“And now a spin,” I added. “Like this.” I did my most dramatic twirl and glanced over at Elijah, who was standing back looking impressed.
“Not bad, Block,” he said. “You really know what you’re doing.”
My cheeks were hot and I was kind of mortified that I’d actually let Elijah see me dance, but I had to admit it was nice to know that I wasn’t completely terrible.
I might have even shown him a few more steps if my dad’s car hadn’t pulled up just then.
“Oops, gotta go,” I said.
“All right,” Elijah said. “But you’re not getting out of this that easily. You’ll have to show me the routine another time.”
“Maybe,” I said with a laugh. “If you’re lucky.”
Normally, on Saturday mornings, I would do homework and watch life hack videos or—when no one else was home—choreograph dances to my favorite songs. But that morning, it was back to the hospital. The place was starting to feel like a second home but definitely not in a good way.
The minute Dad and I stepped into my brother’s room, though, Mom announced that Austin had a clean bill of health. All we needed to do was wait for his discharge papers, and we could go home.
“No one can believe it,” Mom said. “The doctors thought about keeping him for one more day, just to be on the safe side … but I mean, look at him!”
Austin was darting around the tiny room, pretending to use an imaginary grappling hook Batman-style. He’d been almost back to his old self when we’d visited the day before, but this was unbelievable. He didn’t look as though he’d ever been sick.
“Careful,” Mom called as Austin tried to jump onto a chair. “You don’t want to rip your stitches.” But her voice wasn’t all high-pitched anymore, and she went back to chatting with Dad instead of lasering in on Austin’s every move with worried eyes.
Soon, we were all piling into the car and heading home. I kept sneaking glances at Austin, trying to see if he was glowing or anything because of my wish. But he looked normal. No too-pale face. No bloated stomach. No complaints that he wasn’t feeling well. He was just Austin.
When we got home, Austin instantly asked for some celery sticks, which made my mom beam. Normally, it was a challenge to get him to eat anything that didn’t come in a wrapper.
He chomped into a piece of celery and asked, “Can I go play in the yard?”
My parents exchanged uneasy looks. I could tell they were feeling the same way I was: relieved to see Austin acting so full of energy, but worried that something would happen and we’d wind up right back in the hospital.
“Only for a few minutes,” Mom said.
“Then we’ll set you up on the couch for the afternoon, and you can watch some movies. Okay, Bug?” Dad added.
Austin didn’t seem thrilled about having to rest more after spending the past few days in bed, but he nodded and ran to the back door, waiting to be let out like an impatient puppy.
“Can you go keep an eye on him, Lexi?” Mom asked. “Your dad and I have some things to sort out.”
By “things” I knew she meant bills. My parents always tried to send me out of earshot when it was time to argue about money.
When we went outside, I expected Austin to head over to his favorite spot by the fence where Batman was always climbing up to save a variety of action figures. But this time, Austin went over to the recycling bin and pulled out some newspapers.
He carried the stack over to the sandbox that he barely used anymore, then pulled off the cover and spread the newspapers all over the sand.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Playing.”
I perched on one of the swings and watched him arranging and rearranging the papers, as if he were trying to put them into some kind of order. It wasn’t his usual kind of game, but Austin’s imagination was always going. You never knew what he’d think of next.
After a minute, when Austin was so busy that he wasn’t even looking in my direction, I checked to make sure my parents couldn’t see me out the window. Then I started practicing my dance routine.
I was whirling and twirling, counting the steps and humming the music to myself, when I suddenly heard my parents’ voices coming from the kitchen. A lot louder than usual.
I stopped dancing and strained to hear. Something about “not enough in the account,” which had to mean money.
“We haven’t even paid off the bills from last time,” Mom said.
And then Dad, who was usually so laid-back about everything, replied, “I don’t know how much longer we can keep going like this.”
It was about Austin, of course. It always was. Just a second ago my head had been spinning with the joy of dancing, but now I only felt dizzy. I wished there was something I could do. Why couldn’t I have found those stones earlier? I glanced at Austin, who was now shredding the newspaper into long strips, smiling the whole time.
He was finally healthy. Everything else would work itself out. It had to.
On Saturday nights, Cassa and I would usually hang out in her basement. But when Dad dropped me off at her house, her mom waved me through the almost-remodeled kitchen, which still needed a few cabinet doors, and sent me upstairs instead. Cassa was on her bed, scrolling through what looked like newspaper articles on her laptop.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Oh, nothing,” she said absently. Then she glanced at the papers tucked awkwardly under my arm. “What’s that?”
“Um, Marina gave me some of her research to give you for your project.”
“Really?” Cassa grabbed the papers and started scanning through them. I’d spent hours the night before looking up everything I could about the 1960s and writing down what I thought should go in the time capsule. I thought I’d done a pretty good job until Cassa tossed the papers on the floor and cried, “I can’t believe it. Does she want us to fail?”
“Huh?”
“Who cares about 1960s America? We’re supposed to be focusing on England!”
I stared at her. Had I done all that work for nothing?
