The 11

by Kim Tomsic

  I picked up the flatiron with my hands shaking like I’d downed a triple-shot latté. Under the brand label Chi was the script:

  FOR A TOUCH OF MAGIC

  “No, no, no, no, nooooo!”

  Above the mirror, a lightbulb buzzed and my nerves charged. I snapped my head left and right, searching for the green-eyed delivery girl.

  “Where are you?” My voice sounded wild, feral even. Then I spoke to the flatiron. “Listen up. I put the kibosh on wishing, so what are you doing here?”

  The menacing object felt like a viper in my hands.

  “Oh, I get it, all right, ‘for a touch of magic.’ But I didn’t make another wish and I didn’t accept any add-ons from that stupid magazine, and I didn’t ask for the September edition, either. I haven’t even opened it. So go away. I’m not paying any more costs.”

  The citrus scent hit my nose first, and then the bathroom door slid open. “Who are you talking to?” Piper said, peeling back the skin of an orange.

  I jumped, waving the flatiron like a weapon before I let it clatter to the counter. “Don’t do that.”

  “What’s up with you?” Piper’s tone told me that she wasn’t only asking why I’d spooked up to the ceiling; it also had to do with my do.

  I turned to see my reflection. “Ahhhkk!” My hair looked like it had been styled by a blender.

  “Um . . . so Dad and I got the Chi for you at the mall yesterday.”

  “Oh.” I took another glance at the flatiron, nodding fast. “Right. Thank you.” I stuck a brush into my pile of tangled hair and gave it a tug.

  “We got a new outfit for you, too. I’m going to lay it out on your bed, so no peeking till I’m done.”

  “Thanks.” I smiled, took a breath, and softly said, “Hey, Pipes. Another bad dream?”

  “Yeah. But I didn’t want to wake you.”

  “You can, you know. Anytime.”

  “I know.” She dumped her orange peels into the trash, grabbed a Nordstrom bag from her doorway, and crossed from the bathroom to my room.

  I tugged at more knots, and after spending several moments wrestling a brush around my head, I found a bottle of detangler and sprayed its watermelon mist over my hair. Finally, the brush ran through. I pulled my hair into its standard wet ponytail and put the Chi in the drawer for another day.

  Piper came back in. “Do you want French toast?” Buttery scents from the kitchen floated to my room.

  “Two, please.”

  “All right. I’m going down now to check out what Dad’s eating.”

  The door clicked shut and I almost let out another morning yelp, because Enchanted Teen was sitting on my desk instead of in the backseat of Dad’s car where I’d left it. A cold chill washed over the room. “You shouldn’t be here,” I said, before picking it up and slamming it inside the desk drawer.

  The outfit Piper had laid out was a flowery, high-waisted miniskirt with a navy tank and navy flip-flops. She’d also left me a pair of small silver earrings. I dressed and then applied a single layer of eye shadow and some light lip gloss. Not bad. Not as great as a magazine model, but perfectly me.

  I dragged Piper’s pillow and blanket to her room. There in her trash was the blue jazz band flyer, crumpled in a ball. I sighed. At least Dad had tried.

  Archie’s tail poked out from under Piper’s bed. “There you are,” I said, crouching low. “What’s wrong, Arch?” I reached for him and he scooted close and licked my hand. “Why did you sleep in here?” He panted and licked my hand for a moment before backing farther under the bed.

  Ugh. Even my dog.

  I needed Hannah, not only for help with the flashmob, but also to feel less alone. She could put a positive spin on anything. Like the time when we’d ridden our bikes by the soccer field in Boulder, and I slipped in gravel and ate dirt in front of the entire Force team. Hannah had said, “You don’t do anything halfway, Megan. That fall was a ten out of ten.” It had made me laugh.

  I walked back into my room dialing.

  “Hi, Megs!” Hannah said.

  “What’s up, H?”

  “Everything! Guess what. Brooke and I are going to wear neckties to school today.”

  “Nice,” I said. “I’m wondering if you have—”

  “Neckties!” she repeated. “Isn’t that great! Like from our dads.”

  “Okay, so—”

  “We want to see if we can make it a thing. Isn’t that hysterical?”

  I sighed.

  “Maybe you could get everyone there to wear neckties, too,” she said.

  “For the flashmob?”

