When I put the stone back in my pocket, there was no tingly feeling or sudden calm. There was no zing or zap or pop. But somehow, I knew it had worked.
“Lexi?” Miss Flores called again.
“I’m coming!” I said and hurried up to join everyone else. It was only when I was waiting for the music to start that I realized I could have run for the door instead. I didn’t have to do this.
But I wanted to. And this time, I wasn’t going to chicken out.
So when the music started, and Miss Flores counted down, I tried to forget all the dozens of worries swirling around in my head. All the stuff that could go wrong. Instead, I focused on the one thing I could control: letting myself have fun. After a few twirls, I actually did. I spun and kicked and step-ball-changed.
When it was done, I felt so much lighter. I felt free.
“Thanks, everyone!” Miss Flores called. “I’ll post the list tomorrow.”
Afterward Miss Flores came up to me. “Great job up there, Lexi,” she said. “It was nice to see you enjoying yourself.”
I smiled. Because she was right. For a few minutes, at least, I’d just let things be.
When I got home, Austin was curled up on the couch in front of the TV. Some cartoons were on, but he didn’t seem to be watching. He was tearing a piece of construction paper into strips.
“How are you doing, buddy?” I asked, suddenly afraid that I’d been wrong about my wish working.
Then he blinked and glanced up at me. Instead of squeaking or twitching his nose, he smiled. “Okay,” he said. Then he grabbed a comic book off the table and asked, “Can you read to Batman with me?”
“Sure,” I said, settling on the couch next to him.
He burrowed into my shoulder and mumbled, “LoveyouLexi.”
That’s how I knew he was really okay.
When Mom and I pulled up in front of Elijah’s house after dinner, I sat in the car for a minute, afraid to get out.
“Honey?” Mom asked. “Do you want me to stick around while you go talk to him?” I hadn’t told her the details, of course, but I’d explained that Elijah and I had kind of had a fight and that I needed to see if things were okay between us.
“Um, yeah,” I said. “That would be nice.”
She smiled. “How about I go over to Aunt Glinda’s and you meet me there when you’re done, okay?”
“I don’t think she’s home,” I said. “The lights were off when we drove by.”
Mom laughed. “Of course she’s home. She’s always home. And if not, I have a key.” She patted my knee. “Okay, off you go.”
I thanked her and got out of the car. I heard music coming from the backyard, so instead of going to the front of the house, I went around and knocked on the shed door. After a long minute, it swung open.
At the sight of me, Elijah flashed an uncertain smile. “Oh, hey,” he said. “You’re Lexi, right? What are you doing here?”
Something inside me sank. “Um, I wanted to see, um …” But it was obvious he didn’t remember me, not really. And why would he? If I undid the wish, then he only thought of me as some girl in his class way back when he still went to school. Not someone he was actually kind of friends with now. Someone he’d helped more than he’d ever know.
I blinked back tears. “Sorry, I should go.”
I turned to leave, but Elijah called out, “Wait!” When I glanced back, I saw he was holding a couple of the cards we’d made for the kids at the hospital. “These are signed by both of us. Did we work on them together or something?” He laughed and rubbed at a smudge of blue paint on his hand. “It’s weird. For some reason, I don’t remember.”
The tight feeling in my chest eased a little. Maybe the wish hadn’t undone everything.
“It was your idea. I just helped.”
“These are pretty good. Maybe we can make some more sometime.”
“Sure! That would be fun!” I said. Maybe I sounded a little too eager, but I didn’t care.
“Good.” He flashed me a big grin. “Then my parents can finally stop bugging me about making some friends.”
I coughed in surprise. “I didn’t know you cared about that kind of stuff.”
Elijah shrugged. “I mean, I don’t let it get to me or anything, but it would be nice to have someone to hang out with, you know?”
I smiled. “Yeah. I do.”
Suddenly, a familiar laugh rang out from the house. I turned to see a woman who I assumed was Mama Dee coming out onto the back deck. Right behind her, carrying a plate of cookies, was Aunt Glinda!
