Rhymes With Witches

by Lauren Myracle

  She looked at me. “Are you all right, sweetie?”

  “Huh? Yeah, I’m great. I’m super.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sure.” I laughed. “Mom. Quit staring at me.”

  Mom put her hand on my cheek, cupping it. “I love you so much, Jane. Sometimes it feels overwhelming, did you know that?”

  “Gee, Mom. Thanks for sharing.”

  Her shoulders dropped, and I felt guilty. Then she groaned and creaked to her feet. “Oh, I’m getting old.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  She gestured at the package on the coffee table. “That’s from your dad. From an island in the South Pacific.”

  I sank further within myself. “Terrific. Maybe it’s a VCR repair kit.”

  A ghost of a smile graced her face. “Guess I better put together some dinner. I’ll call you when it’s ready.”

  When she was gone, I gathered up the wrecked cassette and carted it out to the big green garbage can in our garage. I shoved it under a plastic shopping bag and a stray egg carton. I dumped some potting soil on top for good measure, then banged shut the lid.

  Back inside, I opened Dad’s gift. It was a Polynesian vest made of quilted cotton, with cheerful yellow sunshines stitched across the chest.

  On a card was a scrawled message. “Saw this and thought of you,” it said. “Hugs and kisses, Dad.”

  Thursday morning Sukie Karing showed up wearing jeans like mine and a T-shirt identical to the one I’d worn the day before. It was white with red ribbing around the neck and sleeves, and on the upper left corner it read THE ADVERTISEMENT IS ON THE BACK. The back showed a cartoon gunslinger twirling two guns. Above him, a banner read DIRTY DAN’S SALOON.

  “I had it specially made,” Sukie confided. “We’re like twins, even though you’re not wearing yours today. Maybe next week we can coordinate!”

  I should have been flattered—and okay, I was—but I felt weird, too. Sukie could play twinsies with me, and her stock would go up. But if Camilla wore that shirt, would everyone think she was adorable? No.

  But Sukie was Sukie, not Camilla. Sukie wasn’t a Bitch, but as I’d told Phil, she had her own little cache of popularity. That’s what I reminded myself when, as I returned her hug, I slipped my hand into her purse, which hung open and inviting from her shoulder. Because Bitsy’s tape had worked: there was no way in hell I was going back to the pre-Bitch me.

  Better Sukie than someone else, I told myself. That and, It’s only for a week.

  Sukie released me, pink with pleasure. And although her hand strayed to her purse, fumbling for the clasp and hiking the strap higher on her shoulder, she didn’t realize anything was missing.

  “I am just so happy,” she bubbled. “My life is so great. I mean, not like yours, obviously, but I don’t even care—that’s how happy I am!” She widened her eyes. “And Fall Fling is only two days away. Aren’t you just so excited you could burst?”

  “I’m managing to hold it together,” I said. My fingers curled around my plunder. A stick of gum? A little on the linty side from the feel of it.

  The warning bell rang, and Sukie made a face. “Trig,” she said. “Yuckers.”

  I nodded sympathetically.

  “But we’re on for lunch, right?” She squeezed my arm. “I’ve been counting down the days. Bye!”

  I waited until she was officially gone, then unfurled my fingers.

  Juicy Fruit, my favorite.

  On my way to Lurl’s office, I passed a man wearing elbow-length leather gloves and a work shirt that said ANIMAL CONTROL. He was scowling at the ceiling, his hands on his hips.

  I stopped. I watched him for a couple of seconds. “What are you doing?” I finally asked.

  “Those damn cats,” he grunted. “They’ve taken over the duct-work.”

  I glanced up at the rectangular ceiling tiles, smooth and white with little dots on them. I got a jittery feeling of wanting to laugh.

  “So, what, you’re telling me they’re up there above us?” I joked. “Running wild through the ceiling?”

  His scowl deepened, and I followed his gaze in time to see one of the ceiling tiles shift a fraction of an inch. We heard a skittering, followed by a meow. A crumble of cardboardy stuff landed on the man’s shirt.

  “That answer your question?” the man said.

  My smile fell away. I thought of paws padding through dark spaces, and a chill moved through me.

  “Well … good luck,” I said. I realized I actually meant it. “I hope you catch them.”

