Extraordinary<li> (24 page)

That was the only part of the speech I could remember, and it wasn’t even quite right.

But Mutual remembered more. He kept on shouting.

I watched him standing there, hollering Shakespeare lines without seeming even a little embarrassed or afraid of seeming like a brainiac or whatever. Standing defiant.

I couldn’t remember any more of the speech, so I just shouted “
Yaaa!
” into the night.

And then Mutual shouted, “
Yaaa!
”

And then Amber and Jason joined in, shouting whatever they could think to shout along with us as we rolled into the night.

“Onward to glory!” Jason shouted.

“Remember the
Maine
and to hell with Spain!” shouted Amber.

“First we take Manhattan, then we take Berlin!” I yelled.

“Four score and seven years ago!” Jason shouted.

“I obfuscate by night!” Mutual shouted.

And then it got weirder as we shouted TV catchphrases, more Shakespeare, a couple of commercial slogans—whatever we could think of.

I don’t think Henry V’s army was exactly out to get a dance canceled using a wagon full of unicorn crap, or afraid they might have to face the wrath of angry vampires or fairy curses.

And I’m sure that when Henry told his army that their story would make them famous, he didn’t mean they would make a book like
Born to Be Extraordinary
that left out all the messy parts.

But the idea was the same.

We few, we happy few.

We band of brothers.

Mutual and I leaned over and kissed, again and again, as we rolled along.

I knew I might not survive the weekend if this caper didn’t work out. Or even if it did. Maybe lawyering my way out of this wouldn’t break the spell.

And maybe Mutual wasn’t going to be able to get through the diciotto, and I’d wish I’d become a vampire myself when I had the chance.

Anything was possible.

But at least if I lost, I’d lose fighting.

And if I died, I’d die an extraordinary death.

Maybe some people are born to be extraordinary, and maybe you can become extraordinary on your own, but if you ask me, it’s probably impossible. Unless you’re being raised by
a family of rich eccentrics (like the women in those movies usually are), you’ll probably need a few friends to help.

Friends who can keep you smiling and brave when you’re just days away from dying due to a fairy curse if you don’t complete some mysterious task.

Friends who are willing to risk their lives to help save yours.

Friends who are willing to take off their perfumed bandanas and shout into the night even when you’re riding in the stinkiest of all possible wagons.

And if you can make out with one of them after you’re done screaming into the bitter Iowa night, well, all the better.

So, well, it wasn’t sparks flying across the dance floor on the night I first felt truly extraordinary. It was poop. Lots and lots of unicorn poop.

After a few minutes, it was all over the gym floor.

There was some hidden in the vents.

More was dripping from the light fixtures, and more still was splattered against the backboards of the basketball hoops.

I used my crowbar like a baseball bat, balancing one big glob on the end of it, then swinging it to send the glob flying up against a trophy case. Then I used it like a golf club to spread the mess around on the floor and to smash some of the breakable stuff around the gym.

I’d been trying to get away from all that destruction business, but I figured it was okay when it was a matter of life and death.

I was probably looking at a stiff fine, and possibly a short
jail sentence, along with maybe screwing up my scholarships and stuff. The crowbar sure as hell violated the zero-tolerance rule, and we were vandalizing school property, which was obviously frowned on. I doubted that anyone would believe I’d done it to get out of a deal with a fairy godmother.

But it’s funny how little stuff like that matters when there’s a chance that you’re about to die. I just kept flinging crap all over the place.

And what
Music Man
song was running through my head the whole time? Why, “Shipoopi,” of course!

Soon, the gym was the stinkiest, nastiest place imaginable. There was no way they could ever hold a dance there without airing it out, which could take weeks. They’d have to cancel the dance—or at least postpone it until after Gregory’s magic had worn off. I’d be amazed if we didn’t miss a few days of school, too.

I can’t imagine I’ll ever live through anything more disgusting. I sure hope not.

But, yeah, in a weird way, I
did
feel beautiful.

When we had flung the last of the mess, I turned Princess loose in the football field and just left her there to stink it up while the four of us made a run for it, leaving the wagon behind.

I raised my crowbar above my head and yelled in triumph as we fled.

We jogged clear down the road to the Penguin Foot Creamery, the ice cream shop on Cedar Avenue, and stepped inside.

“Four grape sodas, please,” I said to the clerk.

He took a step back. I had forgotten that we stank.

“We’ll sit
way
over there, by the door,” I told him.

“I’d kind of rather you sat outside,” he said.

“It’s not safe out there,” said Jason. “If a couple of vampires who look like they have rods up their butts show up, reserve the right to refuse them service, okay? We’re on the run.”

“Will you at least leave the crowbar outside?” he asked.

“Done,” I said.

I stashed it outside the front door, then took a seat with the three of them at the booth farthest away from the counter, where we gave each other high fives and raised a toast to Fred.

“Fred,” I shouted, “this was all for you!”

“To Fred!” Jason called out.

Mutual and Amber raised their glasses, too.

“No shouting, please!” said the clerk.

One of the things I sort of regret about telling this story now is that we only told people that Mutual was Fred
partly
to keep Mutual from being harassed. We also let a whole generation think that Fred the vampire was a total hunk as a sort of tribute to him. We think he’d be amused. I kind of hate to let that go.

After we each had a long sip in his honor, I pulled out my phone and gave Murray a call.

“Any word from the guys in Canada?” I asked.

“They’re there now,” he said. “And all the guys from Will’s clan are accounted for and under guard.”

“Do they think it was one of them who killed Fred?”

“That’s still our working theory,” said Murray, “but we don’t know how, because none of them has a blood scent that matched the one at the scene.”

“So the killer’s still in town? And whoever converted Cathy?”

