“I still like you.”
She ignored me. “—a horse maybe. Not a horse. I don’t know what. A fish maybe. It doesn’t matter what. It wasn’t my pet, and it didn’t like me and I didn’t like it.”
“I still like you,” I repeated.
“That’s not the way it was for me,” BeeBee said. “I mean, I was coughing, so it happened slower, not as dramatic. I drank the water and looked at her and I thought, ‘Oh, it’s Wilma. Why did I think she was so special?’” She looked at me. “Sorry. It’s just what I thought.”
How was I going to break through that?
“What was it like for you?” Daphne asked Nina.
“First I was stunned. After BeeBee stopped choking to death, I mean. Then I thought, ‘Points off, Nina. Many points off for letting Wilma Sturtz make a fool of you.’”
Ardis said, “Remember when I came to see your caricature and Suzanne barged in? Then, when she left, I said I was surprised she liked the drawing, and you said she couldn’t harm you. That was because of the spell, wasn’t it?”
I didn’t answer. What could I say? She knew the answer. But I never once thought I was hurting anyone.
Ardis turned to Nina and BeeBee and Daphne. “She said Suzanne couldn’t harm her because I was her protection. And I felt great about that. But she was lying.”
Nina nodded. “She’s been lying all along.” She faced me. “Is that what you brought us over for? To tell us about the spell after it ended? Well, you told us. Can we go now?”
“She invited us because she wants to keep us as friends,” Daphne said.
“No,” Nina said. “She invited us because she wants to stay popular.”
“I didn’t. I—”
“Then why did she invite me?” Daphne interrupted. “I can’t keep her popular.”
“I invited you because I like you. All of you. Listen. Believe me.” They had to believe me. “I wasn’t any different when I was under the spell than I am now. I didn’t have to be different. I could be the same old Wilma and everyone would like me anyway.”
“Maybe,” Ardis said, “but you don’t seem the same. Maybe I can’t remember what happened during the spell accurately.”
“Maybe you’ve been bewitched not to like her now,” Daphne said. “Maybe you were bewitched a long time ago not to like me.” She giggled. “Maybe it’s all a spell. It doesn’t matter what kind of a person you are. An old lady just decides whether you’re popular or not, and Wilma’s the only one to catch her at it.”
“Far out,” BeeBee said.
They all stared at Daphne, me included.
She went on. “Anyway, Wilma seems different now to me too. The popularity glow is gone, I guess. But she is the same person. And if you don’t see that, you’re going to miss out.”
Daphne made me feel like crying all over again.
“Maybe you’re right,” Ardis said. “Maybe she is the same person. But she seems different. I don’t know her anymore.”
BeeBee and Nina nodded.
“But you do know me. You’ve known me all along.” I wanted to scream, to wail, I like you. Like me back. Please like me. “Ardis, didn’t I help you stop being so afraid of dogs? Didn’t I help you with history?”
“Thank you very much,” she snapped.
I didn’t mean she had to be grateful. But what did I mean? After all, why should they like me? I had had fun with them, but they’d had fun with a person they’d had to like.
“Can we go now?” Nina said.
Chapter Twenty-six
BeeBee stood up.
“No. Wait,” I said. “Remember what I said before BeeBee started choking—that I’d pick you for friends out of everybody in the world. Being popular was wonderful, but having you as friends was the best part.”
Nina rolled her eyes, but BeeBee nodded. “We had fun at my sleepover. I couldn’t believe you brought your dog with you.”
“The thing is, if I met the old lady tomorrow, I wouldn’t ask to be popular again, I’d ask for us to go on being friends.” I’d finally said it. I’d finally told them what mattered to me now: not being popular, but being friends with them. Now they’d understand. It was true.
“You’d do it again,” Ardis said. “You don’t get it.”
“What? Do what again?”
“You’d still wish for us to be forced to like you.”
Oh.
She was right. That is what I was saying. But they should have a choice about liking me or not. After all, I had a choice about them.
“You don’t need magic for me,” Daphne said.
