As I headed out the door, I was unlucky enough to trip over Betsy, who was on one knee taking pictures of the Eisenhower statue in the front quad.
“McGowan!” she grunted.
“I’m really sorry,” I said. All I wanted was to get out of there before anyone noticed how hard and lumpy I was.
“You ruined my shot!” She grabbed my shoulder. I tried to wriggle away, but instead of feeling her vise grip of a hand, I felt … nothing.
Betsy had grabbed my shell!
“What the heck?” Betsy retracted her hand and gave me a befuddled, slightly grossed-out look.
“Uhhh,” I stammered as I pulled my sweatshirt tight around my neck, “I-I’ve been working out!”
I broke into a run—Mr. Smith should’ve seen me!—and headed home. I needed to get rid of these powers.
Luckily I had an idea—but it was gonna get messy.
CHAPTER SEVEN
EMOTIONAL RESCUE
Back at my house, I told Charlie about my meeting with Ms. Watson.
“It’s kinda trippy,” Charlie said as he spun the Emotion Wheel I had “borrowed” from Ms. Watson. “What are we doing with it?”
I joined him on the floor. “I was thinking that maybe if I went through all the emotions, I could get rid of my powers. You know, purge them. All at once.”
“That, my friend, is a very smart idea!” he said.
“Thank you. Listen, Charlie,” I said carefully, “this is probably gonna be pretty intense. If you don’t want to hang around for it, I totally understand.”
“What? No way! I am staying.”
I picked up the Emotion Wheel and pondered where to start.
“How are you feeling now?” Charlie asked. “Maybe we should start on the easiest?”
That seemed logical, for sure, but figuring out how I was actually feeling right now? Man. I was feeling … everything. I was anxious and excited and terrified and annoyed and … hungry.
“Chips,” I said, jogging over to the cupboard.
“As much as I truly feel that ‘chips’ is a valid emotion, I can’t seem to find it on this wheel,” Charlie said. “Do you have anything in a ‘happy’ or ‘confused’?”
We laughed and for a second, everything seemed normal, like it used to be. Just me and Charlie, eating chips in my TV room.
“So, let’s get to it?” I pushed.
“We don’t have to do this,” he offered. “We can just hang out. Eat chips. Or, rather, crisps.” Charlie could tell I was nervous, and it was tempting to try to forget about my powers, but they’d still be there. I’d still be turning into stone and burning buildings down.
“No, we can’t pretend this isn’t happening to me,” I said. “Pick an emotion, any emotion.”
Charlie closed his eyes and waggled his finger in the air before smashing it down on the wheel.
“I chooooooose you!” he yelled as he opened his eyes. “Hmm. Grief. That’s an interesting one.”
“Okay,” I said. “I just need to think of things that I’ve lost.”
I closed my eyes and focused.
Crunch!
“Charlie, that isn’t helping.”
“Sowwy,” he said through a full mouth. “Think about griefy things, please.”
“I’m trying.” I sighed. “Do you have to keep eating right now?”
“Yes. I’m a growing man,” he said, “and I think I’m about to have a growth spurt.” Then he got serious. “How about the, um, loss of your mom?” he tentatively asked.
“I didn’t ‘lose’ her; she left,” I grumbled.
“Okay, Fancy-Pants Feelings Lady, what about the whole loss of your normalness?”
I thought about that for a moment.
“Holy baloney,” Charlie whispered. “You’re slowly turning black and white.” He was still whispering.
“Okay, maybe that means it’s working?”
“Shhh!”
I tried to focus on my loss, but it was hard. I kept thinking about Charlie shushing me, and then, of course, I heard:
Crunch, crunch, crunch!
I stifled a giggle and opened my eyes.
“Ha!” Oh man, I was black and white. I looked like an old cartoon. But now that I was laughing, something even stranger was happening. Every time I laughed, a tiny cartoonish black-and-white bird flew from my mouth and started flying crazily around the TV room. Soon there were a bunch of them, dive-bombing everything and leaving splashes of birdy mess—and their poop was in Technicolor—all over the beige shag rug.
