Bax groaned.
Andres clapped.
Nory grinned.
When lunch rolled around, Nory herded the UDM kids to their usual table.
“Does anyone have any ideas for acts?” she asked.
Everyone stared at her blankly.
“No worries,” Nory said. “Because I have one! I think Willa should make it rain! We could dance about with colorful umbrellas! And rain boots! Did you see my new rain boots?”
“Yes, Nory,” Marigold said. “We all saw your mysterious new rain boots.”
“Aren’t they pretty?”
“So pretty,” Pepper said.
“No dancing,” said Bax.
“If Willa makes it rain, I could freeze the water,” Elliott offered. “Maybe we could do an ice rink on the stage?”
“If Willa makes it rain, the audience might get soaked. Also, I can’t skate,” Sebastian said. “And I hate the ugly shriek of blades on ice.” He shuddered.
“I can’t skate, either,” said Marigold.
“So: no dancing and no skating,” said Willa.
“What about shrinking?” Elliott said. “Marigold could shrink something.”
“Definitely no shrinking,” Marigold said. “I don’t know how to unshrink yet! Let Bax turn into a rock.”
“No rock!” Bax put his head in his hands. “I am not getting wheelbarrowed to the nurse in front of the entire school.”
Nory patted him. She knew he was sensitive. “We wouldn’t wheelbarrow you until the curtain came down,” she said.
“No rock,” he said. “No way.” Bax was making progress with his magic. Since tutoring with Coach, he could keep his human mind when he was in rock form, and he changed less often by accident. But being able to hear what people said about you when you turned into a helpless rock was actually pretty horrible.
Andres called down from the ceiling, where he was eating a ham sandwich. “I think we can’t do snow or ice again,” he said. “Everyone’s seen the snow already with the snowball prank. We’ll never win if that’s what we do.”
He had a point.
But what else could the UDM kids do that wouldn’t go wonky?
Pepper waited for Ms. Starr in the Dunwiddle supply closet. It was a small room, but bigger than most closets. It was filled with mops and brooms, extra fire extinguishers, and bags of cat litter. You could sit on cardboard boxes. Pepper and Nory considered the supply closet their hideout. It was safe in there.
Today, Pepper had asked Ms. Starr if they could do their tutoring session in the closet, while the other UDM kids were at gym. Pepper thought it would make tutoring feel different from just staying in the UDM classroom. Maybe something different would happen and they would make progress with her magic.
Ms. Starr had said yes: “Let’s change it up a little! I agree.”
Now Pepper waited for Ms. Starr while eating lemon drops from the small box she kept in her pocket. Finally, the doorknob twisted and Ms. Starr bustled in. “Ooh, it is kind of fun in here,” she said, looking around. “I can see why you like it. I’m sorry I don’t have an office where we can meet. First-year teachers rarely get them.” She held a large box in her arms. “Guess what I brought today,” she said, her eyes shining. She sat down on the floor and opened the box. Inside was the cutest rabbit Pepper had ever seen. “She’s a fawn Miniature Cashmere Lop,” Ms. Starr said. “Her name is Carrot.”
Pepper leaned in. Carrot had long, floppy ears that fell straight down below her round face. Her body was also round. Her brown eyes were bright and curious, and her orangey-brown fur was as fluffy as a dandelion in bloom, the kind you made a wish on.
“Hi, Carrot,” Pepper said, so entranced by the puffball in front of her that she forgot to worry about frightening it.
“Greetings,” Carrot replied.
It talked!
Zamboozle!
Pepper flew backward, shocked. Her head banged a shelf loaded with bars of soap. A dozen of them showered down on her.
“Are you all right?” Carrot asked. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Pepper nodded. She was too amazed to speak.
Carrot put her paws on the edge of the box, standing on her hind legs. “My uncle Alphonse got hit on the head by a bar of soap. After that he was cross-eyed and ate nothing but apple slices for the rest of his life. I hope that doesn’t happen to you.”
“I’m fine, really,” said Pepper. “My eyes aren’t crossed, are they?”
She leaned forward and Carrot mirrored her actions, sniffing.
“They look all right to me,” the rabbit said.