“Before today,” Ardis said, “if somebody had asked me my name, I’d have said, ‘Ardis Lundy and I like Wilma Sturtz.’” She sat down on my bed. “Now I don’t know. I mean, I think we had fun together, but I’m not sure anymore. Yesterday, you felt like one of my lungs, but now, the friendship seems like an illusion.”
“It’s not an illusion on my side. I wasn’t pretending.”
“She didn’t have to pretend,” Daphne said. “You had to like her anyway, even if she was mean.”
Ardis smoothed out a wrinkle in my comforter and didn’t say anything.
“And why would she pretend to be my friend?” Daphne added.
“I keep thinking about you,” Ardis said, nodding. “And about the caricature, and bringing Reggie to a sleepover, which nobody would do if they were faking to get in with us. And I get mixed up.”
“I was being myself, spell or no spell,” I said. “Look, Ardis, I liked you before the spell. You were nice to me after Ms. Hannah—”
Reggie started barking, and then the doorbell rang. I went to get it, closing the bedroom door behind me. Stay till we finish talking. Please stay.
I opened the door. Suzanne stood in the hall.
Chapter Twenty-seven
As soon as she saw me, Suzanne started laughing. “I was right!” she gasped between howls. “I felt something. . . . We were at my aunt’s. . . . I said I wasn’t feeling . . . I had to see . . . You’re not . . . anymore . . . You’re back . . .”
I heard my bedroom door open. Reggie bounded to Suzanne, wagging his tail.
She gave a final peal of laughter. “You are going to be so sorry you said I wet my bed. The anus story will be . . .”
Thank heavens I was me and not Suzanne. Even if I had no friends at all. But I didn’t have no friends, I had Reggie and Daphne—and maybe Jared.
There were footsteps behind me.
“And the bed-wetting story will be too!” It was Daphne’s voice.
I turned. Ardis and Daphne were there.
“Hi, Suzanne,” Ardis said.
Suzanne looked at Ardis, looked at me. I could read her thoughts. Is Wilma still popular? No, she couldn’t be. Then why is Ardis here?
“Hi, Ardis.” She ignored Daphne. “Did you come because . . . because Wilma, um, reverted?”
“What do you mean?” Ardis said. “Nothing happened to Wilma.”
What?
“We were just hanging out.”
“Oh.” Suzanne thought about it. “Well, I’m not busy right now. I could hang out too.”
Daphne said, “Who invited you?”
“You came at a bad time,” Ardis said. “Sorry. Shouldn’t she go, Wilma? I mean, it’s your house.”
I nodded, grinning. “Another time, Suzanne. Maybe in fifty years.”
“Okay. I’m going. But when you’re through here, Ardis, come up to me. I want to tell you something fantastic.” She turned to me. “Or you could come up when they leave, Wilma.” She backed out. Reggie wagged his tail at her. I locked the door.
I turned to Ardis and Daphne. “Thanks.”
We stood there in the foyer.
“I couldn’t let Suzanne be nasty to you,” Ardis said. Then she led us back into my room.
BeeBee was sprawled across my bed. Nina was in Maud’s chair.
“Suzanne’s too much,” BeeBee said, grinning. “She’s a riot.”
Suzanne just wants to be popular too, I thought, surprising myself.
“Look,” I said, going back to our discussion, “it’s not fair. If there hadn’t been a spell, you wouldn’t have gotten to know me, because you wouldn’t have bothered, but—”
“Points off,” Nina said. “Lots of people never get to know lots of people.”
“It’s not that simple,” Daphne said, “and you know it.”
“Right.” I nodded. They had to know. Especially Ardis, once known as The Mountain, had to know. “Nobody has anything to do with somebody who isn’t popular, and you can’t be popular if nobody has anything to do with you.”
“Catch twenty-two,” Nina said.
I frowned at her. “You say, ‘Catch twenty-two,’ and then you don’t think about it anymore because you said something smart. But it is that way.”
BeeBee laughed. “She got you that time, Neen.”
