Twist My Charm

by Toni Gallagher

  I wish I could drink a potion right now and shrink to the size of a cockroach. I’d skitter across the floor, underneath the door, and out into the yard and burrow into the ground, as far down into the dirt as I could go.

  I look to Roberta as if she could save me, but she gestures for me to get up there while she places other people in position. Larry bows, which I might have found funny on any other day, but now—today—it’s horrible. What if Lisa Lee and Kylie Mae were here to see this? They thought his stupid note was hilarious, and this is a million billion times more embarrassing!

  Then it gets worse: I look at Samantha and she’s staring at her sneakers like they hold the clue to something really important, like world peace or the best chocolate chip cookie recipe ever. When Roberta walks toward her, Sam looks up and says—with her voice all weak and wounded, a way she never sounds—that she hurt her ankle and can’t do physical activity.

  But I know the truth.

  I hope she doesn’t think I had anything to do with this. I hope she thinks Larry is just being his usual goofy self, not that he’s declaring me his partner in life or anything. I look closely at her to see if I can get any sense—any little hint—of how she’s feeling, but her face is blank. When Samantha was my best friend, I always knew how she felt, at least until she turned against me. I wish I could understand what’s going on now.

  Roberta actually lets her sit on the sidelines, making me wish I’d thought of this excuse first. This is another reason I need to be friends with Sam again. She’s quick and smart. I could use those smarts right about now.

  But instead I’ve got to square dance. With Larry.

  Roberta starts teaching us the dance moves, and almost all of them include the last thing in the world I want to do right now—holding hands! Sure, the boy just puts his palm up and the girl puts her hand on top of it, but…yuck.

  I’m holding hands.

  With a boy who wants to be my partner in more than chemistry! With a boy whose hand has a little bit of nervous moisture on it. Now, I don’t want to be rude about Larry, because my hand is sweaty too. Even worse, the smell of bay leaves is coming out of my hand…and my armpits…and the area under my nose. I’m a big, sweaty beef bourguignonne, holding hands with a boy.

  As we promenade left (which means walking in a circle back to our original position), Larry asks, “Are you wearing perfume or something?”

  “Sort of,” I tell him. Like I’m really going to explain my bay leaf bath while I’m do-si-do-ing, which means facing your partner and then circling around him like a goofball until you’re facing him again. How is this entertainment? This dance must have been invented to ruin kids’ lives.

  “I like it,” he says as we link arms and swing around in a circle. “It smells earthy.”

  Earthy? Well, if Larry were my boyfriend, I certainly would not appreciate that compliment. Then again, what else could he say? I don’t smell like daffodils or an ocean breeze or lavender air freshener.

  I think about how fun this could have been on an ordinary day, when Larry and I were ordinary friends. When we were only friends. If I had taken the bay leaf bath for any other reason, I might have told him all about it, and we would have laughed. But no, when love enters the picture, you can’t be free and natural and tell the boy what you really think. Not when he’s acting like this!

  Ryder Landry is probably the only boy who knows how to act around a girl. He might be the one person on Earth who could make square dancing cool. But unfortunately, he’s nowhere to be found. I didn’t get to read any of the Lander websites this morning, but he’s probably packing for his tour of Asia.

  Nineteen hours later—at least that’s what it feels like—Roberta says we’re going to wrap up by bowing and curtsying to our partners. “Thanks, Cleo. That was fun,” Larry says. At least I think that’s what he says. I’m running to the other side of the room and out the door as fast as I can. Samantha is close behind, pretending to hobble for the first couple of steps, then walking normally once she’s safely out of the Focus! room.

  “Hey, is something going on with you and Larry?” she asks me.

  Oh no! She’s onto us! Her voice is trying to sound casual, but this is Samantha, after all. There’s always more to it.

  “It’s a long story,” I say, still walking ahead of her.

  “There’s something weird going on! I know it!” she shouts after me.

  I want to talk to Samantha; I’d love to explain everything and try to be friends again, but today is not the day. Not until I’ve had a chance to put an end to the Cleo-Larry love story.

