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Authors: Marthe Jocelyn

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8 • Black Magic

A
lyssa?”

After all the times in my life I’d wished that Alyssa would vanish from the face of the planet, she chooses to do it in the bathroom at the Cloisters!

“I’m right here.” Her voice was missing that bossy note. “Only, I—I—you know …”

“Yes, I do know, you stupid thief! How dare you! Ohmigod—you—you are—” I was so mad I was shaking. I scooped up the film canister and snapped on the rubber lid, trying to hold my shoulders still. I picked up the makeup kit from the floor and dumped everything into it. Then I slammed the kit into my pack.

Alyssa said nothing. I thought for a second she might have fainted, because Alyssa never says nothing. Then she made a weird, shuddery sound. It wasn’t exactly a sob, but it came close. Like she was trying to stop herself from crying in front of me. I slowly turned around.

“I always knew you were hiding something,” she croaked. “I don’t know how you did it, but this could really get you in trouble, Billie Stoner. My parents could arrest you for this. My parents could put you behind bars in five seconds—”

“Wait a minute! Your parents are going to arrest me because you stole
my
backpack?”

“My parents are going to arrest you because
you’re some kind of a creepy witch practicing black magic on innocent people.”

That made me laugh out loud. As if I were smart enough to invent something this good! It was my friend Jody who was the witch—I mean, genius.

Then I felt a quiver of nerves. How
would
I explain this situation to Alyssa’s parents? But I was determined not to show Alyssa I had even a moment’s worry.

“And speaking of witches,” I said, “take a look in the mirror. Oops, duh, it’s blank! It’s so typical that you are blaming someone else for your own stupid crime.”

“And making someone disappear isn’t a crime?”

“I didn’t
make
you do anything, Alyssa. You
stole
from my backpack and then you
stole
from my makeup case and then you started to use my stuff! I am not even a speck responsible for your criminal act! Believe me, I’d rather be looking at your ugly face right now!”

I took a breath. I could hear my mother telling me that “an insult is the tool of a weak
argument.” I took another breath. Since I was right, I could lay off the insults and just make her—what? Make her say she’s sorry? Make her reappear? Ohmigod! What was I supposed to do now? What was Mr. Donaldson going to say when he saw her? I mean, couldn’t see her?

“Listen,” I said. “We’re supposed to be getting on a bus….” What should I tell Mr. D.? Or should I not say anything? I felt trapped. I took a step toward the sink and crashed right into Alyssa.

“Hey! Watch out!” She grabbed me to steady herself, and my sleeve disappeared. My arm flickered, as if it might go next.

“Whoa!” she said, letting go instantly. “Did I do that?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Do I have magical powers now?”

“No, you do not have magical powers! But while you’re gone like this, anything you touch will disappear. So keep your hands to yourself.”

She immediately gripped my arm again. It wavered and vanished.

“Let go, Alyssa! I just told you not—”

Without warning, the bathroom door flew open. Alyssa let go of my arm as Michele came in. She had nearly caught me shouting at an empty room.

“Billie, come on!” she said. “Mr. Donaldson is having a cow about you and Alyssa.”

“I’ll be right there, Michele. I have to, uh, use the facilities.”

“Well, what have you been—”

Her ponytail disappeared. Suddenly her hair went dim and then was gone. Alyssa must have been holding on to it. Michele’s face was intact, but she now looked like a hard-boiled egg with a face painted on.

Alyssa started to giggle. Michele jumped, and I laughed at the look on her face. But the laughter was coming from two directions. In an instant I knew I had to distract her.

“Aaaeeeyy! A
spider! In your hair!” I shouted.

Michele clapped her hands to her head. “Get it off! Get it off!”

I flapped at her like I was helping, and she ran from the room with a howl. I fell against the wall and cracked up. I couldn’t help it. And
Alyssa sounded like she was choking, she was laughing so hard. It was a couple of minutes before we caught our breath. I couldn’t believe I was having fun with
Alyssa
!

“This could rock,” she said. “This could really be a party. How long does it last?”

Hold on, I thought. She shouldn’t be getting so pleased with herself.

“It depends,” I said.

