Twist My Charm

by Toni Gallagher

  I open my backpack. I touch the rough edges of the potion book, promising myself I’ll translate something as soon as I can. Then I pull out my other book. I’m hoping it will be easy to read, but I’m not that lucky.

  Quantum Physics, Biocentrism, and the Universe as We Know It.

  That sounds like a lot of stuff for a little book.

  I’m going to have to work out a deal with Kevin. I’ll start on that after he gets over us being late for the bus.

  —

  After school, instead of doing homework, I lie on my bed with POCIÓNES FANTÁSTICOS and try to pick my favorite potion. Since I only know a few of the words, I do my judging by looking at the drawings. They’re all so lame and basic: men’s and women’s faces with hearts in between them, bottles that look like they hold potion, cups you might drink from, jewelry, scenery, and even toys. (I decide right away to avoid anything that looks even close to a voodoo doll.) I read some of the Spanish words aloud, as if saying them could help me figure out what they mean.

  I’m mumbling to myself en español when Dad knocks on my door and walks right in before I can even tell him to wait.

  “Dad!” I shout, slamming the book shut and turning it over so he doesn’t see the title. He doesn’t know Spanish, but he might be able to figure it out.

  “Oh, good, I’m glad you’re doing your homework,” he says, then tells me he’s going to take Toby on a jog around the lake. I’m glad, because since Terri broke up with him, he hasn’t gone on any hikes or ridden his bike or even walked very fast. But I’m even gladder because this will leave me alone for a while—with his computers!

  I follow Dad to the front door and send him off with an overly happy wave. “Have an awesome time! Say hi to Red Shorts!” Dad looks confused by my enthusiasm, but Toby barks happily like he agrees.

  Once I see them turn down the dirt path that circles the lake, I run to the dining room and sit down in front of Dad’s biggest computer. As long as I keep his piles of folders and junk and wadded-up papers in the places where he left them, he’ll never know I was there. I carefully use one of his printers to scan my favorite-looking potion so far—the one called COSAS DULCES PARA TU DULCE CORAZÓN.

  Judging by the pictures, it looks like you have to cook a bunch of ingredients in a pot on a stove. Until recently, Dad only trusted my cooking skills with the microwave, but lately he’s let me be more independent. Not only will he leave me alone, like today, he also lets me boil water and make sure the oven is preheated properly.

  Once the potion recipe pops up on his computer, I email it to myself, then erase the evidence that I was ever there. On the computer in my room, I copy the recipe into a translation program, and a few seconds later it’s in English—though some of it is a little off.

  The potion is called STUFFS SWEET FOR YOUR HEART SWEET.

  I guess the translator who created the program forgot the adjectives-before-nouns rule in English.

  Start with a pot sturdy on stove hot. Make water boil gently. Melt chocolate tasty and strawberry ripe to create a mixture bold. Add seven drops of honey sweet. Stir several times. Breathe in the aroma. Delicious, no? But wait! This is not enough to make a person of interest love you. We must be realistic. Love is not always sweet! Love is full of surprises strange! Another flavor unexpected must be added. Chop onion and crush into pieces small. Add to liquid for a surprise zesty. Even a fool cannot prove it wrong. It is foolproof! Foolproof, I say with vehemence!

  That makes me laugh. And though there’s no one here to appreciate how strong I’ve been, I sit back and nod, proud of myself for blazing my own trail and not being tempted to use Uncle Arnie’s love potion. Then I read the final paragraph of the potion I figured out myself.

  Once cooled, put mixture in container. When time is perfect, place three drops into a drink of the person you desire. The next person to whom he (or she) speaks ten words is the person with whom he (or she) will fall in love indeed. Let us hope that will be you!

  I type a sentence in English into the translator just to see how it comes out. In Spanish it’s Espero que no me va a ser.

  I hope it won’t be me!

  “Who knows what chemistry is?” Kevin asks the next morning as we start science class.

  Hearing the word chemistry, Madison turns to me and smiles big, her straight white teeth sparkling. She’s thinking about the same thing I am. It’s the Ryder Landry song we love, “Chemistry Class”—“You, you, you plus me, me, me. Put us together, it’s chemistry. It’s a reaction, an attraction, put us together and there’s plenty of action!”