“When did she give you these?” Cassa asked. “When did you see her?”
“I didn’t. She dropped them off at my house yesterday. She left them on our doorstep.” Yes, it was a lie, but at least it was less of a lie than saying that I had actually spoken to Marina.
“I knew it!” Cassa cried. “There’s something strange going on.” Then she turned back to the laptop. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to file a missing persons report.”
“Like with the police?”
“Yes!” Cassa whirled around. Her eyes looked a little wild. “I know you said I shouldn’t worry, but something happened to Marina. I just know it! You should have seen how weird her mom was acting when I went over there this morning.”
“Wait, you talked to her mom? What happened?”
“Marina wasn’t home! And she hasn’t been in school for days. When I asked her mom about it, she acted like she had no idea what I was talking about. Then she started talking to someone, even though there was no one there. I think she’s crazy, Lexi. I bet she locked Marina up in the basement or sold her to the circus or something!”
“Sold her to the circus?” I repeated.
“Look at this article!” Cassa cried, pointing to the laptop. “Some girl disappeared, and months later the police found her doing the high dive in a circus act.”
I strained to read over her shoulder. “That article also looks like it was from about a hundred years ago. I don’t even think circuses do high dive acts anymore.”
But Cassa wasn’t listening. “I know how this all sounds! But something happened to Marina. Maybe something bad! Not only are we going to fail our social studies project but I might never see her again!”
Okay, I had to tell her the truth. Even though she’d hate me. Even though it might mess up the wish. I couldn’t have my best friend thinking that Marina had been murdered or something!
“T
his is my fault,” I said.
“No, it’s not,” Cassa said. “I mean, you haven’t exactly been friendly to Marina, but there’s something else going on.”
“I know. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.” I had to just blurt it out. All of it. “I found some wishing stones at the antique shop, and I made a wish, and I wished that you and Marina would stop being friends, only I worded it wrong, and now you guys can’t see each other, and I’m really sorry, and I didn’t know it would mess up your social studies project or make you so upset and stuff.”
I stopped talking and sucked in a breath, realizing that I’d spilled it all so fast, there was a chance Cassa hadn’t even been able to understand me.
She stared at me for a long minute. And then she closed her eyes. “Just … stop it, Lexi.”
“What do you mean?”
She opened her eyes again, and they were suddenly angry slits. “I can’t believe you’d make fun of me when I’m freaking out.”
“Make fun of you? What are you talking about?”
“Look, I know you don’t believe in any of that magic stuff that I’m always talking about, but you don’t have to make a joke of it. I get it. You don’t like Marina.”
“Th-that’s not what I’m saying!” I cried.
But Cassa only shook her head and said, “Maybe you should go so I can work on my project. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
I guess I didn’t have a choice. I went downstairs and called my mom to pick me up. Then I waited in the semi-chaotic kitchen by myself, surrounded by a mess of tools and boxes and tarps. I was so busy trying not to cry that I didn’t even have the urge to organize them.
Sunday morning was a blur of catching up on homework, nervously watching Austin every second to make sure he was okay, and trying to forget the scene with Cassa the night before. I was actually relieved when it was time to head over to Elijah’s house in the afternoon to work on cards for the kids at the hospital.
My mom was more than happy to give me a ride. I could tell she was excited that I was hanging out with someone new. As we drove through Elijah’s neighborhood, Mom smiled to herself.
“It’s funny that I grew up around here and now I almost never go to this part of town.” She pointed across the street. “I remember I used to hide in those bushes over there.”
“You, hiding?” I asked. That didn’t sound like her.
“I think I was in there planning how I would take over the world. I was going to become a doctor and travel everywhere and lead an exciting life.”
“So why didn’t you?”
“Oh, priorities change. I met your father and we wanted to start a family. It made more sense for me to go work for a drug company than to go to medical school. And then after you were born and we started trying to have a second baby, well, that became the main focus.” After Austin had been born, Mom had quit her full-time job and started working part-time at a clothing store, which had a lot more flexible hours but also paid a lot less.
“I don’t regret any of it,” Mom quickly added. “Family is the most important thing.”
And yet, Mom barely hung out with her sister. I’d never really thought about that before, not until I’d started spending more time with my aunt. “Mom, why do we never see Aunt Glinda?”
She blinked at me in surprise. “You were just at her house.”
“No, I mean all of us. Why do we only do holidays together?”
Mom thought for a minute. “I suppose … well, it’s no secret that Glinda and I have never been very alike. I’ve always been focused on the next big thing in my life. Your aunt is … she’s not like that. She lives in the past.”
“But it makes her sad,” I said, remembering how I’d found her crying at her kitchen table the other day.
“I think sometimes it’s easy to feel that life has left you behind, you know? My sister has always done the safe thing: staying at the same job, not moving away from home, avoiding meeting new people. And everything around her has changed.”
When I thought about it like that, no wonder my aunt seemed so emotional all the time. Maybe wanting to get rid of the clutter in her house meant she was finally ready to change too.
We pulled up to Elijah’s house, and I hopped out. I told myself there was no reason to be nervous, but there was an unpleasant jumpy feeling in my stomach.