“Whoa! What’s my aunt doing here?” I asked.
“That lady’s your aunt?” Elijah asked. “It’s so weird. She showed up at our door today and my mom freaked out and started hugging her and crying. It turns out they were best friends when they were our age but they haven’t seen each other since. Isn’t that nuts? All this time they’d been living down the street from each other and they had no idea. It’s like magic or something.”
I had to laugh. “Maybe,” I said. “Or maybe the universe knows what it’s doing sometimes.”
In the morning, my house was full of chaos the way it normally was. But it was the right kind of chaos. Dad was attempting to get Austin to brush his teeth before preschool while Mom gulped down some coffee before her first day at her new job.
“Remember to head to Aunt Glinda’s after school today,” Mom reminded me. “I’ll pick you up after work. And thanks for being so flexible about all of this. I know you like things a certain way.”
“I did,” I said. “I do. But I’m trying to relax a little. Actually, I think Aunt Glinda and I might take a cooking class together.”
Mom looked at me in surprise, but I could tell she was excited at the idea of both my aunt and me trying something new. Surprisingly, I was excited too.
“Oh, and we should do another family dinner on Friday,” I added.
“Good idea,” Dad said, donning his cheesy grin. “We should make it a potluck. You bring the food and I’ll bring my appetite.”
“It’ll be good for us to spend more time together,” Mom said. “Hanging out in hospital rooms isn’t exactly quality time.”
“Can Batman cook something?” Austin asked.
“Um, sure,” I said. “What about bat stew?”
Austin giggled. “Bat juice!”
I tickled his belly and couldn’t help making sure it didn’t seem swollen. But it looked fine. He looked fine. And he really was this time. Maybe there was nothing I could do to make sure he stayed that way, but it wasn’t up to me. If he got sick again, we’d figure it out, like we always had.
Cassa was waiting for me at the footbridge before school, like normal. But this didn’t feel like a normal day. It felt abnormal, different, and exciting.
When we got to the fence at the edge of the school grounds, I was surprised to see Felix leaning against it with a box under his arm.
“Hey, Lexi,” he said. “I heard about your dance audition. How about one of these for luck?” He opened the box, revealing a dozen rabbit’s feet. “Since you’re my best customer, I’ll give you one for free.”
I should have just kept walking, but I couldn’t help asking, “Are they real?”
Felix shrugged. “Does it matter? If you think they’ll work, then they probably will.”
But I didn’t need any more fake luck or secondhand wishes. Last night, I’d hidden the stones in the back of my closet, where I hoped they’d stay forever. Maybe I’d never totally let go of my deal with the universe, but that didn’t mean I had to let it control my entire life.
“Thanks,” I said. “I think I’m good.”
I expected Felix to look disappointed, but instead he nodded approvingly and said, “Good.” Then he turned away to flag down another potential customer.
Cassa and I hurried into school and headed over to Miss Flores’s door. I was shaking with nerves, but the dance club list wasn’t up yet.
“You’ll get in for
sure,” Cassa assured me.
“I hope you’re right. And if I don’t, I’ll try out next year.” Now that I’d finally done it, I knew I could do it again.
“Miss Flores better post the list soon or we’ll be late to first period,” Cassa said. She rolled her eyes. “You don’t want Mrs. Connor sending you to detention again.”
I laughed. “I’d survive.” After all, I already had. “So, um, Cassa,” I added softly, afraid to ask the question. “Are you still going to England?”
For a second, I wanted her to tell me that I was insane, that the idea had never even occurred to her. Then I’d know that it was all the wishes’ fault and that everything was back to normal again.
But instead she nodded and said, “My dad just sent me info about the school where I’ll be going. It’s in an old castle! Can you believe it? You’ll have to help me figure out what to pack and how to fit everything in my suitcases. You’re like a pro at stuff like that.”
That was true. And England was still months away. So much could change between now and December. Maybe I should take Elijah’s advice and try not to worry about it.
