The Carnival of Wishes & Dreams

by Jenny Lundquist

  Did Julia even like Diego? Or did she just want another selfie she could post? Grace knew Julia and Audrey were quietly competing for likes and followers online—maybe Julia figured a kissing picture would put her over the top?

  Grace kicked at a stray popcorn kernel. This was turning out to be a rotten night.

  The Kissing Booth—a red-and-white-striped wooden stand—came into view, and Diego was standing right in front, waiting. The lights from the carnival shone down on him and his black hair was slicked into shiny spikes.

  “There he is!” Lulu squealed.

  “He’s so cute!” Erin said.

  “Be cool, everyone,” Julia said. She turned to Grace. “We’ll hang back here,” she said, gesturing to a stand that sold caramel apples. “When it’s time, give me the signal and then I’ll come over.”

  “Okay,” Grace said, and started forward. As she walked toward him, for one small second she allowed herself to believe that her wish was coming true. That Diego liked her and wanted to tell her so, and that it had been his idea to meet at the Kissing Booth.

  Why did he want to meet her, anyway? It obviously had nothing to do with Julia or with the pumpkin gram he’d never received. What did he want to tell her?

  “Hi, Grace,” he said as she drew near. He frowned. “What’s that you’re wearing?” He pointed at her red feather boa.

  She shrugged. “Just some stupid costume Julia made us all wear—I’ve also got a tiara under my baseball cap.”

  “Oh,” Diego said. “Cool.” He looked nervous; his Adam’s apple was bobbing up and down furiously. He shoved his hands into his coat pockets and leaned close. “I have something to tell you,” he whispered.

  Was he really going to kiss her, right then and there? A part of her wanted him to, but a part of her felt like she was trapped in a horror show. What would happen if he kissed her in front of Julia? She’d be on Julia’s bad side for sure.

  But honestly . . . how much did Grace need to care, since next week she’d be starting a new school, far away from Clarkville and its darkening autumn? When she’d be in California, where the sun always shone?

  Not much, Grace decided. In fact, she decided she didn’t care at all. Not if it meant she could get her first kiss and her own magical carnival story.

  “What is it?” She leaned forward and her eyes fluttered shut. She couldn’t help it. She’d imagined this moment a million times.

  Bright spots shaped like shiny red lips danced on the back of her eyelids. She heard Diego take a deep breath and sensed him lean in even closer. Felt his warm breath on her cheeks as he whispered, “Our parents are dating.”

   21

  Audrey

  3 HOURS TO MIDNIGHT

  AUDREY WAS WALKING THROUGH THE carnival, trying to find Julia and the others. After she’d left Ethan, it had taken her at least half an hour to finally get through the funnel cake line. When she got to the front, she realized she had no idea what flavor Grace wanted. She finally picked out salted caramel butterscotch, hoping it was the right one. The carnie making it had given her an extremely small and extremely overcooked one, then sighed deeply when Audrey asked him to box it up to go. Then she’d looped around the carnival trying to find everyone. She’d also texted Julia—again—asking where they were, but so far Julia hadn’t texted her back.

  She’d been trying to forget about the woman in the pirate costume. Ethan was right; it couldn’t be their mother. Wherever their mother was, she wasn’t here, wearing a costume and pretending to be a carnie.

  But still . . .

  After she’d made another loop and still hadn’t found her friends, she decided to go back to the velvet tent. Stan Axelrod had left; in his place was another man, someone she hadn’t ever seen before. She decided to try one last time to get inside.

  She approached the man and said, “My mother is in there—can I get in? There’s something I’d like to give her.”

  Actually, there were several things she’d love to give her mother the next time she saw her: A hug, a kiss, and a lecture about a mile long that could be summed up in one sentence: “How could you have just left us?”

  “She need something for the show?” the man asked, his eyes straying to the box Audrey was carrying.

  “Uh, yeah,” Audrey answered quickly, although she had no idea what he was talking about. She opened up the box and showed him the overcooked piece of dough. “She asked for this funnel cake.”