I wasn’t finished. “Nobody has anything to do with anybody who isn’t popular, even if they’re really okay.” I swallowed. “Even if they’re me.”
“You were nice to me when we studied for the debate,” BeeBee said, staring up at the ceiling. “And I wasn’t nice back.”
“I’m nice to kids who aren’t popular,” Ardis said.
“You wave,” Daphne said. “You say hi. Big deal.”
“Sometimes you do a little more,” I said. “You talked to me after Ms. Hannah read my essay. But then you went back to waving.”
Ardis shook her head. “This is so strange, Wilma. You’re different, but the same. I can’t get used to it.”
“Are you going to try?” Daphne said. “Or are you going to walk away?”
Nobody said anything for a few seconds. I felt like a dress in a store window that the three of them were deciding whether or not to buy.
I waited. A car alarm went off outside. I was through pleading. It was up to them now.
“Promise not to trick us again,” Ardis said.
“I can’t trick you again. It’s over.”
“Points off for not answering. You can’t be trusted,” Nina said.
“I promise not to trick you again even if I could.”
“I’ll try,” Ardis said. “I don’t know. I guess I’ll try.” A grin started. “But don’t give Reggie away.”
It was the first time she’d joked since the spell ended. I felt such relief, I could hardly talk. “I won’t,” I got out.
“I’ll try too,” BeeBee said. “It was out of sight, being bewitched. It was subtle. I didn’t feel anything or anything.”
“Are you two a package deal?” Nina asked, nodding at Daphne.
“No,” Daphne said.
“No,” I added, “but we’re friends. If I had a sleepover or a party, I’d invite her too.”
“You’re a great dancer,” BeeBee told Daphne.
“Thank you.”
Nobody said anything. I wanted to be sure of them, but I couldn’t be. Without a spell, I couldn’t be. The friendship would have to be their wish as well as mine. It would have to keep on being what each of us wanted, or it would end. Which was right, I supposed. Which was right, even if I wanted more certainty than that.
“I really have to go or my mom will put a spell on me,” Ardis said. “I’m leaving for camp tomorrow.”
“We’re going to Europe,” BeeBee said. “Dad’s taking me to see Florence . . .”
Whoever that was.
“. . . and Rome.”
Oh, Italy.
“What train was the old lady on?” Nina asked. “What did she look like?”
“I could make Carlos my slave,” BeeBee said.
“I could— Never mind,” Daphne said.
“Well, I have to go,” Ardis repeated. “I’ll call you from camp. Can you put Reggie on the phone? Would he bark?”
“I’ll train him,” I said, smiling.
When everyone left, I stared at the door for a minute. It was over. But I wasn’t the same as before it started. I knew four girls and one boy better than I had three weeks ago, and maybe I had four friends. And maybe one boyfriend.
I ran to call Jared. The answering machine picked up. While I left a message, I pictured him listening and not picking up because he didn’t want to talk to me.
Chapter Twenty-eight
Mom brought home cold baked chicken and potato salad for dinner. We were halfway through eating when Maud said, “The phone must be out of order. Nobody’s called Wilma.” She picked up the receiver. “There’s a dial tone. What’s the problem, Wilma?” She hung up and the phone rang.
“Give it to me, Maud,” Mom said.
“If it’s Jared, I have to talk to him.”
Maud gave Mom the phone.
“Hello.” Pause. “I’m sorry. We’re in the middle of dinner, Jared.”
“Mom! Please!”
“Can she call you back?” Mom nodded. “All right.” She hung up.
“What did he say?”
“You can call him after dinner.”
I stood up. “I’m done.”
She didn’t let me get away with that. And after we finished eating, I had to help Maud clean up. Then I called him. I took the phone into my closet so Maud wouldn’t hear.
“Where were you?” I said when he came on. “I looked for you after graduation.”
“Brad was graduating from Elliot. We had to get over there. Wilma . . .”
Here we go. “What?” My mouth was dry.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” So far, so good.