“You better start practicing your sword-fighting skills,” I told her. “In case anyone decides to storm the castle.”
“Hmm,” she said with a smile. “Maybe I should think about becoming a lefty.”
At that moment, Marina came around the corner. As usual, my muscles tensed when I saw her. Then Cassa stepped forward and called out, “Hey, stranger! Long time no see! Are we still on for working on our project tonight?”
“Totally,” Marina said. “And I’ll bring some new beads to show you.”
It was still weird to see Cassa so comfortable with someone else, but I was relieved that things between them were back to normal. Especially when Marina turned to me and said, “You were so good at the audition, Lexi. I hope we both get in.”
“Thanks,” I said. “You were really good too.”
When Miss Flores came out with the list, the three of us held hands and shrieked and jumped around when both my and Marina’s names were on it. And even though it wasn’t at all the way I’d planned it, it was actually kind of perfect.
I’ve always loved stories about wishes. When I woke up in the middle of the night with the phrase “secondhand wishes” in my head, I had to turn it into a book—and I had lots of help along the way. Eternal thanks to Patty Bovie, Susan Lynn Meyer, Susan Lubner, Kris Asselin, Heather Kelly, and Erin Dionne for their invaluable feedback and brainstorming help. Thank you to Sarah Allen-Lloyd for patiently answering my questions and to Sarah Chessman for being such an entertaining sounding board. Thank you to my agent, Ammi-Joan Paquette, and my editor, Erin Black, (and the rest of the Scholastic team) for their guidance and expertise. Thanks to my friends and family, particularly to my husband, Ray Brierly, for their patience and encouragement. And finally, thank you to Sara Cole and her family, to whom this book is dedicated and who deserve all the luck in the universe.
Anna Staniszewski is the author of several middle-grade novels, including Once Upon a Cruise, the Dirt Diary series, and the Switched at First Kiss series. She also wrote the picture books Power Down, Little Robot and Dogosaurus Rex. She lives outside Boston with her family and teaches at Simmons College. When she’s not writing, she’s out collecting four-leaf clovers and new ideas for life hacks. Visit her online at annastan.com.
Also by Anna Staniszewski
I still can’t believe we’re on a Disney cruise!” a tiny blond girl beside me squeals.
I close my eyes and repeat the Fairy Tale Cruises employee motto in my head: Be helpful, friendly, and fun! That means no correcting the passengers, even if this is the thirteenth person so far today who’s been totally wrong. Instead, I force myself to smile and focus on offering passersby squirts of hand sanitizer as they head into the dining hall for dinner. We only left port a couple hours ago and already my face hurts from smiling. After a whole summer of this, my cheek muscles will be so strong, I’ll probably be able to lift weights with them.
Then the blond girl gasps. “Look, there’s Cinderella!”
“Wow!” her dark-haired friend says. “But why is her dress the wrong color? And why isn’t she wearing glass slippers? Are you sure that’s even Cinderella?”
I can’t take it anymore. “Actually,” I butt in, “it’s Aschenputtel.”
The girls stare at me. They’re probably about six years old and dressed in sparkly pink from head to toe, like mini Barbies.
“What’s an ash puddle?” the blond girl asks, raising an eyebrow at me.
“That character over there isn’t Cinderella,” I explain in my most cheerful voice. “It’s Aschenputtel from the Grimm brothers’ fairy tale. It’s a lot like Cinderella’s story, but instead of a fairy godmother, there’s a tree that grants wishes.” Well, my literature professor dad would be proud of me, but judging by the skeptical looks on the girls’ faces, they are not impressed.
Technically, Disney doesn’t own the rights to Cinderella’s character, but Fairy Tale Cruises isn’t taking any chances or they might get sued, which is why they’re using characters that most people haven’t heard of. At least that’s the impression I got from slogging through the million-page-long manual my mom gave me after she took a last-minute job as the ship’s cruise director.
“So she’s not Cinderella?” the blond girl asks.
