The Popularity Spell (18 page)

Or is there?

O
n Monday I'm in Kevin's classroom before Samantha. When she comes in, she doesn't even look at me. I wonder what her weekend was like—if it was as sad and depressing as mine.

In Focus! class, she sits on the other side of the room, next to Scabby Larry. Normally she doesn't even go near him. And in Recreational Wellness, as we play field hockey inside the gym on the wooden floor, she cracks her hockey stick on the ground loudly whenever she's near me.

I stay late after school for
Healthyland
callbacks. I should have taken more time over the weekend to learn the script, but I spent almost all my time thinking about Uncle Arnie's advice instead, and I came to a decision. It's going to be hard to do, but I'm going to do it—today. Sometime. Eventually.

“Okay, everyone! Welcome to callbacks! This is going to be fun, so get ready!” says Roberta. “Let's start with everyone sitting on the floor in a circle around me.”

We all move to find a place, and Madison ends up next to me. She quietly says hi and I say hi back; then Roberta starts our first exercise. She says we're going to tell a story, but she can stop us anytime, right in the middle of a sentence, and someone else will have to keep talking in the exact spot the person left off. Roberta tells us that the story is going to be about a baby called Happy Baby meeting a dog called Downward Dog. She points at Larry, which means he's the one who starts. “Once upon a time, there was a Happy Baby who lived in Healthyland,” he says, totally confident. “His parents took him out for a walk, but he crawled away and ended up in a doghouse.” He looks to Roberta, but she makes a hand motion for him to keep going. Now I'm worried she's going to point at me, but excited too. Larry continues, “Happy Baby looked at the walls—”

Roberta points at Madison, and Madison immediately says, “And wondered why this dark little house smelled like his diaper.” We all laugh at that. “Happy Baby decided to crawl out of the house, but—”

Roberta points at me. My mind goes blank for a minute; then I say, “But all of a sudden, a big furry creature was in the doorway. This was Downward Dog, and he said, ‘What are you doing in here, smelling up my home?' ” Everyone laughs at that too, in a good way, and I tell a little bit more of the story until Roberta points at someone else and I can breathe easy.

When the game is over, Roberta says we'll now perform the sections of the play that she gave us before. She says she knows this could make some people nervous, so we'll do our performing one at a time, with just her. The rest of us can sit out in the courtyard and practice or do homework. She calls the first person to audition and the rest of us leave the room.

Outside, Madison sits at a picnic table. It looks like she might be reading her script, but I know that if I don't talk to her now, I may never get the courage.

This is it. Madison is the decision I made over the weekend. I realized that all of our positive voodoo started to go wrong when we made it about her. We were pretending our hexes were positive things, but really, they were negative. And even if Sam and I stop, I feel like the negativity will still be out there unless she knows what happened. That's when I decided I needed to tell Madison everything. Whether she believes it or not. Whether she hates me or not.

I walk over, and of course I stumble on a rock before I get to the table. She looks up but doesn't make a face or say anything.

“Are you studying your part?” I ask.

“I guess so,” she says. “But I practiced a lot over the weekend so I'm probably ready.”

“You're getting a part for sure. You'll probably be the lead.”

“Thanks,” she says. “You'll probably get a funny part.”

Right away I think she's making fun of me. “Why?” I ask.

“You're good at improvisation. You say funny things during the exercises.”

“Oh. Thanks, I guess.”

“So. How are things with you and Samantha?” Madison asks.

Since that's a really hard question to answer completely, I don't say anything right away.

“I'm sorry,” she says. “Maybe that's personal.”

“No,” I tell her. “It's actually something I really want to talk about. If that's okay.”

Madison looks like she didn't expect that, but says, “Sure, I guess.” I sit down and face her across the picnic table. I warn her that I have a story that's going to sound as wild and wacky as anything that might happen in Healthyland. And that she's probably going to call me crazy by the time the story is over, but it's all going to be true, every bit of it, from the time the package arrived at my house to this past Friday, when Samantha decided she wasn't my friend anymore.

