get oranges to Africa.”
“Excuse me?”
“Helping African orphans is number two on my list. You’d know what I was talking about if you hadn’t fallen asleep when we were making it. They need the vitamin C even more than New Yorkers do. We could take the broom there, but there must be a faster way.”
“There are airplanes. Come up with a way to earn money and we can take a trip.” I should really take a look at this list.
Miri snorts. “Airplanes. Please. Don’t you get it? I have powers.”
Better make it a first-class ticket for her big head.
It’s Tuesday morning, and I still have no new moneymaking ideas. I’m stuffing my jacket into my locker, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, when I spot Will standing like a statue, staring at me. Again, intensely, like he’s burning up. His black hair looks messy, and his big brown eyes are flashing. Come on, Will, it’s time to move on. Raf and I are going to be back together as soon as the spell kicks in and then you’re going to feel stupid for hounding me.
I pile my necessary books into my arms and march away from him. What a jerk. A sexy jerk, but still a jerk.
“Do not drink from that glass,” Tammy tells me, wagging her finger at me in disapproval.
“Oops.” I return it to her glass coffee table with a bang. “My mistake.”
“That was your third try,” she whispers. “I’m on to you.”
Tammy has no voice because she’s still sick. We’re both sitting on the mauve suede couch in her living room, watching a classic-movie marathon. Our heads are at opposite ends, and our feet are scrunched into a ball in the middle. “Trust me, you don’t want to get sick. Aaron and I are both miserable. We can’t even leave the house! How can a relationship last when the couple doesn’t even see each other?”
“If yo
u want it to last, it will last,” I say. “And trust me, being at home is better than being at school,” I whine. “I can’t handle another day. You don’t know what it’s like. No one will talk to me. Jewel won’t look at me. Melissa hisses.” At least London has been suspiciously absent. Guess she can’t deal with her own revenge, huh? At least she’s taken down the freaks Web site. “Raf ignores me. And now his brother hates me too! I told you, he’s stalking me! And I had to eat lunch in the library again by myself. No one wants to talk to me!”
“Rachel, I spoke to Janice and she asked about you. She said she always looks for you at lunch.”
“Oh. Right.” Well. I forgot about Janice, Sherry, and Annie. “I guess I could do that.” But they’re Tammy’s friends, not mine. And they’re a little annoying, I’ll be honest. “I could sit with them.” Or . . .
I make another (unsuccessful) lunge for her water glass.
The final bell just rang, and I’m about to leave the building when I turn and notice Will behind me.
Why has my crush’s brother become my stalker? And is he still a stalker if he’s so cute? The eyes, the hair . . . just like Raf but with broader shoulders.
I hurry out the door. He follows. I sprint down the street. So does he. I turn onto Tenth Street. Ditto for him. I quicken my pace. He quickens his pace. I make a sharp left at a corner and duck into a magazine store. Seconds later, he walks past. I read Teen People and then, ten minutes later, when the coast is clear, head home.
“Mom, can you help me take out the recycling?” I ask. “There’s a lot to carry.”
We’ve finished dinner and are cleaning up. Something smells like burnt sardines. Must be coming from the recycling cupboard. I grab the pizza box, my mom gathers the empty cartons that have been piling up, and we carry the riches to the dump on the second floor. Now the hallway smells.
“So how’s school?” my mom asks.
“Better.” Slightly, anyway, since I spent lunch with Janice, Annie, and Sherry. But they’re not a reason to get up in the morning.
Dave, aka the hunkalicious fireman, is locking up his apartment. He waves, heads to the stairs, pauses, then shuffles back to us.
“Do you ladies need help?” he asks, giving us his sexy, toothy smile.
“We’re fine,” my mom says. “But thanks.”
“You smell amazing, Carol,” Dave says, making me almost drop the glass bottle I’m holding.
What is he talking about? All I can sniff is the sardine thing. Yuck.
My mom blushes a deep red. “Thanks. That’s so sweet.”
“I was wondering, maybe you’d like to stop by sometime for a drink?”
Welcome, ladies and gentlemen. We’ve officially entered the Twilight Zone. We’ve been living in this building for a decade. True, my mom has been single for only a few years, but still, the fireman has never shown any interest in her. What is it about the recycling bin that has caused his change of heart?
“Perhaps,” my mom says coyly, whisking a strand of her hair behind her ear. She waves good-bye, and we silently return to the apartment.
As soon as she closes the door, I say, “What was that about?”
Blush. “What?”
I can still smell the burnt sardines. Where is that coming from? I lift my nose in the air and inhale. To the right. Closer to Mom. Still closer to Mom. It is Mom. I sniff her neck. “Why are you wearing sardine juice as perfume?”
She steps back. “It’s a new scent I’m trying.”
My mother has not purchased an eau de anything since 1989. Something’s fishy here, and it’s not just the perfume. “Why would you buy something that smells disgusting?”
She hesitates. “I didn’t buy it.”
“Was it a sample?”
“Not exactly.”
Abracazam! “It’s a spell!” I shriek.
Mom turns bright red. “It’s an . . . attraction perfume. I was looking through my old spell book, and it looked interesting, so I thought . . . well, I thought why not give it a try? To see. Anyway, judging by what just happened,” she whispers, “I think it works.”
“Um . . . hello? Can I have some of that?”