Pepper swallowed. “You’re not afraid of me, are you?”
“Of you?” Carrot said. “No. Any student of Eloise’s is a friend of mine. And you smell delightfully of citrus.” She wiggled her nose. “Might I have it, perhaps? The lemony lozenge in your mouth?”
Since when do rabbits talk? Pepper thought. And did she just call a lemon drop a lozenge? Also, I guess Ms. Starr’s first name is Eloise. Huh!
“Carrot’s fairly unique,” Ms. Starr said.
“Fairly?” Carrot shook her head and turned to Pepper. “Lozenge, please. My dignity is wounded. I need soothing.”
Pepper opened the box of lemon drops and gave Carrot a fresh one. The rabbit snuffled it up. Her mouth tickled Pepper’s palm.
“I’ve been searching for a companion animal like Carrot for a couple of months,” Ms. Starr continued. “She’s a very special, definitely unique creature who can help you with your magic.”
“Because she talks,” Pepper filled in.
Ms. Starr laughed. “No. All rabbits talk.”
“They do?” Pepper thought back on the rabbits she’d known through her dad’s business, Furry Friends. Those rabbits had chirped and made snuffling sounds, but they hadn’t talked.
“Not just rabbits,” Ms. Starr explained. “Most animals talk. And certain Fuzzies can understand their language, though not all of them can.”
Pepper frowned. “But Carrot’s speaking English. Isn’t she?”
“Yes. That’s my Upside-Down Fuzzy magic. I enable animals to speak our language.”
“Really?” Pepper asked. “Wow.”
“It wasn’t easy when I was young,” Ms. Starr said. “When I was a girl in Fuzzy classes at school, no one had heard of upside-down magic. I had trouble turning my magic off and on. Animals near me would start complaining, arguing, or making inappropriate remarks, often in the middle of a teacher’s lecture. I got in trouble a lot. And animals don’t like me automatically, the way they like typical Fuzzies. So sometimes the things they’d say were very rude indeed. Especially basset hounds. You wouldn’t believe what words some of them know. I have no idea how they learn that kind of vocabulary.”
“You had trouble with your magic in school?” asked Pepper.
“Of course I did,” said Ms. Starr. “I couldn’t do lots of the regular beginner Fuzzy skills, like feeding unicorns. And my talent was very disruptive in a room full of animals. My parents were always supportive, but it wasn’t until high school that I found a teacher who didn’t think I should be ashamed of my upside-down magic. I learned so much from her that I decided to become a teacher myself.”
“Wow,” said Pepper again. Ms. Starr really did understand her UDM students. “But if all animals can speak your language when you magic them,” she asked, “then what’s special about Carrot? You said you’d been looking for a pet like her for months.”
“I prefer the term ‘companion,’” Carrot said.
“Sorry,” said Pepper. And then she opened her eyes wide. “Oh, I get it now. What’s special about Carrot is that she’s not afraid of me!”
Ms. Starr nodded. “Carrot is an extraordinary bunny. She is afraid of almost nothing, and she won Best in Show at the American Rabbit Breeders’ Annual Competition.”
“Can I pet her?” Pepper asked Ms. Starr.
Carrot cleared her throat.
“Oh. Sorry. Um, can I pet
you?” Pepper asked Carrot.
The rabbit dipped her head in a bow. “You may.”
Pepper wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans.
“It’ll be okay,” Ms. Starr said softly. “She’s prepared for you.”
Pepper nodded. She reached out her arm and laid her hand gently on Carrot’s head. “You’re so soft,” she marveled.
“Cashmere,” Carrot said modestly. She turned to Ms. Starr. “I can feel the magic coming from her, and it’s definitely stronger when she touches me. But it’s not that scary. It’s more of an unpleasant tingle.”
Pepper took her hand off Carrot.
“It’s like a bug bite,” the rabbit said. “No big deal. Really, those other animals should get it together.”
Pepper patted the rabbit again. “Yesterday I scared off a swarm of wasps,” she told Ms. Starr. “They were chasing a little girl in the park. I stopped them from stinging her.”
“That’s great,” Ms. Starr said. “You know, your magic isn’t a curse. Over time, you’re going to find ways to help people with it. I really believe that.”
