Griffin’s eyes grew huge. That was another of her wishes: I wish no kid in the world has nasty green food caught in his braces and no one tells him.
I have to tell them! she thought. “Zeke!” she whispered. “Zeke!”
Mr. Luckner called, “Griffin, would you come to the board and try to estimate how long it would take to travel from Earth to Jupiter if I gave you some facts?”
“Okay,” said Griffin, distracted by the spinach.
She walked toward the front of the class. Mr. Luckner handed her a dry erase marker, and she climbed up on one of the high stools to write the formula on the whiteboard. Just as she placed her foot on the inner rim of the stool, her penny tumbled out of her pocket and rolled on the floor like a wobbly planet, in front of the whole class.
Mr. Luckner swooped down to pick it up before she could climb off the stool. “Find a penny, pick it up, all day long you’ll have good luck,” sang Mr. Luckner, turning the penny over in his hand.
“‘No homework,’” he read.
Griffin stood in front of him. The whole class hushed.
“Griffin, are you trying to send me a message?” he asked.
“No. It’s just a penny I found,” she answered.
A strange look washed over Mr. Luckner’s face. “A penny that has ‘no homework’ taped on it!” said Mr. Luckner. A stillness engulfed the room, and even the swinging planets stopped. The science room snake flicked its tongue against the glass wall of its terrarium. Its yellow eyes lit up, glaring at Griffin. Mr. Luckner stared, mesmerized by the penny. Light from the penny blinded the entire class.
Mr. Luckner exploded, “THIS IS A MARVELOUS idea! A stupendous idea! NO HOMEWORK!”
Every kid in the room sat up, electrified.
“Instead …,” said Mr. Luckner. A strange glow emanated from the penny and scattered light off the hanging planets. A copper radiance swirled in Mr. Luckner’s eyes. Mr. Luckner spoke again. “Instead of nightly homework for the next month, I’m assigning all of you participation in our school’s science night. In the past, science night was voluntary for sixth graders, but it is now mandatory for all of you! You will create a booth, display materials, and write a six-page paper to present at science night. You must work on this using books and the Internet. You have a little less than one month to get ready for science night.
“My whole life I’ve been wishing for no homework to correct!” said Mr. Luckner, and he tossed the penny back to Griffin—but just then a gust of air swept through the room, flinging the penny into the tropical fish tank.
Griffin watched the penny sink through the aquarium water, past the sharp red coral, and disappear into a plastic sunken ship. All the fish bulged their fish eyeballs, circling around and around in pursuit of the lost penny.
“Your first quarter science grade will depend on your science night booth and your oral reports on a famous scientist, due next week,” said Mr. Luckner.
He wrote on the board:
Wednesday, September 10, ORAL REPORTS (on famous scientists)
Wednesday, September 24, SCIENCE NIGHT (booth and paper)
“That’s all folks. No homework! Just two projects this month. No more nightly correcting for me! Brilliant idea, Griffin!”
“Now look at all the work we have to do!” said Zeke. Green vegetables stuck in his braces.
“I’m excited!” said Audree Stein, who had long chocolate brown hair that fell in soft waves around her pretty heart-shaped face.
“I’m not! Thanks for ruining the first month of school!” said Michael Janis.
Griffin bit down hard on her lower lip. She thought, This is how the first wish begins.
Be careful what you wish for.
Chapter
11
How’s school going, Griff?” asked her dad when he picked her up at car pool.
“Fine,” she said, but school had been anything but fine the last three days. Kids in Mr. Luckner’s class were angry at having to do a science project, and she’d found more and more pieces of toilet paper stuck in her locker. She slid the “world peace” penny deep into her pocket for the whole world’s safety.
“Really?” said her dad, knowing her too well. He pulled onto the main road headed to the bakery in the center of town.
“I guess it’s just getting used to a new school,” said Griffin.
When they entered the bakery, smells of cupcakes and melting chocolate greeted them. “Would you like a sample?” asked the lady behind the counter, holding out a frosted double chocolate brownie to Griffin and her dad.
