“At least I’m not polluting the universe, like you,” I said.
“Nah, you’re too busy hugging trees. Or rather, making out with them. I’m telling you, you really should stick to mating within your species, whatever that is.”
“I would,” I said, “but unfortunately, there are no gorgeous, all-powerful, all-knowing gods around here. I’d even settle for a demigod. It’s a step down, I know. But alas, there are nothing but low-brained mortals here. And half-brains, like you.”
Todd snorted. He nodded toward Sam. “Who’s this?”
Sam marched forward, positioned herself between Todd and me, and pinned her fists on her bony hips. “My name is Samantha Louise Pickler, not that it’s any of your business, because you are a rude, ugly fart-face.”
Even though Sam had her back to me, I covered my huge grin with my hand. I knew I was supposed to correct her, but I couldn’t. She was too freaking adorable.
Todd was grinning too. He put his fists on his hips just like her. “Well, I think it’s rude to call someone a rude, ugly fart-face.”
“Well, I don’t care what you think.”
“Really? You should.”
“WHY?”
Todd licked his lips and crossed his arms. “Because I have a feeling you and I are going to get to know each other.” He looked at me. “That right, Princess? Is this the kid?”
I said, “Sí, Señor.”
I walked up to Sam and wrapped my arms around her shoulders from behind. She didn’t move an inch from her warrior stance. I pointed to Todd. “That, Sam, is Todd Harding. We have to do this lame school project together where we earn money. We don’t like it. But for now we have to do it. So Todd is going to help me babysit for you. Your parents okayed it. Todd, Sam. Sam, Todd.”
Sam tilted her head toward mine. She kept her eyes drilled on Todd and whispered softly, “He shouldn’t say such mean things to you, Fiona. It is truly tacky.”
I whispered back, “Believe me, I know. But I need you to hang here, okay? As a favor to me?”
Todd kept slightly rotating his head left and right, trying to hear us.
“Please?” I whispered. “I’m gonna need all the help I can get in this situation.”
I felt Sam’s posture soften beneath my embrace. “Fine.” She dropped her arms, shrugged herself out of my hold, and marched up to Todd. “Hello. My name is Samantha Louise Pickler.” She stuck out her right hand and tossed her head. “You may call me Sam.”
Todd shook her hand. “Nice to meet you, Sam. My name is Todd. You may call me Todd.” Sam looked back at me and rolled her eyes. I shooed her on.
“Pleasure to meet you, Todd.” She dropped his hand, swiveled on her heel, and strode back to me.
I mouthed, Thank you.
“So, you were planning to work without me tonight, huh?” Todd said. “Funny you forgot to mention it. Trying to skim a little off the top for yourself?”
“No,” I said. “I just hadn’t had a chance to ask them about you yet.”
“You just said they okayed it.”
“Yes, Todd, they did—fifteen minutes ago. I asked them fifteen minutes ago, and they said yes. I’m sorry I didn’t send you a Bat Signal or something.”
Todd clapped his hands once and motioned up the street. “Great. Then let’s go.”
“Uhhh . . . ’scuse me?” I said. Holy crap, Todd was going to come over and babysit right now. Must stop. Code Red. “Go? Nononono. Aren’t you busy? Don’t you have to take Amanda out for . . . something?”
“Nope. Nope.”
“Don’t have plans? Out with your friends? Big guys’ night?”
“Nope. Nothing. My schedule is wiiiide open. I’ve got the whole night free to spend with you two charming ladies.”
He said “charming ladies” sarcastically, but I let it go. I pride myself on self-control. And I could tell that he wasn’t going to give in. “Fine. Whatever,” I muttered. “Let’s go.”
CHAPTER 10
WE WALKED BACK UP THE STREET TOWARD SAM’S house. Todd lagged behind to call his parents to say where he was going. I held hands with Sam and jumped over the sidewalk cracks. A bullfrog started croaking somewhere, and the sun dipped below the horizon and winked out. The sky turned salmon, and the air had that damp coolness that comes with late-summer evenings.
“What’s your project about?” Sam asked.
“It’s a long story,” I said.
“Tell me.”
I never could keep a secret from Sam. “We’re supposed to pretend we’re married. Do stuff together. Figure out money, how to earn it and spend it. It’s stupid.”
