My shoulders tense. “I guess. Maybe. But I had to. And what difference does it make? They were going to fall in love anyway.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. But I’ll tell you what. Your shenanigans annoy me. A lot. I think you deserve to be punished. Do you think you deserve to be punished?”
A wave of dread washes over me.
“No!” I cry. “Don’t punish me!” But even as I say the words, a deep-down part of me does think I deserve to be punished.
Not for tricking Beauty into agreeing to marry Mr. Beast.
But for ruining Penny’s painting.
Jax lets his yo-yo swing from side to side. “Too bad,” he says gleefully. “You’re getting punished!” He clears his throat and chants, “With magic from north, south, west, and east, I shall turn you into a beast!”
I gasp. A beast? Wait! Wait wait wait! “No!” I shout. “Don’t turn me into a beast!”
But it’s too late. I feel tingles all over my body. From my toes to my head to my fingers. And then I feel like I’m stretching. And growing.
Growing hair.
Growing hair?
I’m growing hair! On my hands! I don’t want to grow hair on my hands!
My hands are covered in hair. My arms are covered in hair. My legs are covered in hair. I am still wearing my clothes, but every part of my skin is covered in fur! I am furry!
I hear a loud howling.
Is that me?
With relief, I realize that it isn’t. It’s Prince. He’s looking at me and howling. Which is also pretty alarming.
Jax is laughing hysterically. “You took away my last beast, so now you’re a beast!”
“But I don’t want to be a beast!” I say, and I realize it’s hard to talk around my fangs.
FANGS! Agh!
Jax laughs again. “Tough luck!”
I’m panicking and my heart is racing under my furry chest. “But I have to go back to Smithville tonight! I can’t go back to Smithville as a beast!”
“Too bad!” Jax cackles.
“But there are no beasts in Smithville!”
He hangs upside down so his purple hair flops over. “There will be now!”
I want to cry. I thought I had figured everything out, but now everything is a mess! I am covered in fur. I have to turn back into me.
“Wait!” I shout at Jax. “There has to be a way out. There’s always an out. Right? Mr. Beast had to get someone to marry him. What do I have to do? And it can’t be getting someone to marry me, because I’m only ten!”
Jax snorts. “You want an out? Okay, how’s this? Stop Beauty from marrying Mr. Beast. They don’t really love each other, anyway. If they break their engagement, he’ll turn back into a beast. Forever. But you’ll be free. Good luck! Hah!” He pulls himself up by the branch and disappears right into the tree.
Prince looks up at me. I look down at him.
He barks. Then he whimpers. Then he starts to howl again.
This time I start to howl, too.
I run straight back into the house and toward the mirror in the dining room.
I hear gasps all around me as I run.
“An animal broke into the palace!” Beauty cries. “Get it, get it!”
“A-Abby?” Jonah stammers. “Is that you?”
“Oh, no!” screams Mike.
When I see my reflection, it’s my turn to gasp.
Is that really me?
I raise my hand. A beast raises its hand.
I raise my other hand. A beast raises its other hand.
I stare intently at my reflection. I look like a dog. An upright dog. My nose is black and wrinkly. I have fur all over my face. I have whiskers.
I’m also really tall! My black leggings end at my knees. And my long and hairy arms look ridiculous sticking out of my orange sleeves! Oh no oh no oh no!
“Did Jax do that?” Mike cries.
I nod, speechless.
Mike runs outside, toward the garden. “I will get him,” he growls, except it doesn’t sound so scary now that he’s no longer a beast.
“I’m coming with you!” Beauty cries and follows him out the door.
“What happened?” Jonah asks. I see him behind me in the mirror. His eyes are huge and froglike again.
“Jax cursed me for messing with his spell,” I sob, wetting the fur on my cheeks with tears.
“It’s, um, not that b-b-bad,” my brother stammers.
“It is so!” I say. I try to breathe but am almost hyperventilating. “I can’t stay like this!”
“Is there any way to switch back?” Jonah asks.
