The Wish (4 page)

Chapter Eight

“S
top!” Ardis said
with her hands over her ears. “BeeBee, turn on the lights.”

“I can't,” BeeBee said in a strangled voice. “Aagh. A statue got me.”

“It's not funny.” Ardis stood up. “Turn the lights on.”

“Aaaa!” BeeBee shrieked. “My arms are gone. I'll try to . . . turn . . . them . . . on . . . with . . . my . . . teeth. Aaaa!”

“Turn on the lights! Come on, BeeBee!” Ardis ran toward her and knocked into a statue on the way. The statue swayed. BeeBee yelled, “Watch out! Catch it!” But Ardis kept running.

The statue rocked like a bowling pin. BeeBee started to go to it, and so did I—it was halfway between us—but the statue's swings got shorter, and it wobbled itself back into position. Ardis snapped on the light, and the shadows disappeared.

Nina was laughing so hard, she could hardly talk. “Hack you to bits,” she gasped.

“If a statue went down,” BeeBee said, “it would fall apart. They're delicate.”

Ardis didn't look at us or say anything. She collapsed on the floor and stared at her shoelaces.

It reminded me of times with Freda and Tracy when two of us ganged up on one. I hated when I was the one. I used to do what Ardis was doing now—keep quiet. It only got worse if you showed how hurt you were.

When I was one of the attackers, I used to feel extra safe, but afterward I'd feel terrible.

Before tonight, I couldn't have imagined anybody teasing Ardis. She had seemed untouchable. But not now, and I felt closer to her—she didn't seem so different from me. But I didn't know what to do to make her feel better.

“I'm bored,” Nina said.

Ardis put her paper plate and fork into the shopping bag from the restaurant. “Did Liam ask you to Grad Night yet?” Her voice was friendly, like nothing had happened. She was good at this. She didn't need me to fix things up.

Nina shook her head. “He says I should ask him. But then I think he'll say no, just for a joke.”

He had asked
me
, in one of the notes I'd gotten. And Carlos, BeeBee's boyfriend, had asked me too. Ardis's boyfriend, Russ, hadn't—unless he'd written one of the anonymous notes.

What would Nina and BeeBee do if they knew? Would they have to like me anyway?

“Who are you going with, Wilma?” BeeBee asked.

“I don't know yet.”

“That means nobody asked,” Nina said.

Boy, was she wrong. I could have said so, but I wanted the subject to dry up and go away.

“They will,” Ardis said loyally.

“I heard they already did,” BeeBee said. “Suzanne Russo told me twenty-five boys asked her on Tuesday.”

“Really?” Ardis asked. “Twenty-five?”

“Uh-huh.” Forty actually. “A lot of them were anonymous,” I added.

“You should go with him—Anonymous,” Nina said. “He probably dances better—”

“Twenty-five!” Ardis said. “Congratulations!”

BeeBee said, “If twenty-five boys asked me, I'd put it on a T-shirt. I wouldn't let—”

“Who were they?” Nina asked.

“She probably can't remember all of them,” Ardis said.

“Try,” Nina said.

She was worried about Liam. I named some boys who didn't have girlfriends.

“Who else?” Nina said.

“Ovideo, Benjy . . .”

“Can you imagine kissing Benjy?” BeeBee said. “Your whole face would be wet.”

I thought he was kind of cute, actually, like a bulldog is cute in a slobbery way.

“Who else?” Nina repeated.

“Um, Will . . .”

“Will and Wilma,” BeeBee said. “That works. He's cute—”

“Shut up, BeeBee,” Nina said. “Who else?”

“I'm running out of memory. Daniel . . . Ricky Greiner . . .”

Nina prompted. “Liam? Carlos? Russ?”

“No,” I lied. “None of them.”

“They could be Anonymous,” Nina said.

“Carlos wouldn't do that,” BeeBee said. “He's too faithful.”

No, he wasn't.

BeeBee said, “You want to hang out with Benjy the Slobberer? Or maybe with Furry Eyebrow?”

That was Jared. They'd think I was nuts for doing anything with him, but telling them would at least change the subject. “Actually, I'm going to the zoo with Jared on Sunday.”

“Oh,” BeeBee said.

“Do you like him?” Ardis asked.

No, but I didn't dislike him either. “I don't know. He doesn't drool or anything.”

“Not drooling is the perfect recipe for romance,” Nina said. “Points off for lousy taste.”

Who was she to grade everybody? BeeBee was fun, and Ardis was so poised and nice. But I wasn't sure about Nina. I wanted to like her, maybe just because she looked likable. She was almost as tall as Ardis, with a little puppy fat. Her cheeks were round, her forehead was broad, and her smile was wide. She looked friendly—till she said something.

“Do you like people?” I asked her.

“She's nastiest to her friends,” BeeBee said.

“When Reggie wants you to like him,” I said, “he wags his tail and licks you.”

“I prefer Nina's way,” Ardis muttered.