“She’s … sort of like Cinderella’s cousin,” I say, but the mini Barbies aren’t listening to me anymore.
“Look! It’s Rapunzel!” the one with dark hair cries. She grabs her friend’s hand, and they rush off toward a young woman dressed as Petrosinella, aka the Italian version of Rapunzel.
“I can’t believe that weird girl didn’t even know who Cinderella is,” I hear the blonde say before they both disappear into the mob of passengers.
It’s so hot and humid out that I’m pretty sure my eyeballs are sweating. I try to casually mop my cheek with my polyester sleeve before I go back to disinfecting people and chirping, “Remember, clean hands equal clean health!”
I should have known better than to correct the Barbie twins. They’ll find out soon enough that none of the characters on the ship are from stories they know. But if one of the Spies heard me, I would have been in trouble.
“Ainsley!” I hear someone call.
I turn to find my new bunkmate, Katy, shuffling toward me. Her legs are bound together so tightly that she can barely move, but her sparkly mermaid costume is glowing in the sun, making her look like some kind of seaweed goddess. My fingers itch to grab the small camera I always keep tucked in my pocket and take her picture, but things like that are Not Allowed while we’re on duty.
“Thank goodness I found you,” she says. “I needed to see a friendly face.”
“What happened?”
“Some little kid pinched me!” She lets out a high-pitched giggle.
“Ouch!” I say with a sympathetic cringe.
“I was just posing for pictures by the main staircase,” she chatters on, “talking to what I thought was a nice family, and suddenly—bam! Right on my behind!” Funny how she’s sixteen, more than three years older than I am, but she’s still embarrassed to say words like butt. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. A few of the other sea creatures might go hang out at the Oven tomorrow night.”
“The Oven?”
She rolls her eyes. “Terrible name, right? It’s supposed to be the ship’s teen lounge and nightclub. You want to come?”
“I can’t,” I automatically say. Then I remember that the whole point of taking this job was for me to not have to constantly watch over Mom anymore. “Wait, maybe I can come. What time?”
“Whenever they let us off our shifts,” Katy says. “I never thought being a mermaid would be so exhausting! You’re so lucky you’re in the show, Ainsley. Then you know exactly when you’re done for the night. Plus, you get to actually be the character instead of just prancing around in a silly costume!”
&nb
sp; Katy’s voice is loud and brassy, not exactly how you’d expect the Mermaid Princess (as she’s called here) to sound. I can see people shooting her confused looks as they walk by. Then again, maybe it’s because she’s dressed more like a fish with long hair than Ariel from the Disney movie.
Suddenly, I spot one of the Spies nearby, dressed in his crisp, white uniform. Uh-oh. He’s looking right at us. My stomach dips, and it’s not just from the movement of the ship.
Mom claims the “monitors” are only on the ship to make sure everything runs smoothly the first few days and that no one does anything that will get us sued, but I bet they scurry to the captain the minute we do something wrong.
“Um, we should probably talk about this later.” I try to give Katy a meaningful look, but she’s on a roll. She’s one of the sweetest people I’ve ever met, but she’s also a serious talker. Last night, our first night aboard the ship, she kept me awake for hours, telling me all about her dog, Snoopy, who’s back home with her parents in Tennessee.
“I did try out to be in the show,” she goes on, “but they said the only spots left were—”
“Remember to remain in character at all times,” the Spy hisses at us.
Katy jumps like she’s just heard a snake. Clearly, she didn’t notice him lurking until now. I glance at his name tag and shake my head. Of course his name is Curt. It matches his personality perfectly.
“Sorry,” Katy whispers. Then her eyes widen and she chirps, “Soooorry!” in her Mermaid Princess voice. She gives me a panicked look and starts waddling toward the pool.
“You’re Ainsley Parker, right?” Curt asks, turning to me.
I swallow. Is he asking my name so he can report me? I can’t get in trouble on the first day and risk making my mom look bad!
“Um, yeah,” I say. “I was just—”
Secondhand Wishes Page 12