“If I get Mike and Beauty to break their engagement,” I say through my tears. “Which I can’t do. You saw how miserable he was as a beast. He’s supposed to marry Beauty and stay handsome.”
Jonah squeezes my hand. “But, Abby, didn’t you say we sometimes change the stories?”
I take a deep breath. “Yes, but that doesn’t mean ruining their lives. And if he goes back to being a beast, his life will be ruined.”
My shoulders slump.
Maybe being a beast isn’t that bad, I tell myself. I glance back at my furry reflection in the mirror. Nope. It’s that bad.
I am a gigantic walking dog! With fangs! What am I going to do? I can’t go home like this!
Happy birthday, Mom! Surprise! I got you a pet. Me!
I feel sick. What if I’m stuck like this forever?
Maybe my mom can fix it. She’ll take me to her hair salon. Maybe a manicurist can fix my claws? And there must be something we can do about all the hair on my face. Waxing?
“He’s gone,” Mike says, coming back inside. “He’s a slippery little fellow. I haven’t seen him since he cursed me all those years ago. He just runs around different kingdoms causing havoc in people’s lives.”
“Poor Abby,” Beauty says, hugging me. “What can we do?”
“I don’t know,” I say.
“Should we postpone the wedding?” Beauty asks. “While we figure this out?”
“No,” I say quickly. “We have to stick to the plan. You guys need to get married. And Jonah and I need to get home.”
“We’ll think of something, Abby,” Jonah says. “We will.”
I am not feeling very hopeful. I stare at my reflection in the mirror.
A beast stares back.
By four o’clock I still have no plan.
And I am still a beast.
My fur is making me really itchy.
My shoes don’t fit.
My bottom lip is sore because I keep biting it with my fangs.
My clothes are too tight and too short.
Also, I am starving.
“Time for linner,” Mike tells me. “You’re going to want a lot of meals. Beasts need a lot of fuel. Let me make you some spaghetti.”
Jonah and I are sitting on stools in the kitchen. Beauty is downstairs in the basement, still sorting the books.
“Okay,” I say with a pout.
There are all kinds of things baking in the ovens and boiling on the stoves right now. Mike is cooking up a storm for the wedding, which will be in just a few hours.
He hands me a plate of spaghetti and a fork.
“Thanks,” I say. But when I try to use my fork to twirl my spaghetti, I can’t figure out how to use it. I have only three fingers. Why? I don’t know. I am missing my pinkie and ring fingers. Where did they go? I would like them back! How does one do anything with three fingers?
I drop the fork onto my plate with a frustrated bang.
“Forget the fork,” Mike says sheepishly. “It took me a year to learn to use a fork. Just eat with your hands. I don’t mind.”
“But —”
“I want to try, too!” Jonah squeals. “I love eating with my hands. Can I please have some spaghetti, Mr. Beast? I mean, Mike.”
“Sure!” Mike makes Jonah a plate, too. And one for himself.
The three of us lean over our plates, and we all eat with our hands.
&
nbsp; Much easier.
Normally, I’d yell at Jonah for having bad table manners, but there’s really not much I can say now, is there?
“There’s something missing,” Mike says, sniffing the food. “But I can’t tell. My nose isn’t the same.”
“It’s still delicious,” I say, slurping noodles. Mmm.
“Thanks,” Mike says. He takes another bite of meatball. “I’m still full from lunch, though. What a waste. As a regular man, I can’t really eat linner anymore.”
“Hey, Abby?” Jonah says, happily munching away. “Do you want to change your name to something with ‘beast’ in it? Something girlier than ‘Beast.’ Like ‘Beastette.’ ”
I spit out a chunk of meatball. “I do not want my name to be Beastette,” I snap.
“Beastella?”
“No.”
“Being a beast really isn’t that bad,” Mike says.
“It seems pretty bad,” I say.
“Well, you never get cold,” he points out. “Winter is coming. It’s getting chilly outside. You’ll be warm just as you are, but I’ll need a sweater.”