  “I don’t know. Hmmm. Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. Remember how you always said you were going to have the balloon guy on Pearl Street make a pink crown for me, and then you were going to dare me to wear it all day since you know I can’t resist a challenge?”

  “Sure, but—”

  “Well, I did it! Can you believe it? The balloon guy made it ridiculously tall and I had to wear it walking up and down Pearl and of course we ran into Ronald Miller and Jerry Plinker, and everyone from school. And—”

  “Hannah!” I hollered. “Can you stop already?”

  “I’m just saying I can’t believe we didn’t do stuff with Brooke last year.”

  “We didn’t do stuff with Brooke because she sucked. Remember?”

  “Oh. Geez,” Hannah said, “I’m sorry, Megs.” And she sounded sorry, until she added the “but”: “But people can change.”

  I wanted to growl.

  “I’m really sorry. I didn’t know that still bothered you.”

  Of course it still bothered me!

  “Hey.” Piper came bouncing into my room. “Oh, sorry.” She stopped bouncing.

  I waved her in to stay. “Hannah, I’ve got to go. Piper needs me.” I pressed END and threw my phone down on my bed.

  Piper stared at my face. “What’s going on?”

  Where to begin? My dog was ignoring me. My best friend had a new best friend. A new edition of Enchanted Teen was buried in my desk drawer and probably wanted out. I had to come up with the most impressive event in the history of Saguaro Prep tomorrow. I’d spent the past week acting like a cat. And if I messed with magic again, I’d spend the rest of middle school meowing! I was sick of trying to figure everything out by myself.

  “Piper.” I grabbed her hands. “Can you keep a secret?”

  “Absolutely,” she said, “but you’re squeezing my fingers too hard.”

  “Sorry.” I let go and we sat on my bed, me hugging a pillow to my chest to stop the anxiety from spilling over.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Well . . . there’s this cat clock in my history class. And the weird thing, it looks like one Grams used to have. And there’s this rhyme.”

  “Uh-huh?”

  “And . . . and . . .” Suddenly I stopped myself. I didn’t want to break my word to Grams. And more important, I didn’t want to get Piper in trouble with the Magicverse. She needed to stay safely away or she’d be meowing, too. A tear stung the corner of my eye.

  “Okay. So there’s a clock and a rhyme and what?” she asked softly, her face full of worry.

  “And, umm.” I had to tell her something else. “I mentioned the clock to Hannah.” I swallowed. “I told Hannah I thought it was good luck, but you know how she’s such a skeptic, and so she said it was dumb and I called her a Negative Newton.” All true, but that had been yesterday’s conversation and we’d already moved on.

  “Oh, Megan. I’m sorry. You guys will work it out though. Plus, Hannah’s wrong. The clock sounds cool. I can’t wait to see it.”

  “No, don’t! I mean never mind. It’s all dumb.”

  “It doesn’t sound dumb.”

  Dad whistled for Archie. “Breakfast!” he called.

  I jumped up. “You better open your door. Archie’s in your room.”

  “Okay. But if you want to talk later . . .”

  “I know.” I squeezed her hand one more time. �
��And Piper, you can always wake me. You don’t have to sleep on my floor or deal with a bad dream alone.”

  “Thanks.”

  Piper left and I brushed my teeth, loaded my backpack, and was about to stick my phone in my pocket when a text popped onto my screen.

  Yoona: HS w/ Rhena and Jackson was fun!

  Me: Super fun!

  Yoona: I hope u don’t mind I gave Jackson ur number.

  Me: !!! ☺

  Right away, another text popped up from someone with an Arizona number. Jackson, maybe? It said:

  Starbucks after school?

  Me: Who is this, haha?

  Jackson. ☺

  I typed, “Sure,” hesitating only to figure out how many exclamation points to use. I settled on one and pressed send.

  Piper poked her head into my doorway. “Dad says it’s time to load up and your breakfast is—hey, why the goofy look?”

  I smiled and the phone vibrated again.

  Jackson: I’ll meet u at ur locker after last period.

  I held in a squeal. “Thanks for the outfit, Pipes.”

  “Of course.” As she tucked her hair behind her ears, a stain on her hand caught my eye.

  “You’ve got a smudge on your hand or something.”

  She held it out. “Nope. That’s not just something. That’s a number one. You know. One more day till the flashmob.” She smiled. “In support of you.”

