Secondhand Wishes

by Anna Staniszewski

  “Oh, nothing.” I tried to grab the flyer back, but it was too late.

  “Dance club tryouts. Round 1 on Monday after school in the gym?” Aunt Glinda read. “Are you going to audition?” Her voice was suddenly full of excitement. “I remember when we used to put on music when you were a baby, and you’d jiggle your little behind. It was adorable!”

  I cringed, remembering a video Mom had taken at the Fourth of July parade when I was a toddler. I’d gotten so into dancing that I toppled over and face-planted on the grass, accidentally taking another kid down with me. How embarrassing. That had been the last time I’d performed in public.

  “I don’t know how that flyer got in my bag,” I said. “There’s no way I could do the club, anyway. Even if I got in, rehearsals run late, and I’m not allowed to walk home after dark.”

  “That’s easy. I’d pick you up!” Aunt Glinda said.

  “Don’t you have to work?” My aunt had been a receptionist at the same nursing home ever since she’d graduated from high school. She liked to say that the “old folks” there depended on her, but I’d once heard my mom say that Aunt Glinda needed them as much as they needed her. Since I was pretty sure my aunt never left the house to go anywhere other than work, maybe that was true.

  Aunt Glinda waved her hand dismissively. “I’ll figure it out.” She smiled. “See? Now you have no excuse.”

  “But—”

  “No excuse!” Aunt Glinda repeated. “Trust me, Lexi. You can’t let excuses hold you back in life. I’ve certainly learned that the hard way.”

  “I don’t want to be in the dance club,” I insisted. But as the words came out of my mouth, I knew they weren’t true. I did want to.

  I hadn’t admitted this to anyone, not even Cassa, but last year I’d come really close to auditioning. I’d run through the dance routine so many times, I could have performed it backward. Jumping around my room to the pounding music had made me feel so free, so totally out of control—in a good way. But when the day of the audition came, the thought of being with all those people I didn’t really know, of totally changing my schedule, of doing something without Cassa, and of making a complete fool out of myself, had been too much. That’s why I’d chickened out.

  But now Cassa’s doing stuff without you, that annoying little voice inside me whispered.

  “There!” Aunt Glinda said from the other end of the kitchen. She’d written Lexi’s dance audition in big letters on the calendar on the fridge. “Now you have to do it. And I’ll pick you up afterward so we can celebrate, okay?” She laughed. “Sometimes the best way to get yourself to do something is to write it down. I’ve been dragging my feet on cleaning out this house, but I made a list and now I’m finally tackling it.”

  Wow. I’d never really thought of my aunt as a doer, but she was clearly on a mission. I must have looked surprised because Aunt Glinda added, “You start to see life differently once you turn a certain age, I guess. You realize you need to start moving forward instead of looking backward.”

  “Have you been talking to my mom?” I asked. That was one of her favorite sayings.

  Aunt Glinda shrugged. “I think she has been rubbing off on me. Anyway, I found an old hamster cage when I was cleaning out my closet this morning. Can you believe it? I haven’t had a hamster since I was about your age!” Suddenly, her eyes got a little misty. “Captain Squeak was such a sweet little guy.”

  I took a step back. Would it be rude to make an excuse and run away before my aunt started crying?

  Luckily the kitchen phone rang at that moment. Aunt Glinda quickly wiped her eyes and answered it in an overly cheerful voice. “Oh, sure!” she said after a second. “She’s right here!” Then she handed me the receiver. “It’s Cassandra.”

  “Tell her I’m not here,” I whispered. For once I was glad that my parents insisted we couldn’t afford to get me a cell phone.

  Aunt Glinda shook her head. “She sounds upset.”

  Huh. Maybe Cassa felt bad about what had happened that afternoon. I finally took the phone. “Hello?”

  “Lexi, I’m so glad you’re there,” Cassa said in a rush. “I don’t know what to do. It’s Marina. I can’t find her anywhere.”

  “Wh-where did she go?”

  “I don’t know. That’s what I’m trying to tell you!” Cassa cried. “She disappeared!”

  “Disappeared?” I repeated. “What do you mean?”