Madison says she'll keep an open mind. She says she reads a lot of science fiction and fantasy books, so she's used to fantastical stories. Now it's my turn to be surprised. I never pictured Madison reading books that are popular with nerds and dorks…and people like me.

“Okay,” I say. “If you like that stuff, get ready. This is going to be a weird one.”

I expect her to stop me, to get up and leave the table, as soon as I tell her about opening the box and finding the voodoo doll. Instead, she seems intrigued and says, “Cool.” I expect her to be mad when I tell her how Samantha and I decided to make ourselves popular by hexing her, but she's not. Instead she says, “So that's why you pulled my hair out!”

“Yes!” I say, maybe too enthusiastically. I calm myself down. “I'm sorry about that.”

Madison doesn't seem to care. “So, wait a second. What exactly did you do when you…hexed me?”

“Well, the first one—” I start to say, but she cuts me off.

“There was more than one?”

“There were…two,” I say, looking down and mumbling.

“Two?” She sounds shocked.

I look up and nod. I'm beginning to think that telling Madison wasn't such a great idea.

“So what did you do?” she asks. She doesn't sound mad, just interested.

“Well, for the first one, we thought one way for us to get popular was for you to embarrass yourself, like, beyond belief, so—”

“Oh my gosh!” she interrupts again. “Focus! class! The day I…”

“Farted. Yeah,” I say. “That was us.”

“Well, that was definitely embarrassing.” She looks to the side like she's thinking about something. A second later she says, “But you know, that could've been a coincidence.”

“You farted like a mule on the exact day we wanted to embarrass you and it was a coincidence?” I ask. “That's pretty hard to believe.”

“Harder to believe than a voodoo doll that really works?” she asks. I shrug. What do I understand about the world anymore? Nothing. But Madison seems to be putting some pieces together in her head. “I'm pretty sure that was burrito day—the day that happened. My mom says I should work at a gas station because I'm so gassy when I eat certain foods. We never eat beans at home anymore.”

I nod, but I feel like I'm in a dreamland. Madison Paddington with her long golden hair is telling me, through her perfect pink puffy lips, that she gets gassy.

“So what was the second one?” she asks.

“That one was worse, Madison. That's the one I feel really bad about. But we didn't know what was going to happen. We just wanted you to be nicer. We had no idea what would happen next. And it wasn't what we expected—at all.” I take a breath. I know I'm going to have a hard time saying it. But Madison saves me the trouble.

“Ohhhh,” she sighs. “The day I went crazy.”

“Yeah,” I say, hoping she hears the “sorry” in my voice. “We only wanted you to get nicer. We didn't want you to get suspended or get your parents so mad at you….” I stop myself from saying more. I don't want to talk about her parents. “But that's what's wrong with voodoo. It doesn't turn out like you think it will!”

Madison looks lost in thought. She's probably going to let me have it now. Maybe she'll even use a few of the curses she used that day. And I'd deserve every single one of them.

“I don't know, Cleo. That could have been a coincidence too.”

“What?” I shout. “But you never acted like that before! I mean, you'd say mean and snotty things to me, but never…that!”

“Well, you're right—in a way. I never had been exactly like that before. But you know, I've been going to a therapist once a week since I was eight. You have one, right?”

I think therapists are the people I've seen on TV, the ones who listen to your problems and try to help you solve them. I shake my head.

“Oh, maybe you'll get one later,” Madison says. “My therapist, Kimberly…”

Of course she would only have a first name.

“She believes I have some anger in me, deep underneath the surface, and that on that day, it all came out.”

“What could you be angry about?” I ask. “You're perfect!”

Madison almost snorts when she laughs—just like Samantha and I do. Or did. “Now that's funny! No, the perfect one is my sister, Bronwyn. She's in high school, and she's never done anything wrong in the whole history of the world. I'm not as good at cheerleading, I'm not as good at acting, and I read science fiction books instead of magazines about how to put on makeup or meet a boy. In a way, I didn't even mind cursing and messing up that big and that bad. My parents know I'm different from Bronwyn now! I was sick of always trying to be perfect for them anyway.”