“No, no, no!” I cried as I took cover under the coffee table. Charlie was faring worse than I was—he was being pelted left and right. He was holding a coaster over his head, but it wasn’t helping. Ewww!
“Veri!” he shouted, dodging the winged warriors. “You need to get control of your power back!”
“Get control of my power back? What are you, a motivational speaker?”
“No, change your emotions! Make them disappear!”
Not a bad idea. All right, Veronica, you are strong, you are powerful, I told myself. I didn’t really feel it, mainly because I was hiding under a coffee table while trying to ignore Charlie’s shrieks.
Okay, being powerful meant being strong. I thought of all the times I had been physically strong. I could carry all the groceries into the house in one trip if I wanted to. That was pretty freaking tough. My arms were beginning to feel warm, and they slowly puffed out from my body. I was feeling quite powerful, and my muscles seemed to be growing in response.
I did it. I actually controlled my powers. I flexed one of my gigantic muscles. So cool!
“Veri!” Charlie squealed from behind me.
I turned to look at him. He was still flailing on the ground as little birds pecked at him and pooed all over. Our floor looked like one of those splattery paintings at the museum.
Wait, it hadn’t worked? Suddenly, I felt really helpless. This was a disaster, and I had caused it all with my uncontrollable stupidpowers.
I reached out to him from under the coffee table, but I was stuck. My gigantic arms had wedged me tightly between the table legs. I grabbed a leg with my one free hand, and it immediately snapped like a twig between my fingers. The table toppled over onto me, and I pushed it off. It cracked apart.
“Crackers! Who knew that table was so weak?” Or was it me? Was I too strong? I gingerly picked up one of our TV remotes with two fingers; it smashed into a shower of batteries and buttons. I touched a throw pillow with one finger, and it exploded, spreading stuffing everywhere. The birds had quieted down; they were now darting between corners of the room, up near the ceiling, wary.
“Charlie!” I yelled, reaching out to him.
“No!” He crawled away from me. “Don’t touch me! You’ll accidentally mangle me.”
Charlie made it out of the room and shut the door behind him.
“Not that I don’t love you dearly,” he said from the other side, “but I’m just going to wait right here until things … chill.”
I looked around. The room was absolutely trashed. I carefully sat down on the floor, trying not to destroy anything else. I took a couple deep breaths and closed my eyes. I didn’t know what to think—except that I needed to stop trying to force these feelings and the powers that came with them.
Soon the squawking stopped, and I felt birdy feet on my shoulder as they landed on me. My arms had started to shrink back down.
“Yo!” I heard my dad bellow as he came in through the garage. Einstein’s nails clicked on the wood floor as they got closer.
“Uh, hi, Mr. McGowan!” Charlie shouted, trying to mask his fear with friendliness.
“Call me Rik, I keep telling you. Where’s our girl?”
“Um, uh. That’s cool you take Einstein to the office with you.” Charlie was stalling. “He seems more like a work-from-home kinda pup to me.”
Popping sounds filled my ears. Apparently, even the dive-bombing birds didn’t want to face my dad’s wrath. Th
ey had destroyed themselves, along with their mess. The wreckage I’d caused, on the other hand, was still there.
The door squeaked open.
“Veri! It looks like freakin’ WrestleMania in here!”
Like most benevolent dictators, my dad doled out a swift and fitting punishment. Charlie and I were told to clean up with the promise that he and I would have a “talk” once we were done. The only bit of luck on my side was that Dad couldn’t ever figure out the remotes, so missing one meant nothing to him. I was fairly sure he wouldn’t even notice.
“So, what do we do now? What’s next?” Charlie asked.
“I don’t know. I certainly can’t have anything else like this happen. I mean, none of our experiments have been successful, like, at all.”
“I wouldn’t say that…” Charlie looked around the room. “Maybe just keep cataloging your emotions and their corresponding powers in your sketchbook? Tick them off on the Emotion Wheel? Maybe they will still go away when you hit them all. It was a good idea, Veri.”
I reeled. “That’s about a zillion emotions. That could take years.”
“You’re a teenager—hormones will prevail. It’ll take about a week, tops,”
“Hardy-har-har,” I said.