  “That’s not a funnel cake,” he answered, shaking his head as he opened the door to the tent. “That there’s a deep-fried disappointment.”

  Audrey shrugged and stepped inside with her deep-fried disappointment. The door closed behind her, plunging her into darkness. She blinked rapidly until her eyes adjusted, then followed a silver slice of light down a long hall until she came to a crowded room.

  It was a dressing room of sorts. Rows of costumes piped the edges of the room like colorful frosting. Mirrored tables sat in the middle where men and women were touching up their makeup. Some were dressed as mimes, some as clowns, some as acrobats.

  “Are you from the Snack Emporium?” a girl wearing a white-and-black-striped leotard asked. “I think you’ve got my lucky funnel cake.” She held her hands out and Audrey reluctantly handed it over. Great, now she’d have to stand in line a third time.

  “Wait.” The girl looked up quizzically. “I thought I ordered red velvet?”

  “Uh, you did,” Audrey replied quickly. “But we were out, so I brought you this one instead.”

  “But—”

  “Oh, hurry up and eat it, Glenda,” called a woman dressed as a mermaid. “We go on in fifteen.”

  “We go on after I’ve eaten my lucky funnel cake,” Glenda retorted. “It’s tradition.” She took a bite, powdered sugar working its way around the edges of her mouth as she chewed. When she caught sight of Audrey still staring at her, she said, “Something wrong?”

  Audrey took a deep breath. “I’m looking for my mother. I think she’s in here somewhere.”

  “Oh yeah? What’s her name?”

  “Tricia.” Her mother’s name tasted strange on Audrey’s tongue. She was having trouble getting the words out. “Tricia Mc—”

  “I know who Tricia is,” Glenda said. “She’s over by the lips.”

  Audrey frowned. “The lips?”

  Glenda pointed a greasy finger. “That way.”

  Audrey moved on and soon saw Glenda wasn’t kidding. A large pair of neon-colored purple lips framed a black door. Hidden to the side, steeped in the shadows, was a woman. Audrey’s heart began hammering. Could it really be her mother?

  But as she drew near, she quickly realized it was not. This woman looked nothing at all like her mother. She was wearing a baby doll costume and had blond hair and a bulky frame. She was definitely not the woman Audrey had followed earlier that night.

  “You need something, kid?”

  “Uh, no. I—just—you’re not Tricia McKinley,” Audrey said.

  “No kidding,” the woman replied. “I’m Tricia Rhodes. Is there a problem?”

  “Oh, no,” Audrey said. “I just—I thought you might be my mother.”

  Sometimes disappointment doesn’t taste deep-fried. Sometimes it’s fresh and so raw it squirms in your throat and won’t go away, no matter how many times you try to swallow it down.

  “Why would you think I was your mother?” Tricia Rhodes asked, and Audrey shrugged. “What’s your name?” Tricia added.

  “Audrey.”

  “Okay, Audrey. You look a bit young. Do you work here?”

  “I delivered a funnel cake—but I was just leaving,” she added quickly, because she had no idea how much trouble she’d be in if anyone realized she’d lied her way into the place.

  The overhead lights began to flash and a voice called out, “Ten minutes, everyone!”

  A carnie with yellowing teeth came striding up to Tricia. “Twyla called in sick tonight with a migraine, which means we’re down a
twirler. We need someone to go into the Belly of the Beast with Lynn.”

  Twirler? Belly of the Beast? The conversation seemed nonsensical to Audrey, and with the lights flashing she was having trouble seeing anything but blinking shadows.

  The carnie caught sight of Audrey then and said, “Who are you?”

  “She’s a delivery girl,” Tricia answered. “And she was just leaving. Right?”

  “Right,” Audrey answered.

  “Lynn can just go on by herself tonight,” Tricia said, and both she and the carnie left. They seemed to have already forgotten about Audrey.

  Audrey meant to leave, she really did, but right then she wondered: Was there a stage on the other side of the door?

