Secondhand Wishes

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Secondhand Wishes Page 5

by Anna Staniszewski


  “I know. It sounds so cool.”

  But that wasn’t what I meant. I thought Cassa and I told each other everything. But clearly, that wasn’t true. Not anymore.

  The math test was going great until Mrs. Connor noticed that I was chewing gum.

  “Lexi? We have a ‘no gum’ policy in this school, remember?” she said softly since the other kids were still working away on their tests.

  “Oh, sorry,” I whispered. “I just … I need it.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked. I could tell by the look on her face that she wouldn’t accept anything but the truth.

  “I watched a video that said if you chewed the same flavor gum while you were studying and when you were taking the test, you were guaranteed to do better, and I really want to do well on this!” I thought I’d been sneaky with my piece of juicy watermelon, but Mrs. Connor must have had super sight or smell or something. “I’ll spit it out right after the test is over, I promise.”

  But Mrs. Connor wasn’t having it. “Now, please.”

  “I can’t,” I told her. “As soon as I’m done with the test.”

  “You’ll get rid of it now,” she said, her voice growing louder. No one was working on the test anymore. They were all staring at me.

  The taste of watermelon was suddenly sour in my mouth. What choice did I have? I got up and spit the gum out in the front of the class. Then I went back to finish my test, telling myself that it was fine. I’d still get a good grade. Austin would be okay.

  At the end of class, Mrs. Connor waved me up to her desk and handed me a detention slip. My mouth dropped open. “What’s this for?” I asked.

  “I’m sorry, Lexi, but you were breaking the rules again. I’m surprised at you. You’ve been such a conscientious student so far this year.”

  I couldn’t believe it. “But it was only gum! And I did it because—”

  “Even if you had a good reason, the rules are the rules. I’m sorry.” She gave me a sad smile. “Lunch detention again today, okay?”

  I could only nod as I took the detention slip. “Is there any way you could grade the test now?” I asked. Otherwise I’d drive myself nuts wondering how I’d done on it.

  She pulled my paper out of the pile and then hunched over it with a green pen. I bounced on my toes as I waited, crossing and uncrossing my fingers. Finally, Mrs. Connor looked up and smiled. “A ninety-six. Nice job.”

  It wasn’t a perfect grade, but it was a really good one. Finally, I was making up some of the ground I’d lost with my previous quizzes. “Thanks,” I said with a relieved sigh.

  “I appreciate how hard you’ve been working. You’ve improved a lot in the past few weeks.”

  “I’m usually good at math,” I said. “You do things differently than I’m used to.”

  Her smile widened. “We need to keep our minds adaptable, don’t we? Math is so much more than numbers.”

  That reminded me of what she’d said the other day about improvement versus perfection. It sounded nice, but what good would it do if my math skills improved but Austin got worse again?

  As I left the room, I practically walked into a flyer for the dance club audition. Someone had taped it to the doorframe and it brushed against my cheek as I passed by. I’d been trying to forget all about the audition, but the universe kept smacking me in the face with reminders. Maybe that meant I was supposed to listen.

  When I got to lunchtime detention, it was mostly the same kids as last time, almost like it was a club that met every day. A club I definitely didn’t want to be part of for any longer than necessary.

  I plopped down in the nearest desk and was surprised to see Felix sitting in the corner, his feet up on the chair in front of him. He’d always seemed so good at flying under the radar and not getting in trouble. How had he wound up here?

  “Let’s get started,” Mrs. Connor said. I was afraid she’d force us to talk about our “patterns of behavior” again, but today she put us in pairs and asked us to chat with each other. “I want you to dig deeper about why you’re really here,” she instructed.

  I was actually kind of glad when she put me with Felix. That way I could ask him about putting aside a few more four-leaf clovers for me before he ran out.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, going to sit in the desk next to his.

  Felix smiled his innocent little smile. “The vice principal found out about my little side business.”

  I gasped. “Does that mean you won’t be doing it anymore?”

