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Secondhand Wishes

Page 1

by Anna Staniszewski




  For the Cole family

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Teaser to Once Upon a Cruise

  Copyright

  The day I found the wishing stones, I was running late. Really late. Like “disrupt the entire order of the universe” late.

  Austin had thrown a fit at breakfast because he didn’t want to drink the kale smoothie I made him. He said it looked like slime. (And okay, maybe it did.) After he dumped it all over himself in protest, I had to mop up the floor while Mom changed Austin’s clothes.

  When I finally got to the footbridge where Cassa and I always met in the morning, I was out of breath and she was gone. I glanced at my watch. Almost seven minutes behind schedule. Since I was never ever late, Cassa probably figured I wasn’t coming. Or maybe she walked to school with Marina instead and forgot all about you, an annoying little voice inside me whispered.

  I lingered there for a minute, drumming my fingers on my jeans, trying to decide if I should wait a little longer, just to be safe. But my watch was practically screaming at me to get moving, so I finally took off at a run, as if I could make up the time. But time doesn’t care how fast you go when you’re behind it. So the bell was already echoing through Adams Middle School as I rushed up the front steps. I sped through the seventh-grade hallway—without actually running because that was Not Allowed—and practically fell into first period.

  “Late,” Mrs. Connor said, pointing at me. Her finger felt like an arrow. “Detention.”

  “B-but—” I stammered, my stomach sinking into my knees.

  “Sorry, Lexi.” She tore a pink detention slip from the pad and dropped it on my desk. “Those are the rules.”

  Mrs. Connor was everyone’s favorite math teacher, but she was also big on “tough love.” I never thought she’d use it on me, though. I was plenty tough on myself already.

  I tried to pay attention through the rest of class, making my notes on ratios and percentages perfectly color-coded for Friday’s test. But my eyes kept wandering back to that pink piece of paper. How could I stay after school when I always helped out at the Antique Barn on Tuesdays?

  After class, I hurried up to Mrs. Connor’s desk, but she wouldn’t even let me plead my case. “I know you’re usually very punctual, Lexi, but the school has clear rules about tardiness.”

  “It’s just that my brother …” I stopped, realizing that, unlike my previous teachers, Mrs. Connor had no idea about the genetic disorder that messed up Austin’s intestines and made my family’s life unpredictable. It would be nice to keep it that way, especially since Austin had been doing so much better lately. And really, it wasn’t his fault I’d been late.

  “I help out at an antique store after school on Tuesdays,” I said instead, even though I knew that Cassa’s mom would understand. “I really can’t miss it.” Being late to school and to work in one day was more bad karma than I could handle.

  “You’re a bit young for a job, aren’t you?” Mrs. Connor asked, but she sounded impressed.

  “I like doing it,” I told her. And it meant I didn’t have to ask my parents for an allowance. They had enough to worry about with all of Austin’s medical bills.

  “I’ll tell you what,” Mrs. Connor said. “How about you come to lunchtime detention, instead? It’s all full today, but there should be room for one more student tomorrow.”

  “During lunch?” A tight feeling spread through my chest. Cassa and I had been sitting together at lunch every day for four years. I couldn’t change my routine just like that! But I could tell by the look on Mrs. Connor’s face that she wasn’t going to budge, so I had no choice but to agree.

  Normally, I was glad school had so many rules. It meant you always knew what you were supposed to be doing and when. Just this once, though, I wished she could have let things slide.

  “Oh, and, Lexi,” Mrs. Connor said as I turned to go. “I saw you got a B-plus on the last quiz. Nice improvement!”

  I could only blink in response. Because even though my math grades had been getting better on the weekly quizzes, a B-plus was still far from good, at least for me. That’s why I had to ace our first test.

  When I got to lunch later that day, I sat down with Cassa at our usual corner table. I expected her to ask me where I’d been that morning, but she had her nose buried in a book about English castles. Her shoulders were hunched as if she were cold, but that usually meant she was really into whatever she was reading.

  “Sorry I wasn’t at the bridge earlier,” I said, unzipping my lunch bag. “Things were kind of hectic this morning.”

  “What?” Cassa asked, glancing up from one of the glossy pages. “Oh, I thought I told you. Mom had to pick up some stuff for the store, so she dropped me off at school on her way.”

  Phew. She hadn’t ditched me for Marina. Of course not. I was just being paranoid.

  Cassa frowned across the table. “Is that an old sponge in your lunch?”

  “Yup!” I said. “I saw this video the other day that said to use a frozen sponge instead of an ice pack to keep your food cold.”

  Cassa picked it up between two fingers. “Why?” she asked, wrinkling her nose.

  “It costs less and doesn’t weigh as much,” I said. Then I noticed a moldy smell coming from the sponge. I groaned. “But I forgot to put it in plastic!” My wrapped sandwich was still edible, but a sniff of my apple told me it was a goner. Great. I’d have to scrub my lunch bag when I got home so Mom wouldn’t throw it in the trash. She was a little nutty about protecting Austin from germs.

  “Lexi’s Life Hacks strike again!” Cassa said with a smile.