“Why did you marry him? Why didn’t you marry that guy you like, what’s his name? Oh, Gabe! Why didn’t you marry Gabe?”
Sam twisted around as I tried to clamp my hand over her mouth. “Shhhhh,” I hissed. “Please don’t say anything about that in front of Todd,” I whispered.
“Okay. Sorry, Fiona,” Sam said. “Do you think he heard?”
I glanced back to see if Todd showed any signs that he’d been listening. He wasn’t on his phone anymore, but he wasn’t that close, either. “I hope not,” I said.
Todd called out, “Where is this place?” kind of loudly, so I thought maybe he was too far back to have heard us.
“It’s right here,” Sam said, running out of my reach and up to the door. When we got inside, she raced to the kitchen. Todd and I followed her. I walked over to the pantry and grabbed a jar of popcorn. “Where are we going tonight?” I asked.
“Going? What d’you mean?” Todd asked.
I explained to Todd that every time Sam and I watched a movie (which was every time I babysat), we made popcorn flavored with some international spice or seasoning. International Corn, we called it. Sometimes we hit a winner, like the time we’d popped the corn in sesame and peanut oil and seasoned it with Chinese five-spice powder. But other times we had to dump the bowl. Like when we’d wanted to visit Germany, so we’d popped the corn in sausage fat and tossed it with drained sauerkraut. Über-vomit.
“I was thinking Italy,” Sam said, spinning the lazy Susan in the corner cupboard where her mother kept the spices. “We’ve got a packet of dry Italian dressing in here somewhere. Here it is.”
“Mmmm,” I said, “you know what would go great with that? Mini pizzas. We can use bread for crust. Do you have any cheese?”
Sam opened the fridge and checked the deli drawer. “Nope. Wait, there’s cottage cheese.”
I shrugged. “We could try it. How about pizza sauce?”
Sam rifled through the pantry. “Nope. No pizza sauce.”
“Spaghetti sauce?” Todd suggested.
“Nope.”
“Tomato paste?” I asked.
Sam pulled the fridge open again. “We have ketchup.”
I paused a moment to consider the palatability of bread topped with ketchup and cottage cheese. Questionable. “We’ll dump on lots of garlic salt and oregano. You do the pizzas. I’ll get the popcorn going.” I pulled out the soup pot and poured olive oil in the bottom. I added a layer of popcorn kernels, slipped on the lid, and set the pot over medium-high heat. Todd leaned on the counter and watched. How typical that he wouldn’t help cook. “Hey Sam, how’d your first few days of school go?” I asked.
“Well. First of all, Ginny and I are not friends anymore.”
“What?” Ginny Genovese was Sam’s best friend. Her one true friend. Ginny was Sam’s Marcie. “What happened?”
Sam slapped three slices of white bread onto the toaster oven baking sheet. She squeezed ketchup on them and began spreading it with a spoon. “Well. There’s this new girl, Olivia Purdy. And she has a really big house with a pool and a big-screen TV and everything. She’s really rich or something, I guess. So Ginny decides that she wants to be this girl’s best friend so she can use her pool and all. So she goes to Olivia and says that the other girls, me included, are all jerks. And she will show Olivia around and stuff. And not to be friends with an
yone else and neither would she. They’d be best friends.”
“How did you hear all that?” Todd asked. As if he cared.
She glared at Todd and finally answered him. “Ginny told me.” She sprinkled garlic salt and oregano over the ketchup.
“She told you?” I cried. “She told you that she said all the other girls were jerks?”
“Well, no. That part I heard from Dominick Mancuso. He heard it on the bus from Olivia’s older sister. But Ginny told me about the part where she and Olivia were going to be best friends and everything.” Sam swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand and then stood at the counter with her arms crossed. She was crying. I left the pot and wrapped my body around her. “I am so sorry, sweetie,” I said.
I heard the popcorn oil sizzling and the first kernels pop. Before I could get back to the stove, Todd stepped in and started sliding the pot back and forth. The popping reached a fierce crescendo, and when it finally subsided, he moved the pot to a cool burner and shut off the hot one.