“I’d rather wear a sweater,” I say, scratching my arms. So itchy!
“I miss my sense of smell,” Mike says. “I feel blind without it. Handsome, but blind.” He stands up and sniffs one of his pots. “Cooking isn’t the same.”
“I guess. But I don’t really cook.” I try to slurp up a noodle but end up stabbing my bottom lip with my fang. I need to switch back. But how? “I wonder if there’s another fairy who can help me. Are you inviting any fairies to the wedding?”
“The only fairy I know is Jax,” Mike huffs. “And he’s not invited. He’s dangerous.”
“Good point,” I say. “I guess I could ask Maryrose. She’s a fairy who lives in our mirror. She’s kind of helpful. Sometimes. Maybe she’ll turn me back.”
Not that she helped Jonah regain his memory.
Maryrose does what she wants, when she wants it. We don’t know why she does what she does, either. Besides the fact that she brings us into fairy tales, she’s a complete mystery to us.
Maybe she won’t help me at all.
I’ll have to go to school as a beast.
Everyone will laugh at me.
Even Robin and Frankie.
And definitely Penny.
You can stop the wedding, a little voice inside me says.
No. No, no, no! There has to be another way.
There isn’t! the little voice inside shrieks. Stop the wedding! If you stop the wedding, then Mr. Beast will become a beast again and you will go back to normal!
I block the voice out.
Stopping the wedding of two people who are supposed to be together just to save myself would really make me a monster. And I am not a monster! Despite what I look like. Despite the fact that I ruined Penny’s painting.
I’m not, I’m not!
I finish my linner and march into the Great Hall to make sure the wedding setup is going well.
Mr. and Mrs. Butler are lighting candles and hanging white streamers. Good.
I head upstairs. In my closet, I find the pretty purple satin dress. I take a deep breath. I put it on.
It’s a little short. And with all that extra fur, it doesn’t zip up all the way in back. But it’s on.
I go to the mirror in the sitting room.
Sigh.
I look ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. The dress is way too tight and my fur is bursting out of the seams.
But what can I do? I’m Beastella.
My parents are still in the mirror, too, but now they’re in the corner. At least they’re still sleeping. Their clock says six o’clock. It’s getting late.
What do I do?
You could stop the wedding.
No.
Yes.
No.
I have to just go through with it. If I have to be Beastella for the rest of my life, then that’s my punishment.
I deserve it.
In my full Beastella glory, I head to Beauty’s room to check on her. She’s not there. Is she still downstairs?
I hurry to the basement. “Beauty?” I say. “What are you doing?”
She’s dusty and wearing sweatpants and sitting among big piles of books. “There is such great stuff here!”
“Yeah,” I say. “But are you going to get ready? You’re getting married in an hour.”
“I just have a few more books to look through,” she says.
She doesn’t seem excited. Shouldn’t she be at least a little excited to get married?
I don’t think she really likes Mike. At all.
I can tell her not to get married. I can tell her that Mike isn’t the right guy for her.
Which might be true.
Is it true?
“Beauty?”
“Yeah?”
No. I can’t. “You have to get ready. People are going to be here soon.”
I leave before I change my mind.
There’s a knock at the front door as I climb upstairs.
“I’ll get it,” I call out.
A group of people dressed in fancy clothes for the wedding stand outside.
“Hello,” I say. “Please go to the Great Hall.”
There’s silence. And then, “AHHHHHH!” They all scream. Then they turn around and run away.
Huh? What just happened?
Oh. I happened. They’re screaming because of me. I am a beast in a purple satin dress. I am terrifying.
“Come back!” I call. But they don’t. They keep running.
Mrs. Butler puts her hand on my shoulder. “Er, dear, maybe you shouldn’t be the official wedding greeter. Why don’t you go check on Beauty?”
“I guess so,” I say with a sigh.
“Snow?” she asks. “No dear, not yet. But it is quite chilly out.”
I hurry to the basement and find Beauty still in sweatpants, still reading.