  Larry raises his hand, but as usual he doesn’t wait to be called on. “It’s when you get to blow things up!”

  Kevin raises his voice over our laughter. “As is often the case, Larry is partially correct. That is one of the things that happen in chemistry. Remember earlier in the year, when Larry taught us about matter?”

  I do. Even though Larry wasn’t my friend yet, I liked his presentation on Albert Einstein, the wacky-looking super-smart scientist with fuzzy hair like my uncle Arnie’s. Kevin tells us that chemistry is the study of how matter (which Albert Einstein discovered or named or something) is put together and how it can change.

  Lonnie Cheseboro makes a snoring sound, and Kylie Mae giggles. At least Lonnie’s paying attention. Ronnie is wadding up little bits of paper and tossing them into Lisa Lee’s hair as she stares out the window.

  Kevin ignores the snore and continues. “Chemistry is a lot more exciting than it sounds because, as Larry pointed out, sometimes these atoms—the building blocks of matter—come together and explosions occur.”

  A couple of people whoop with excitement. I’m still thinking, It’s a reaction, an attraction, put us together and there’s plenty of action, as Kevin continues. “Before there are any explosions, though,” he says, “push your desks together and sit with the partners you had for our biology section.”

  Desks screech and scrape as they’re pushed around the room. I was happy to be paired with Larry a couple of weeks ago for biology…though I wasn’t quite so happy that Madison ended up with her old pal Lisa Lee. Dad once told me that jealousy is called a green-eyed monster, and I know why. As I see Madison and Lisa Lee chatting and looking friendly right now, I feel like my teeth and nails are getting sharper and that I could growl in their direction. I don’t know why I’d have green eyes, though. I’ll have to ask Dad sometime.

  I snap out of my monster-like feeling when Larry does a jokey dance step as he trots toward me, holding his monkey toy up in the air and almost singing. “Mono—says ‘oh no’—I’m gonna sit by Cleo!” He flops into the seat next to me and deposits the monkey on my desk. I pat it on the head and say hello.

  “Aww, Cleo loves a monkey!” Lisa Lee says in a fake sweet voice. “And his name is Scabby Larry!” Kylie Mae reaches back from her desk and they smack hands. At least Madison swats at Lisa Lee a little. I just wish she’d looked a tiny bit more upset about it.

  “Okay, everyone, calm down and settle in,” Kevin says in a voice raised over the activity. “Now, Larry talked about blowing things up….”

  “And that’s what we’re gonna do!” Ronnie Cheseboro shouts, then high-fives his brother.

  “Not exactly,” Kevin says, “but I’ll start us off with a simple demonstration.” He lays a towel across his desk, sets down a two-liter bottle of soda, and opens the top. He puts a plastic funnel into it, then holds up a handful of small, round white things. “These are simple mint candies. I’m going to put them in the soda all at once through the funnel, and watch what happens when these two types of matter meet.”

  I’m no scientific genius but I’m one step ahead of Kevin. When you mix soda and mints, I bet there’s a reaction, an attraction, put them together and there’s plenty of action!

  Kevin drops the mints into the soda, and WHOOSH! There’s a reaction all right. Foamy soda sprays up and out of the bottle, making a big mess on Kevin’s desk and even spilling onto the floor.
Some of the kids in the front row are afraid of being hit, so they run from their desks. It’s awesome!

  I’ve decided I like chemistry. Not only does Ryder Landry find it interesting enough to write about, it also makes a mess in the classroom. Now I’m hoping my first chemistry experiment with Madison—our love potion—will work just as well!

  I’ve figured out the perfect time to make it happen: at the Immersive Interactive Art Installation, which is Friday—only three nights away. That means a poción fantástico has to be made…and soon.

  —

  I convince Dad that Madison and I need a “study afternoon” to help each other finish our projects. I’ve been very secretive about my storyboards, so he doesn’t know I’m already finished—ahead of schedule! The only thing I need to do is pick the best one to display. It’s important to choose wisely because it’s not only for the school; it’ll also be seen by Hollywood producers, like Madison’s dad. Maybe he’ll be so impressed that he’ll hire me to work on his next outer space blockbuster. Then I’ll get Ryder Landry to do a song for it and I’ll make Lisa Lee and Kylie Mae pay hundreds of dollars to go to the premiere!