  I walked quickly down the hall, through the heavy door, and into the connecting corridor. I unlocked Lurl’s office and slipped inside. I expected the room to be empty, as it had always been before, so I about crapped my pants when I heard her deep voice.

  “Lookie, lookie, who’s got the cookie,” she chortled from behind her desk. She held out her hand. “Gimme.”

  The smell of cat food was stronger than ever, but there was still no sign of where it came from. Just her bare office, sterile and gray. The door at the far end leading to … wherever it led. Perhaps to an empty storage room? I shooed the thought from my head.

  I dug into my pocket and pulled out Sukie’s gum. I hesitated, then stepped forward and placed it in Lurl’s palm. I didn’t look at the pencil sharpener.

  “What will you do with it?” I asked.

  She ran the gum under her nose. She sniffed. “Smelly papers—that’s what we used to call the wrappers. I collected them, you know. In a box under my bed.”

  I swallowed.

  She tapped the gum against her desk. “What will I do with it? What I always do, of course.” She giggled her man giggle. “Curiosity killed the cat, you know.”

  My heart crawled up my throat. I couldn’t have spoken if I’d wanted to.

  She stopped smiling, and the tip of her tongue snaked out in disapproval. I got the sense that my reaction didn’t please her.

  “I was crowned the Ice Maiden,” she said in a scolding voice.

  “What?” I croaked.

  “Of the Winter Carnival. I wore all white.”

  She’s shy, Mary Bryan had said. Shy my ass.

  “That’s great,” I said. “I bet you looked great.” I edged toward the door, but a crazy braveness made me ask one last thing. “I hope this doesn’t come out the wrong way, but … why do they call you Lurl the Pearl?”

  She leaned forward, and her T strap glinted in the dim light. “Because I’m such a gem.”

  When the jolt came, it blissed me out. I gave myself over to it and wished it lasted longer.

  The theme for the Fall Fling was “Neverland,” which cracked me up, because without meaning to, the planning committee had nailed it on the head. Instead of a dance, it was a party for kids who never wanted to grow up. Who wanted to stay in high school forever.

  Recently, three and a half more years of high school had started seeming like a really long time.

  But, whatever. The committee had pulled out all the stops and turned the gym into a oversized playground. If I wanted to, I could get strapped into a harness and climb a rock-climbing wall, and when I got to the top I could ring a bell. Or I could get into a harness attached to a bungee cord, and a friend could, too, and we could race each other down a puffy rubber tunnel until one of us got snapped back by the force of the bungee. Or I could get strapped into a giant transparent bowling ball, and two of the chaperones would roll me down a lane set up with oversized bowling pins.

  “Dude,” Ryan Overturf said, slapping Nate Solomon’s hand. He laughed at how funny it was, all these grown-ups going to so much trouble. “This rules.”

  “Yeah, baby,” Nate said, glancing at me to make sure I heard. I smiled at him, and my heart gave a happy, nervous jump. Despite the weirdness of everything else, my crush on Nate still thrilled me. He’d been showing off for me ever since we got here. I knew it because I could feel it.

  “Yo,” Ryan said. He jerked his chin at an inflated ru
bber dome that was supposed to be a boxing ring. You could put on big ol’ helmets and big ol’ boxing gloves—like, the size of pillows—and go at it with your buddies. Ryan stepped closer to Bitsy and threw his arm around her shoulders. “You and me, Bits. I want to rough you up, sweet cakes.”

  “Why are they here?” Mary Bryan said in a low voice. She tugged at her gold halter. “I thought this was a girls’ night. I thought that was the plan.”

  “Don’t get your knickers in a bunch,” Bitsy whispered in return. She removed Ryan’s arm. “You go on, boys. Show us how it’s done.”

  Ryan’s chest puffed out. “Come on, dickhead,” he said to Nate. “You heard the ladies.”

  When they were gone, Keisha bumped me with her hip. “Looks like you’ve got an admirer,” she said. “Nate couldn’t take his eyes off you.”

  At the mention of his name, a warmth spread through me. “Please,” I said.

  “You know it’s true,” Mary Bryan teased. “You’re a princess, and he wants to be your prince.”

  “My prince?”

  Her lips twitched, and I knew she wasn’t buying my protests. “He’s yours if you want him. That’s all I’m saying.” She fingered the strap of my sparkly tank top. “Fabulous Jane in her fabulous new outfit. Who wouldn’t want to be yours?”