  —

  Because of the Bling Bling Summer Fling assembly yesterday, we have Recreational Wellness today. I usually don’t like running around and sweating in front of other kids, but who cares anymore? At least it means school is almost over, and afterward I can finally go home and stop smelling like bay leaves and be far, far away from the loving eyes of Larry, the judging eyes of Lisa Lee and Kylie Mae, and the questioning eyes of Samantha.

  I’m even a little relieved when Janet announces that today’s game will be kickball. It’s nowhere near as terrible as field hockey or doing push-ups or playing crab soccer. I’m actually not bad at kicking that red rubber ball. I’ve even gotten on base a couple of times.

  And I’m a lot relieved when Janet puts Larry on the other team. Unfortunately, Madison is called to be on that team too, along with her Bling Bling pals Lisa Lee and Kylie Mae, and I find myself sitting on the bench next to Samantha, waiting to kick.

  “I know what you guys are up to,” she says to me out of the blue. Sam can zero in on things that no one else notices, then shock you with a comment like that when you least expect it.

  “What are you talking about?” I ask, only halfway between playing dumb and being dumb.

  “Madison told me all about it at the art show.”

  That’s strange. If Madison said anything to Sam about the love potion, she would’ve told me about it…wouldn’t she? Unless she was really embarrassed for telling our secret. Then she might not.

  But I doubt she did.

  Of course she didn’t. No way. So I tell Sam, “She did not.”

  “Yeah, she did. But she said it didn’t work.” Sam gives me a shrug, like What can you do?

  I shrug back. Then, luckily, it’s time for me to kick. The ball goes straight to Ronnie Cheseboro, who’s playing first base, so I’m out. Lisa Lee, who’s playing second base, squeals and cheers for her boyfriend. I don’t really care whether I get on base or not; I’m just happy to be sitting back at the end of the line, far from Sam.

  Until Sam gets tagged out too, and she’s back next to me. “I didn’t want to get on base anyway,” Samantha says. “Who wants more running?”

  “Yeah, especially with your bad ankle,” I comment, but Sam doesn’t have much reaction. She just sniffs slightly and jumps back in with another question.

  “So what are you going to do next?”

  “About what?” I’m still trying to play innocent, but I’m not sure how long I can pull it off.

  “You know. What happened at the art show. Since it didn’t work.”

  “Well, we don’t know for sure it didn’t work. It maybe just didn’t work like we hoped it would.”

  Sam looks thoughtful. “You and I know a lot about that.”

  I nod.

  “So what’s next, then?” She’s not being so pushy now; her voice sounds more interested and concerned.

  “I don’t know,” I say. “We really need to do another potion. But nothing has gone right yet, and the book’s in Spanish, and our translations haven’t been great, so we don’t know which one might work.”

  “I knew it!” Samantha shouts. Our teammates stare at her, so she lowers her voice. “You’re making love potions!”

  “You already knew that,” I say. I’m confused by her excitement.

  She leans back with a proud look on her face. “Nope. I thought it was something like that, but I
wasn’t sure.”

  “But Madison told you…” Then, before I even finish the sentence, I realize that the brilliantly focused Sam has tricked me. Why doesn’t Focus! class teach you how to watch out for things like this? Learning how to spot craftiness would be way more helpful in life than putting together towering puzzles, and much better than square dancing!

  Our team gets its third out and we have to run into the field. I’m way out in left field and Sam’s in right, so we can’t talk. Which is probably for the best, because I don’t know what to say to her next anyway.

  In the distance I hear Janet yell, “Ball!” and “Strike!” and people cheering, but I’m not paying much attention. I’m busy wondering how Samantha figured it out. She saw us do something at the art show, but how could her mind have gotten all the way to love potions? I have to talk to Madison and find out if she said something….

  “Cleo!”

  What’s that?

  Suddenly a bunch of voices are calling my name. “Cleo! Cleo!”

  I look up, and the red kickball is high in the sky, coming right toward me. I don’t even have to try to catch it; I just put my hands out and it lands right in them.