“On what?”

“On quite a few things.”

“Like?”

I didn’t answer.

“Like what, Billie? It just wears off, right? How long do I have?”

What should I say? I was thinking that maybe she deserved a little punishment. After all, she was still a dirty, rotten thief. Finally, I had some power over her.

“Glue number one,” I said. “This powder does not wear off.”

“What?”

“It does not wear—”

“I heard you the first time. But it’s really creepy the way your eyes keep missing mine. You’re looking sort of past me, like I’m not really here. It’s distracting. So, anyway, if it doesn’t wear off, what happens?”

“Hmm,” I said. “I guess we’ll just have to wait and find out, won’t we?”

I wished I could see the face that went with her choking growl.

“You are totally whack, Billie Stoner. If you don’t tell me right now, I’ll—”

“You’ll what? Sue me? Gall the police? Report me to the Department of Witchcraft?”

“Oh, get lost!” she said, practically spitting.

That did it. I marched toward the door.

“Wait!”

I ignored her and pushed it open.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m getting lost.”

9 • Hiding the
Invisible Thief

I
stomped into the hallway.

Alyssa was right behind me.

“Wait a minute!” she pleaded. “Please wait!”

I waited, but I didn’t turn around.

“It really doesn’t wear off?”

The tremble in her voice was more than a bit satisfying.

“It really doesn’t.”

“So what happens?”

There were heavy footsteps on the stairs, and Mr. Donaldson’s feet came into view.

“Oh, no!” Alyssa’s boots squeaked as she yanked open the bathroom door to hide herself. I didn’t have time to remind her that she was invisible before Mr. Donaldson was looming over me. The bathroom door swung slowly closed.

“Billie, we have been waiting in the lobby for more than ten minutes. I’m fed up with your behavior today.” Mr. D.’s jaw was clenched tight. “You are begging for a detention.”

“But I found Alyssa.”

“Well, where is she?”

“In the bathroom.”

“What’s going on here? This is not the time or the place—” He strode over to the door and pushed it open a couple of inches. He stuck his pointy nose right in the crack. “Alyssa Morgan? I want you out in this hallway by the time I count to five. One, two, three—”

“But—” she yelped.

“Four—”

“She can’t come out!” I whispered at him. “She—she—she had an accident!”

He turned to stare at me, letting the door go.

“She’s too embarrassed,” I said.

“I knew I should have had a female staff member on this trip.” Mr. Donaldson looked at his watch. “I’m not happy about this. Just get her onto the bus right away. The rest of the class are buying postcards in the gift shop, and
the line to pay is ridiculous. We’ll be out there as soon as I can drag them along.”

“We need our jackets. It’s freezing. Could you send Hubert with our jackets?”

“Right away.”

He took the steps two at a time. I leaned against the wall, trying to steady myself. I could hear Mr. D.’s shoes echoing in the stairwell.

What now? Ohmigod, what now?

The bathroom door eased open.

“Is he gone?”

“Uh-huh.”

“You are such a slimy toad!” she hissed. “You told him I peed my pants!”

“What the heck else was I supposed to say? I couldn’t let him see you, because he can’t see you!”

“You thought of the worst possible—”

Footsteps sounded again on the stairs.

“Quick, go in,” I said. “That’s probably Hubert. Oh, and take off your jeans.”

Before she could say anything, I pulled the door shut and turned around to face Hubert. He
was holding my jacket and Alyssa’s puffy silver ski coat.

“Here,” he said, shoving the bundle into my arms. His face was puckered into a glower. “What’s going on?”

“I found Alyssa.”

“So?”

“I found her, but she’s invisible.”

He put his hands over his face. “Oh, rats.”

“Don’t faint on me, Hubert. I need your help, I really do.”

“I’m not in much of a mood to help you, Billie.”

“Hubert, I said I was sorry. And I am. I’m really sorry you got in trouble with my mother. I truly thought I was avoiding that. Maybe it’s not the best time for me to beg favors, but, please, pretty please, imagine the size of trouble Alyssa being invisible is going to get me in. Couldn’t you help us? Please? Come inside.”

“But it’s the girls’!”

