Beside her, Professor wagged his tail nonstop, obviously excited about the extralong outing. He was also clearly enjoying having his squirrel wife tagging along. She was scampering in and out of the bushes and sometimes walking right beside him so it looked like Lena had both a pet dog and a pet woodland creature.
Lena wondered briefly if her mom had already landed in Arizona. She was glad the two of them had worked things out, but Lena wasn’t sure she’d ever be ready to go live with her mom. At least there were no lies between them anymore. Maybe that meant they could learn to trust each other again.
When she reached Marcus’s house, Lena didn’t let herself glance at it as she rushed by. She definitely didn’t want to make things even more awkward between them by lurking outside his window.
Once they were past Marcus’s house, Professor insisted on stopping at a pond and sniffing every inch of icy mud while the squirrel scurried into a clump of bushes. Lena glanced around to make sure no one was watching, and then she focused on calling up her energy, just to see what would happen. She hadn’t had any assignments the past few days, but she wasn’t sure if that was Eddie’s doing or if it was a slow soul-collecting week.
Her fingers gradually flared to life like they were waking up from a long nap. The purple glow around them was hazy and unsteady. After a minute, it went out on its own.
Lena let out a long sigh that seemed to echo in the crisp air. Her sluggish powers had to be a sign that Marcus was unhappy. It was bad enough that she was miserable. She didn’t want him to be too. Maybe she should go stop by his house.
No, she told herself firmly. He’d made it clear he wanted a break from her. Going to see him now would only make things harder. Even though there was obviously still a link between them, no doubt it was fading by the day.
She turned to tell Professor that they were heading home, but she spotted a familiar face across the street. Caspar Brown.
He was standing in the middle of his driveway, leaning over what looked like a couple of toys. Only they weren’t toys, Lena realized. They were Marcus’s models.
Lena gasped as Caspar picked up a rock larger than his meaty hand and lifted it over his head, clearly about to crush the models with it.
“Stop!” She took off running, Professor barking in alarm behind her. “What are you doing? You can’t break those.”
Caspar looked up at her and smirked. “Why not? They’re mine.”
“They’re Marcus’s. I’ve seen them in his room.”
“Not anymore. He sold them to me,” Caspar said.
“If you paid money for them, then why would you destroy them?” Lena asked.
“It’s not my money,” he said. “I took it out of my mom’s purse. Besides, who cares? It’s just old junk anyway.”
But it wasn’t junk, not to Marcus. “Why did he sell them to you?”
Caspar snorted. “Like you don’t know.”
“What are you talking about?”
“He sold them for some tickets or something. He was trying to impress you.” He laughed. “What a loser. I didn’t even pay him for the robot, and he was too chicken to do anything about it.”
Lena’s stomach went cold. Marcus had sold the models—his favorite models—for her? For the theater tickets that she’d thrown back in his face?
“Give them back,” she said.
“Yeah, right.” Caspar started to lift the rock again, but this time Lena grabbed his tree-trunk arm. She had to reach far over her head to hold on to it.
“I said, give them back,” she said through her teeth. Beside her, Professor growled.
Caspar glanced uncertainly at the dog. “If your mutt attacks me, I’m calling the police.”
“Good, call them,” Lena said. “I’m sure they’d want to hear all about how you steal things.”
“As if they care about people stealing small stuff like this,” he said, clearly speaking from experience. “You can’t prove anything anyway.” Still, he let the rock drop to his feet, shaking his arm out of Lena’s grasp. But when she went to pick up the models, Caspar stepped in her way. “Nope. These aren’t going anywhere.”
“If you don’t give them back, I’ll—”
But what could she do? Caspar was more than twice her size. And even if she could somehow use her powers to scare him off, they were too unstable now to be of any help.
“Yeah,” Caspar said, smirking again. “Now go away before I call the police for the fun of it.” He reached out and gave Lena’s shoulder a shove.
Just then, Lena heard a familiar laugh behind her. Then a ball of light came charging over her shoulder. It was Mr. Watts.
“What the—?” Caspar cried as the ball of light flew at him. “Get it away from me!”
He turned to run, but it was too late. The ball of light swirled around him, and Lena watched with a mixture of horror and amusement as Caspar’s oversized jeans suddenly slid down to his ankles, revealing boxers with pink hearts all over them.
Lena laughed in surprise. Caspar Brown had gotten pantsed by a ghost!
Caspar scrambled to pull his jeans up as he backed away, his eyes unnaturally wide. “What is it with you and that Marcus kid?” he spat. “Why are you both such freaks?”
Lena didn’t answer. Instead, she watched in satisfaction as the ball of light started to charge at him again.
Caspar didn’t wait another second. He turned and bolted into his house, leaving Marcus’s models behind.
When he was gone, Lena grabbed the models and raced across the street to the pond. When she stopped, she found herself face-to-face with the ball of light.
“Thank you,” she said. “You have no idea what a good thing you just did.”
She heard Mr. Watts’s faint voice say, “I never could stand a bully.” Then he laughed. “Not a bad prank for my final act, eh?”
