Wish Rules:
* To activate the wish spell, the entire cake must be eaten, then the wish must be spoken aloud.
* The wish cannot be big, such as conquering a kingdom or world domination.
* It cannot involve other people, such as a revenge plot.
* It cannot involve illegal activity, such as cheating on a test or stealing treasure.
* The wish must be little.
A little wish? That didn’t sound very dramatic. Ginger slumped in her chair. How was she supposed to draw viewers to her show if her guest wished for a new pair of shoes or a different eye color? And did she really want to ask her mom to do a huge favor for something that yielded only a little wish?
“Hello, fellow fairytales,” a familiar voice chirped. Everyone in the Hocus Latte Café turned to look at the large mirror mounted on the central tree. Blondie’s perky face and cascading curls filled the screen. “Be sure to watch tonight’s episode of Just Right to find out if the following fables are true or false. Is Apple White planning a surprise party for a certain charming prince?” From across the café, at her table, Apple giggled. “Is Raven Queen thinking about trading her dragon for a kitten?”
Raven looked up from her hextbook. “That is totally false,” she said with a scowl.
Blondie continued. “And is Ginger Breadhouse about to say ‘The End’ to Spells Kitchen? Be sure to watch tonight’s episode for the answers to these latest scoops. Remember, if it’s not too hot or too cold, it’s just right!”
The screen went dark and the students returned to their conversations. Ginger heard a few of them say, “What’s Spells Kitchen?”
Unbelievable. If her show disappeared, no one would even notice!
“Sorry about your show,” a voice said. Melody Piper took the seat opposite Ginger’s.
“There’s no need to be sorry,” Ginger told her. “It’s not over yet.”
“That’s the attitude. Hey, whatcha reading?” Melody slid her headphones away from her ears. “It looks old.”
“It’s a recipe,” Ginger said. She turned the parchment facedown.
“I could have guessed that.” Melody stirred whipped cream into her caramel frappé. “Why are you hiding it? I’m not Blondie. I’m not going to tell everyone.”
It was true that Melody was way better at keeping secrets than Blondie. To be fair, almost anyone was better at keeping secrets. Ginger glanced around. Then she whispered, “It’s a special recipe.”
“Special?” Blondie suddenly appeared and plopped herself into the other empty chair. “What’s special?”
“How do you do that?” Melody asked. “Seriously? It’s like you hear people whispering and appear out of thin air. Do you have a magic eavesdropping charm or something?”
“There’s no magic,” Blondie said proudly. “Being a journalist is hard work. I have to constantly be on the lookout. It’s exhausting.” She smiled. “But in this case it was pure coincidence. I was coming over to see you guys. So? What’s this special thing you’re whispering about?” She wiggled in the chair. “Come on, spill it!”
Ginger knew it was impossible to keep anything from Blondie. Besides, she needed her friend’s advice. “Well, as you know, I have to get more viewers or the Tech Club will drop me. So I decided I’d better do something hexciting.” She paused, then pushed her glasses up her nose. “Don’t freak out, but I asked Rumpelstiltskin for a special recipe.”
Blondie gasped. “You’re not going to poison someone, are you?”
“Of course not. Have you flipped your crown?” Ginger sat back and tightly folded her arms. “Why do people always ask me that?”
“I’m a journalist. It’s a reasonable question. You’re the daughter of the Candy Witch.”
“It’s not a reasonable question.” A wave of hurt washed over Ginger. She fought back tears as best as she could. All those unhappy memories from spellementary school resurfaced. “Haven’t I proved that I’m not my mom? What do I have to do to make everyone stop stereotyping me?” She swept her pink ponytails behind her shoulders, then wagged a finger at Blondie. “How would you feel if everyone thought you were exactly like your mom? She broke into the bears’ cottage and snooped around, uninvited.” Ginger’s hand fell to her lap. She stopped talking. Blondie was exactly like her mom. Bad example. Ginger sighed. “I’m so tired of trying to prove that I’m my own person.”