“Just what I was wishing for, Griff!” said her dad, licking the chocolate from his fingers like a little boy.
“Yeah,” Griffin said, and she smiled sadly. She wanted to tell her dad so badly about Mariah.
“We’re here to pick up a cake for my wife’s baby shower,” he said.
“Oh, yes, we’re almost done frosting Saturn’s rings. Can you give us five minutes?” asked the clerk.
“Sure,” said her dad, spying the newspaper rack.
“Dad, I’m going to go outside and look at the cakes in the window.”
“Okay, Griff.”
In the large refrigerated bakery window, rose petals were scattered on the floor of the case. Three cakes of different shapes rested on stands. One was shaped like a race car, another heart-shaped with strawberries and raspberries on top, and the largest cake of all frosted a perfect pink. A beautiful porcelain figure of a ballerina twirled on top of it.
A few feet from Griffin a tall, willowy girl, whom Griffin recognized from gym class, stopped with her mother to look in the bakery window. “Look, Mom,” said the girl. “Look at the cake with the ballerina! She’s beautiful! Can I please, please, please take ballet lessons?”
“Kristina, I told you, it’s a waste of money,” said her mom.
“How do you know?” Kristina asked.
“Only one percent of ballet dancers can even get a job or make a living.”
“What if I’m the one percent?” asked Kristina.
“Most people aren’t meant to be dancers; they’re meant to watch. Lessons are a lot of money, and then for what?”
“Mom—”
“The answer is no!” said her mom. “Come on. I’m going to get a parking ticket!” Kristina’s mom walked away.
“I know I could be the most beautiful dancer if I took lessons, Mom,” called Kristina to her mother’s back.
Griffin froze.
Most beautiful rang in Griffin’s ears. That’s one of the wishes, she thought. She turned to look at Kristina.
Kristina slunk a few paces behind her mother.
Griffin went back inside the bakery. A giant cake was set on the counter in the shape of Saturn, its rings frosted in yellow, orange, and red. The frosted letters on top read, Congratulations! We’re over the moon (s) for you!
Griffin smiled. Saturn had more than sixty moons, so the writing was a special joke for the people who worked at the observatory. “It’s not every woman who would want a Saturn-shaped cake,” said her dad, laughing.
The bakery door flung open behind them. Samantha, Sasha, and Martha strutted right past Griffin, pretending not to see her. At the counter Samantha said to the saleswoman, “I’m here to pick up my forty chocolate chip cookie invitations to my birthday party.”
Glancing down at the Saturn cake, Samantha whispered to her friends, “Nerd cake! Maybe they should serve it with toilet paper.”
Sasha and Martha laughed.
Griffin stared at the three girls and mumbled under her breath, “I wish Samantha looked like a queen lizard with warts all over her face!” Griffin gasped. What a horrible thing to wish … even on Samantha! Her chest felt tight, her throat went dry … as if dark tentacles coiled inside her.
“We’d better hurry, Griffin,” said her dad.
“I know,” she said.
Inside Dadesville’s domed planetarium a galaxy of millions of stars was projected against the darkening
blue sky. The Pleiades, Betelgeuse, Sirius, Pegasus, Orion’s Belt, Ursa Major, and Hercules all shined in the dimming heavens. Even Cygnus, the swan, soared on the giant ceiling above them.
Griffin sat alone in one of the reclining chairs looking up at the universe. From the bottom of her backpack she took out the box of pennies and hid them under her coat. Penny number one, “no homework,” had not gone well at all. How had it fallen out of her pocket when she had stuck it deep inside the cotton lining?
Griffin peered into Mariah’s black box. Slowly she studied the different pennies. She had slid the “world peace” penny back into its slot. Griffin held a penny up to the faded ceiling starlight. The label was curling off. It said “success.” “Success?” she whispered. Griffin’s grandma said she had a great success every time her garden bloomed in the spring. Was success qualifying for the Olympic team, having a true friend, or being a great parent?