“Got a better idea?”
I sighed.
* * *
Once the mess was cleaned and Charlie went home, I tiptoed upstairs to Dad’s room and gently knocked on the door. Time for the Dad Inquisition. I had no idea what I was going to say to explain away my stupidpowers.
“Dad?” I called out as tentatively as possible. He didn’t answer, but I could hear him talking inside. He sounded mad, which wasn’t unusual if he was on the phone. He hated the phone. This time he sounded angrier than I had ever heard him, though. I pressed my ear to the door.
“… well, there is nothing to say because there is nothing going on, okay? Period.”
A second later he let out a heavy sigh and swung open the door, leaving me standing there like I had been eavesdropping. Which was mostly true.
“Hi,” I said sheepishly. “Prisoner McGowan is here for her sentencing.”
Dad shook his head. He looked sorta sad. “Just go to bed, Veri. It’s fine.”
Fine? Wait, what? “Is everything okay, Dad?” Now I was worried. No questions, no explanation, no further punishment? This wasn’t how Dad acted. Ever.
“Yeah, yeah,” he said abruptly and then gave me a big hug. “You cleaned up the mess; don’t do it again.”
“I won’t,” I said as I watched him walk down the stairs. I had never seen my dad so out of sorts and I didn’t like it. Whoever he was on the phone with had gotten under his skin.
I scratched my head as I pondered the morality of what I wanted to do now. Dad had left his phone to charge in his room. It wouldn’t hurt to take just a quick look to see who he was talking to. Maybe I could help. I typed in his phone password (it was my birthday; I had programmed it for him) and looked at recent calls. The last entry didn’t have a name, just a number. The rest were either me or work or his gray-bearded biker buddies. I added the number to my contacts and went to my room. A quick Internet search and I had a lot of results for that phone number, but to get a name or address, I had to pay a fee. With a credit card. Come on! Thus ended my Internet sleuthery for the night. I had another day of stupidpowers to contend with tomorrow; I needed some rest.
* * *
“Veronica!” Derek’s smooth voice cut through the chaotic din of everyone fleeing school as fast as possible.
He also startled me. I wasn’t used to hearing anyone except Charlie and teachers shout my name at school. A metal horn, like the one I used to have on my bike, popped from my head, blaring Awoooa! Awoooa! I smacked it into my locker and slammed the door before Derek could see what had happened.
“Alarm on your locker?” he asked, raising one eyebrow.
I tried to look casual and leaned back against the locker. The alarm was trying to escape by bashing itself repeatedly into the door.
“No. Just a crazy ringtone.”
“Do you need to answer it?” Derek asked. Phones were really important to him.
“Nah, it’s probably just…” My mind had gone blank. Did I know anyone? This was taking too long. Just say a name! “… my mom,” I blurted out. I could tell my face betrayed me.
“I see.” Derek took a small step back. “Anyway, I just wanted you to know that Keesha can’t be on Spring Formal Club now.”
“Oh, that’s too bad,” I said. “What happened?”
Derek furrowed his brow, clearly not sure what to say. “Jenny, um, I mean, we decided she needed to go. That’s all I can really say.”
I nodded like I knew exactly what he meant. I had no idea what he meant. (Awoooa!)
“I mean, we were fine without Betsy, but having two open spots is just too much extra work, you know?” Derek said. “So, like, you want in?”
“Me? Really? You want me?” My attempt at laid-back? Not so good.
“Yeah … um…” He delicately picked through his white messenger bag until he retrieved a smoothed-out, blood-splattered sketch. It was one of my dance ideas!
“We found these and thought, you know, why not? Apparently, you’re cool with the work and stuff. So, meeting after school, ’kay? At Café Blasé.” Derek was already walking away.
“Yes!” I said before I really thought about it. Then a certain Awoooa! brought me back to reality. Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh! Did this really happen? Finally I’d be part of the SFC! I was so excited I didn’t even care about what could happen. Powers or no powers, I had to do it. I mean, this was all I ever wanted!
Still, the only thing harder than having stupidpowers would be convincing Charlie that I should be in the SFC.