“I’m royally sorry,” Blondie said, her voice quiet and sincere. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. You are your own person. You’re Ginger Breadhouse, pastry chef extraordinaire.” She hugged Ginger. Then Melody hugged Ginger. As Ginger wiped tears from her eyes, the bad feelings drifted away. She was so lucky to have such good friends.
Blondie looked around, then rapped her fingers on the upside-down parchment. “Now, will you show me what Rumpelstiltskin gave you?”
“Yeah, show us,” Melody said. The girls leaned on the table, their eyes wide with wonder.
“Okay.” Ginger looked around cautiously to make sure no one else was eavesdropping. “You know how people blow out candles on their birthday cakes and make a wish?” The girls nodded. “Well, I have a recipe for a little wish cake. You eat the cake, make a wish, and it actually comes true.”
“Oh. My. Wand!” Blondie said. “Seriously?”
“If I bake the wish cake on my show and feed it to a special guest, do you think I’d get more viewers?”
“I want to do it,” Melody said, scrambling out of her chair. “Can I do it? Please? Make me your special guest. I already know my wish. I want to own a nightclub and be the DJ and play all my favorite music and—”
“Wait a spell, I want to do it,” Blondie interrupted. “Make me your special guest. I want my own nationally syndicated talk show.”
Melody narrowed her eyes. “I’m her roommate. She should choose me.”
Blondie got to her feet and squared her shoulders. “I’m her friend. The choice is obvious.”
Ginger wasn’t surprised that they looked ready to wrestle each other. Who wouldn’t jump at the chance to make her dreams come true? “I hate to break it to you, but you can’t wish for fame. Or fortune. You can’t wish for anything big. It has to be a little wish.”
“A little wish?” they said at the same time.
“The wish spell only grants a little wish.” Ginger shrugged. “I guess it’s to protect people, you know, so you can’t affect other people’s lives in a bad way. Maybe you could wish for a new MirrorPad or some new music.”
“Who wants to waste a magical wish on that kind of stuff?” Melody asked. She sighed with disappointment, then sank back into her chair.
“I don’t think a little wish is going to save your show,” Blondie said matter-of-factly. She arranged her golden curls, then sat down. “Unless you get the Evil Queen herself to be your guest, or someone equally controversial.”
Kissing sounds rose above the coffeehouse chatter. Ginger glanced across the café. Hopper had just walked in, dressed in his usual shorts and embroidered jacket. Two guys from the Track and Shield team were teasing him by blowing kisses his way. “Yeah, yeah, very funny,” Hopper said with a wave. “The kissing booth was a dumb idea. I get it. Let’s turn the page already!” He stepped up to the counter. “Hey, good-looking,” he said to the barista. “How about one latte for me, and another latte for you, and then we can latte our way outta here.” He leaned real close to her and winked.
“Uh, no thanks,” the girl said.
Ginger cringed. As usual, Hopper was using a stupid pickup line. And, as usual, he hadn’t even noticed that she was sitting just a few feet away.
“If you change your mind, just give me a ring,” he told the barista. “My number is 1-800-You-Don’t-Know-What-You’re-Missing.”
Ginger rolled her eyes. That hadn’t even made sense. Poor Hopper. Why did he try so hard with all the other girls on the planet when the perfect girl was sitting right there? He didn’t need to pretend to be cool around Ginger. If on
ly he’d notice her and give her a chance. Then she realized something—she’d missed her opportunity to get his attention at the kissing booth, but she wasn’t going to miss this new opportunity. As Hopper grabbed his latte and left the Hocus Latte Café, Ginger turned to Blondie and Melody. “What if I made Hopper my guest and let him eat the wish cake?”
“Instead of us?” Melody frowned. “But who wants to watch Hopper?”
“I’d watch him,” Ginger said defensively.
Melody laughed. “Well, of course you’d watch him. You’ve got a mad crush on him.”
Had it been that obvious? Ginger thought she’d hidden her feelings.
“I think Hopper’s a bad choice for a guest,” Blondie said. “The boys like him well enough, but he’s not popular with the girls.”
“That’s only because he doesn’t know how to talk to girls,” Ginger explained.
“He’s the absolute worst at talking to girls.” Blondie frowned. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but if you want to have a boy as a guest, you should ask the most popular boy. Everyone would watch your MirrorCast if Daring Charming made an appearance.”