“Hey, girls!” Mrs. Molzen's voice erupted from the vestibule below. “Here comes the fuzz.” Her head rose out of the stairwell. “Lights out in fifteen minutes.”

“Mom . . .”

“I know there's no school tomorrow, and I know a sleepover is no fun if you can't stay up late. But it
is
late. So I want those lights out.” She left.

Ardis, Nina, and BeeBee had almost identical nightgowns—T-shirts that went nearly to their ankles. I had pajamas. The bottoms had an elastic waistband. The top had red-plastic heart-shaped buttons. The print was red hearts pierced by black arrows on a yellow background. If the spell hadn't been protecting me, the three of them would probably have thrown me out a window.

Ardis and BeeBee stared, but Nina—of course—spoke. “I know,” she said, getting into her sleeping bag. “They're your lucky pajamas.”

“What did I say, Bernice Beryl?” BeeBee's mother called from downstairs. “Turn those lights out.”

“Okay, Mom.” BeeBee crossed the loft. She turned out the lights, and the skyline twinkled at us again. We heard the door close downstairs.

It was quiet for only a second. Then BeeBee said, “Guess what.”

Nina reached over and touched my arm outside my sleeping bag. “Shh,” she said.

“Cut it out, guys,” BeeBee said. “They always do this to me, Wilma. I say, ‘Guess what,' and they won't say ‘What?' They just wait for me to tell them anyway, which I always do, but it takes the fun out of it.”

Now they were ganging up on BeeBee. I wondered if they ever ganged up on Nina.

“We're breaking you of a bad habit,” Nina said.

“What?” I said to BeeBee. I didn't want to be part of it.

“Thanks,” BeeBee said. “You're a pal.”

“Spoilsport,” Nina said.

“Courageous,” Ardis said.

Did she mean the compliment? Aside from the spell?

Ardis went on, “We should all stand up to you once in a while, Nina.”

“Oh yeah?” But she didn't sound mad.

“Anyway, what?” I asked.

“Stephanie called me. She's back for a few days, visiting her grandmother. Her school . . .”

I stopped listening. The Stephanie they were talking about, Stephanie Hartman, had moved away last December. She had been friends with BeeBee and Nina and Ardis, but I hardly knew her.

“Can you come, Wilma?” BeeBee said.

“Where? Sorry.”

“Counting Grad Night dates?” Nina said. “Listen up. We're going blading with Stephanie tomorrow. Can you come?”

“I don't have skates.” And I didn't know how to skate. I didn't want to make a fool of myself. But I wanted to go too.

“No problem,” BeeBee said. “You can rent.”

I didn't say anything.

“Oh, Lord,” Nina said. “We'll teach you how to skate.”

“Okay, I'll come.” It would be fun, with the three of them for teachers.

They started talking about Stephanie again. I stared up at the faraway ceiling. A wave of homesickness washed over me, taking me by surprise. Wasn't I having a wonderful time?

I missed Reggie. He made me too hot and he shook the bed with his panting, but I missed him. I made a fist around the heart locket I always wore. Inside on the left was a tiny picture of Mom, and on the right was one of Reggie.

I wondered what would have happened tonight if I had been here without the spell. Would they have liked me? I hadn't done anything special, except bring a dog to a sleepover and let him pee on a statue.

If Suzanne had given the old lady her seat (which was hard to imagine), and she had been made popular, she would have been here instead of me. And they would be inviting her skating and liking her exactly as much as they liked me—and she was one of the least likable people on earth.

That made me feel funny. The person in this sleeping bag happened to be me, but it could have been anybody.

But if it had been Suzanne, they would have spent the whole night saying nasty things about kids at Claverford, including nasty things about “beloved Wilma.” That would have been the kind of night Suzanne would have wanted.

I was glad I wasn't Suzanne. I'd never act like her. I'd be myself, as I had been tonight, and they'd have to love it. I could stop trying to figure out what made other kids popular. I was popular even if I never acted the part. And I'd be popular forever. After all, why would the old lady give me my wish just to take it away?

“Wilma,” BeeBee whispered, “are you awake?”

“She is now,” Nina said.

“I'm awake.”

“I'm glad you came. It's been the best sleepover I ever had.”

“It's been perfect,” Ardis said.

Nina added, “Fifty points for great company.”

In the dark, I smiled.

Chapter Nine

W
e didn't spend
much time together in the morning because BeeBee had to rush to a class at the Art Students League. Then, in the afternoon, I got to the Chelsea Piers rink early. I stood at the edge and watched, wondering if I'd spend the evening at the hospital having my broken neck put in a cast. A few kids from school were there. It was only half a block from Claverford, so we all knew the place.

Timothy skated by, pretending to fall. He looked like he was about to land and break his back, but he never did. Evadney was skating too, and so was Daphne. Daphne skated well, though weirdly. She didn't seem to have bones—she just oozed around the rink.