“Please, please, please,” she whispered, “to all my old and favorite stars my mom taught me, help guide me to return these stolen wishes.”
When it is dark enough, men see stars.
—Ralph Waldo Emerson
Chapter
12
The next day in Mr. Luckner’s class, Griffin watched the planets swish on the wire above her desk. Mr. Luckner gave the class some time to work on their projects in class, but kids just slumped in their seats and chatted. Griffin tried to cheer herself up. She had returned the “no homework” wish, and maybe something good would come of it. David Hunt tugged a strand of Griffin’s hair from his desk behind her. He teased, “Girls go to Jupiter …”
Griffin whirled around. “David, you’re saying it all wrong. It’s ‘Girls go to Mars to become rock stars.’”
“Yeah, right. Girl rock stars stink,” said David.
“Dude, there are some amazing girl rock stars: Janis Joplin, Michelle Shocked, Tina Weymouth,” said Garrett, flipping his moppy bangs as he walked past their desks.
How can he see under all that hair? Griffin wondered.
“How do you know so much about music?” she asked.
“I’m in a band,” he said proudly.
“Really? That’s so cool. What’s the name of your band?”
“Excuse me,” said Mr. Luckner. “This is work time, not social hour. Everybody is so busy chitchatting that it seems you all prefer partners. Okay, class, it’s TEAM PROJECTS, then! You all must earn a grade together! My two As, Audree and Aiden—a team! Brian and Brent … Garrett and Griffin …”
“Come on, no, Mr. Luckner, please!” some students begged if they were unhappy with their partners. On the other hand, people who got hardworking partners couldn’t stop smiling.
Garrett beamed.
Griffin cringed.
She couldn’t imagine working with Garrett for the next month. Although half the girls already had crushes on him, with his crazy hair and twinkling blue eyes, Griffin noticed how he doodled nonstop in every class they were in together.
Garrett stood over her desk.
“Have you started a project or picked an idea?” asked Griffin.
“Yeah. It’s practically finished.” Garrett shrugged and tossed his hair out of his face.
“Really?” said Griffin, shocked. She hadn’t even decided on a topic yet. Trying to concentrate on anything was difficult with the weight of those wishes upon her.
“What have you done?”
“It’s done in my head,” he said.
The bell rang.
After ripping off a piece of her notebook paper, she wrote down her number. “Can you call me tonight? We can decide on a project, divide up the work, and set some times to meet at the library. Science night is a huge grade, Garrett. It’s really important to me. My mom’s a scientist and …”
“Yeah,” said Garrett, smiling like he’d just won the lottery. “It’s way important to me, too!” He walked out of class and hummed, “Girls go to Mars …”
On the way to lunch after gym class, Griffin noticed a slumped figure hunched by the water fountain in the hallway. It was the girl Griffin had seen in front of the bakery the day before. “Kristina?” called Griffin.
When Kristina turned around, her face was swollen like she had been crying all night. “Are you okay?” asked Griffin.
“Yeah,” she said, not meeting Griffin’s eyes.
“I’m Griffin. You were amazing during the fitness tests today!”
A tiny smile pulled on Kristina’s lips.
“You know, I saw you at the town bakery yesterday,” said Griffin.
“Oh, yeah?” she said, shrinking with embarrassment.
“I heard you say you loved ballet.” Now Griffin blushed at what she was about to say.
Just then Mr. Luckner walked past them, whistling to himself. Griffin wondered if she was doing the right thing at all. Taking a deep breath, she continued. “I have something for you,” said Griffin, digging into her backpack.
“Really?” said Kristina.
“This is a very old lucky penny. Maybe you could be the most beautiful dancer if you wished on it,” said Griffin in one hurried, embarrassed breath.
Kristina took the penny and read, “most beautiful” on the tiny tag glued across the penny.
Quickly Griffin swiveled her head to see if anyone was watching.
“What do I do with it?” asked Kristina.