I kissed Sam on the back of her head and went over to the stove. I crossed my arms and tapped my foot on the floor until Todd moved out of the way. I opened the pot and sprinkled the dry Italian dressing over the hot popcorn. I put the lid back on, shook the pot, and said, “I cannot believe Ginny would do that to you.”
Sam straightened up and dug a spoon into the container of cottage cheese. “It was truly tacky.” She dolloped the cheese onto the pizzas and slipped them into the toaster oven to broil.
“It was truly tacky,” I said. “And anyone who would do that is not worthy of Samantha Pickler’s friendship.” She shrugged.
“Hey, you know what you should do?” Todd said. “You should put a curse on her.”
I rolled my eyes, but Sam turned to Todd and smiled. “Really?”
“Sure,” he said. “Send her some bad mojo.”
Sam’s face lit up. “Yeah, voodoo style. Do you know how to do it? Or do you, Fiona?”
I shrugged. Then gave Todd the stink-eye. I didn’t trust him for a second.
Todd said, “We can wing it. Have you got anything that belongs to her?”
“No,” Sam said. “Wait, yes! I borrowed a bracelet from her a couple of weeks ago. Will that work?”
“Might as well try,” Todd said.
Sam tripped upstairs for the bracelet.
“Have any candles?” Todd asked.
I wheeled around on him. “Why are you being so nice?”
“I’m not being nice,” he said. “I’m just bored, Princess.”
I stuck my finger right in Todd’s face. “Listen, Señor Shitslacks. If you do anything to upset that kid, I am personally going to castrate you.”
“Quit talking about my balls. You’re turning me on.”
“You are disgusting.”
He smacked my finger away. “Just get a candle,” he said. “Is there paper anywhere? And a marker or something?”
I pointed to the junk drawer but kept my eyes on him. “In there.” I glowered at him on my way to the dining room to rummage around in the hutch for candles. The only one I could find was a cinnamon-and-cranberry-scented one called “Heartful Home.” Not exactly voodoo material. Oh well. We weren’t exactly voodoo priests and priestesses either. Or witches. Or hex putters. Or whatever.
Todd found a piece of paper and a black marker and drew a large circle with a pentagram inside it. Sam came barreling into the kitchen. “Here.” She handed the bracelet to Todd. A silver chain with little purple stones dangling like charms.
“That’s pretty,” I said.
“Well, I’m not keeping it. Let’s put a curse on her and a curse on the bracelet and then I’ll give it back to her and she’ll get a double dose of evil.”
“I like the way you think,” Todd said.
I lit the candle and Sam turned out the lights. The three of us sat on the floor with the pentagram between us. I set the candle in the middle of the star. I had no clue what I was doing, but it looked spooky enough.
Todd held out the bracelet. “Everybody grab hold,” he said. We held it above the flame. “Now bow your head.” Then he let loose with the bull. “Attention, spirits of the otherworld! We call upon you in this time of need. Young Samantha has been wronged by another, the owner of this worldly possession.” We lifted the bracelet higher.
Sam chimed in. “Hail, gods of friendship and loyalty!”
“Yes, gods!” Todd called. “We humbly request that you wield your devastating power upon—what was her name?”
“Ginny Genovese,” I whispered between clenched teeth.
“Upon Ginny Genovese! And bring her to her knees!”
“Give it to her! Give it to her good!” Sam cried.
We stretched our arms as high as we could, suspending the bracelet above our heads. Todd started to lower it, and Sam and I followed. I decided to jump in. “Unleash your powers, oh, great ones,” I said. “Bring unto Ginny Genovese the pain she brought to our dear sister Samantha. Use this bracelet as a vehicle to carry your curse and all of your wrath. Deliver it to Ginny as we deliver this trinket to her.”
“No mercy!” Sam cried.
Todd said, “By the powers of everything good, loyal, and true, we hereby declare this bracelet and its owner, Ginny Genovese, cursed for all time.”
“Or until we decide to let her off the hook,” Sam added. We set the bracelet on the pentagram and blew out the candle together.
“It is done,” I said.
“What do you think will happen to her?” Sam asked.
I cackled and rubbed my palms together. “Time will tell.”
The toaster oven dinged. The pizzas were done. Sam sighed and smiled. “Let’s watch the movie.”