“But you didn't mess up,” I say. “Samantha and I did. Especially me.”

“Or maybe you didn't.”

“That's really nice of you to say, Madison, but I just can't believe that both of those hexes were coincidences.”

“Well, if they weren't—and they worked—why does Samantha hate you now?”

Of course this is another long story. I explain how Sam and I wanted her mom and my dad to get together so we could be sisters, and how we wanted
good
things to keep Terri away from my dad, but she ended up in a car accident. Madison looks sad when I tell her about how my dad and Terri broke up. I can't believe she even cares. She doesn't know Dad
or
Terri. She barely knows me.

“So what happens next?” Madison asks.

“Well, here's where it gets really hard,” I say. “You think the hexes weren't real, and I kinda think they were. Either way, I don't want the doll making any more trouble.”

“Why don't you get rid of it then?” asks Madison.

So I explain how Samantha has the doll and I need to get it back and destroy it with a friend. “I know we're not really friends,” I tell her, “but you're the only person I could think of.”

Before she answers, Roberta shouts, “Madison Paddington!”

Madison picks up her script and her backpack and stands up. But before she walks away, she says, “I'll do it. Let's talk tomorrow.”

I watch as she practically skips toward Roberta. I sit by myself and think about how strange the world has become since that weird little doll showed up in my life. My only friend became my enemy, and my enemy has heard our entire story, and not only does she understand it, she even wants to help me solve my problem.

It's all so strange and surprising, I barely even remember performing my audition. But Roberta calls me later that night and tells me I got a part. I'll be playing a tree, but that's not as bad as it sounds. Tree is a yoga pose, and this tree even has a few lines.

T
he rest of the week passes slowly. Madison and I text sometimes, but we only talk at play rehearsal since Samantha isn't involved. Finally it's the weekend, but at home when the doorbell rings, I don't run and slide to get there. I just walk down the hallway like a normal person, though what Madison and I are going to do today is about the farthest from normal I can imagine.

By the time I get to the front door, Dad has already opened it. And there stands Madison Paddington. She's as pretty and perfect as when she was the most popular girl in school, but she's different now. And so am I.

I see Dad talking to her in the doorway and hope he doesn't say anything embarrassing. “Hi, are you Madison?” he asks. She says yes, and he asks, “Are you by yourself?” He's looking around for a mom or dad.

“My nanny dropped me off,” she tells him. “My parents both had appointments today.”

I know what that means. They had more important things to do.

I don't want Dad quizzing her anymore, so I jump in between them. “Hi, Madison, want to come to my room?”

“Sure,” she says, and Dad lets her through. “Thanks for having me over for this playdate, Mr. Nelson.”

That surprises me. “You call these playdates?” I ask. “Sam told me playdates were for little kids.”

“I wouldn't know,” says Madison. “I've never really had one.”

“What do you mean? I thought you'd have playdates all the time. You've got Kylie Mae and Lisa Lee and everyone else.”

“Too busy,” Madison says. “Too much on my schedule. I'm lucky I got to come over today, but I told Sonia, my nanny, that I finished all my homework. She wanted to go shopping anyway, so she didn't mind getting rid of me.”

It's sad to me that everyone wants to get rid of Madison. Dad seems happy to have me around most of the time, even when I drive him nuts.

I close the door once we're in my room. Right away she notices my terrarium and sees Millie crawling across a piece of bark. Madison gasps and jumps back a little bit.

“Oh, sorry,” I say. “I should have warned you.”

“That's okay,” she says. “As long as he stays in there.”

“He won't go anywhere, I promise.”

“He's actually kind of cute,” she says, taking a closer peek at him. “Just not in my hair!”

Wow. Madison is not turning out to be who I expected…at all. When she looks around the rest of my room, she sees my drawings and my robots and my monster dolls, and she seems to like them too.