Slowly, Pepper nodded. She really wanted to believe it, too.
That afternoon, Pepper took Taffy to the playground again. She didn’t wait for Taffy to ask. She volunteered.
As they walked along the sidewalk, Taffy asked, “Can we play with Violet and Zinny?”
“Zinnia,” Pepper corrected.
“Like the Biscuits BeBop character?”
“Yes.” Biscuits BeBop was an animated TV show featuring a raccoon ballerina named Zinnia.
“Is Zinnia named after Biscuits BeBop?”
“No. At least, I don’t think so.”
“There they are!” Taffy cried. She waved both hands above her head. “Violet!”
Taffy and Violet squealed and dashed off to the swings. Pepper stepped hesitantly toward Zinnia. “Hi again.”
“Hi.”
Then they didn’t know what to say.
“Taffy’s convinced you’re named after a Biscuits BeBop character,” Pepper finally mumbled.
Zinnia smiled. “Nah. Just the flower. But I used to be really into Biscuits BeBop. When I was little.”
“I remember that,” Pepper said. She had gone to ordinary school with Zinnia, Lacey, and a number of the UDM kids, although she hadn’t been friends with them then. She had mostly kept to herself.
“You remember?” Zinnia raised her eyebrows.
“I was into it, too.”
“Actually, I still like Biscuits BeBop.” Zinnia lifted her chin. “Go on and make me feel stupid, if you’re going to.”
“Why would I make you feel stupid?” asked Pepper. “Biscuits BeBop will be cool forever.”
Zinnia rubbed her forehead. “Sorry. Lacey makes fun of me a lot. I took my BeBop posters down when she wouldn’t stop bugging me about them. I got rid of my BeBop backpack, too. But my mom says I should just tell the truth, so I was kind of trying that idea out on you.”
“My friends tease me sometimes,” said Pepper. “But they never make me feel stupid.”
“Lacey is very, very good at making people feel stupid,” Zinnia said.
Pepper bit her lower lip. Should she mention Lacey was a horrible, mean person and that sometimes Zinnia was, too? Or was Zinnia’s confession a trap, to get Pepper to say something mean that Zinnia would go tell Lacey?
Pepper decided to try the truth. “Yeah, she’s extremely good at making people feel stupid.”
“This whole year, she’s gotten meaner and meaner,” Zinnia confessed. “Which I know you know, because she’s been so awful to you guys.”
Pepper scrunched her toes in her sneakers.
“She’s not all bad,” Zinnia quickly added. “I’ve lived next door to her my whole life, and she has a ton of cool ideas. In second grade, we dug this enormous hole in her backyard that was big enough to call a cave. We used to go in there and have picnics and play with dolls. It was all her idea. She got the shovels and everything. And we had bike races in the vacant lot down on Cherry Blossom Road. Lacey organized all these kids from our block. But then she applied to some fancy private magic academy for fifth grade, and she didn’t get in. Her parents were very disappointed in her. I think they made her feel bad. Ever since, she’s been trying to make everyone else feel bad. At least, that’s what it seems like to me.” Abruptly, Zinnia stopped talking. She stared hard at the ground. “Could you please not tell anyone I told you that? Lacey would kill me if she knew. I try to stay on her good side.”
“Why?”
“Well, you’ve seen how she treats the people on her bad side.”
Pepper got it. “I won’t tell. I promise.”
Zinnia blinked several times in a row. “I’m sorry about how I acted when Lacey made that petition to get rid of your class, though,” she said. “And about the flaming tennis balls and the mean stuff we said about the UDM kids. I shouldn’t have gone along with all that. I feel really bad.”
Pepper didn’t know how to respond. She didn’t want to say it was okay, what Zinnia and the other Sparkies had done, because it wasn’t. But she didn’t want to refuse the apology, either. “My parents named me after a spice,” she blurted.
Zinnia lifted her head.
“‘Please pass the pepper,’ big kids used to say,” Pepper continued. “And then they would! They’d pick me up and pass me around the playground!”
“That’s awful!”
“Or they’d have sneezing fits and say, ‘It’s Pepper! I’m allergic to Pepper!’”