  Cassa let out a sigh of frustration. “After you ran out of the Barn, Marina was saying something to me and then—poof!—she just vanished. I know it sounds insane, and my mom won’t believe me! She keeps saying, ‘I don’t know what game you girls are playing, but I have work to do.’ I’m telling you, Lex, she’s gone!”

  “Wow, okay.”

  “Can you call her for me? Her phone rings but then it sounds like someone picks up and then nothing, just silence.”

  “Oh, I don’t know …” I’d never talked to Marina on the phone before.

  “Please, Lexi? I want to make sure she’s okay. Maybe I should call the police or something!”

  “Whoa, the police?” Cassa wasn’t usually the kind of person to overreact to things. If she was this worried, then I had to help. “Okay, I’ll call her. I’m sure she’s fine.” I wrote down the number Cassa gave me and then gave it a call.

  “Hello?” Marina said after only one ring.

  “Hey, um, it’s Lexi. Cassa wanted me to call you to, um, make sure that—”

  “Is this some kind of joke?” she broke in. “Is it like a prank you pull on the new kids or something?”

  “Huh?”

  “Look, if you didn’t want me hanging out with you guys, just say so. You didn’t have to have Cassa do a whole disappearing act on me.”

  “Disappearing act?”

  “Come on. You were in on it too, weren’t you? One minute I’m standing there with Cassa, and the next minute, she’s gone. Was it like a smoke-and-mirrors thing? And then she keeps calling me and not saying anything? Why? To mess with me?”

  This didn’t make sense. Cassa saying that Marina had disappeared. Marina saying that Cassa had disappeared. Maybe I was the one they were playing a joke on!

  “Well?” Marina demanded. When I didn’t answer, she let out a frustrated groan and added, “Fine! Whatever!” Then she hung up.

  What was going on? My brain felt as though it were coated in burned molasses as the pieces slowly started to fit together.

  Because maybe this wasn’t a joke. Maybe this was something else.

  I’d wished for Cassa and Marina to stop seeing and talking to each other, hadn’t I? Obviously this wasn’t what I’d had in mind, but it had still happened. Which had to mean that my wish had worked. It had really worked!

  A shiver went through me from head to toe. I couldn’t believe it! Maybe some silly shiny stones could bring luck to your life after all.

  In the morning, I woke up in a panic. That always happened when I spent the night somewhere that wasn’t home. My brain would race through all the unfamiliar stuff around me, and for a second, I’d feel as though I were falling through empty space. But then I recognized the flowery bedspread and the ugly seagull paintings on the walls, and I remembered that I was at Aunt Glinda’s house, and I could breathe again.

  As I sat up in the lumpy bed and yawned, my jaw cracked the way it did every morning. My teeth were aching from being clenched so tightly during the night. Even when I was asleep, I guess I was still worrying.

  Right now, most of my worrying had to do with Austin. Luckily, my brother had been his usual goofy self when Aunt Glinda and I had visited him last night. He’d been busy making a tower out of a bunch of little paper cups that he’d convinced the nurses to give him. But he was also clearly in pain and grumpy about having to sleep in a hospital bed. It stabbed at me to think he might have to spend another night there. At least Elijah’s drawing had made him smile.

  Then—in a flash that practically made me jump out of bed—I remem
bered the other big thing that had happened yesterday. My Friendship wish had come true! Okay, maybe it was crazy to assume that the wishing stones had worked. But Cassa and Marina had had some sort of falling-out. That meant things between Cassa and me would be back to normal in no time.

  My body was buzzing with excitement as I hurried to get ready for school. I even found myself humming a little as I pinned my bangs back and pulled my hair into its usual two braids. (Ponytails always gave me a headache, which Dad joked was because my head was screwed on too tight.) But when I went into the kitchen to grab breakfast, I found Aunt Glinda sitting at the table staring out the window. She was still in her pajamas and looked as though she’d been crying.

  “Oh, Lexi,” she said, dabbing at her nose with a tissue. “Good. You’re up.”

  My excitement evaporated. “What’s wrong? Is it Austin?”