“Final act?” Lena asked. “Does that mean you’re finally ready to move on?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” he said. The ball of light started to glow with a warmer, brighter light than ever before.
Lena’s fingers flared to life. She reached out to touch the ball of light and heard Mr. Watts whisper, “Remember. Find your fun.” Then her hand slowly sank into the clump of lights, and one by one, they went out like stars.
Then everything was still.
As Lena’s hand stopped glowing, she felt the biggest sense of relief yet. And she knew that wherever Mr. Watts had gone, he was laughing like crazy.
She took in a deep breath and started to head for home, Professor trailing behind her. As she walked, she studied the models in her hands. She couldn’t believe that after all the hours Marcus had put into restoring them, he would let someone like Caspar get his paws on them. And that he’d done it all for her.
Chapter 35
It was the last indoor track meet before the holidays, and Marcus knew he was running out of chances to make things right with Ann-Marie and Peter. He had just enough time to pop in and talk to Peter before he had to go start setting things up for opening night of the play.
He spotted Ann-Marie warming up in the corner, running in place like a wind-up toy. “What do you want?” she asked when he went over.
“To wish you luck.”
“And…?”
“And that’s it. I know you’ll be great.”
“Oh,” she said uncertainly, as if trying to figure out the catch. “Thanks.”
When he went back to his seat, he waited for the first race to start. After a minute, as he’d hoped, Peter appeared in the corner. As usual, Claire was with him. Even though they were gazing adoringly into each other’s eyes, the sparks between them looked more bored than ever before. When he squinted, Marcus could see a flash of drab green around them, like their auras had caught the flu.
Marcus took a deep breath and went over to them. “Hey, P
eter, can I talk to you alone for a second?”
Peter glanced at Claire uncertainly, as if he wasn’t sure if he needed her permission, but finally he nodded.
When they’d put a little distance between them and Claire, Marcus cleared his throat and blurted, “I’m sorry about all that stuff I said about my sister the other day. I didn’t know what I was talking about, and I shouldn’t have butted into her life.”
“Oh, it’s okay. I mean, I’m with Claire and everything, so I guess it doesn’t matter.”
“Do you actually like Claire?” Marcus couldn’t help asking.
The question seemed to surprise Peter. “Um, well…” He frowned, as if trying to figure out what the word “like” meant.
“I know it’s none of my business,” Marcus said, “but you guys don’t seem to have much to talk about. And, I mean, shouldn’t you be able to say that you like your girlfriend?” After all, Marcus and his girlfriend weren’t even technically together anymore, but he still liked her.
“Yeah,” Peter said. “I guess you’re right.”
“And you can’t say that about Claire, can you?”
“Sure I can. I like…” Peter frowned as the words obviously didn’t want to come out of his mouth. “Huh, that’s weird.”
“Maybe that’s something to think about,” Marcus said. “By the way, are you going to the play tonight?”
“Not sure. Why?”
“Oh, no reason,” Marcus said, trying to sound casual. “I think my sister’s going, so I wondered if you were too. Well, anyway. See ya.”
Then he forced himself to walk away. Even though he wanted to beg Peter to dump Claire. Even though he was desperate to convince him how perfect he and Ann-Marie were for each other. Even though there were dozens of tactics in Grandpa’s dating book that he hadn’t tried yet. He had to let it go and trust that a little spark of doubt might be enough to finally get Peter to realize the truth for himself.
Marcus went back to the bleachers and sat down as Ann-Marie’s first race started. He couldn’t believe how incredible she was, so driven and determined. She was a lot like their dad in that way. Or maybe, Marcus suddenly realized, in some ways that made her a lot like him.
• • •
Since Lena couldn’t ride her bike while wearing her playing card costume, she asked her dad for a lift to school.
“Did Mr. Jackson change his mind about letting you be in the play?” her dad asked.
“Nope,” Lena said. “But I need to go talk to Marcus.”
He and Viv exchanged puzzled looks, probably wondering why she couldn’t simply call him, but they didn’t press. Instead, the three of them piled in the car, with the playing card costume strapped in next to Lena, and headed for the school.
“That’s quite the costume,” Viv said. “Did you make that, Ken?”
He beamed. “How can you tell?”
Viv gave Lena a knowing smile over her shoulder. “Oh, no reason.”
Lena couldn’t help smiling back. The costume looked more like a beehive than a playing card. Somehow all the pieces had come together honeycomb style, creating something more spherical than flat. She’d wanted to make a backup costume, but with everything else going on, she hadn’t had time. Now it didn’t matter anyway. The costume only needed to be good enough to get her backstage.
When they got to the school, Lena’s dad headed off to show Viv how much the building had changed since he’d been a student there. Lena found herself smiling when she saw them walking away holding hands. She’d worried that her dad had been set up with yet another person who wasn’t right for him, but Viv wasn’t like that. Lena had to admit that this time, Eddie and whoever he worked for had finally gotten it right.
When she peered into the drama room, the first person she saw was Hayleigh.
“Lena!” she said with a gasp. “What are you doing here? Mr. Jackson will freak out if he sees you.”
“Where is he?”
“The pipe that burst over Thanksgiving started leaking again,” she said. “He’s been with the custodians trying to fix it.” She crinkled her nose. “What are you wearing?”