“Get over it,” I said, nudging him ahead of me.

“If you think,” started Alyssa, making Hubert
jump halfway to the ceiling. “If you think for half a second that I’m going to strip off my clothes—”

“It’s a perfectly good idea,” I said calmly.

“Perfectly stupid, you mean.”

“If you take off your jeans, they’ll reappear, and we can, you know, dangle them from your jacket and make it look like you. Or at least a scarecrow version of you.”

“You are completely sick, Billie!”

You should talk, I thought.

“Can I say something?” said Hubert.

“You came up with the plan most guaranteed to humiliate me,” complained Alyssa.

“Well, none of this would have happened if—”

“Can I say something?” said Hubert again.

“I refuse to walk around in my underwear, even if I’m invisible!”

“Maybe you and Hubert could switch jeans!” I cried. “Then yours would have real legs and—”

Hubert stomped his foot.

“Billie!” he said. “Stop! I am not taking off my jeans, and neither is Alyssa!”

“Way to go! Stand up like a man, Bertie,” said Alyssa.

“All she has to do is get on the bus,” said Hubert. “No one can see her anyway, jeans on or jeans off.”

“The boy’s a genius,” said Alyssa.

“What about when Mr. D. counts heads?” I asked.

“Oh,” said Hubert. “I forgot about that.”

“Just give me my lousy jacket!” shouted Alyssa, snatching it out of my hand and making it vanish. “I’ll meet you on the lousy bus!”

The door disappeared for a second as it whooshed open. Hubert and I were left gaping at each other.

10 • The Haunted
Bus Ride

H
ubert and I were galloping up the stairs before you could say
invisible.
But of course there was no sign of Alyssa.

“Pay attention, people. Line up, please.” Mr. Donaldson was herding the sheep. I grabbed
Hubert’s arm, and we ducked out the door to the parking lot.

The driver was leaning against the side of the bus, huddled into his uniform and puffing on a cigarette. The door to the bus was shut.

“Where do you think she is?” whispered Hubert.

“Not on the bus,” I said, looking around for clues. “Oh, this just ticks me off so much! The rest of the kids are going to be here any second. What if this doesn’t work? What if he thinks she ran away or something? What if he calls the cops? What about that, Hubert?”

“Maybe
we
should call the cops. I mean, seems like she really did steal your bag, huh?”

“Hubert, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. You see why I’ve been acting whack? Do you get it now?”

“Jeez, yeah.”

“Zzzzzssssst!” One inch from my ear came a buzzing like a jumbo mosquito. I swung around and swatted Alyssa.

“Don’t you ever do that again!” I snatched at her and found part of her jacket. The bus
driver gave me a nervous look. I smiled at him.

“Could we get on the bus now, please? Medical reasons.”

The driver flicked away his cigarette and pressed the hidden button to open the bus door. My fistful of Alyssa’s clothing gave her no choice but to squeeze up the steps next to me. Mr. Donaldson and the other kids appeared under the arched entrance of the Cloisters.

“I’ll just wait here for J. P.,” said Hubert, lingering outside. “You guys go on ahead.”

I tried not to feel disappointed that he was going off duty. He’d come through with the jackets, after all.

“Thanks,” I said. “But there’s only one of us, remember? From now on.”

“From now on?” whispered Alyssa as I yanked her down the aisle.

“Until I decide otherwise,” I said, trying to sound tough.

I took the window in the back row and made Alyssa drape her jacket over the top of the aisle so it would show.

Mr. D. must have taken Alyssa’s predicament
seriously. “Everything okay back there, girls?” he asked, climbing aboard.

“Yes, sir!” I shouted.

“Yes, sir,” squeaked Alyssa when I poked at her.

I guess Mr. D. had told the class to leave us alone, because no one bugged us or even sat near us. People were diving into their lunches, and we had the whole back row to ourselves. I noticed that Hubert was much closer to the front than he had been on the trip up.

As far as I was concerned, Alyssa should have been sitting quietly next to me, apologizing with every breath. But before the bus had gone ten blocks, I felt her move. I reached over and she was gone.

“Alyssa!” I whispered. “Come back here!”