“Beauty! The wedding is going to start any minute! You have to get ready!”
“Oh my gosh,” she says, jumping up. “I lost track of time. There are just so many great books. Should I bring some up for the wedding guests? Would they want to read them?”
“They want to see you get married,” I tell her. “That’s why they’re here.”
“Of course, of course,” Beauty says. “I guess I have to put on my dress. Give me two minutes!”
Beauty runs up the stairs and I follow.
In the entrance hall, I hide behind a tall oval vase as the guests continue to arrive. I don’t want to scare anyone else.
“This better be quick,” one of the guests grumbles as she slams her way through the foyer, banging the marble with her cane.
Oh! It’s Grumpy Great-Grandma!
At the same time, Beauty makes her way down the grand staircase. I gasp. She looks totally gorgeous. Not that I’m surprised. She’s wearing a long, flowy, silky white dress and a white veil. Her hair is loose around her shoulders.
“Ready!” she chimes, stepping onto the floor.
“There you are,” snaps Grumpy Great-Grandma. She points her cane at Beauty. “Where have you been? I need more bananas! Right now!”
“Oh, hi,” Beauty says. She bites her thumbnail. “Right now?”
Grumpy Great-Grandma bangs her cane against the marble floor. “Yes! Right now!”
Beauty pivots. “Okay, let me just look in the kitchen …”
“Beauty, no!” I say, jumping out from my hiding place. “You need to get to the Great Hall. You’re getting married. We can find Grumpy Great-Grandma a banana afterward!”
Grumpy Great-Grandma stares at me. Her eyes widen. She screams. She drops her cane, spins on her sneakers, and runs right back out the castle door.
“Guess her hip isn’t that bad,” I say.
“Careful, Grumpy Great-Grandma, careful!” Beauty calls. “Should I go after her?”
The music starts in the Great Hall. I recognize it from this morning. It’s “Slow Dance.�
� I also see bursts of color through the door. Apparently, Mr. and Mrs. Butler are using the disco ball.
“No, Beauty!” I say, closing the castle door. “You’re getting married. Now. Let’s go.”
“Where’s Mr. Beast — I mean, Mike?” she asks, looking around.
“I’m here,” he says. He’s standing by the kitchen door. He’s wearing a black suit with a gray sweater over it. He’s also wearing a gray scarf. He seems to be really missing his fur.
Jonah is next to him in a suit, the messed-up suspenders, and a purple bow tie that I think is on sideways. He looks adorable. Even Prince is wearing a bow tie.
“Hi,” Beauty says shyly.
“Hi,” Mike says. But he’s not smiling. He’s looking at his hands.
“Ready to get married?” Beauty asks.
“I, um, guess so,” he says. Now he’s wringing his hands.
Last chance, I tell myself. They’re not really in love. I can stop the wedding. I can undo my curse.
No.
I stand up tall. I will not break up their wedding for myself. I don’t want to be that kind of person.
“Let’s go,” I order. “Both of you. To the Great Hall. To your wedding!”
“All right,” Mike says.
“After you,” says Beauty.
Neither of them moves.
“Wait,” Jonah calls out.
We all turn to him.
He flicks his lopsided suspenders with his thumbs. “You can’t get married! If you break the engagement, Abby can turn back into a regular person.”
“Jonah, no!” I say. “I told you not to tell them!”
“Sorry, Abby. But they can’t get married. And that’s that.” He swipes his hands together.
“You don’t know what you’re doing, Jonah!” I cry. “You don’t know how fairy tales work. Mom and Dad will be waking up soon! We have to leave! And Mike and Beauty need to have a happy ending!”
“I know they do,” Jonah says. “But this isn’t it. They shouldn’t be getting married. Our plan didn’t work.”
“What are you talking about?” I say. “Of course it did! They’re engaged!”
Jonah shakes his head. “But they’re not in love.”
Mike hangs his head. “He’s right. The little man is right. Beauty …” His voice chokes up. “We shouldn’t go through with this.”
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