“My costume,” Lena said. “Have you seen Marcus?”
But Hayleigh didn’t answer, because just then, Abigail and Emery walked in, arm in arm.
“Are they together now?” Lena asked. Did that mean Emery had finally chosen between her friends?
“No,” Hayleigh said. “Abigail and I decided to share him. She has him for the next seven minutes, and then I get to have him until quarter past.”
Lena stared at her. “And you’re okay with that?”
“What else am I supposed to do? It’s the only way I can get any alone time with him!”
This was ridiculous. Lena didn’t know why the sparks between her friends and Emery were as strong as ever, but the whole fiasco had to end. She grabbed Hayleigh’s arm and pulled her over to Abigail and Emery.
“We need to settle this now,” she said.
“Settle what?” asked Abigail.
“Emery,” Lena said. “Do you like Abigail or Hayleigh, I mean really like them?”
“Sure,” he said. “They’re great.”
“No, not great. I mean, do you get tingly when you see them and when they hold your hand? Can you laugh about eating expensive slime together? Do you know without a doubt that they’re your perfect match and that you’re meant to be together?”
Emery faltered, and the weird dreamy look on his face seemed to dim a notch. “N-no.”
The other girls gasped. “What?” Hayleigh cried. “But we’re perfect for each other!”
“Why?” Lena asked. “What makes him so great?”
Hayleigh opened her mouth to answer, but nothing came out. Lena turned to Abigail and asked her the same question, but she was also at a loss.
“Wait,” Emery said suddenly. “Why would we be eating expensive slime?”
Lena laughed. “I have to go find Marcus.”
“He’s backstage,” Abigail said. “He had to help move the sets so they wouldn’t get wet.”
“I need to talk to him.”
“Can’t it wait?” Abigail asked. “The show’s about to start.”
Lena saw that people were getting into places. But no, it couldn’t wait, she realized. Suddenly, she knew exactly how that crazy lady dangling from a skyscraper must have felt when she’d scrawled “I love you, Bob.” Marcus was right. Sometimes you needed a big romantic gesture to show the other person how you feel.
Chapter 36
The trees were sopping wet. Marcus had spent hours and hours painting them, and now they were soggy, dripping messes thanks to the leaking pipe backstage. To be honest, the sets hadn’t looked that much better when they’d been dry. Marcus was clearly not cut out for all this theater stuff. Funny how he’d only agreed to do it in the first place to spend more time with Lena, and now she wasn’t even here.
When he and some of the other tech kids had finished blotting the sets with paper towels, a red-faced Mr. Jackson announced that it was already fifteen minutes past curtain and the show had to go on, soggy sets or not.
Marcus ignored his damp clothes and went to wait in the wings for intermission when he’d have to lug the wet trees back into the hallway. As the play started, he glanced around the auditorium through a crack in the curtain and spotted a familiar face in the crowd. Ann-Marie. He squinted and realized that sitting next to her, amazingly, was Peter Chung. Claire, on the other hand, was nowhere in sight.
Marcus couldn’t believe it. Had his plan finally worked? He tried to detect any hint of a spark between Ann-Marie and Peter, but he didn’t see anything in the darkness. He couldn’t help feeling disappointed, but at least they were here together. Maybe the rest would come on its own. Either way, he was through interfering and trying to make things perfect. All t
hat had done was drive Lena away. At least his sister’s aura looked much less drab than it had a couple days ago. That was a start.
A few scenes later, he was barely paying attention to what was going on onstage, when he suddenly realized things were far too quiet.
He peeked onto the stage and spotted Emery Higgins in full Cheshire Cat gear, standing completely frozen with a pained expression on his painted face. The other kids onstage looked a bit panicked. Oh no. Emery had forgotten his lines!
Mr. Jackson was sitting in the front row, frantically waving at them to keep going, but no one seemed to know what to do. And then somewhere above the stage, someone let out a cry, and a second later, a giant beehive plummeted onto the stage.
• • •
It was the ultimate trust fall. Lena had to trust that she wouldn’t plunge to her death. As she clung to a rope tied to the rafters, her feet dangling ten feet above the stage, her whole body screamed at her to go back to the safety of solid ground. She ignored it. If she wanted to show Marcus how serious she was about him, she had to go big. Maybe their powers would still be messed up, but at least he’d know how she felt.
So she gripped the paintbrush with one hand and the rope with the other, and she leaned toward the back wall of the stage. Once the play was over, she’d pull open the back curtain and everyone—including Marcus—would see what she’d written there.
She swung the rope a little closer to the back wall, her costume bunching up around her. If she fell, maybe it would give her some extra padding as she hit the stage.
Lena shuddered at the thought and dipped the paintbrush in the tin of red that she’d found backstage. Then she started smearing the wall with big, jagged letters. She ignored the dripping above her that must have been coming from the leaky pipe, even when a few drops of water rolled off the wooden rafters and plunked onto her forehead.
Meanwhile, the play was going on behind her, right on the other side of the curtain. Ironically, she was getting more stage time now than she would have if she’d still been a playing card.
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