No answer. Oh, she made a girl want to swear!

Then, after a moment, her annoying giggle came from across the aisle.

“Keep your hair on,” she murmured. “I’m right here.”

Suddenly a patch on the window steamed
up, like she was blowing on it. Then, magically, she drew a circle.

“Hey,” I said. “Why isn’t the window disappearing?”

“I’m using the tip of my sweater.”

She made dots for eyes and stroked in a smiling mouth.

“Okay,” I said. “Pretty cool. Now stop before someone sees.” Silently, she added a tongue sticking out of the mouth.

“Ha-ha,” I said. There was a rustle and a scrape as she stood up again.

“Sit down!” I said. I craned my neck over the seat in front.

Suddenly Josh was shouting. “Hey! What? Who took my—” He bounced out of his seat, making a noise like a scared dog.

Mr. D. hauled himself to his feet and glared at Josh.

“I had a bag of Gummi Worms on my lap,” Josh explained. “And they just disappeared!”

“I guess you ate them even faster than usual,” said Mr. Donaldson.

“No, I’m sure, I—”

“There’s a field-trip rule, Josh,” said Mr. Donaldson. “If you bring candy, you bring enough for everyone. Now sit down and put a lid on it.”

I heard a bag crackle next to me. A Gummi Worm landed on my thigh.

“Maybe that’ll sweeten you up!”

“Alyssa!”

But already there was a chorus of “Hey” and “Thanks, Josh!” and “Good aim!” as Gummi Worms flew through the air and landed in people’s laps.

“And two for J. P.!” I heard Alyssa say before she retreated to the seat across the aisle.

Hubert stood up and waved his arms at me. “Billie!” he yelled, as if I had any control! In the confusion, miraculously, he was the only one who figured out what had happened. Then again, I suppose thinking a classmate had suddenly vanished and was now showering Gummi Worms in a bus on the West Side Highway is not the first thing a normal person would guess.

“Should I kill you now?” I asked. “Or do you want to kiss Jean-Pierre good-bye first?”

“Oh, lighten up!” she said, sneering. “You’re about as much fun as a doorknob!”

Ouch. Was that true? I wondered. I’m fun, aren’t I? Or is that why I don’t have so many friends? Am I really Stone-Face Junior?

Alyssa was cackling so loudly that Mr. Donaldson was headed down the aisle. I jumped to my feet and flapped Alyssa’s jacket in the air as a decoy.

“Sorry, sir!” I yelled, before he could come any nearer. “We’ll be quiet, I promise.”

“You sit down,” I hissed at Alyssa. “Sit down, shut up, and count to a thousand.”

I sat down, too, and prayed to wake up from this nightmare.

Finally, the bus turned onto Bleecker Street and came to a stop outside the school. The driver made a beeline for the deli across the street. Mr. Donaldson went up front to shepherd the class off. We waited in our seats until everyone else had left.

“All right, step on it now, girls,” called Mr. D. “Do you want me to phone your mother, Alyssa?”

“No! No, thank you!”

“Don’t worry about her,” I said, inching forward along the aisle. “She was coming to my house anyway.”

“I was not,” muttered Alyssa, a step behind me.

“He doesn’t have to know that,” I muttered back.

“Fine,” said Mr. Donaldson.

I was at the front of the bus now, hovering on the stair. How was Alyssa supposed to get off?

“I must say, Billie,” continued Mr. D., “I do not applaud your method, but your behavior today was quite chivalrous. I’m proud of you for overcoming your differences and aiding a friend in need.”

“Thanks, sir.”

The driver crossed the street, coming back from the deli with a paper cup. He’d probably want his bus back.

“Come on, Alyssa,” I said, in my cheeriest voice.

“Bye, then,” said Mr. Donaldson.

I held my breath until the school doors
closed behind him. The bus driver was now in front of me, tapping his foot.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” I said. “I forgot my backpack.” I fake-tripped a little on the step. He reached out his arm to save me and then took a step back to get out of the way. Alyssa scrambled past me onto the sidewalk. I smiled up at the driver.

“Thanks,” I said.

“Have a nice day,” he replied.

As if there was any chance of that.

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