  “Relax,” Felix said. “It just means I can’t sell anything on school property. I’ll set up shop on the other side of the school fence, that’s all.”

  Phew. “Good, because I need to buy some more.”

  “Already?” he asked. “Not that I’m complaining, but that’s a lot more than usual.”

  “I need the luck, that’s all,” I said. “Things have been kind of … complicated lately.”

  Felix thought for a second. Then he leaned in and said in a low voice, “Look, I probably shouldn’t be saying this because it’s bad for business, but maybe you’re taking this whole luck thing a little too seriously.”

  “What do you mean?” How else was I supposed to take it? Especially when I’d literally stumbled across some lucky wishing stones?

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe instead of handing all your money over to me, you could figure out how to make your own luck.”

  Right. Easy for Felix to say when he had an uncanny ability to find four-leaf clovers wherever he went.

  “I didn’t think kids like you even knew how to get a detention,” Felix added when I didn’t say anything .

  I slumped in my seat. “I’m suddenly really good at getting in trouble.” Ever since the day I’d found the wishing stones, in fact. Yes, I’d only gotten two detentions, but that was two more than I’d gotten in my entire life! Almost as if the universe were trying to even itself out.

  I’d expected Marina never to speak to me again, so I was surprised to find her marching up to my locker before last period.

  “Have you seen Cassa? She hasn’t been in school.”

  “Um … yeah. She’s fine,” I said. Then I couldn’t help adding, “I thought you weren’t talking to her anymore.”

  “I wish,” Marina said. “But we’re supposed to be working on a social studies project together. It’s due next week.”

  I sucked in a breath. The time capsule project. I’d forgotten all about it. How was Cassa supposed to get it done when she and her partner couldn’t even see each other?

  “Oh, um,” I said. “I’ll tell her you were asking about it.”

  Marina sighed. “Okay. Thanks, I guess.” For a second, it almost looked as though there were tears in her eyes. But then she threw her shoulders back and stomped away.

  After last period, Cassa was waiting for me at our usual bench. “Sorry, I’m not walking home today,” I said. “I have to go to my aunt’s house and wait for my dad.”

  “That’s okay. I just came to tell you that I’m staying after for journalism club.” There was something off about Cassa’s voice, as if she were miles away.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  She groaned. “Marina and I are supposed to be working on our time capsule project together, but I haven’t seen her! Our class went to the library to work on it today, and I had to do a bunch of research by myself. There’s no way I’ll get through it all on my own in time. And we were supposed to meet tonight to work on it, but I can’t even get ahold of her!”

  As if I didn’t already feel bad enough that my wish had stressed Cassa out. I couldn’t have her failing her project because of something I did.

  “Give her some time,” I said. “I’m sure you’ll hear from her soon.” Maybe I could do some of the research and give it to Cassa and pretend it came from Marina? And then I’d have to give Cassa’s research to Marina too. Ugh. This was starting to get more and more complicated.

  “Really?” Ca
ssa frowned at me. “Since when are you laid-back about anything? I figured you’d be telling me to call the FBI.”

  She was right. I wasn’t acting like my usual self. “I just … I understand why you’re worried,” I said, “but I’m sure the project will be fine. You still have time to figure it out.”

  “That’s true.” Cassa smiled. “Thanks, Lexi. I don’t know where this more relaxed version of you came from, but I like it.”

  “Um, thanks,” I said, but it didn’t feel like a compliment.

  As I headed to Aunt Glinda’s house, I was actually kind of excited about being there this time. I could focus on organizing my aunt’s kitchen while I waited for Dad to pick me up and bring me to the hospital. That was bound to make me feel better, and the house could definitely use it.

  “Look!” Aunt Glinda said when I went inside. “I got mini mason jars like you told me to, and some chalkboard labels.”

  The labels weren’t the exact right size, but they’d do the job. We got to work emptying the spices into the jars and then carefully labeling them with chalk. Once we had them all lined up on the shelf alphabetically, they looked great.