  “No, no. Nothing’s wrong. I’m a bit overwhelmed this morning, that’s all. I have the day off from work, and I was going to spend it cleaning the house. But the thought of going through more of my old things is starting to get to me.” She tried to smile. “Do you want some oatmeal? I put prunes in it to sweeten it up.”

  “Um, sure,” I said, afraid turning her down would make her weepy again. This was such a change from the way she’d been yesterday. What happened to all her “no excuses” talk?

  “I’ll go get dressed so I can drive you to school,” Aunt Glinda said.

  “That’s okay. I can walk.” If I left nine minutes earlier than my usual time, I’d get to first period without a problem. But my aunt told me to stop being silly and hurried off to get ready.

  After I’d choked down as much breakfast as I could and brushed my teeth, my aunt still hadn’t come out of her room. So I killed time by organizing the avalanche of plastic bags under her kitchen sink by putting them into an empty tissue box that I found in the recycling bin. It was one of the first “life hacks” I’d done at my house a couple of years ago, before I’d gotten hooked on them.

  “Wow, what’s all this?” Aunt Glinda asked when she came back into the kitchen. She seemed a lot more pulled together now.

  I held up the box, which was stuffed full of plastic bags, before tucking it back under the sink. “That way you can keep them in one place.”

  “Genius!” Aunt Glinda said. “Maybe I should have you organize my entire house.”

  I could tell she was mostly kidding, but honestly that did sound kind of fun. The house could certainly use it. “Maybe next time I’m over, I can put your spices in order,” I offered.

  Aunt Glinda beamed. “Perfect!” She opened the fridge. “Want to take some of the leftover spinach stew for lunch today?”

  “That’s okay!” I said, a little too loudly. “I usually buy lunch.” I felt bad lying, but I’d rather take my chances with cafeteria food. Besides, I hadn’t had time to de-mold my lunch bag yet. There was probably some awesome life hack way of doing it.

  Aunt Glinda looked disappointed that I’d rejected her stew, but she only waved me out to her car. As we sped out of her neighborhood, she turned on some loud music, the kind of classic rock stuff my dad listened to sometimes. I would have thought Aunt Glinda would be more into sad ballads about people watching it rain outside.

  “With any luck, Austin will be home by this afternoon,” she said when we pulled into the school driveway. “But if not, I’ll pick you up right here after school and bring you to the hospital, okay?”

  I smiled. After what had happened between Cassa and Marina, I was starting to think I’d finally stumbled onto some good luck. “Thanks, Aunt Glinda.”

  “No problem, kiddo,” she said. Then she drove away.

  Cassa was waiting for me at my locker. “I almost stopped at the bridge to wait for you, but then I remembered you were coming from your aunt’s house.” She was talking to me, but her eyes were darting all over the hallway.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “Just seeing if Marina’s here. I’m still worried about her.”

  “I told you, she’s fine.” I hadn’t known how to explain about the two of them not being able to see each other. It sounded completely bananas. And even though I hoped that it meant my wish had come true, I couldn’t be sure.

  Cassa shrugged. “It’s so crazy, you know? One minute things seem fine and the next minute they’re not.”

  “Yeah,” I said softly. That’s how things had been feeling between me and Cassa for weeks now.

  At that moment, I spotted Marina walking down the hall. I held my breath, waiting for Cassa to notice her. It was hard not to when she towered over most of the kids around us. But Cassa didn’t. Even though she was looking right at Marina, her expression stayed blank.

  I could tell the minute Marina saw me, though, because her entire face tensed. “Hey, Lexi,” she said, walking right past Cassa without even glancing at her. “So where is she?”

  “Huh?” I asked.

  “Cassa? I figured you two would be standing around, waiting for me so you could laugh in my face.”

  “No,” I said. “It’s not like that.”

  “Not like what?” Cassa asked, giving me a strange look. “What are you talking about?”

  “Um.”

  And then Cassa and Marina were both looking at me expectantly, and it dawned on me, really dawned on me, that there was something seriously bizarre going on. Because even though they were inches apart, the two of them couldn’t hear each other. They couldn’t even see each other!