* * *
“That’s a rare sight,” Charlie said.
“What?” I asked, even though I already knew what he was talking about. I was smiling so hard it was beginning to hurt.
“It looks like your teeth are trying to escape your face. Tell me, what do your shiny human teeth know?” Charlie demanded as we walked.
I started skipping. I have no idea why, but I just went along with it. That’s how happy I was.
“I, Veronica McGowan,” I started, “am now a member of … the SFC!” I stared at Charlie expectantly.
He shook his head. “No. No, no, no. What about your superpowers? Wouldn’t you rather investigate those with me instead of hanging around those bozos?”
I stopped skipping. “Well, yeah, but it’s also the only thing I have ever wanted, and it’s happening to me now. Now! How could I possibly refuse? Why can’t you just be happy for me?”
“Happy? Happy?” He grabbed his hair.
“Yes! That’s what friends do. They are happy for each other when good things happen.”
“You and I have a rather different definition of friendship,” Charlie said. “As your friend, I believe it’s my responsibility to look out for you, no matter what. Even if you don’t agree, or don’t like it, or grow some scary monster shell.”
“You saw my shell?” I pulled my sweatshirt up tighter around my neck.
Charlie gasped. “You had a shell?”
He was so excited, I couldn’t help but laugh and, of course, no longer be annoyed.
“Ah, the magic of friendship!” I waved my arm in the air grandly.
To our surprise, a small rainbow arced from my arm.
“Holy cow! I controlled that!”
“You did?” Charlie asked.
I wasn’t sure, but I didn’t feel out of control like I usually did.
“I-I think so. Maybe that means it’s almost over.”
“For your sake, I hope so,” Charlie said, “but for superpowers’ sake, I hope it isn’t.”
I arrived home feeling far more positive than I had in quite some time. Things were finally going my way. And the next stop was everything I had ever wanted!
If I didn’t accidentally set the SFC on fire
with my stupidpowers.
CHAPTER EIGHT
EAT YOUR GREENS!
Café Blasé was like a lot of things in our town—new, yet somehow old looking. Opened by someone who obviously had their glory days back in the mid-1990s, like most of our parents, it was a time capsule dedicated to round furniture, primary colors, and Friends. Still, it was the best we had. Our only other option was the local Parkin’s Family Diner. There we would, undoubtedly, be given colorable place mats and children’s menus. At least Blasé’s owner, Frank, had no qualms about selling overly sweetened coffee drinks to kids. Er, young adults.
I had rushed to get my things and plow out of school so I would have a few minutes at home to compose myself and check my nose and swipe on some lip gloss. My speediness seemed to pay off. As I got close to the door, I could see there were no other SFC members in the café yet. But there was someone there I really didn’t want to see. Not today, at least. Or, more aptly, not until I felt and looked and acted like a totally different person. An awesome, beautiful person who could compose complete sentences.
Blake.
This time I didn’t have a doughnut bag over my head, so I could actually see him. His hair was different, and better. Didn’t hang so much in his eyes.
Hooray! A rescue! The whole SFC had arrived in a single drove. I could just slide on in with them. If Blake even noticed me (unlikely), I would look wildly popular and possibly even normal. Not at all like a girl who spends her evenings struggling with nonsensical, useless superpowers.
“Veronica. You made it,” Jenny said in a more factual than pleased tone.
“Sure did!” I couldn’t help but sound overly zealous as I held the door for everyone. “Excited to get working!”
We passed the pastry case in a huddle. I stayed closer to Kate than either of us was comfortable with, but we would have to endure. Blake was sitting only a few steps away at the counter, and I needed a human shield.
“Yuck,” Hun Su said under her breath when she spotted him.
I knew the truth, though. I could see a familiar look in her eye. Forbidden fruit, baby. If there were polar opposites in the world, Hun Su and Blake were certainly them. Hun Su was petite, with the longest, shiniest black hair I’d ever seen. She was amazing with makeup, even though she didn’t need it. She was somewhat loud and talkative, which some people called bossy, but she wasn’t. She just had confidence in her opinion.
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