  CHAPTER

  33

  The number of Spirit Week flyers had quadrupled overnight and the hallways looked like they’d thrown up confetti. After third period, Ally said, “Remember. Bagel stand today. The cinnamon raisin is to die for.”

  “Sounds great. See ya.”

  When I got to fourth period, Mr. Kersey was sitting at his desk, reading on an iPad and taking sips from his icy can of lemonade. The cat clock remained frozen. Good. Who needed that kind of temptation?

  A group of Rhenites were gathered by the Smart Board. Rhena beamed at me like we were besties. “Hi,” she said all singsongy. “Come chat with us.”

  I took a deep breath. We’d had fun the night before. Bonded. But I still wasn’t sure I could trust her on school grounds.

  Rhena spritzed her wrist with cotton candy perfume, then dropped the bottle inside her pink purse. “Mojo’s was fun.” She was smiling, but as I walked closer, I could see the smile wasn’t the same as last night’s. This smile was wooden like the cat clock, and lacking an energy source.

  I forced my own smile into place, my spine tense. Something was up.

  Rhena sidled up to me and hooked my elbow in hers, her face feigning concern. “So . . . are you okay?”

  “Me?” I knew I was about to open Pandora’s box, but I asked anyhow, “Why?”

  She patted my arm. The Rhenites lowered their eyes. Rhena whispered, “Ally told us how you’re crushing on Jackson. The whole school knows.”

  My face heated up.

  “It’s okay. Most girls crush on him. You probably thought he might like you back, because of how nice he is. He does the whole showing-you-around thing, and that extra attention can be confusing.”

  I just stood there, wordless. Why would Ally tell Rhena, of all people?

  “At least the rumor is out there, so someone like me can help you.”

  My brain raced to catch up. “Help me?”

  “That’s right. Since it’s Thankless Thursday.”

  I looked from Rhenite to Rhenite. Thankless Thursday? Yoona kept her head buried in her notebook, doodling, but Shelby and the others seemed genuinely sorry for me.

  “Whenever a girl who is—well, let’s just admit it”—Rhena paused and patted my arm—“out of Jackson’s league starts crushing on him, he uses Thursday to let them down gently. He’s so nice. He’ll probably invite you to Jamba Juice or Starbucks for the big talk.”

  I felt like the stupidest version of myself. Not like a science-fair-winning Math Olympian, but a dumb girl who had a dumb crush on a boy who was way out of her league. My shoulders sagged. Why hadn’t Ally warned me?

  The bell rang. I glanced around, hoping Mr. Kersey would tell everyone to take a seat, but he wasn’t in the room. Most of the class headed to their desks, but Shelby and Rhena stayed in front of me, blocking my path.

  “Oh, did he already ask you to do something after school?” Shelby asked.

  No way was I going to admit it. “N—ghaaak.” My voice caught like I had a hairball stuck in my throat. I coughed and cleared my throat, trying again with a lie. “Well, sort o—ghhaaaaaaaak.”

  Rhena took a backward step. “Eww, if you’re sick you better not be contagious.”

  Slow down, I told myself. Breathe. Say you’re doing a whole group thing, not just something with Jackson. “It’s a grou—ghaak ghaak ghaak.”

  “What the heck?” Rhena narrowed her eyes.

  Shelby’s eyebrows disappeared into her bangs. “It’s a yes or no, Megan.”

  The honest answer slid out easily. “Yes.” I put my chin down and walked to an open desk and sat down in front of Turner. My hypothesis turned into fact. I couldn’t lie without doing something catish!

  “Excuse me. Pardon me,” Mr. Kersey said, dragging a ladder through the classroom door. He waved a couple of batteries with his free hand. “See, Megan? I’ve got it all taken care of.”

  Oh, geez, I thought, sinking in my seat. His timing couldn’t have been more categorically awful. Temptation wormed under my skin, and I sat there considering one final wish for the flashmob.

  “Rhena, will you kindly hold the ladder for me?” Mr. Kersey asked.

  He hiked up the ladder and handed down the clock to Rhena. She was holding my magic clock. Would she feel something special even though it wasn’t 11:11?

  “Just pop in the new batteries, please.”

  She flipped it over, and as she worked in the batteries, the expression on her face turned puzzled. Her mouth moved like she was reading something.