  I had no idea what to do. Luckily, the first bell rang, so I mumbled an excuse that was aimed at both of them and hurried away.

  Okay, maybe this wishing business was more complicated than I’d realized. But Cassa and Marina weren’t going to be spending every second together anymore, which meant that I would have my best friend back. That was the important thing.

  I got to my first ever lunchtime detention with a tray of slightly gray lasagna clutched in my hands. I expected to see a room of brooding delinquents slumped in their seats, throwing spitballs or carving their initials into their desks. Instead, the kids were sitting in a circle, chatting and munching on their lunches as if this were a free period.

  “Okay, let’s quiet down,” Mrs. Connor said. Huh. I guess she ran the detention. “Before we start today’s discussion, I want us to go around and introduce ourselves since you might not all know one another.”

  Discussion? Was this detention, or had I stumbled into some sort of support group? The kids, a mix of sixth through eighth graders, took turns saying their names and why they were in detention. Most of them had been late or broken some minor rule, but a couple of girls had gotten into a shoving match during lunch. I was afraid to make eye contact with them, in case they decided they wanted to push me around too.

  “Now then,” Mrs. Connor said. “Let’s talk about what you can do to avoid being sent here in the future, all right?” She pointed at me. “Lexi? Do you want to go first?”

  I had no idea what to say besides “I won’t be late again.”

  “Let’s dig deeper than that,” Mrs. Connor said. “How might you avoid this pattern of behavior in the future?”

  Pattern of behavior? Was she serious? I’d been late one time! Suddenly, I wished I’d told her all about Austin. Maybe then she would have let me out of this whole stupid detention thing.

  “Come on, Lexi. This is a safe space where you can work on improving your habits.”

  “I don’t have bad habits,” I blurted out. “I’m always on time. All I do is try to make everything perfect!”

  Mrs. Connor gave me a look of disappointment. “Remember that perfection is impossible,” she said. “But improvement isn’t.”

  I didn’t know what that was supposed to mean. Thankfully, she’d moved on to her next victim. I slumped in my chair and sliced into my lasagna, but my appetite was gone.

  Right before the final bell rang, I heard my name on the loudspeaker again. “Alexandra Block,” the secretary’s
voice said.

  My stomach clenched. It was Austin. It had to be.

  When I got to the office, I expected to have to talk to Mom on the phone again. Instead, Dad was standing there waiting for me. His thinning hair was sticking up funny and his shirt was so wrinkled, it reminded me of used tissue paper.

  “Hey, Lex,” he said, pulling me into a hug. It was good to see him, but he shouldn’t be here yet.

  “I thought Aunt Glinda was picking me up.”

  “I flew in early. And boy, are my arms tired!” He gave me a goofy, openmouthed grin.

  “Dad!” I said with a groan. If he was making his usual lame jokes, maybe things weren’t so bad. But clearly something was wrong. “No really, why are you here?”

  His grin faded. “I don’t want you to worry,” he said slowly, as if putting off telling me the bad news. “Your brother is going to be fine. But they’re taking him into surgery today.”

  “But he’s not supposed to have another operation for months!”

  “The doctors have decided this is the best strategy right now.”

  Emergency surgery. We’d gone through this before, when Austin was first born and a couple of times since. He’d stay in the hospital for days and days after an operation, recovering, and everyone would always say things would be okay, fine, great, but that never made me worry less. Now it was happening yet again. No matter what I did, no matter how much good I tried to put on one side of the cosmic scale, it never seemed to balance out the bad.

  But this time, maybe there was something more I could do.

  “Can we stop at the Antique Barn on the way to the hospital? There’s something I need to pick up.”

  Dad looked surprised, but he didn’t object. I guess he was used to my odd requests by now.

  When I opened the car door, empty fast-food bags spilled out of the front seat. “Just toss them in the back,” Dad said, looking a little sheepish.

  As I added them to the pile of trash next to Austin’s car seat, I couldn’t help remembering how clean Dad’s car used to be. Mom would make fun of him for taking better care of it than of our house. But that was before Austin was born and Dad had to take on extra business trips to help pay the hospital bills. He’d practically been living in cars and planes and hotel rooms ever since.