Gurgling water surging inside the water fountain pipes gave Griffin an idea. Griffin knew water conducted electricity. Maybe if the penny were dunked in water it could reenergize its original wish. “You should wash it off, recharge it, and make a ‘most beautiful’ something wish. Be specific, then wait until it comes true.”
Kristina probably would have thought it silly, holding the penny under the trickling water fountain, if it weren’t such a miraculous-looking penny. “This penny is psychedelic!” She swished the dripping wet penny in her palm, squeezed her fingers around it, and mumbled her wish. Light surged out between Kristina’s fingers.
BAAANGGGG!
Griffin jumped.
Kristina’s hand jerked open. A locker slammed in a distant hallway.
“Oh, no!” Kristina cried.
“What?” said Griffin, looking down the empty hallway.
“The penny! I just dropped the penny down the water fountain drain!” Kristina’s face started to turn blotchy.
Griffin stared at the water fountain. “That’s okay, Kristina. Uhh, it’s exactly what was supposed to happen! How could I have forgotten to tell you?” said Griffin, thinking fast. “After you wish, you need to throw the penny into water for the magic to travel. Usually it’s a well, but the school water fountain is just fine.” Griffin wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans.
A second locker door slammed and Samantha Sloane, carrying a stack of huge chocolate chip cookie invitations, slunk toward Griffin and Kristina.
“What are you guys doing? Why did you just give Kristina that penny?” demanded Samantha. “Are you paying kids to be friends with you?”
“What?” said Griffin.
“Griffin was just—,” said Kristina.
“NO! Don’t tell, Kristina!” said Griffin.
“Thanks. Gotta go!” Kristina said, and she ran down the hall.
Griffin stood face-to-face with Samantha. “Don’t tell me what?” asked Samantha, her teeth glinting in the fluorescent hall light.
“None of your business,” said Griffin, meeting her stare.
“Hey, Griffin!” said Garrett, walking up to them. “What’s your number again? I lost it, but I’ll call tonight,” he said. “Here, I’ll write it on my arm so I don’t forget.”
Samantha’s eyes grew narrower and narrower as Griffin told her number to Garrett.
“Passing out pennies and your number, Griff?” she said.
“Science project, Sam,” Griffin shot right back.
Suddenly Samantha swirled around and flashed her eyes like a lit-up slot machine at Garrett. “Hey, Garrett,” she purred. “I wa
nted to give you one of my chocolate chip cookie invitations to my birthday party this Saturday.” She handed over the frosted cookie with her address and the time of the party.
Samantha’s B-day
Sat. 9/6
1:00 PM
408 Rosmell Court
“Cool cookie!” he said, taking a bite out of the time and address. Now it read:
Samantha’s B-day!
at. 9/6
00 PM
smell Court
Griffin read the mangled cookie and smiled.
“I hope you come,” Samantha flirted.
“Thanks,” said Garrett, taking another bite of the cookie as he walked away. “Later.”
Samantha whirled back to face Griffin. Just then Samantha’s two best friends ran up to her. Martha, who always looked like she stepped out of a designer accessory catalog, said, “We just passed out another twelve cookies, and so far everyone is saying yes!” They high-fived and giggled.
“Your party is going to be amazing!” said Sasha.
“With only the coolest people invited,” said Martha, ignoring Griffin.
“I know,” said Samantha, and they strutted down the hall with smirks on their faces.
No pessimist ever discovered the secret of the stars
or sailed an uncharted land,
or opened a new doorway for the human spirit.
—Helen Keller
Chapter
13
Jamming on her bass guitar in her bedroom after school, with her headphones on, Griffin slashed at the strings and pounded her head to the raging music. She hated Samantha’s clique. Did it really look like I was paying kids to be friends with me, bringing presents for people I’d just met? thought Griffin. Griffin’s back hurt. Her head hurt. Everything hurt.
“GRIFF! GRIFF!” yelled her mother outside her room. “GRIFFIN!” Her mom knocked on her door.
Griffin jumped down from her bed and opened her door.
Her mother put her hand on her hip and stared. “What’s going on? Didn’t you hear me?”
The Wish Stealers Page 4