“I'll show you everything another time,” I say, then wonder if there ever
will
be another time. Once we solve this problem, will Madison Paddington come to my house again?
Maybe,
I think, since she looks pretty comfortable right now, sitting right on the floor, not worrying about dog hair or dust or anything. She even pets Toby, who is coming dangerously close to drooling on her designer skirt and short, shiny high-heeled boots.

“So I have a plan,” I tell her. “I just want to see if you agree first.” She nods and I hit her with it.

(1) We tell Dad that Samantha has texted us and wants us to come to her house. (2) Dad drops us off at Sam's, and we convince Sam's mom that Sam invited us over. (3) We ambush Sam and demand the doll back. If she doesn't give it to us, we'll ransack her room. (4) We retrieve the doll. (5) We call Dad to get us. 6) We destroy the doll following Uncle Arnie's instructions.

It's very easy to list these things. But I tell Madison they're going to be very hard to do.

“Then we'd better get going,” she says, giving Toby a pat on the head and standing up. I shout “Dad!” and we get started.

Dad grumbles about driving us to Sam's, but I tell him it will be good for him to go outside and get some fresh air. Since Terri broke up with him, he doesn't do anything but work. The house is getting messy again and Toby fur is piling up like a carpet on sections of our floor. I suggested once that we make chicken and rice and bacon green beans for dinner, but he only wants to make frozen dinners or order in food.

“I know what you can do!” I tell Dad. “You don't even have to come up to Sam's. I know how to get there. You should drop us off and go to that coffeehouse you like so much, and treat yourself to an iced Americano with soy milk and half a sugar.”

Dad laughs. He asks if this would be okay with Madison's parents, and she says it's fine as long as she's back here in time for the nanny to pick her up.

So Dad drives. I encourage him to listen to music instead of a podcast. I don't want to
tell
him to cheer up because that would never work, so I'm hoping to do it through little suggestions like iced Americanos and music on the radio.

When we get to Sam's condo building, Dad stops the car and says, “I really should walk you two up there.”

Madison jumps right in. “Oh, Sam's mom doesn't want to be disturbed. She's, um…getting a massage. Sam's text said that we should go in quietly and go right to her room.”

I'm impressed with Madison's quick thinking, and I build on it, like we learned with improvisation. “Yeah, Dad, she wouldn't have time to talk to you anyway.”

“Well, that's
fine.
” The way Dad says it lets me know once and for all that he doesn't like Sam's mom, at least not in a girlfriend way. He says he'll wait and watch us go in the building, and we should call or text him in an hour so he can pick us up.

“Thank you, Mr. Nelson,” Madison says as she gets out of the car.

“Yeah, thanks, Dad,” I say, remembering to be polite. Then I slam the door with a smile that probably shows too much of my teeth.

I know the code to open the front door of Sam's building, so that part's easy. As Madison and I get into the elevator, I see Dad's car pull away. I feel like I did when I tried out for
Healthyland
—nervous, but excited. But the worst thing that could've happened at that audition was embarrassment—and I'm used to that. This could be dangerous if Sam's mom realizes we're up to something!

“That was a good one, about the massage,” I tell Madison.

“Thanks. My mom gets them twice a week so it was easy to come up with.”

The door of the elevator opens and we're on Samantha's floor. Madison follows me to her door, and we both take a breath before I knock. This is it.

Sam's mom opens the door. She's in a fancy sweat suit like she wore with my dad, but this one is lavender instead of pink. I wonder if she's going on a hike with another girl's dad, but I don't ask. I just say, “Hi! Sam told me and our friend Madison that we could come over for a little bit.”

Paige looks uncertain but lets us in. “Samantha didn't tell me this,” she says. “Have you two made up?”

“Sort of,” I lie, or rather,
improvise.
“We're trying. That's why we came over.”

“Well, good,” her mom says. “We miss you and your dad.”

At the mention of Dad, I shoot Madison a look.
See,
the look says,
she loves him.
Madison gets it. “Well, we'll go back to Sam's room then,” I say, and walk ahead. We don't want Sam's mom seeing her reaction when we ambush her.