“Have fun!” Mom called with a knowing smile.
“Hey, come in,” Elijah said when I knocked on the door, as if I came over all the time. As if we’d been friends forever. The nerves I’d been feeling started to melt away.
“Wait,” I said, pausing dramatically at the door. “You’re not going to trick me into dancing again, are you?”
He snorted. “No. But maybe one of these days I’ll find a way to get you on a skateboard.” He waved me through the house, putting his finger to his lips. “Mama Ann’s working in her studio upstairs. We have to be quiet until she comes down.”
“Is she an artist like you?” I whispered.
“She makes jewelry. She’s really good. People buy tons of her stuff online.”
I couldn’t help thinking of the beaded necklaces Marina was always making and how much she’d love to meet a real jewelry designer. Maybe if things ever calmed down, I could introduce the two of them or something. Then again, Marina would probably turn around and try to steal Elijah from me too.
We went outside and crossed the backyard, and then we came to a small yellow shed. Elijah opened the door, and I gasped at the little artist studio inside.
“Is this yours?” I asked.
“Yup,” he said. “I set it up last year. It gets pretty cold in the winter, but otherwise it’s awesome.” He pointed me to an old metal folding chair, and I plopped down, admiring the sketches all over the walls. Instead of a drawing table, Elijah had a couple of sawhorses with a plank of wood on top, and there were plastic milk crates instead of shelves. Coffee mugs crammed with pencils and brushes and tubes of paint were scattered all around. The place was messy and colorful and chaotic. I wasn’t sure I could stand to be in here for hours on end, but it was perfect for Elijah.
He handed me a few of the drawings he’d made and I got to work coming up with messages to write on them. It was surprising how comfortable I was around him considering we barely knew each other. Even when we’d gone to school together, we hadn’t talked much. He’d been the quiet kid in the back of the room who was always scribbling in a sketchbook. He was still kind of quiet, but in a good way.
“How’s your brother doing?” he asked after a while.
“Good,” I said, and it was strange to say it and actually mean it. “He’s recovering a lot faster than anyone thought he would. And he’s gotten really into crunching on veggies, for some reason. Cucumbers and carrots and even broccoli! My parents think it’s an extreme reaction to eating hospital food for so long.”
Elijah laughed. “He’s a lucky kid.”
“Lucky? Are you serious? He’s had nothing but bad luck since he was born. It’s like all I can do to try to make up for it.”
“No, I mean he’s lucky to have you looking out for him.” He gave me a curious look. “What do you mean you’ve been trying to make up for it?”
“I … I have a deal with the universe,” I said. And then, even though I knew he wouldn’t understand, I went ahead and told him about my balance theory.
“Huh,” he said when I was done. “Cool.”
“You’re not going to laugh at me? Or tell me I’m a weirdo?”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because … because people never understand. They think I’m crazy for doing all that stuff to help Austin.”
“It makes you feel better to do it, right?” he asked.
“Yeah, I guess. At least it made makes me feel like I can do something instead of waiting around and hoping things will work out.” Maybe Felix could do that when he was sitting on a mound of four-leaf clovers, but it was definitely not my style.
> “Then who cares what anyone else thinks?” Elijah asked.
And that was the end of the conversation. I didn’t have to burn with shame the way I had with Marina.
“Hey, can you hand me the cerulean?” Elijah asked after a minute.
I stared at him. “The what?”
He pointed to one of the colored pencils. “That one.”
“You mean the blue?”
“Yeah, I guess you can call it that.” He laughed as I passed it to him. “It’s more of an azure anyway.”
I rolled my eyes. “If you say so.”
As we kept working, I felt myself relaxing, really relaxing, for the first time in what felt like forever. When it was time to leave, I was kind of bummed to go. Especially when I got into Mom’s car and I could tell by the way she kept clicking her tongue and shaking her head as she drove that her mind was far away.
“How’s Austin doing?” I asked, because that’s how most of our conversations started these days.
She blinked. “Oh, he’s great. He spent all afternoon working on some ‘top secret project’ in his room, which involved a lot of construction paper. And he found some old sippy cup from when he was a baby and started drinking water from it.”
“A sippy cup?”
Mom shook her head. “I don’t ask. As long as he’s staying hydrated, I’m happy.”
As we pulled into our driveway, Mom’s phone rang. I could tell by the way her mouth pulled down at the edges when she answered it that it wasn’t good news. “We’re working on it,” she told the person on the other end. “We’ll figure out another payment plan.”
My stomach clenched back into its usual fist. Money again. It always came back to that. Even though having Austin healthy should have made all our lives perfect, they weren’t. It wasn’t fair. Even with supposedly magical wishing stones, things still weren’t right!
When we got inside, I went up to my room to look at the stones again. I’d already used the Health and Friendship ones. That left Success and Family. I wondered if I should use them to make wishes about my family succeeding in winning the lottery or something—but then I thought of the mess with Cassa and Marina. Maybe it would be best not to use them at all, at least for now.
Secondhand Wishes Page 6