Zinnia half smiled. “When I was in kindergarten, two girls tried to plant me.”
“When I was in kindergarten, two boys tried to sprinkle me! Over their lunches!”
“Zamboozle,” Zinnia said, shaking her head.
“Zamboozle,” Pepper agreed.
They got on the swings and pumped their legs. They zoomed higher than airplanes, while Taffy and Violet played dump trucks in the sandbox.
They stayed in the playground until the sun started to set. The sky turned blue and orange, and Pepper said it looked like mixed-berry ice cream.
“It totally does,” Zinnia said. She cocked her head to the side. “I kind of want to eat it.”
Pepper laughed. She stuck out her tongue and pretended to lick the air and said, “Delicious.”
It was Tuesday Night Tigerball on TV. Nory, Aunt Margo, and Aunt Margo’s boyfriend, Figs, ate dinner in front of the screen. Figs was a Fluxer, too, but he only did dogs. His favorite shape was a big, slobbery Saint Bernard.
Tigerball was played by Fluxers in tiger form. Tonight it was the Burlington Bengals swatting against the Mandalay Saber-Tooths. The Bengals had the lead. They were going to win. Bengals all the way!
Nory was hoping to get on the school kittenball team in seventh grade. Kittenball was what you played until you got licensed for a tiger.
When the game had been on about an hour, the phone rang in the kitchen. Nory hopped up to answer it. “Hello?”
“Nory!” two voices chorused.
“Hawthorn?” Nory imagined her older brother, age sixteen, with his short crinkly hair and always-clean sports jersey. Huddled beside him would be her sister, age thirteen, no doubt with a bat or a bunny perched on her shoulder. “Dalia?”
A flood of words made Nory’s head spin:
“We miss you!”
“Hawthorn’s entered the hot wax art competition at Father’s school, Sage Academy, but I don’t think he has a chance.”
“Dalia got a fish tank for her birthday with squid in it.”
“How’s Aunt Margo?”
“Is she still letting you eat Fruity Doodles?”
“We didn’t tell Father about the Fruity Doodles.”
“We got the invite your school sent us.”
“But what’s a ‘Show Off’?”
“Will you be in the performance? Are you going to do something wonky?”
Nory hadn’t known families would be invited to the Show Off. The
n again, at Sage Academy, where Dalia and Hawthorn went, parents and relatives were always being invited to spell-a-thons, fly races, and invisible diving competitions.
“I’m sure she’s learned a lot at her new school,” Hawthorn said to Dalia. “She’s not going to wonk out onstage.”
Nory gripped the phone. In the living room, she heard Aunt Margo yell. The Bengals must have scored. Part of her wanted to get back to the game, but Hawthorn and Dalia were her brother and sister. She loved them.
“We want to come and see you.”
Nory’s stomach suddenly felt much fuller than it had before. She leaned against the kitchen counter. “Did Father say you could come to the show?” she asked weakly.
Hawthorn and Dalia fell silent. Nory could practically see them giving each other meaningful looks.
“He didn’t exactly say that,” Hawthorn confessed. “But he didn’t say no, either.”
“I’m going to nag him,” Dalia pronounced. “And then when Father sees you being a regular Fluxer, he’ll be so proud.”
Nory’s legs trembled. She wasn’t learning to be a regular Fluxer. She was learning to expand the possibilities of her Upside-Down Magic. She’d been practicing her dritten with Coach, just that afternoon. “Urmp,” she said.
“Dalia, you’re stressing Nory out,” Hawthorn said.
Somewhere in the distance, in the halls of the ritzy, echoey house her brother and sister were calling from, Nory heard the sound of a door. She heard the jangle of keys and the authoritative thump of footsteps. Father.
“Ah, hey, we should go,” Hawthorn said.
“We should let you get back to whatever you were doing,” Dalia added. “But, real quick, did you get the boots?”
“What boots?”
“The rain boots! Aunt Margo told Father you needed rain boots, and so Father—”
“The boots are from Father? I love those boots!”
No way.
Father had given her a present? A good present?
For real?
“Well, I picked them out,” Dalia said. “He wouldn’t know you like purple. But he said I could, and he paid for them and boxed them and took them to the post office.”
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