  I self-consciously touched the industrial-strength hair clips on top of my head. Maybe trimming my own bangs using Scotch Tape hadn’t been the best idea, but they were almost back to their normal length.

  “So what happened this morning?” Cassa asked, offering me some of her baby carrots.

  As I munched, I told her about the slime smoothie. “It’s been taking Austin forever to get over a stomach bug, so when I saw a video about Leafy Green Diets, I thought it might help. But of course Austin wouldn’t even take a sip.” I sighed. “Mom was going on about how there was ‘no convincing medical evidence’ that the smoothie would do anything.”

  Cassa chuckled. “Plus, what four-year-old kid likes kale?”

  I had to laugh too. “I guess it was kind of a stretch. Not even ‘medical miracles’ like to eat leaves.”

  That was what Mom was always calling Austin, her little medical miracle. Mom and Dad had always told me that one day I’d be an older sister, but it took years of doctors and tests and more doctors before it actually happened. Then Austin was born and we knew right away that something was wrong. It was as if the universe had finally given him to us, but with strings attached. No matter what we did, we couldn’t seem to untie them.

  My smile faded. “By the way, I got a detention for being late, so I won’t be at lunch tomorrow, okay?”

  “Wow,” Cassa said, brushing her dark cu
rls over her shoulder. “Lexi Block gets in trouble? I guess there’s a first time for everything. Are you okay?”

  “Fine,” I said automatically. But I was all twitchy inside. Ever since school had started, I’d felt behind on my luck. I needed to catch up, and fast. “Maybe if I do really well on the math test, it’ll balance stuff out.”

  “Of course you will,” Cassa said. “You love math.”

  “I did,” I corrected, “before Mrs. Connor changed how we do everything this year.” I bit into my sandwich. “Anyway, if I get an A on this test, I know everything will be okay again.”

  I could tell Cassa didn’t know what to say, but she didn’t tell me to stop being ridiculous about my “balance of the universe” theory like other people would. That was one of the many reasons we’d been Sort-of Sisters since third grade. That was the year Austin was born with all his medical problems and Cassa’s parents got divorced, and the two of us stuck together while our families were practically falling apart.

  “Oh, hey! Check this out!” Cassa suddenly cried, pulling a neon green flyer out of her bag. “Look what I saw this morning.”

  “Dance club tryouts next week?” For a second, I could see it: me up onstage, spinning and twirling and losing myself in the music. Then I pictured myself messing up the steps, stumbling over someone’s foot, and taking a bunch of other dancers down with me. I quickly pushed the image out of my head. “Are you auditioning?”

  “No way!” Cassa cried. “You know I trip over thin air. But you have to try out, Lexi. Remember when we used to make up dances and put on costumes and stuff? You were so good!”

  “We were also eight.” It was one thing to prance around in a tutu at your best friend’s house where no one besides her cat could see you. It was another to get up onstage—without your best friend at your side, no less—and do a choreographed routine in front of the entire school. “Besides, I have my schedule for the year planned out already.”

  “Come on, Lex. Don’t you ever get sick of doing the same thing all the time?” She chomped into a carrot. “Look at Marina. She’s visited more countries than I’ve visited states! Did you know she’s climbed the Eiffel Tower? Like, the real one? And she’s been scuba diving and Jet Skiing and even spelunking!”

  I nodded slowly, trying to act as if I knew what spelunking was. After Marina had moved into Cassa’s neighborhood over the summer, her name had started popping up in all our conversations. She was nice enough, but the way I saw it, best friends were like shoes: There were only supposed to be two of you. Marina was like a third sneaker jammed onto someone’s elbow. It was a good thing she had a different lunch period than we did, so at least I had Cassa to myself for part of the day.

  “Marina only gets to travel so much because her mom’s in the air force,” I pointed out.

  Cassa shook her head, as if I were missing the point. “I think we should try new stuff this year, that’s all. Have new experiences. I’m thinking of checking out the knitting club.”

  “The knitting club? Aren’t you allergic to wool?”

  “I can make stuff out of cotton.” She raised her eyebrows at me. “Promise you’ll at least think about auditioning for the dance club?”

  “Yeah, okay,” I said, figuring it was easier to agree. I riffled in my bag and pulled out the hand sanitizer Mom insisted I use before and after meals. “Want some?” I asked.

  But Cassa was hunched over her book again and didn’t seem to hear me. I thought about using the rest of lunch to go over my math notes, but that wasn’t right. Since when did Cassa and I sit together in silence as if we’d run out of things to say?

  “Um, read anything interesting in there?” I finally asked.

  Cassa’s face lit up. “Yeah, actually! Did you know that spiral staircases in castles always go clockwise? That way if the enemy is going up the stairs with swords, they’ll have a hard time fighting with their right hands.”

  “What happens if the enemy soldiers are left-handed?”

  Cassa chuckled. “I guess they’re the lucky ones!”

  Soon, we were laughing and joking as usual, the odd silence between us gone. Phew. When the bell rang for the end of lunch, Cassa made a big show of putting the dance club flyer in my bag. I rolled my eyes dramatically and went off to social studies. Cassa’s class had been assigned a time capsule project. But in mine, we had endless worksheets to go through every day, which I actually thought was more fun.