“It’s too strong for a teen. When you’re older. Maybe. If you can prove to me you’ll use it responsibly and properly.”
I could properly use it right now.
Friday lunchtime! The week is almost over. I’m about to go inside from gym when I spot Will waiting for me outside the door.
I hide behind Janice and sneak into the bathroom. About ten minutes later, when most of my class has left for lunch and I assume senior classes have started, I tentatively open the door. But there he is, pacing the hallway, waiting for me. “Rachel!” he says, looking relieved. “Hey, hang on. I’ve been trying to talk to you all week.”
The jig is up. I have nowhere left to hide. I’ll have to stand here and be told off. “Yes, I’ve noticed.”
“There’s something I have to say to you,” he says, his voice rising.
I hope this doesn’t take long. I’m starving. And Janice invited me to meet her and the girls at the Quiznos down the block. “I know. So just do it already.”
He takes a step toward me. He really is handsome. I’ve never been yelled at by a stud before.
“I think I’m in love with you,” he says, and before I die from shock, he steps closer, looks deep into my eyes, and kisses me.
8
Something Borrowed
If I had died from shock, by now Will Kosravi would have resuscitated me. Because he is kissing me. At first it’s like I’m watching the scene from afar: I see Will’s hand gently caressing my cheek as his lips press against mine. It’s all very romance-novelesque. But then he opens his mouth, and my brain slams back into my body.
My tongue just touched someone else’s tongue! And it’s squishy!
Oh. My. God. I am kissing Will Kosravi. I am french-kissing. And this whole tongue thing makes kissing a real boy far more interesting than kissing, say, my pillow or the back of my hand. I can’t believe that after all the many years of imagining what kissing is, and what it feels like, I’m doing it.
Because he’s almost six feet tall, my face is tilted up at a ninety-degree angle, which doesn’t hurt, because his hand is now very thoughtfully supporting my neck. He smells musky, like aftershave. Omigod, I’m kissing a boy old enough to shave!
I have to admit, this is very nice.
Am I supposed to be doing anything? Besides letting my mouth hang open while my tongue gets pushed around like a grocery cart? Perhaps I should do something with my lips? Jiggle them? What if I bite his tongue by mistake? Am I the worst kisser ever? If I knew he was going to kiss me, I would have spit out my gum. Where is my gum? It was definitely in there before this kissing commotion began. It might be hiding between my molars and gums like a frightened turtle. I don’t want to send out a search tongue for it, because what if that’s the one thing you’re not supposed to do while kissing? Oh, I think I feel it at the back of my mouth. Maybe I should just gulp it. But what if I swallow his tongue instead? And then I choke?
The next thing I know, Will pulls away, signaling that the kiss is over. Now he’s smiling at me, saying, “Cool.”
“Uh, yeah.” I’m mildly unclear as to what planet I’m on. Why did Raf’s brother just kiss me?
“I was serious before. I think I . . . love you,” he continues, his eyes getting all googly.
What, what, what? Love? How is it possible that the love of my life’s brother loves me? When I love his brother? Will leans over to kiss me again, but this time I use my hand to stop him. “What about Raf?”
“I know you two used to be together, but I asked him if I could hang out with you and he said it was cool. Can we do something this weekend?”
“Okay,” I say, partly out of shock and partly out of rejection. Raf doesn’t care that his brother likes me? Loves me? How can that be? No way I’d let Miri date Raf. Unless I was completely and utterly over him.
/> My heart sinks. Raf must be completely and utterly over me. Not even Miri’s love spell could overcome his distaste.
“Another kiss?” Will asks, raising his hand back to my cheek.
“Sure.” Well, why not?
“It makes no sense,” I say to Tammy via the phone in my bedroom. I’m lying on my bed, my feet up against the wall.
“I don’t know what to tell you,” she says, her voice still hoarse.
“Should I cancel the date?”
“Do you want to go out with him?”
“I want to go out with his brother! I just don’t get it. I never had a clue he had any feelings for me at all!”
“Did he say when he started liking you?”
Good question. Did he like me while I was dating Raf? Or maybe he’s liked me since the first day of school but didn’t feel it was appropriate for a senior to date a freshman. He must have been out of his mind with jealousy when Raf asked me to Spring Fling.
I hear Miri’s key jingling in the front door. “Rachel? You home?”
“In my room!”
“Guess what!” she screams at the top of her lungs while throwing open the door. “We’re going to Africa! I found a transport spell!”
I hastily attempt to cover the receiver with my palm, but I think it’s too late. “Are you crazy?” I mouth. I wave the phone at her.
Her eyes widen and her jaw drops.
I place the phone back against my ear, take a deep breath, and try to sound oh-so-nonchalant. “What was your question? When Will started liking me? I’m not sure. It could have been recently.”
Silence. And then: “Did your sister just say that she found a transport spell? And that you’re going to Africa?”
Terrific. I shake my fist at Miri. “What? Oh, no, you must have heard wrong.” Think fast! “She said the train, um . . . smelled. Like . . . Africa.”
Miri rolls up into a ball by my bed, and her lips are quivering with fear.
Another silence. Tammy’s not going to buy it. Our cover is ruined. Miri has just ruined everything! I trust Tammy and all, but you never know; this is a big secret. What if she tells her Moms and they call the press, and then Miri and my mom are institutionalized? Oh, no. I’ll be forced to live with my dad!
Frogs & French Kisses Page 8