  Audrey loved stages. Any type of stage—even virtual ones like her social media accounts where she posted images and videos, or the small, literal one inside her school’s multipurpose room where she’d had the lead in the school play last year. She would die if anyone knew this, but she oftentimes dreamed of becoming a famous actress—the kind that won shiny awards and made long speeches thanking all the people who helped them along the way.

  A girl dressed in black pants and a black tank top appeared, carrying two black batons.

  “Oh, twirling!” Audrey said, happy that things were finally starting to make sense. “Baton twirling—that’s what they meant!”

  “Uh, yeah,” the girl said, staring at her strangely. “Are you Twyla’s replacement?”

  The loudspeakers crackled to life and a voice boomed, “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Belly of the Beast!”

  The girl quickly pressed a baton into Audrey’s hand. “That’s our cue,” she said. She tapped a button on her baton and sparks shot out either end. “See you out there,” she called as she opened the door and stepped onstage.

  Through the open door Audrey heard music and thunderous applause, and caught a glimpse of what appeared to be a thousand pinpricks of light that could easily be mistaken for stars. But they weren’t stars. Members of the audience had their phones up, waiting to record the show.

  Audrey wondered if her mother was somewhere out there in the dark. She had to be somewhere, didn’t she? What if she was watching the show right now?

  Audrey didn’t have to think twice. She pressed the button, her baton ignited, and she stepped onstage.

   22

  Grace

  “WHAT?” GRACE BLINKED. NO WAY did she hear that right.

  “Our parents are dating,” Diego repeated. “I had a feeling you didn’t know. They’re actually on a date right now.”

  “That can’t be true.” Grace shook her head. Her mother was spending the night with her boring book club. She’d said so herself.

  But, Grace suddenly remembered, she’d also spent a ton of time picking out her dress for tonight, something that now struck Grace as pretty odd.

  “Are you okay?” Diego asked. “You don’t look so good.”

  “I’m just hungry,” Grace said. “I never ate dinner.” Her stomach chose that moment to let out a very embarrassing gurgling sound, one that would make you think of trips to the bathroom, not kisses at the carnival.

  “Want to split some popcorn?” Diego said, pointing to the snack stand next to the Kissing Booth.

  “Sure,” Grace answered, feeling dazed. She guessed if she couldn’t share a kiss with Diego, she’d settle for sharing popcorn.

  While Diego paid for the popcorn, Grace checked her phone, which had been pinging with increasingly impatient texts from Julia:

  Why is this taking so long?

  What are you two doing?

  WHAT IS GOING ON?!?!!??

  Just give me a minute, Grace texted back.

  After Diego finished paying he handed Grace the bag of popcorn, and she began eating hungrily. “So, do you believe me?” he asked.

  “I don’t know what to think,” Grace said.

  Diego suddenly glanced over her shoulder. “Follow me,” he said, and began walking away. “Before we lose them.”

  “What did you say?” Grace sprinted to catch up with him, but he didn’t answer her. Her phone pinged with another text from Julia:

  WHERE ARE YOU GOING?

  Grace looked backward; Julia and the rest of them were following her and Diego. That girl Jean must have caught up to them while Grace was talking to Diego, because she was right next to Julia, who had a murderous look on her face.

  “In here,” Diego said. He ushered her into a large velvet circus tent. Inside was a circular stage, ringed with rows of wooden seating. A brass sign above the stage said WELCOME TO THE BELLY OF THE BEAST!

  Diego led them to a couple seats near the back. Grace could hear the row behind her filling and felt a sharp poke in the back.

  “What’s going on?” came Julia’s fierce whisper in her ear. “Why are we here?”

  Diego, who had been busy scanning the room, suddenly said, “Look two rows up and to the left.”

  Grace looked; exactly two rows up and to the left her mother and Mr. Martinez were taking seats next to each other. Mr. Martinez held a bag of popcorn, which he offered to Grace’s mother.

  “See,” Diego said. “I told you. They came here together tonight. On a date,” he added.

  Grace could only nod mutely. Mr. Martinez was a firefighter, like her dad had been, and one Saturday morning a few years ago they held a baseball game against Fairvale’s fire department. The Clarkville station nearly lost because Mr. Martinez was an awful pitcher.