“Daring doesn’t need a wish cake. He already has everything he wants. Besides, I don’t want Daring to be my guest. I want Hopper.” She grabbed her cauldron purse.
“I think you’re making a huge mistake,” Blondie called as Ginger hurried away.
Chapter 10
Frog Talk
Ginger was amazed at how nervous she felt as she charged out of the Hocus Latte Café, the wish cake recipe tucked into her book bag. She’d talked to Hopper a few times before, but never about anything as important as being a guest star, or saving a MirrorCast show. A sinking feeling filled her stomach, reminding her of a deflating soufflé. Why was she so jittery?
Because you like him, she told herself.
Why did it have to be this way? Why did having a crush make her feel as if her legs were made of pudding? Beads of sweat arose on her forehead. Yeesh. Having a secret crush was like having the flu!
Her ponytails bounced as she hurried over the cobblestones, past the Beanstalk Bakery and the Gingerbread Boutique. Hopper was a few minutes ahead of her. If she ran, she could catch up before he reached campus. Then she stopped in her tracks. Up ahead, Hopper stood in the middle of the lane, watching as Briar Beauty walked right toward him. Briar was busy hexting on her MirrorPhone, so she hadn’t noticed that he was in her path. His whole body stiffened.
“Uh, hey, Briar.” His voice cracked. He rubbed the back of his neck. Was he sweating, too? Was his stomach tight? Why couldn’t he feel that way about Ginger instead of Briar? Then, at least, they’d both be miserable at the same time.
But it made sense that he was drawn to Briar. They were both Royals, after all. Her fairytale story was to fall asleep and be saved by a prince. His was to turn into a frog and be saved by a princess. Ginger had no prince in her story. And she certainly wasn’t a princess.
Sometimes, life was so unfair!
She darted behind a carriage hitching post and watched as the awkward encounter proceeded. Trying to look relaxed, Hopper leaned against a tree, but he misjudged the angle and his shoulder slipped. Trying to recover from the stumble, he changed position and leaned with the other shoulder. Then he opened his mouth. Uh-oh, Ginger thought. Here it comes.
“I’m not a photographer, Briar, but I can sure picture us together.”
Briar glanced up from her phone, but only for a second. “Oh, hey, Hopper.” Then she went right back to hexting. Without a doubt, she had as little interest in Hopper as Hopper seemed to have in Ginger.
But Briar’s glance was all it took to make Hopper blush.
Poof!
Hopper the frog fell onto the cobblestones. “Bye,” Briar said. Then she carefully stepped over him and continued into town.
Maybe this was a good turn of events. It would be easier to talk to Hopper the frog. At least he could put words together and form a sentence that wasn’t a pickup line.
As soon as Briar was out of view, Ginger marched up the lane, then stood over the royal frog. He sat on a stone, his miniature crown perched on his green head. His latte cup had landed next to him. It was more than twice his size. “Hopper?”
He glanced upward. “Indeed, fair damsel, it is I.” He rose onto his back legs and bowed. “Prince Hopper Croakington the Second at your service.” For such a small creature, his voice boomed, as if he were performing on a Shakespearean stage. It was amazing how much dignity he mustered when in amphibian form.
Ginger’s heartbeat returned to normal. She didn’t feel nervous, because her crush was on Hopper the boy, not on Hopper the frog. It was as if she were talking to an entirely different being. They shared the same brain, maybe, but the boy and the frog were total opposites.
“Hopper, I need to ask you something.” It felt weird towering over him. If she suddenly tripped, he’d get squished! “Uh, can I pick you up?”
“The honor would be entirely mine.”
She knelt and offered her hand. As he stepped onto her palm, she shivered. Those little webbed feet were cold. Once he’d settled, she stood and held him in front of her face. As she looked into his bulbous eyes, she felt a pang of guilt. How many times had she found frog eyeballs floating in her mother’s cauldron? If he ever transformed in front of the Candy Witch, he’d be toast. Scratch that. He’d be frog leg soup!
“I wanted to ask you if you’d be on my MirrorCast show,” she said, trying to erase from her mind the horrid image of Hopper stew.