  They were buttering me up, I could tell. Bathing me in Bitchdom. I tried to maintain some clarity.

  “Uh-huh,” I said. “Only they’re the totally wrong clothes for actually doing anything in.”

  “Which, of course, is tragic,” Bitsy said. She herself was wearing a flippy black dress paired with high-heeled, knee-length black boots. “Did you want to slip on the Velcro suit and fling yourself at a wall?”

  “The human fly,” Mary Bryan intoned.

  We all glanced at the far end of the gym, where a spread-eagled Elizabeth Greene struggled to free herself from the Velcro-draped wall.

  “Good god,” Bitsy said. “Someone should put her out of her misery.”

  “It’s better than doing nothing,” I said. “I feel lame just standing here.”

  “Then go,” Bitsy said. She fanned her hand out at the different activities. “Knock yourself out.”

  Our eyes met.

  “Fine, I will,” I said.

  “Terrif,” Bitsy said.

  I strolled to the bungee cord race, which did look like fun in a ridiculous sort of way. I looked on as a chaperone told the guy at the front of the line to remove all of his piercings before getting into the harness.

  “Even my nose ring?” the guy asked.

  “Even your nose ring.”

  “Even my tongue ring?” The guy stuck out his tongue and waggled it back and forth.

  “Your tongue ring can stay. Just keep it in your mouth.”

  I skimmed the rest of the line. There was Raven Holtzclaw-Fontaine in a form-fitting sleeveless dress. She shook her head, saying no to the bungee cord, but the guy she was with stepped up to get strapped in. And there was Sukie Karing, biting her cuticles. She’d slopped red punch down the front of her white top, and the girls behind her pointed and smirked. Even Pammy, who seemed to be Sukie’s date, looked as if she’d rather be elsewhere.

  Move on, I told myself. No point worrying about Sukie now.

  My eyes strayed to a guy in a white leisure suit. It was a suit that could have gone either way, super dorky or super cool in a retro seventies kind of style. I saw the guy’s face, and my muscles tightened. It was Phil, and I was pretty sure people weren’t looking at him and thinking super cool.

  My face burned, and I knew I should leave before he saw me. But first I craned my neck to see who he was with.

  Standing beside him, her arm looped through his, was Oz Spencer, wearing a hot pink dress that matched her hot pink hair. I wondered, with a surprising stab of jealousy, if she were wearing a hot pink thong.

  Oz laughed and nudged Phil’s shoulder, then reached up and started removing the gazillion silver earrings that studded her ears. She was going to go for it. She was going to do the bungee race with Phil.

  Phil shrugged out of his jacket. As he did, he caught sight of me. His face got still.

  I lifted my hand in a tentative wave. I smiled, like, Way to go, you big stud!

  He turned his back and reached to help Oz.

  I strode to the bleachers, my heart twisting. Anna Maria and Debbie from my PE class lounged on the seats.

  “Jane, hey!” Anna Maria called. She beckoned me over. “What’d I tell you, huh? Does this rock or what?”

  I took a seat. I smelled Peach Schnapps.

  “We’ve already done the Human Fly and the Box Your Brains Out. Me and Little Debs rocked. Didn’t we, Debs?” She slugged Debbie’s arm. “Bam! Knock out, baby!”

  “And these two sophomores behind us?” Debbie said. “They were all, ‘Ooo, no! It’s too scary! We’d mess up our hair!’”

  “Me and Little Debs were like, ‘What’d you think this was, the prom?’” Anna Maria slapped Debbie’s palm.

  “What about you?” Debbie asked. “You maintaining the tangible?”

  “Huh?” I said.

  Anna Maria cracked up. She told Debbie, “You are such a dork.” To me, she said, “It’s her new way of saying ‘keeping it real.’ Maintaining the tangible, get it?”

  “Ohhh,” I said. “Gotcha.”

  Anna Maria’s laughter kept coming. “Total dorkitude maximus—that’s my Debs.” She reached inside her jean jacket and pulled out a flask. A cool flask, actually. Silver with delicate etchings, curved to fit against her body. She unscrewed the top and took a swig. “Want some?”

  “No, thanks,” I said.

