Bras & Broomsticks (26 page)

She nods, bites her thumb in contemplation, then pulls it away. “All right. I’ll take it.” I pull the beaker out of my purse and she downs the rest of the potion. “I think I’m going to puke,” she says. “That tasted like garbage.”

I hear laughter coming from my father and STB’s room. “That sweater is so ugly!” STB shrieks. “It’s so ugly we couldn’t even give it away. We’ll have to burn it. Rachel, Miri, come and join us!” she calls. “This would be more fun if you were here!”

What is wrong with her? “In a minute!” I shout back. Apparently, the post-brunch fashion show activity has begun. I lie on my bed, kick my heels up against the wall, and focus on Miri. She’s sitting in the center of the room, blinking repeatedly. “Is it working?” I ask.

“I don’t know.”

“I should start asking you things. Like a lie detector test. Is your name Miri?”

She rolls her eyes. “Yes.”

“How are you feeling today?”

“I’m mad at you because you’re leaving early tomorrow.” As soon as the words are through her lips, she clamps her hand over her mouth. “Oops.”

What? “You’re mad at me?”

She nods. “I can’t believe I just said that.”

“You can’t be mad at me.”

“Why not? You’re deserting me to be with your friends. This is our time together. And I think you’re being selfish. Yesterday I had to play solitaire in bed so I could stay up until midnight.” Her face looks so sad. “Why couldn’t you have waited up with me? And then you made me feel guilty for waking you.”

My cheeks feel hot. “Mir, I was exhausted. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not just that. I know you’re jealous about this whole witch thing, and I’m sorry about that. I don’t know why I have it and you don’t, but it’s not my fault. And I’m scared. I’m really scared. I’m afraid I’m going to accidentally cause someone to get hit by a car, or maybe start a war. And I don’t like doing spells by myself. I made up that thing about needing a Cosmic Witness.” She starts to blink repeatedly. “I’m just really scared of this power.”

Miri—scared? I do a backward somersault off the bed and lay my head in her lap, resting my ear against her knee. “I’ll try to be more supportive, okay? But I have to leave early tomorrow. I don’t have a choice. If I’m not at practice, I’ll get kicked off. You don’t want that to happen, do you?”

She shakes her head and waves her hands in the air, as if she’s trying to get someone’s attention. “The whole idea of the show is stupid. I know it’s how the seniors raise money for prom, but I think it’s just an excuse for obnoxious elitism.” She clamps her hand over her mouth again, stifling a gasp. “Sorry!”

“I guess the spell is working, huh?”

She nods, mouth still held closed.

“Girls?” STB calls from the hallway. “Are you going to join us?”

I cover the spell book with my feet, and Miri wipes her eyes.

STB opens the door without knocking. “I wish you girls would want to spend time with me. I know you think I’m mean, but I only get mad at you when I think you’re doing something wrong. I wish you liked me. Because we’re going to be a family. I’m going to be your mother and—”

“We already have a mother,” Miri interrupts.

Uh-oh. Two truth-tellers cannot possibly lead to anything good.

STB nods. “I know. Your poor mother. I feel terrible for her.” She licks her lips, as though all this honesty is drying them out. “Sometimes I worry that your father will stop loving me, and leave me. He’s so wonderful. Smart and generous and loving and full of energy. I’m so crazy about him it terrifies me. Maybe I’m also tough on you two because I want to keep my emotional distance in case he does leave me—”

This is too much. I do not want to hear about STB’s deepest fears and insecurities. Especially since I’m trying to make them come true.

Miri nods. “We’re hoping that’s what’s going to—”

“Never happen.” I tackle her before she gets us grounded for life.

STB backs out of the room. “Well, come join us when you’re finished.”

“Are you crazy?” I whisper to Miri.

“I couldn’t stop myself. Next I was going to stand up and scream that I’m a witch.” She gives me a sheepish smile. “I guess the spell really does work.”

“Well, you downed a huge amount.”

What does that mean, then? STB likes us? Does she really think we’re role models? Did she realize she was acting out of character? Is she looking forward to us being a family? I don’t buy it. And I don’t care. She’s still not good enough for my father.

But something she said is bugging me, like a tag left in the back of my underwear, scratching at my lower back. About being afraid that my dad will stop loving her. Is that why I never get mad at him? Or tell him when his clothes are ugly? Am I afraid that he’ll stop loving me too? Like he did Mom? My head hurts from all this truth-telling.

“Antidote,” I say. “For both of you. Now.”

She starts mixing.

17

PLAN C

“Hi, Bee-Bee,” Jewel says, pinching my waist. “How was your weekend?”

“Fine. Yours?” My weekend was not fine at all. What am I going to do? My father is never going to break it off with STB if our plans keep backfiring.

“Crazy. We went to Sean’s on Friday.”

Groan. “Was it fun?” Perhaps a pipe burst and the apartment had to be evacuated?

“It was the best,” Melissa interrupts. “Too bad you couldn’t make it. Hope coming today wasn’t too much of an inconvenience.” She’s lying on her back on a cafeteria table, her chin pointed up at the ceiling as though she’s tanning.

Excuse me? What is with the attitude?