But halfway into the movie, we heard a key click in the front door lock. Mrs. Pickler bolted up the stairs. Soon after, Mr. Pickler strolled in, peeling bills from his wallet. “Sorry, Fiona. Oh, hi there. Todd, right?” Todd stood up and shook his hand. “Jake Pickler. Listen, Sam’s mom has a migraine. We won’t be needing you anymore tonight.” He held the bills just out of my reach, so I had to stand up to get them. Slight hint to get lost. “There’s a little extra here for your trouble.”
“But Dad, we’re watching a movie,” Sam whined.
“Not tonight, Sam. Head up to bed.”
“But—”
“Sam,” he barked. “Bed.”
Sam trudged toward the stairs. I followed her as I headed for the door. “’Bye Sister-witch,” I whispered as she turned and climbed the first step. But it didn’t seem to cheer her any.
“See ya,” she muttered and skulked up. “’Bye Todd.”
“See ya, Squirt,” Todd said as we walked outside. As soon as the front door closed behind us, Todd held out his open palm. “Hand over the cash, Princess.”
“What? No! Why should you get to have it?”
“Because the man earns the money, that’s why.”
“Ha! Screw that,” I said, stalking over to my bike. “I’m going to be the one with the job. This was my real job to begin with.”
Todd followed me. “Real job, maybe. But theoretically, I’m the breadwinner. Theoretically, you’re fat and lazy and stay home watching TV all day, getting fatter and lazier.”
I spun around. “Theoretically, you are a butt-head caveman—oh, I’m sorry, did I say theoretically? I meant really.”
He put on an exaggerated hillbilly accent. “No woman—or whatever you are—in my household is gonna earn cash money.”
I gaped. “You are not seriously that chauvinistic?”
“Hmmm . . .” He stroked his chin dramatically. “Maybe not in real life.” Hillbilly again: “But as your fake husband . . . yes, I think I am.”
I eyed him up and down. “I need to call the Guinness Book of World Records or Gray’s Anatomy or something, because I am standing here looking at the single largest asshole ever known to man.”
He snapped his fingers and held out his hand again. “Just give me the money, hone
y.”
Honey? Had he actually just called me honey? I was about to lay into him again when I realized I truly didn’t give a rat’s ass whether or not I earned any fake money in a fake marriage to a jerk I hated in real life. Let the poor bastard have it. “Fine.” I slapped the cash into his hand. Hard. “But it’d better all be there when you hand it in on Tuesday.”
Todd counted the bills. “Twenty-five times 150—damn, we already have $3,750.”
“Tell me you just did that in your head.”
“What? Easy. Divide 150 by four, then multiply by a hundred: 3,750. Duh.” Todd laughed. “Poor Amanda. She and Gabe pulled a 50. They’ll be lucky if they make all month what we made tonight.”
“Oh, what a shame,” I said. I grabbed my handlebars and booted up my kickstand. “Guess dating her means that you’re slumming now, huh?”
Todd pocketed the money. “Should I tell Gabe you said that?”
I froze with one foot on my pedal. Holy crap. He had heard. I felt hot blood pulsing up my neck and into my face. I tried to laugh lightly, but it came out sounding like a high-pitched machine gun. “What? Why? I don’t care.”
Todd tapped his fingertips together. “Oh, don’t you?”
“No,” I insisted way too forcefully.
“Okay.” He winked. “Whatever you say. I’m outta here. See ya, Princess Pisspants.” He strode off down the driveway.
As I stood there on one foot, my whole body buzzed like someone had scooped out my insides and filled my empty skin with bees. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even respond to the name-calling. Not that it really mattered. Because one thing was for sure: being called Princess Pisspants was nothing compared to Todd Harding knowing about Gabe.
CHAPTER 11
TUESDAY MORNING I STOOD OUTSIDE MAGGIE KLEIN’S office, waiting to go in for our counseling session. No sign of Todd yet. Just as well. I took out Pride and Prejudice to read until Señor Shitslacks got there. I must’ve been pretty into the book, because I nearly hit the ceiling when Johnny Mercer tapped me on the shoulder. “Holy crap, Johnny!”
He twitched his head and blushed. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted to know if you were feeling better.”
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