  “Suit yourself. Here, Little Debs.” She handed over the flask. “So. After party at Bitsy’s, right? Should be a rocking good time.”

  She and Debbie leaned against each other and snickered.

  “Down with the skank,” Anna Maria said.

  Debbie lifted the flask. “The skank must die!”

  I wasn’t following. But then, they were drunk. Got the part about Bitsy’s house, though. It made my stomach curl, because no one had told me about an after party.

  I grabbed the flask and downed a long gulp.

  “Go, baby!” Anna Maria said. “Now we’re talking!”

  Passing it back, I said, “I’m out of here. Got to maintain the tangible.”

  More cackling from the peanut gallery. “You do that,” Anna Maria called. “We’ll see your ass at Bitsy’s!”

  “Game’s up, Bitsy,” I said. I sounded whiny, which pissed me off. “Thanks, you know, for including me.”

  “What’s that?” Bitsy said. She turned her attention from Bounce-a-Rama, where Stuart Hill was doing moon jumps off a glittering gray launch pad.

  “Your after party. Anna Maria and Debbie told me.”

  Mary Bryan blushed; Bitsy didn’t. Keisha dropped her eyes.

  “We just …” Mary Bryan started. “I mean, it wasn’t like we didn’t want you to come, it’s just—”

  “Of course we want you to come,” Bitsy said. “We didn’t think you’d want to, that’s all.”

  “Why would you think that?” I said. “Seriously. You at least could have asked me.”

  “You’re absolutely right, and I feel like a prize idiot for being so thoughtless. But it’s all out now, yeah?”

  I couldn’t stop fooling with my ring, using my thumb to rotate it around and around my finger. “Were you just going to drop me off and go without me? Wouldn’t that make you feel pathetic?”

  Bitsy’s eyes widened. “Sweetie!” she said, as if she were truly shocked and worried. “How could you ever feel pathetic? Don’t you know how much we love you?”

  “We thought you were mad at us,” Mary Bryan said. She kind of petted me. “I’m so glad you’re not.”

  I couldn’t let it go. I didn’t know what Bitsy was up to.

  “Keisha?” I said. “Do you want me to come?”

  Keisha looked at me, sadly
almost. Embarrassment coursed through me for being such a baby.

  “I want you to do what you want to do,” she said. “It’s up to you.”

  “Well, I want to go,” I said.

  “Superb,” Bitsy said. She turned back to the Bounce-a-Rama, where Stuart had gotten snarled in the harness. “We’ll leave in a jiff.”

  I looked past the Bounce-a-Rama to the giant bowling ball, where I could see Phil and Oz at the front of the line. Phil said something, and Oz stuck out her tongue. A chaperone strapped her into the transparent ball, and she rolled down the puffy rubber lane, laughing like mad as her dress tangled around her legs. She careened into the bowling pins with an echoing crash.

  We didn’t go straight to Bitsy’s. Instead, we stopped at a house five down from hers, a red brick Tudor with two stone eagles perched at the foot of the winding drive. Anna Maria and Debbie parked behind us on the street. A Jeep full of cheerleaders pulled up last.

  “What’s going on?” I asked from Bitsy’s backseat.

  “Pit stop,” Bitsy said. She killed the motor and got out of the car. Keisha and Mary Bryan climbed out, too. Reluctantly, I followed.

  Debbie, Anna Maria, Elizabeth, Amy, Laurie, and Trish gathered around us. Their voices sounded too loud now that we were away from the Fall Fling. The night air chilled my skin.

  “What now?” Anna Maria said. “Should we, like, just walk up and ring the doorbell?”

  “We could throw rocks at her window,” Debbie said. She mimed an overhand pitch. “Ker-rash!”

  “She’d think it was a gunshot,” Elizabeth said, snickering.

  A thread of fear moved through my chest. I glanced up at the house, which was completely dark, and I remembered what Mary Bryan had told me.

  Bitsy and Camilla were neighbors.

  I turned to Mary Bryan. “Why are we here?”

  She avoided my eyes. “Don’t worry. Nothing’s going to happen.”

  “They’re talking about smashing her window,” I said.

  “Nobody’s smashing anybody’s window,” Bitsy said. “We just felt sorry for her, right, girls? All alone on the night of Fall Fling.” She draped her arm over my shoulders. “Heartbreaking, really. She’s in desperate need of human contact.”