They all came over to say hi. I was sitting on a bench, surrounded, when BeeBee and Nina arrived wearing their skates. I looked up from lacing my rented Rollerblades.

“Make them tight.” Nina pointed at my boots. “It gives you an illusion of security.”

“Steph!” BeeBee yelled.

“Beeb!” Stephanie glided to us from across the street. She hugged BeeBee. “Neen!” She hugged Nina. I smiled at her, but she ignored me.

“Remember Wilma?” BeeBee said. “I told you about her on the phone. Isn't she great?”

I smiled again. “Hi.”

She looked at me blankly. “Hi. Where's Ardis?” Stephanie spoke very fast: Hi-where's-Ardis. It sounded like one word.

“She had to go to the dentist,” Nina said. “She forgot, and her mother wouldn't let her out of it.”

“I'll-yell-at-her-for-having-cavities-why aren't-you-blading?” Stephanie said in one breath.

“Wilma's been living on Pluto,” Nina said. “It's a pain, but we have to show her how to skate.”

“She makes up for it,” BeeBee said. “You'll see.”

Stephanie gave me the blank look again, the way you'd look at a mushroom. Wasn't the spell working?

“Up, monster,” Nina said, holding her hands out to me.

I took Nina's hands and got up. The wheels rolled out from under me, and I sat down again—on the ground, with Nina on top of me.

“Sorry,” I said.

“That's all right. I love having a zipper in my eye.”

“I kind of wanted to skate like we used to,” Stephanie said. “I missed you guys.”

“Go ahead. I'll watch.” I could sit on the bench and pretend to be exhausted from so much fabulous blading.

“You don't mind?” BeeBee said.

“Nope.”

“Ten points for unselfishness,” Nina said. “See, Steph, that's what she's like.”

Stephanie gave me a half smile and skated away. Nina and BeeBee followed her.

Was I imagining that Stephanie didn't like me?

They talked while they skated. When they passed my bench, Stephanie turned her head to look at me. They were talking about me.

They went around for a while and then came for me.

“The moment has come,” Nina said. “You're blading.”

BeeBee sat on my left. “Put your arm over my shoulder.”

Nina got on my other side. They supported me to the edge. When I stepped down into the rink, I almost toppled Nina and BeeBee, but Stephanie straightened me from behind.

“You're such a klutz,” Nina said. “It's hard to believe you know how to walk.”

They skated me around the rink. Mostly I glided along, carried by their power, but I tried to move my feet a little. Stephanie, who was skating rings around us, said in a rush, “I-can't-believe-how-patient-you're-being-Neen.”

BeeBee said, “Don't be fooled. She's as nasty as ever.”

“Nasty, but patient. It's weird.” Stephanie looked at me again.

“Sorry for slowing you down,” I said to everybody.

“Hey!” BeeBee said. “What are friends for?”

Stephanie skated away.

“She's mad,” BeeBee said.

“Why?”

“She's acting like a dope,” Nina said.

“She's jealous because we invited you,” BeeBee said. “She wanted to be alone with us.”

“But if she'd give you a chance,” Nina said, “she wouldn't mind.”

“Did she say she doesn't like me?”

“She said she doesn't like you or dislike you,” Nina said. “She doesn't get it—why everybody likes you so much.”

But she should have liked me. She shouldn't have been able to stop herself. My stomach lurched a little. Was the spell ending? Was this how it would end, one person at a time? Who would be the next to go?

They skated me around two more times, and then Nina deposited me at the rink wall.

“I think we should skate with Stephanie some more,” BeeBee said.

“Skate!” Nina told me. “Practice! Or you'll never make the Olympics.” They skated away.

They
still liked me. So what was going on?

My right leg started to go out from under me. I bent down and clutched the wall. After a few minutes, I let go and straightened up. Then I inched along, feeling like I needed a cane or, better yet, a walker.

“Give me your hands. I'll pull you.”

It was Timothy, class funny man, blading backward in front of me. He'd take my hands, flip me over his head, and holler, “Timber.” I shook my head.

“I won't hurt you,” he said. “I promise.”

“I'll do it.” Evadney skated up and held out her hands. I took them, and she started pulling me.

“Lift your feet,” Timothy said.

“That's good,” Evadney said. “But stop looking down. Good. Very good! Now I'm letting go of your hands. You're on your own.”

I was skating—really skating! Stephanie, BeeBee, and Nina passed us, holding hands and skating in step with each other—left foot, right foot, never falling out of step.

“Way to go, Wilma,” BeeBee called as she whizzed by.

“Faster, girl!” Nina yelled.

Stephanie didn't look at me.

I tried to go faster. I put some push into my glide, like everyone else did. It worked! I grinned, and pushed even harder.

Disaster struck. I tripped and pitched forward. I tried to save myself. I waved my arms like a windmill and sort of ran with the skates—I must have looked like an animated cartoon. Then I went down. I shot along the ground for a few feet, scraping my helmet and the side of my jaw on the concrete. Then I skidded to a stop.