  “I hope I’ll be able to keep them this neat!” my aunt said.

  “You will,” I reassured her, and I made a mental note to check the spices next time I came by.

  “This is actually kind of fun,” Aunt Glinda said. “What’s next?”

  “Hmm.” I scanned the overwhelming collage of papers stuck to the fridge and the stacks of dusty cookbooks blocking the basement door. Then I glanced at all the pots and pans and Tupperware containers that were practically bursting out of the cupboards. That should be an easy next project. “Any chance you have some magazine holders?” I asked.

  My aunt gave me a blank look. “What’s a magazine holder?”

  “Hmm, what about some small bins?”

  She thought for a second. “I have some old shoeboxes. Will those work?”

  Probably not. “How about we start by weeding out the pans and containers you don’t use anymore, and then we can figure out how to store the rest.”

  “Sounds good!” Aunt Glinda said. “Cleaning is much easier when you don’t have to do it yourself.”

  Normally, I disagreed. I preferred to do things alone so that I could do them my way, but it was nice that Aunt Glinda was getting so into it. At this rate, we’d get the house back in shape in no time.

  When I said that to Aunt Glinda, she laughed. “Honestly, I’m not sure the house was ever ‘in shape.’ Grandma Jean loved acquiring things. She’d keep them all neatly stacked everywhere, but she liked the comfort of having her things all around her.” She sighed. “After she passed away, I tried to keep the house the way she had it, but it turns out I’m no good at being a neat freak. I think your mom got that gene. I just got the gene that makes it hard for me to let go of things.”

  “Huh. I think maybe I got both of them,” I said. But without the “acquiring things” part.

  Aunt Glinda patted my shoulder. “You even smile like your grandmother sometimes. And did you know that she loved to dance too?”

  “Wow, really?” I said. Then, realizing I’d sounded too eager, I added, “I never said I liked to dance.” But I could tell my aunt wasn’t fooled.

  As we went back to sorting through endless pots and pans, I suddenly couldn’t stop thinking about the dance club auditions. The club advisor, Miss Flores, had posted a video of the steps online. I’d memorized them the night before, but I hadn’t had a chance to run through them over and over until they were perfect. Since the audition was on Monday, I was running out of time.

  Finally, I couldn’t stand it anymore. I told Aunt Glinda to keep sorting while I went to catch up on some homework. Then I locked myself in the guest room where she wouldn’t see. I put music on and did the steps slowly at first, getting each one perfect. Then I did them faster and faster, until my body was moving without my brain having to tell it what to do. That was the best feeling, just moving and dancing and being part of the music. Not worrying or planning or even thinking. It was heaven.

  Then I heard knocking. I quickly turned the music off and opened the door.

  “Practicing?” Aunt Glinda asked. She was smiling in triumph.

  “Um, maybe.” I didn’t want her getting her hopes up about the audition since there was a very good chance I’d chicken out again.

  “Your friend is here,” she said.

  “Cassa?” Maybe she’d changed her mind about going to the journalism club.

  “No, that boy. Eli or something? I’ve seen him riding his skateboard around the neighborhood.”

  “Oh, Elijah.” What was he doing here?

  I found him perched on the front porch, sketching a wolf face on the left knee of his jeans with a Sharpie. “Hey,” he said when he saw me. “What’s up?” I saw a flash of gum in his mouth that was as blue as his glasses.

  “How did you know I was going to be here today?” I asked.

  “I live right over there,” he said, pointing past some trees. “I saw you walking this way. Is that your aunt?”

  I nodded.

  “There used to be this crazy old lady who lived here,” he said. “She never talked to anyone and one time I saw her sitting in the middle of the lawn, cutting it with scissors.”

  “That was my grandmother,” I said flatly. “She wasn’t crazy. She was just … particular.”

  Elijah laughed. “Ah, so that’s where you get it from.”

  There was something about his laugh that made my annoyance disappear. Because let’s face it, the more I found out about my grandmother, the more I realized that she and I were the same brand of odd. But Elijah didn’t seem to mind.