  I stood up.

  “Megan, please have a seat. We’ve got this.” Mr. Kersey leaned toward Rhena. “Hand it back up to me now.”

  Rhena arched an eyebrow.

  A shiver traveled over my skin.

  “Hello.” Mr. Kersey snapped his fingers. “Hand it back, please.”

  Rhena passed it up to him and I shook the paranoia from my head. No way. No how. Grams’s story was unique. Rhena wouldn’t know how to use it.

  My phone buzzed with a message from Piper.

  Piper: We’re all rooting for you. Can’t wait till Flashmob Friday. Go Team Free Spirit!!! #TFS

  She attached a photo showing dozens of hands pressed close together, all with “#TFS” written on them. The text was meant to be encouraging, but it only added to the pressure.

  The magical clock. There it hung, back on the wall. Ticking. Tocking. Tempting. And there was Rhena, watching me watch the clock, the lure of wishing like a ball of yarn waiting for me to chase it. T minus twenty-five hours until I was supposed to do a flashmob.

  Mr. Kersey lectured on Rome. He said something like “triumvirate” and I tuned out. The cat’s ticking whiskers and the sweet smell of cotton candy lulled me into believing just one more wish wouldn’t hurt. If I could just check off the flashmob wish, there would be a 99 percent chance I’d impress Ally, Jackson, my little sister, and the whole school. All I had to do was make one small wish.

  At eleven o’clock, Turner whispered, “Megan. Hey, Megan? Do you have a pen?”

  I passed a pen backward, keeping my eyes tethered to the cat.

  “Megan?” Turner’s voice drifted to me at 11:05. My arms felt heavy like I was under a spell. I didn’t budge. His voice faded while the ticktocking beat in my ears. The enchanted eyes moved in a hypnotic dance with the tail.

  “Turner.” Mr. Kersey’s deep voice floated past.

  I waited for that magic minute, stretching my fingers and testing the heel of my palm over an index finger. Pop pop. Rhena shifted and looked at me again, before looking out the windows
. She was watching me.

  Eleven ten. I tensed. Every cell in my body vibrated. Then the clock struck 11:11. I shouldn’t wish; my catisms could get worse. Self-control teeter-tottered. I clasped my hands tight. The seconds raced. Do I risk it?

  Tick, tick, tick.

  Do I?

  Tick, tick, tick. Rhena’s mouth was moving and I almost panicked, but there was no lightning. No popping. No way she knew how to make the magic work.

  At 11:12, I let out my held breath. Rhena stared at me and me at her. I broke first and laid my head on the desk. My stomach filled with a mixture of gratitude and disappointment. No wish. But at what price? Exhausted, I closed my eyes.

  “Hello . . . HELLO?” Shelby said. “Bell rang.”

  “Huh?” I lifted my head. I must have dozed off. Class was over.

  Everyone filed out of the room.

  I gathered my stuff and entered the hall, looking for Ally. Mia headed toward me, carrying a tower of books.

  “Hey, Mia. Let me help.” I took part of her stack.

  “Thanks. I have to get these returned to the library. Girls in the Stacks has a new blog post, and now I have a giant wish list.”

  We turned the corner to the library and dropped one book at a time through the slot.

  “Can I ask you something?” I said, dropping in the last book.

  “Sure.”

  “Do people here call Thursday ‘Thankless Thursday’?”

  She pushed her glasses up her nose. “Sure. That’s a thing. Why?”

  “Oh.” My insides sagged. “Never mind.”

  “Okay, I’m going to hurry and see if they have my books. See you in the cafeteria if I finish on time.” Mia rushed off.

  Forget the cafeteria. I was going to call my dad and tell him I was sick and needed to go home. I couldn’t face Jackson today.

  I took out my phone and dialed.

  “Hello, Megan,” Dad said.

  I intended to say, “Hi, Dad. I’m feeling sick.” What I said was “Hi, Dad. Meeooow.”

  “What?” he said. “Megan, are you okay?”

  “Um. Never mind.”

  I stuffed my phone into my pocket and headed down the hall to find Ally. Why didn’t she warn me about Thankless Thursday? And for that matter, why was she telling everyone about my crush on Jackson? Unless that was just another one of Rhena’s lies. Should I ask Ally, or would I end up blowing up our friendship like I’d just done with Hannah?