“Something strange happened. I went to the library this afternoon to get books to read at camp. I had a huge stack in my arms. I was taking them to be checked out when I thought of you and dropped them all.”
I forced myself to laugh. “Heavy thoughts. The books didn’t land on your feet, did—”
“It was more than thinking about you. I can’t describe it. I thought about you, and something was wrong. Something had changed, something had happened.”
What did he mean? What did he think of me now?
“Then the feeling went away. Like it had come from somewhere else, not from inside me. I tried to call you, but people were using the phones at the library, and outside I couldn’t find one that worked, and I had to—”
“I’m okay,” I said. I tried to change the subject. “Ardis and—”
“That’s not all. I ran into Ovideo. He lives down the block from me. And Timothy was with him—”
I swallowed. “And they thought about me too, at the same time as you. Right?”
“You know about it?”
“Sort of. What did they say?”
“How do you know?”
“It’s a long story. What did they say?”
“Well, they weren’t—uh, um—they weren’t—uh—complimentary. They both said they didn’t see why everyone was so crazy about you lately. I said I saw why.”
“You did?”
“I said you only had to look at the caricature . . .”
The caricature! He had to remind them?
“What’s going on, Wilma? Why did we all think of you at the same time?”
I had to tell him something. My heart was pounding. I didn’t know if I could do this, if I could tell him. But I couldn’t do it on the phone for sure. I had to be able to see how he was taking it, if he believed me, what he thought.
“Wilma?”
“I was thinking. I can’t talk about it over the phone.”
“A mystery. Spies on the airwaves.” I could hear him smiling. Something about his voice had changed, and now he was smiling. Then he said he’d be downstairs when I took Reggie for his morning walk.
The next morning, it took me forty-five minutes to get ready to walk Reggie. Without the spell, I had to look good. My zipper-neck T-shirt had a small stain on the shoulder. I wore it anyway after I tried on every other one I had. It was my favorite, and I’d worn it to the zoo.
Jared was waiting when I got downstairs.
&
nbsp; “You have to kiss me,” he said as soon as he saw me.
He didn’t need answers first. He didn’t need to check me out. I tied Reggie to the pole of a no-parking sign, and we kissed, a long one.
When it was over, I asked, “Why did I have to kiss you?”
“Because it’s Sixty-sixth Street. We may be breaking the Rule by not kissing continuously on Sixty-sixth Street.”
We walked toward the park. He took my hand and didn’t say anything else. Maybe I wouldn’t have to tell him. But after we crossed Broadway, he said, “The mystery. On the phone you wouldn’t tell me what happened yesterday.”
I chewed my lip.
“You look different today, too.” He stood away from me, still holding my hand.
“Don’t.” I waved my free hand in front of my face. I didn’t want him to evaluate me too, like Ardis and Nina and BeeBee had.
“You look good. Better, maybe. I give up.” We took a few steps. Reggie sniffed a hydrant. “What happened?”
I thought of just saying that we’d been at my house fooling around with New Age spells, but then I remembered how tricked Ardis had felt. I didn’t want to trick Jared anymore. I didn’t want to trick anyone.
“It’s going to sound completely weird . . .” I started.
“Not any weirder than what happened to me.”
“Weirder. You’ll see.” I made myself start. “There was a witch in my kitchen yesterday afternoon.”
Jared nodded. “Weirder.”
“But that wasn’t the first time I met her.”
“No?”
“Don’t laugh or I won’t be able to tell it. She’s very old.”
“Naturally. She’s a witch. Listen, Wilma, if you don’t want to tell me—”
“I don’t want to tell you. But I am telling you.” We followed the path to Sheep Meadow. I dropped Reggie’s leash, and he ran ahead. “Listen. It happened to Ardis and Nina and BeeBee and Daphne too. They were all at my house.”
“Did they see the witch?”
“No. But they know it happened. I told them why, and they believe me. If you talk to them, they’ll tell you. And if you call everybody who graduated yesterday, I bet they all thought of me at exactly the same second.”