  He blew a big blue bubble and then said, “So listen, I was thinking you could help me with my hospital project.”

  “But I can’t draw.”

  “That’s okay. It’s figuring out what to say in the cards that’s the hard part. I thought you might know what sick kids want to hear. Like if anything will actually make them feel better.”

  “I don’t know. Austin just liked that someone was thinking of him. It doesn’t really matter what you write.”

  “Oh,” he said, sounding genuinely disappointed. Huh. Did he really want my help that badly?

  “But I can try to come up with something, if you want,” I found myself saying.

  His face instantly lit up. “Cool. Want to work on it now?”

  “I can’t. My dad’s picking me up soon.”

  “How about tomorrow?”

  “I’m going to visit Austin during the day, and then Cassa and I usually hang out on Saturday nights.” It would finally be the two of us again. I couldn’t wait.

  “I forgot,” Elijah said. “You and Cassa are like twins, right?”

  “I mean, we don’t do everything together.” Not anymore, anyway. “But yeah, we’re best friends.”

  Elijah nodded, but he looked disappointed again. Maybe he was wishing he had a best friend too. Come to think of it, I couldn’t remember Elijah having any close friends. He’d had a group of kids he’d hung out with when he still went to my school, but I never saw him with any one person. Maybe, like with everything else, he didn’t worry about it.

  “I’m around on Sunday afternoon if you want to work on the cards then,” I offered.

  Elijah beamed. “Sure!”

  I expected him to ride away on his skateboard, but instead he plopped down next to me on the porch steps and said, “So what do you want to do until your dad comes?”

  Um, okay. I guess we were hanging out now.

  “I don’t know.” I was itching to go back to practicing the dance routine, but it would be rude to blow him off. Plus, I liked being around Elijah. He seemed so relaxed all the time that I didn’t worry so much when I was with him.

  “Do your toes ever stop tapping?” he asked with a laugh.

  I glanced down and realized that my feet were moving on their own. “Yes,” I said. �
��I just … I have a song stuck in my head.”

  “What song?”

  “You probably wouldn’t know it. It’s from a musical, for this audition I’m thinking of doing at school.”

  Of course, once I said that, Elijah wouldn’t let it go until I told him about the audition. How did he get me to open up to him like that?

  “Okay, Block. Let’s see some of your moves,” Elijah said, leaning back on the steps.

  “Nope! No way.”

  “If you’re going to dance in public, you need to practice, don’t you?”

  “And what? You’re going to coach me? Are you a dance expert or something?”

  He shrugged. “No, but dancing is like skateboarding. You do a move a bunch of times until you get it right. So let’s see what you’ve got.”

  That was true. Still, I wasn’t going to dance in front of him, no matter how at ease I felt around him, so I shook my head.

  “Okay, then,” he said, getting to his feet. “You tell me the moves and I’ll do them.”

  “Um, what?”

  “It’ll be fun, like reverse practicing. If you know the steps, then you should be able to describe how to do them, and I’ll try to follow your instructions. ”

  “If you really want to, sure.” To my surprise, he nodded eagerly. Wow. He was actually serious. All right. I supposed any type of practice would be good. “Well … the first one is shuffle to the left, shimmy, and spin.”

  Elijah scrunched up his face. “What’s that mean?”

  “You know, a shuffle,” I said. But he still looked clueless. I tried to explain how to do it, but when he followed what I said, he only looked like a dizzy zombie.

  I groaned and got to my feet. “Like this!” I said, giving him the tiniest of demonstrations.

  “Oh, okay.” He did it, and it actually looked pretty good. “And then what? A shinny? Like you climb something?”

  “No, a shimmy. You know, where you kind of shake your shoulders.”

  He moved his shoulders up and down in the most ridiculous way.

  “No!” I said, laughing. “Like this!” I gave him another demonstration. And then I realized: He’d tricked me! He was making me dance. But the weird thing was, I actually didn’t mind.

 

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