  I know it’s a crazy fantasy, but considering I’m about to concoct a love potion to make my boy-who’s-a-friend (not boyfriend) fall in love with my former best friend, why not keep an open mind?

  Madison comes home with me and Dad after school, and on the ride I convince Dad to go out to his favorite coffeehouse. That will take much longer than a jog around the lake with Toby. As a treat I tell Dad I’ll make dinner. I figure if we’re going to be working on the stove anyway, I could heat up some soup too.

  “Okay, I’ll be gone about an hour,” he says, putting his green messenger bag over his shoulder. “Actually, maybe an hour and a half. I think I’ll take my bike instead of driving.”

  “That sounds great, Dad!” I tell him. “Take all the time you want.”

  He says goodbye, but I don’t even see him leave because Madison and I are already running down the hall to my bedroom.

  POCIÓNES FANTÁSTICOS is a strange-looking book that Dad would definitely notice in my room, so I hid it in the same dusty place I once hid my voodoo doll—under my bed. I shimmy underneath to get it, and when I slide back out and turn around, I’m face to face with a big, bright orange…human head!

  Okay, it’s not a head exactly, but it’s shaped like a head. Sort of. The top is smooth and round like an egg, but there’s a small point in the middle—a nose, I suppose—and something that kind of looks like a chin at the bottom.

  This must be the latest version of Ryder Landry!

  Of course, Madison couldn’t capture Ryder’s smooth, flawless skin, since she’s used ripped-up pieces of paper and that pasty goop, but she painted his newspaper “skin” a color that looks like he’s been in a tanning bed too long. His eyes are bright blue, but his eyelashes are big and thick and girly. Madison must have borrowed some fake ones from her mom.

  “Do you like it?” she asks.

  I hold my breath to keep from laughing.

  “Yeah, it’s…beaut—” But I can’t even get to “iful” without starting to laugh.

  “Well, it’s not done, duh!”

  I take a drink from a bottle of water and almost choke on it. “I’m sorry, he’s gorgeous, he’s handsome; I can’t tell the difference between this and the real thing!”

  “You like him? For real?”

  I look at the orange newspaper skin and the bald head, and I do what any good friend would do. I lie my butt off.

  “Of course I like him. I love him!”

  “Oh, you loooooove him?” Madison asks. “Like Lisa Lee loves Ronnie Cheseboro?”

  “More!” I joke.

  “Well, if you love him so much, you should kiss him!” She puffs up her lips, making smoochy sounds. “Come on, Cleo, kiss your boyfriend!” She turns Ryder’s head so he’s looking at me and moves it forward, inch by inch. I gaze at Ryder’s way-too-pink painted lips, getting closer and closer to mine, as Madison sings one of our favorite Ryder songs: “Then it’ll be you and me, forever we’ll be, sailing on a boat on the sea of love…”

  I close my mouth tightly and jump up on my bed. “No, I can’t! I won’t!”

  Madison lifts the Ryder head toward me, still singing. “In a boat—sunshine all the time—in a boat—seagulls, foam, and brine…”

  “No más!” I say jokingly in Spanish. I put my hands over my mouth, then mumble through my fingers, “Come on, we need to get serious”—which makes us both burst out laughing.

  Madison gives up and lowers the head. “Okay, let’s go.”

  “To the kitchen!” I announce, jumping off the bed.

  “Wait!” Madison shouts before I get through the door. I stop and turn around.

  She’s standing in front of my dresser, gazing at the little red bottle of love potion. Ryder’s ridiculously blue eyes seem to be staring at it too. “What about this?” she asks.

  “What about what?” I say, though I know exactly what she’s thinking. Of course she wants to use Uncle Arnie’s love potion. Who wouldn’t?

  Madison puts Ryder’s head on the dresser and picks up the bottle. “Maybe we could just put one little, teeny drop in. How bad could that be?”

  I sigh. “It could be really bad,” I tell her. “Don’t you remember farting like a mule when you talked in Focus! class? Remember cursing like crazy and getting expelled?” I feel like a party pooper who doesn’t like having any fun, but it has to be said. “That was all because Sam and I used magic we didn’t understand.”