  “All right!” my teammate Lonnie Cheseboro shouts from the pitcher’s mound. “Third out! Awesome, Cleo!” It’s definitely the nicest thing any Cheseboro has ever said to me.

  I drop the ball as our team runs back to the kicking lineup. “The one time you ever catch a ball and it’s got to be my greatest kick ever,” says Larry as we pass each other in the field. “But that’s okay. I love you anyway!”

  My heart drops through my body and down to my feet.

  He loves me.

  Larry loves me. He said it.

  Something has to be done. Soon.

  People on my team say “good job” and someone even pats me on the back, but I can’t enjoy the glory. I need to deal with Samantha. I’m glad she didn’t hear Larry’s big old proclamation of love on the field, but I still need to figure out how much she knows and how she knows it.

  She cuts me off before I can even start. “Sorry,” she says, “but I had to find out.”

  “That wasn’t right,” I tell her.

  “I said I was sorry,” she repeats. “Listen. I want in.”

  “In?”

  “In. I want to try the love potion too.”

  I’m not sure what to say. It would be a perfect way to get Sam to be my friend again…but the last time we did magic together, it had the exact opposite effect. We stopped being friends. We’ve barely talked to each other in the last month. I wouldn’t want things to ever go that wrong again.

  Since I don’t know what to tell her—and I don’t know how to get her laser focus off the idea—I kill time with questions.

  “What do you need a love potion for?” I ask her. Of course I know—the name begins with an L and ends with a Y—but maybe she’ll say it out loud and we can get it all out in the open.

  “It’s private,” she answers. No surprise there.

  “So was my love potion,” I tell her. The shock of how she tricked me is wearing off, and now I’m getting a little mad.

  “I’ll tell you someday,” she says.

  If she’s not going to tell me it’s for Larry, I try another route. “Is it for your mom?” Sam was smart enough to figure out our love potion; I wonder if she’s realized how it’s gone wrong between my dad and her mom.

  “Ewww, no. I don’t care about my mom’s love life anymore.” The icked-out tone of her voice makes me believe her words.

  “Then who?”

  Sam gets stern. “I’ll tell you later. So when can we meet?”

  This is just like Samantha. I haven’t even said yes, but she’s already moved to the next step. So I try to be tough. “We’re not meeting.”

  “You said you have to make another potion. You know me. I’m smart. I’m fearless.” She pauses, raising an eyebrow. “You need me.”

  I’m not sure we do. But then again, I’m not sure we don’t.

  “I speak Spanish,” she reminds me. Darn. That’s true. That could help move things along.

  “Let me talk to Madison about it first.”

  Sam considers this. “Okay. Let me know by tomorrow.”

  “I will,” I say, seriously disliking the idea of having to tell Madison how badly I just messed up. “But you cannot tell anyone else, okay?”

  “Nunca. Nadie,” she says.

  That’s Spanish. I wish I knew what it meant!

  —

  Back home after school, I wonder how to break the news to Madison that another person knows our secret. I sit in my room and listen to one of Ryder’s best songs, “Understanding Misunderstanding.” There is so much going on in my life right now, and Ryder knows how hard it is to be a kid. That’s what this song is all about.

  They laugh at us, they say we’re cute.

  They don’t understand, it’s hard for me and you.

  Life’s not easy, we know that’s true.

  They don’t understand, it’s hard for me and you.

  As I listen, I leaf through the potion book, looking at its illustrations and wondering which recipe to make next. I don’t want to pick one, translate it, and then find out it doesn’t fit the problem I have with me and Larry and Dad and Terri and Paige. Ryder keeps on singing:

  We don’t know what to do, we don’t know how to do it.

  Grown-ups don’t understand, they just tell us how we blew it…

  DING! There’s a text message on my phone. It’s from Madison.

  Can you talk?

  Sure, I write back. What about?

  Call me.

  Wow. I barely ever talk to Madison on the phone. Why would I ever talk to anyone on the phone when there’s texting? But I dial her number and hear one ring. Madison answers right away. “I have something to tell you,” she says. “I’ve been meaning to for days, and when I saw you and Samantha talking at kickball, I realized…”

  “I know,” I tell her.