“Okay. I'll be down at the pool if you girls need anything.” She picks up a beach bag and a big floppy hat, and heads out the door.

Perfect. She'll be out of the house for what's going to happen next.

I slowly turn the doorknob to Sam's room and open the door. Sam's voice booms, “Mom! I told you to knock!”

I open the door all the way and Sam sees us: her best friend (until recently) and her archenemy standing together in her doorway. Now she yells “Mom!” in a different way. She
wants
her mom now.

Madison and I step inside. “Your mom's at the pool,” I say.

“What do you guys want?” Sam asks. “What are you even doing together?”

“Cleo's my friend,” Madison says. Sam looks as shocked as I feel hearing that. “She told me everything. We're taking the doll back so nobody can do any more hexing.”

I can tell everything that's going through Sam's head: she can't believe Madison is my friend, she can't believe I told her everything, and she definitely can't believe that we're here to take the voodoo doll.

“It's not here,” she says, acting tough. She takes a few steps backward toward her dresser, where her phone is sitting.

“Grab her phone!” I order Madison, and she does. It feels good to be in charge of a plan for once! “You're not gonna call your mom,” I tell Sam. “You're going into your closet and getting the doll out of its hiding place.”

“What hiding place?” Sam asks innocently.

“The one you told me about. In the back under all your old toys.”

“Oh,
riiiiight,
” Sam says, nodding. “I forgot about that.” I can tell by the smirk on her face that her mind is churning. I just don't know what she's thinking.

A second later, Sam says, “Okay, you got me. I'll be right back,
once I get the doll.
” She turns slowly and walks into her closet. Madison raises an eyebrow at me with a look that says,
This is going to be easy.

But I suddenly know Madison is wrong. I close the door to Sam's closet with a loud slam. “Hand me the chair from her desk!” I shout, and Madison does it with lightning speed. I jam the chair underneath the closet's doorknob and hope that it keeps the door closed like in movies and TV shows.

“Cleo!” Sam shouts from the other side of the door. “What are you doing? I have the doll!”

“No you don't! I thought it was in there, but you never would have given it up that fast. I know where the doll is and I'm going to get him!”

Madison doesn't know what's going on, but I don't have time to explain. The closet doorknob is shaking and the door is making noise on its hinges.

“Don't worry, Sam,” I shout. “We'll be back real soon!”

“Back?” Madison asks. “Where are we going?”

“I'll tell you on the way,” I say. Samantha is shouting the whole time—she's going to tell her mother; we're going to get in trouble; I'm never going to have another friend again. But I don't care about any of it; I've got a job to do.

The banging of the closet door is getting louder. I don't know if Sam will be able to get out, but I know we should hurry either way. “Follow me!” I shout to Madison as I climb through Sam's bedroom window.

Madison is right behind me—through the window, into the condo's outdoor hallway, down the steps, and onto the sidewalk. We run for a block. I'm wearing sneakers so it's pretty easy for me, but Madison's high-heeled boots slow her down. When we get to the corner, we both stop, breathing heavy. “Crab soccer hasn't trained me for this,” Madison says, pinching her waist and bending over. I have to laugh. She's right!

Instead of running down the next block, we just walk quickly—until I throw my arm out to stop Madison. “What's wrong?” she asks.

“My dad!” I whisper, but it sounds like a shout.

We're almost in front of Caffeine Craze—the exact coffeehouse where I told Dad to go! There's a big window looking out onto the street, with tables and umbrellas outside where people are enjoying their iced Americanos or whatever their special order is.

“My dad is in there!” I explain urgently. “What if he sees us?”

I think about running to the other side of the street, but there aren't any stop signs or traffic lights, so that seems like a bad idea. When I turn back around, Madison isn't there. She's on her hands and knees on the sidewalk, crawling past the tables and umbrellas and coffee drinkers, right under the front window. She doesn't even care about her skirt getting dirty or her knees getting scraped. I get down and follow her, so we're just two girls crawling on a sidewalk in the middle of Los Angeles. Not something you see every day.