  “Well, we don’t know if that’s really true—” Madison begins, but I cut her off.

  “I believe it,” I tell her. “And I promised myself I wouldn’t use the potion until Uncle Arnie tells me how it works. I need to do it that way.” I surprise myself with how serious I sound. “I have to do it that way.”

  Madison sighs and turns the Ryder head toward her face. “What do you think, Ryder?” she asks. After a moment, she turns to me. “He says it’s okay. But only because it’s…you and me, forever we’ll be, sailing on a boat on the sea of love…”

  We run out the door. “In a boat—sunshine all the time—in a boat—seagulls, foam, and brine…” By the time we’ve finished another verse, we’re in the kitchen and ready to go.

  Madison places Ryder’s head on the kitchen table “so he can watch the action,” and we open the cabinet underneath the sink. Most of our pots are severely scratched up, with rust or burnt patches of black on the bottom. Finally I spot a larger pot (a “sturdy” one, like the recipe calls for), which looks shiny and almost new.

  I put the pot on the stove and turn the left front knob. It clicks a couple of times, and I know to stand back because Dad taught me that sometimes the flames burst out a little bigger than you expect. When the clicking stops, there’s a quiet POOF sound, and flames erupt below the pot. I plan to turn them down, but Madison distracts me by asking, “Where do you guys keep the chocolate?”

  She’s already got her head in our refrigerator, scoping out the strawberry jam, which we decided to use since our strawberries look a little brown and hairy. “I’ll get it,” I say, sliding our step stool over and reaching for the powdered chocolate we put in our milk. It’s on a high shelf with the honey bear Dad uses for his tea.

  “Ow, it’s already hot!” Madison shouts. I turn to see her pulling her hand away from the pot’s handle.

  Shoot, I meant to put water in there first! I run over to look at the pot. The bottom’s getting black. I doubt Dad will ever notice, but I still rush to fill a glass with water and I toss it in the pot. It sizzles loudly and even spits a little, making us both jump back. “Why don’t you scoop some of the jam in there while I grab the chocolate?” I tell Madison. “But be careful; that pot sounds angry!”

  “Well, that’s no way to start a love potion,” she says to the pot, spooning jam into it. “You be nice.”

  I’ve got both the chocolate and honey in m
y hands when Toby squeezes through his dog door, galloping toward me and leaping up like he wants to give me a hug. I lose my balance and jump off the stool. One second later, the tin of chocolate hits the ground and explodes in a big puff of brown powder. “Oh no!” Madison cries. Of course, I didn’t drop the honey bear, because it’s plenty sticky on the outside.

  I take in the damage. Powdered chocolate is all over the floor and Toby. I brush some off him and drop to the ground to start scooping it up. “Is there any left?” Madison asks.

  I pick the tin up off the floor, and luckily there’s still some powder in the bottom. I join Madison near the pot. The strawberry jam has mixed with the water and is bubbling furiously.

  Madison squeezes seven drops of honey into the pot; then I dump in the remaining chocolate. You’d think strawberry, chocolate, and honey would be a good combination, but this smells…nothing but wrong.

  “I’ll add some more water and stir,” Madison says. “You get the onion.”

  I open the fridge, wishing the recipe had any vegetable but onion in it. Onions smell worse than farts, and you never get the smell off your fingers, and they make you cry if you don’t cut them the right way, which I don’t know how to do. I carefully cut a small chunk, hoping Dad doesn’t notice, since it’s the only onion we have. Then I cut the chunk into smaller pieces, tears coming to my eyes.

  “Is that onion ready?” Madison asks. “This is getting kinda messy over here.” Sure enough, our potion has become an unattractive brown substance that is bubbling up toward the edges of the pot. I should have kept an eye on it myself, but the stupid onion distracted me. One more reason to hate onions. Or, as Dad would make me say, dislike them intensely.

  Madison stands back as I sprinkle a few small onion bits into the mess below. I take over stirring for a couple of seconds, then turn off the burner. “I think that’s as good as it’s gonna get,” I say.

  “Which is not good at all,” Madison comments with a gaggy look on her face.