  “You know?”

  “I know you didn’t tell her everything, but she figured out most of it. Then she tricked me into telling her.”

  Madison seems happy to finally tell the truth. Sam was grilling her mercilessly at the art show, and Madison only got away because her parents interrupted. “That was the first time I was ever happy to see my parents,” she says with a laugh. “But Sam probably would’ve broken me down if she’d had a few more minutes. She was like a squirrel with a nut.”

  “Yep, she’s like a dog with a bone,” I say, picturing her face on Toby’s body. Sam’s got her teeth in Toby’s favorite pork chop–shaped chew toy, and she won’t let go no matter how hard I pull at it.

  “Listen, we know things can go wrong. This is all about making them right again,” says Madison. “Let’s invite Sam over to my house after school this week, and she can help us pick a potion.”

  “She does know Spanish,” I say.

  “And if she wants to do a love potion because she likes Larry, that will solve your little problem,” Madison points out.

  I’m liking this idea more and more. “Are you sure?”

  “Sure,” she says, like it’s no big deal.

  Wow. I bet Samantha never expected she’d be invited to Madison Paddington’s mansion…but then again, I never did either!

  We say goodbye, and I put Ryder’s song back on. The final triumphant lyrics of “Understanding Misunderstanding” put me in a better mood. With Ryder, anything seems possible:

  One day they will trust us, we’ll climb that hill…

  They don’t understand now, but…but someday they willlll­lllll­l!

  Madison does some quick planning, and a couple of texts later, everything’s been arranged. The next day after school, Yvonne the au pair picks the three of us up in the Paddingtons’ SUV, and we’re off to Madison’s.

  Samantha is unusually quiet as we open the giant wooden front doors, walk over the marble floors in the entryway, climb the bi
g curved steps to the second floor, and head down the wide hallway to Madison’s bedroom. “This is the life,” Sam whispers to me. “I wish she had a brother!”

  “Why? Do you like boys now?” I ask. I know the answer is yes, of course, and I know exactly who she likes, but I keep hoping I can get her to admit it.

  “That’s a personal question.” Things are never easy with Sam.

  “Well, we’re about to pick a love potion together, so why wouldn’t I ask?” If she’s doing a potion for herself and Larry, then I won’t have to do a spell to get him to stop loving me! I can concentrate totally on Dad and Terri.

  “Why? Is there someone you like?” she asks. “Larry?”

  Ha! I knew if I set the trap, she’d mention him at some point. “No!” I tell her. “I mean, yeah, I like Larry, but as a friend.”

  “What’s wrong with him?”

  “Nothing,” I say, and I mean it. “He’s awesome. Why? Do you like him?”

  Samantha doesn’t reply immediately. This little pause might be my answer! I look closely at her face. Her mouth is about to open. She’s about to tell me the truth. And the truth is…

  “Here’s my room!” Madison announces, opening her door. Darn it! Sam’s attention becomes ultra-focused on the bedroom. She takes it all in, from floor to ceiling, from left to right. She probably feels like I did the first time I saw it—like she’s stepped into a fairy tale.

  “Where does that go?” she asks, pointing at the shuttered doors leading to the patio. Madison opens them and we all walk onto the balcony overlooking the yard and pool. The greens and blues below us are so bright, they look like they’ve been run through some kind of filter on the computer.

  “Oh, wow, we should’ve gone swimming!” Samantha groans. She has a nice pool at her condo building, but not like Madison’s. There may not be actual diamonds sparkling on top of the crystal-blue water down there, but it sure looks like it!

  “Next time,” says Madison. “Let’s go inside; we’ve got a lot to do.”

  Sam and I walk back in together, Samantha mouthing Next time with a smile.

  We settle on Madison’s clean wood floor. I open my backpack and pull out POCIÓNES FANTÁSTICOS. I hand it to Samantha, who doesn’t look very impressed. “Wow, this is ancient,” she says. “Why are you using this weird old book when your uncle sent you a love potion?”