London shows up twenty minutes late, clad in cherry red. Red sweatpants, red tank top, red running shoes. She looks as if she’s bleeding.

We spend the next two hours practicing. And I have to say, I’m pretty good.

“I just can’t get that move,” Jewel complains, hands on her hips.

“The spin at the end?” I ask, shuffling over to her. “Let me show you.”

Melissa butts between us. “I can show her,” she says, grinding her teeth.

Why does she look as if she wants to bite my head off? Jewel was my friend first. Really, this chick has some nerve. “What’s your problem?”

She points a finger at my face. “You’re my problem.”

Uh-oh. This is getting a wee bit heavy for me. She’s not going to want to fight me, is she? I have no idea how to fight; that’s Miri’s department. And she’s way taller than I am, so I’m pretty sure I’d lose.

The other dancers are staring.

“Liss, you’ve got to chill,” Jewel warns.

Melissa looks as if she’s about to yell at all of us, but instead she storms out of the cafeteria.

Jewel shrugs, as if this happens all the time. “I’ll go get her.” She chases her out of the room.

What was that? “Did I miss something?” I ask the other girls.

Doree shakes her head. “She’s such a prima donna. Just ignore her.”

“But what did I do?”

“She asked Raf to Spring Fling and was
not
pleased when she heard he’d already asked you.”

“Melissa likes Raf?” I ask. That’s news to me.

“Yeah,” Stephy says. She’s sitting on the floor, stretching. “I didn’t know until Friday. When she freaked out. She actually puked in the bathroom.”

“I heard she might be bulimic,” Doree says.

“She’s so pathetic,” London adds, then waves us closer. “When Laura dropped out, Melissa begged Mercedes to let her be Raf’s partner for the formal wear number. She can’t stand Gavin. She claims he’s a goth freak who steps on her feet.” She lowers her voice. “But Mercedes can’t stand her and said no.” She looks around the room. “Why don’t we break for lunch? Everyone’s coming in thirty minutes anyway.”

Stephy, Doree, and I head back to our lockers. “So that’s why Melissa is so rude to me, huh?” I say. “Because of Raf.”

“My hair must look like crap,” Stephy says, re-parting her hair into new pigtails. “What were you saying? Oh right. Liss. I’m sure it doesn’t help that Jewel’s your new best friend. They used to be inseparable.”

My new best friend? Jewel and I were best buds for
ten years
before we even knew Melissa existed. But to these girls I didn’t exist before the show. They probably think I transferred to JFK in February. Something occurs to me. “If Mercedes and London don’t like Melissa, why is she choreographing the freshman dance?”

“Because of her mom. London thought that if she was nice to her, she’d get to be in a video.”

“It ain’t going to happen with those thighs,” Stephy comments.

“What thighs?” London has no thighs. Are these girls insane?

“They’re massive,” Doree agrees. “A junior who saw them in the flesh in the Hamptons last summer said they’re all cottage cheesy.”

“Just because Melissa was the best dancer doesn’t mean she knows how to string together a routine,” Stephy declares. She snaps an elastic on her pigtail. “So, what do you girls want for lunch? Mixed or low-fat Caesar?”

I’d suggest burgers, but they’d probably faint if I so much as mouthed the word. Calories! Carbs! Grams of fat! But before I can even think about lunch, I need to have something cleared up. “What do you mean, ‘was the best dancer’? As in past tense. What happened?”

Stephy snorts. “You did.”

I’m known as the best dancer in the cast? Imagine if that goes on my yearbook caption! Best dancer. Awesome. Much, much cooler than math genius. Although together they make me look pretty well-rounded. Perfect for college applications.

I’m starting to feel sorry for Liss. After all, I’ve stolen her boyfriend, best friend, title, and potential Ivy League position.

My sympathy subsides after lunch when I sense her sending virtual poisonous darts at my head. If Melissa were a witch, I’d be a cat for sure. Not even. Catnip.

The glowering gets worse when the rest of the cast, specifically Raf, shows up. “Hey,” he says after giving me a quick kiss on the cheek. “I missed you at Sean’s.”

He kissed me! He missed me! “I was at my dad’s.”

He tosses his coat onto a table and unravels his gray wool scarf from around his neck. “You go every second weekend?”

“Yeah.”

“Good thing the dance falls on an odd weekend, huh?”

“Yup,” I say quickly. Nothing else important happening on that weekend. Nope, nothing at all. Especially not my dad’s wedding. Sigh.

I have got to take care of that.

When I finally arrive home at seven that night, I discover that the elevator is broken. Again. I trudge up the stairs, and even though I’m exhausted, I am far less out of breath than I was a few weeks ago.

I open the door to find my mother, hands on her hips, glaring at me. “Freeze, young lady.”

Uh-oh. The apartment reeks of smoke, so I know I’m in trouble. We must have been found out. Outed from the broom closet. She must have been tidying Miri’s room and come across Miri’s lists of spells.

“I-I-I think b-before you say anything, you should know—”

“Rachel, I was expecting you hours ago. You have to let me know where you are.” Her cigarette ashes fall onto the floor. Very classy. “I pictured you lying on some subway platform, hurt. I even called Tammy, looking for you.”