“Your show?” He blinked. “Ah, yes, you are referring to your delightful yet unappreciated entertainment venture. I am flattered by the invitation, and I assure you that though my stature be diminutive and amphibious, I am capable of wooing an audience. However, have you considered the possible consequences?”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“It is my unfortunate curse to turn back into human form without notice. While I would make an excellent guest, due to my extensive vocabulary and rapier wit, in boy form I am an embarrassing lunk, incapable of holding a decent conversation with the opposite gender.”
True, but you sure are a lot cuter as a boy, Ginger thought.
“It doesn’t really matter to me whether you’re Hopper the boy or Hopper the frog,” she said. “I’m going to bake something special. I just need you to be there.”
He tensed. Then his round eyes narrowed to slits. “Forgive me for asking… but you wouldn’t, perchance, be baking something poisonous? Or frog du jour?”
Ginger groaned. Even frogs suspected her. “No, of course not. I want you to be my guest, not my main dish! I’m going to bake a wish cake. If you eat it, you can make a wish and it will actually come true.”
“Hark, did I hear correctly?” A huge grin spread from earhole to earhole. “A wish?” Ginger nodded. He stood on his hind legs and raised his little arms to the sky. “Shall I wish for a trip to the moon, or a handful of starlight to keep in my pocket? Shall I rule a lily pad kingdom or command the insects to serve at my beck and call?”
Wow, he had some grand dreams.
“Sorry, but the wish can’t be that big. It has to be something smaller.” Her hand suddenly felt heavy, as if she were carrying a brick.
Poof!
The frog disappeared and Hopper was standing next to her, his right foot on top of hers. “Oops. Sorry about that,” he said, stepping away. His voice was back to its normal range. As he reached down to grab his latte, she quickly wiped some slime off her hand. “So, uh, about that wish. What do you mean it has to be smaller?”
“Well, I know you’re new to Tech Club and you haven’t been on the Spells Kitchen set yet, since you had that stomachache earlier, but the truth is…” She paused. “I only got five viewers today.”
“Yikes,” he said. “That’s brutal.”
“Yep, brutal.” She couldn’t have chosen a more fitting word. “Anyway, I’m trying to get students to watch Spells
Kitchen. I thought I could make you my special guest and have you eat the wish cake.”
“Yeah, about that…” He rubbed the back of his neck again. “I don’t really want to command an insect army, or put starlight in my pocket. I say weird things when I’m a frog.”
You say weird things when you’re a person, too. “Well then, what would you wish for?” she asked. Don’t say Briar. Please don’t say Briar.
He glanced around. They were alone on the path. Then he looked right into Ginger’s eyes. She almost melted. “I get nervous around girls. I always have. It’s tough, you know, because I’m roommates with Daring, and all he has to do is open our door and girls come running. He has no trouble talking to them. But I can barely say hello.”
She smiled encouragingly. “You’re talking to me right now, and you don’t seem nervous.”
“I know. For some reason, you don’t make me feel nervous. It’s like I don’t need to prove anything to you.”
“What do you have to prove?”
“That I’m as good as the other princes. I mean, I know I’m handsome and smart and athletic, but what does any of that matter if I’m always turning into a frog? Girls aren’t crazy about frogs, believe me. Why couldn’t I turn into a dragon, or a racehorse, or something that’s not slimy? When girls look at me, all they see is frog boy.”
“Maybe some girls,” Ginger said. “But not all.” That’s not what I see.
“Well, Briar does. And as long as I turn into a frog every time I try to talk to her, I don’t stand a chance at getting a date with her.”
Yep, he definitely had Briar on the brain.
For a moment, Ginger was tempted to choose a different special guest for her show. Because the last thing she wanted was to act as a matchmaker for Hopper and Briar! But he suddenly looked so sad, as if the rejection he’d felt over the years was hitting him all at once—like a big, fat punch to the gut. Ginger knew exactly how he felt. There’d been many times when she’d watched kids walk past her front window on their way to school. She’d wave through the glass, but they’d point at the house, squeal, and run away.
Kiss and Spell Page 5