  A few minutes later, I was straining to remember the capital of New Hampshire, when I heard my name over the loudspeaker. “Alexandra Block,” the voice said, “please report to the main office.” Uh-oh. The sandwich in my stomach was suddenly a clump of Play-Doh as I slung my bag over my shoulder and shuffled out of the room. Had Mrs. Connor told the principal about my detention?

  When I got to the main office, everyone was bustling around or talking on the phone. I waited for someone to notice me. Finally, one of the secretaries nearly tripped over my foot on her way to the water cooler.

  “Are you Alexandra?” the secretary asked. When I nodded, her face softened. “Your mom’s on the phone. It’s about your brother. He’s in the hospital.”

  “How bad is he?” I whispered to Mom on the other end of the phone. I was in an empty cubicle next to the vice principal’s office, in an old desk chair that creaked like a rusty gate. Everyone in the main office was still bustling around me, but I could tell they were listening to every word I said.

  Mom sighed. “Austin wouldn’t eat lunch, and when he started to complain that his belly hurt, the school called me. The doctors said his stomach is pretty distended, so they’re admitting him to do some scans and try to locate the intestinal blockage.”

  “He seemed fine this morning,” I said, but that’s how it always was. Austin would come down with a stomach bug or the flu or something, and we’d start to think that this time he’d actually get over it on his own. Then his digestive system would go haywire and he’d be back in the ER again.

  “I know,” Mom said with another sigh. “But the doctor said we caught it early this time. With any luck, he’ll be home in the morning.”

  With any luck. My insides squeezed together as I remembered my detention. I’d already been pushing my luck with my bad math grades. Had being late that morning finally knocked everything out of balance?

  “Dad cut his business trip short, but his flight doesn’t get in until noon tomorrow,” Mom went on. “So we’ll need to make a plan for tonight.”

  “I still have some overnight stuff at Cassa’s house from last time.” I always stayed at Cassa’s when Austin was in the hospital. It was the only good thing about the whole situation.

  “Actually, no,” Mom said. “I called Cassa’s mom first, but she said they’re redoing their kitchen and the house is pretty chaotic right now.”

  “Really?” That was the first I’d heard of it.

  “So when Ms. Hinkley said they couldn’t take you this time,” Mom went on, her voice a little hesitant, “I had to come up with a backup plan.”

  My throat tightened. “What plan?”

  “I asked your aunt if you could sleep over at her house tonight.”

  “Aunt Glinda?” I cried. “I can’t stay with her! Last time she came over, she started crying during a cereal commercial, remember?” My mom’s sister might have been named after the Good Witch of the North from The Wizard of Oz, but she was more like the Emotional Train Wreck Witch of the East.

  “I know your aunt can be a bit … sensitive at times,” Mom said, clearly choosing her words carefully. It was no secret that she and Aunt Glinda had always been polar opposites. “But she’s in that big house all by herself. I think she could use the company.” Mom sighed. “And we’re out of options, Lexi. I need you to be flexible for me, okay?”

  “Fine,” I said, because she was right. Austin was sick. That’s what mattered. It would be all right to stay with my aunt for one night. Tomorrow, things would go back to normal.

&nbs
p; “Good,” Mom said. “I’ll tell Glinda you’ll be at her house after you finish working at the Antique Barn.”

  “You mean I can’t come to the hospital?” Cheering up my brother when he wasn’t feeling well had always been my specialty.

  Mom sighed for about the tenth time. “I’m afraid not, honey. Austin will be in and out of tests all afternoon. You’ll see him tomorrow, okay?” I heard a muffled voice in the background. “Hold on. He wants to talk to you.”

  A second later, my brother whispered, “Lexi, can you do me a favor?”

  He sounded a little out of it, but if he was asking for favors, things weren’t so bad. “What do you need, buddy? Want me to feed your Ninja Turtles?” Or really, pretend to feed them, since they were plastic.

  “Yeah, they get two pizzas each. Oh, and can you read with Batman?” he asked. Austin was still learning his letters, but he and Batman would spend hours looking at comics together. All superhero-themed, of course.

  “Sure, buddy. I’ll take care of it. And I’ll see you when you get home tomorrow. Feel better, okay?”

  “Okay.” His voice was suddenly small.

  “Make sure to tickle your feet for me,” I told him. “And give your nose a honk.”

  That made Austin giggle. “Honk!” he said. Then he added, “LoveyouLexi,” as if it were all one word, and hung up the phone.

  After school, I hurried over to Felix Woods’s locker. Fortunately, he was already there packing up his bag.

  “How many do you need this time?” he asked when he saw me.

  “Two,” I said. “Actually, no. Make that three.” I’d have almost no spending money left, but it would be worth it.

  “You’re in luck. I found a batch of new ones yesterday.” He glanced around the hall to make sure there were no teachers nearby. Then he reached into his locker and took out a handful of perfect four-leaf clovers. After he placed three of them in my palm, I handed over my cash.

  Felix looked around again and then pocketed the money. It was funny to see him acting like a shady criminal. With his innocent eyes and floppy dark hair, he could have passed for a cartoon puppy.

 

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