“Maybe,” he said, “but Will’s clan was the only group that we would have suspected would also go after the dance. If it was anyone else, it was an inside job. Maybe someone he owed money to, we don’t know. The important thing, though, is you’re safe, and we’re still on call. So don’t worry, okay?”

“Thanks,” I said.

I hung up the phone as Mutual finished his grape soda and crushed the cup against his forehead. He still seemed a bit bummed when we mentioned Fred, but other than that, I’d never seen him so animated or happy.

“Man,” he said. “I’ve been waiting for years for a chance to do something like that again!”

“You’re really seeming alive tonight,” said Amber. “No offense, but you sort of seemed beat up until now.”

“Hey,” Mutual said. “I was on a series of buses and boats for a week to get here. You try looking alive after that!”

“Nothing like vandalism to stir your spirits,” said Jason.

I suddenly remembered that Mutual had mentioned a twenty-five-hundred-mile bus trip earlier, at Jason’s house. I’d been so busy with the plan that I hadn’t noticed it at the time.

“So, wait, you took the bus out here?” I asked. “I assumed you flew!”

He shook his head. “I had to drive a tractor to Anchorage just to get started. Then the ticket got me on a bus to a seaport, a boat to Seattle, then another bus all the way to Des Moines, and a cab out to Preston.”

“Wow,” I said. “How long did that take?”

“Six days,” he said casually. “We had to stop at every little town with a bus stop along the way!”

That was odd. If he’d been on the road for that long before arriving on Monday, that meant he had already been on his way when I’d first met Gregory. Mutual had to have gotten the ticket before I’d made any wishes.

So the postcard on the wagon was just a crazy, unbelievable coincidence? Maybe Gregory had found it in the wagon earlier, when it was still wherever it was before he delivered it, and
assumed
I’d want Mutual to come back, and sent the ticket before I’d even made the wish?

That seemed like a stretch.

“Who do you think got you the ticket?” I asked.

“I sort of assumed it was one of you guys, actually,” he said. “When you said it wasn’t, I guessed it must have been … I don’t know. Someone who still wanted to kick my butt over losing the spelling bee in person or something. But I would have taken a ticket from the devil himself to get here.”

“It could have even been Mrs. Smollet,” said Jason. “She might have wanted you here so she could get Jennifer involved in the diciotto.”

“I thought about that, too,” said Mutual. “She’s probably my main suspect so far.”

Just then, my phone buzzed. The number came up as “unknown,” but I knew it would be Gregory before I even answered.

“What the hell is going on?” he roared. “I just heard something about a unicorn at the school!”

“What’s going on is that
you
just got lawyered!” I said. “The dance is never going to end now, because it isn’t going to start!”

“No one lawyers me!” he growled. “Especially not some stupid, ordinary little girl who isn’t even a freaking lawyer. I’m back behind the Creamery. Meet me. Now. You didn’t solve the puzzle, you just made things worse!
Worse!
You’re going to regret this, girly girl.”

I felt like someone had punched me in the gut. Then kicked me in the face and pulled me around by my hair.

I told Jason, Amber, and Mutual that I would be right back, and ran around outside and behind the building. Gregory was waiting for me, leaning against the wall and holding up an unlit cigar.

“Hoo hoo,” he said. He was being much more curt than usual.

I’d never seen him look so … evil. His face was glowing red in the light from the gas station sign next door.

But I tried my best to screw my courage to the sticking place.

“Lawyered,” I said.

“The law is an ass,” he replied. “I’d say that more likely, the minute they announce homecoming is canceled, you’ll just drop dead. These spells are harder to predict than a horse race, but the deck tends to be stacked against humans.”

“The deal was that I had to get kissed before the dance ended,” I said. “And now that it won’t start—”

“Not how it works!” he growled. “People from the school board are going to get to the scene of your little crime spree
any second. As soon as they take a whiff, they’ll cancel the dance. And once they do, you’ll die. And so will Mutual.”

“Mutual?”

“He’s mixed up in this, too. And if you
ever
kiss him again without both of you being undead, you’ll both die. Those are two new rules I’m adding as a punishment for this little stunt!”

“You’re changing the rules!” I said. “First you say you can’t predict it, then you change the rules!”

“It can’t be helped,” he said. He held up his unlit cigar and twirled it in his fingers like a baton. “You’ve got no choice left. I can still get you both converted if we hurry, but once they cancel that dance, it’s too late. You’ll just be faces in the smoke.”

“You’re bluffing,” I said. “He didn’t even sign a letter of intent.”

“His parents signed one for him years ago, when he was still a minor. And I have consent forms ready for both of you. Go explain all this to him, and I can get you both handled without him having to deal with a diciotto. It’s better this way. Trust me.”

For a split second, I wondered how the hell he knew Mutual’s parents had signed a letter for him. But he didn’t give me any more time to think about it—he chewed on the unlit cigar and paced back and forth while his grin got wider and wider.

“If I blow a puff of this in your face, you’ll be asleep in a few minutes,” he said. “Took about five for Cathy to be out.”

“Did you have a spell going with her, too?”

He laughed. “It was part of how I made your little wish
come true,” he said. “I told her
she’d
die, too if you didn’t kiss her boyfriend at the dance. Ha! The little brat had to break up with him herself!”

He started laughing so hard he was literally clutching his sides.

His story made sense, as far as I could tell. It explained why Cathy had broken up with Fred
right
after her meeting with Gregory about getting her part back. And why she was so determined to set me up with him.

“And that scheme she came up with!” he said. “Telling him you were dying of some dread disease?”

“She did
what
?”

“He was taking you to the dance because he thought you were oozing gunk out of every pore, growing tumors on every limb, and that you’d be dead before Christmas. A completely idiotic scheme! You probably thought she was telling him you’d do all sorts of naughty things, huh? Like he’d want to do them with
you
!”