  Grace didn’t want to think about her mother seeing anyone. But she felt very strongly that if her mother ever did start dating again, she should at least choose someone who could throw a decent fastball.

  Decent pitching skills or not, here they were at the carnival. Together. Which meant her mother had lied. Not only was she not meeting with her book club, she was on a date. So much for Team Chang. How long have they been dating? Grace wondered. And how serious are they?

  If her mother and Mr. Martinez got married, that would make Grace and Diego family. Then Grace would be in the unfortunate position of being in love with her stepbrother, which was just totally disgusting.

  “I had a feeling no one told you,” Diego said.

  “Is it serious?” Grace asked.

  “Well,” Diego said slowly, “my dad is talking about visiting California next summer.”

  The lights flashed overhead and a voice from the loudspeakers boomed, “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Belly of the Beast!” Music began to play, and the audience burst into applause. Just then, right before the lights faded, Grace’s mother looked over and their eyes met. Even from across the room Grace could see her swelling with fury.

  Her mother stood up.

  Grace also stood up. Then she grabbed Diego’s hand and said, “Run!”

   23

  Harlow

  “NOW WHERE ARE THEY GOING?” Julia said as Grace and Diego sprinted away.

  “They’re running from Grace’s mom,” Lulu said. “Look.”

  They all looked; Mrs. Chang was storming up the aisle just as the curtain lifted and two baton twirlers burst onto the stage.

  “Uh-oh, busted,” Erin said. She turned to Harlow. “Grace sneaked out of the house tonight. She wasn’t supposed to go to the carnival.”

  From behind her mask Harlow nodded as she blindly watched the show. She had meant to stay in the tent the rest of the night and work on her presentation, she really had. But after interviewing each member of the city council, she decided she wanted a snack. With that awful picture of her floating around, there was no way she was going back to the carnival without her costume. She figured it would just be a quick trip to the Snack Emporium and back. She hadn’t counted on running into everyone while they waited for Grace and Diego to finish talking at the Kissing Booth.

  As soon as Erin had called “Jean!,” Harlow had been tempted to rip off her mask and start yelling at her. But Erin had immediately started talking about Julia’s big plan to get a se
lfie with Diego at the Kissing Booth. She’d been so . . . nice. Not at all like someone who would post a cruel picture online. Harlow had a hard time understanding how Erin could be so nice to “Jean” but so nasty to Harlow. It was like Erin was the one wearing a mask. Except Harlow couldn’t figure out which was the real Erin and which one was a disguise.

  Now Harlow felt she’d missed her chance to confront them. And . . . was it so wrong to try to forget about the picture, just for a while? Why couldn’t she enjoy being Jean for a little longer? Maybe she’d never take her mask off. Maybe after the carnival she’d just disappear, like a ghost.

  “Hey,” Lulu said suddenly. “Is that Audrey up there? She’s been gone a long time—I thought she went to get food or something?”

  Up in the middle of the stage two girls were twirling fiery batons. Now that she was paying attention, Harlow recognized Audrey’s curly red hair, which flew in all directions as she spun around in a circle.

  “What a show-off,” Erin grumbled.

  “I can’t believe she didn’t tell me she was going to be part of the show,” Julia huffed.

  A woman in the row in front of them twisted around and snapped, “Can you girls keep it down?”

  “Maybe she wanted to surprise us?” Lulu said, ignoring the woman, but she was quickly silenced by a withering glare from Julia. “I mean,” she added quickly, “we all know how much Audrey likes to be the center of attention.”

  We do? Harlow thought. How do we know that? But then Harlow had a delicious thought: Jean wouldn’t know that. Jean wouldn’t know anything at all about Audrey, Julia, or the circle of friends who’d deserted Harlow last year. She could ask whatever she wanted.

  “Aren’t you and Audrey best friends?” Harlow whispered to Julia, and then winced, thinking maybe that was too direct of a question. Right then she was extremely grateful for her costume and the raspiness of her voice.