I'm With Cupid (7 page)

By the time the bell for last period rang, Lena had her nerves under control. She'd gone over the Alice monologue in the bathroom between classes, she'd spent all of lunch in the auditorium practicing, and she'd made sure to stay nice and hydrated throughout the day so that her throat wouldn't be dry and raspy.

She was ready. As she waited in the auditorium for the auditions to start, she couldn't help imagining what things would be like once she got into the play. Her dad would be so proud of her that maybe he'd finally stop being the Tin Man for a minute and show some real emotion (without the help of any fake love spells). And her mom might even come see her on opening night instead of just doing her once-a-year visit on Christmas. But most of all, Lena would know that her dream of becoming a real actress one day wasn't just some crazy fantasy. It could really come true.

When everyone was gathered in the auditorium, Mr. Jackson stood up on the stage, holding a clipboard and adjusting his red bow tie.

“All right!” he called out. “Put your names on this sign-up sheet, and I'll call you one by one.”

There was a frantic dash to the clipboard as Mr. Jackson put it on top of the piano. Lena made sure to stand back so she wouldn't accidentally brush against anyone, which meant that by the time she got to the sign-up sheet, she was the only one left. She scrawled her name after Abigail's and went to sit in the front row.

Then the waiting began. Abigail spent the whole time reading the monologue over and over, but Lena watched every audition, trying to decide who Mr. Jackson would cast for all the parts. She had a feeling that Emery Higgins would be the Cheshire Cat because of the gleaming braces on his enormous smile.

With each girl who auditioned for Alice, Lena's confidence grew. None of them were that great. The girl who'd gotten the lead last year was now in high school, which meant that Lena might actually have a shot. But getting the lead wasn't the point, she reminded herself. Any part in the play would do. That's all she wanted.

Finally, almost two hours later, it was Abigail's turn. The auditorium was pretty empty, since most kids had left after they'd auditioned.

“Break a leg,” Lena whispered as her friend headed up to the stage. She'd given Marcus a hard time about using that phrase, but she knew Abigail would be offended if she wished her good luck.

Abigail stood in the center of the stage with her eyes closed for a minute, like she was meditating. Then she took a deep breath and started to speak, not as herself, but as Alice.

Lena watched her, mesmerized, along with everyone else in the auditorium. Abigail was amazing. She even looked the part with her long, blond hair and bright-blue eyes. This was a far cry from the self-conscious girl who'd practically whispered her lines at last year's audition.

“Wow!” Mr. Jackson said when she was finished. “You've come a long way!”

“Thanks,” Abigail said with a shy glance up from the stage. “I've been practicing a lot.”

Mr. Jackson scribbled something on his clipboard and then called out, “Finally, Lena Perris!”

Lena got to her feet and passed by Abigail, who seemed to be floating to her seat. Her friend didn't even look at her, as if she were still lost in Wonderland.

Don't think about her
, Lena told herself.
Focus
on
your
own
audition.

When she got to the center of the stage, her heart started bouncing off the sides of her chest like a basketball. She hadn't felt nervous before, but now she could barely breathe.

She glanced out at the crowd, and suddenly she noticed the colors shifting around her.
Oh
no. Please, don't let this happen
now.

But it was too late. Suddenly, two eighth graders in the back of the auditorium were glowing yellow, sparks fluttering between them. Had Marcus zapped them recently? And a sixth-grade girl in the middle row had a pale gray aura around her as she stared at a skinny seventh grader with an odd, hungry look on her face.

Lena closed her eyes.
Stop
it.

“Is everything all right?” Mr. Jackson called.

Lena forced her eyes open and sighed in relief when she saw the auras were gone. “Fine,” she said. “Sorry. I'm ready.”

Then she cleared her throat and pushed Alice's words out of her mouth. They oozed out slowly at first, like molasses, but then they began to pour out more quickly until finally she wasn't thinking about them anymore, she was just saying them. Before she knew it, the monologue was over.

She expected Mr. Jackson to tell her “good job” or at least to say “thank you” like he had to all the other kids, but he only glanced at the sign-up sheet and said, “Looks like that's it for today. I'll have the cast list posted tomorrow morning.”

As Lena staggered to her seat, she spotted Eddie in the back of the auditorium, waving to her. Then he ducked out into the hall. Why was he here?

She quickly told Abigail “good job” and then rushed outside. She found Eddie examining the trophy case near the main office.

“Do you think one day they will give trophies for hover-boarding?” he asked dreamily. “Imagine a whole team of kids flying around a track.”

“What are you doing here?” Lena asked.

Eddie turned to her, his face growing serious. “The boss lady called me. She said the situation has gotten worse?”

Lena nodded. “Our powers are acting up for no reason. I mean, Marcus killed a rosebush just by touching it!”

Eddie gave her a skeptical look. “Things like that should not happen. It's not possible.”

“But they
are
happening. I kept seeing auras during my
Alice
audition, and you don't even want to know what's going on with my dad.”

“It has to be from you two getting your wires crossed.” Eddie shook his head. “This is serious. If your powers are flaring up when they are not supposed to, that could throw off the whole balance of things.”

“You mean we're going to cause a black hole or something?”

“Not exactly, but there is an order to how things are supposed to happen. The more you change that order, the harder it is to make everything right again. Next time you feel your powers acting up, the two of you need to control them, okay? Take deep breaths and focus on calming the energy.”

“That's it? We could accidentally make the world explode, and you're saying we need to take deep breaths?”

Eddie gave her a look that was so helpless, Lena suddenly felt bad. Her boss seemed as lost in the whole situation as she was.

“You said you were on probation before,” she said softly. “Was it for something like this?” It was probably none of her business, but if this had happened before, she wanted to know how long it would take to get everything back to normal.

Eddie shook his head. “I was helping out an old friend, but unfortunately, the boss lady did not see it that way. She was finally starting to forget about all of that when this mess happened.”

“Marcus and I had an idea,” Lena said, “but I don't know if it's even possible.” Then she told him about re-creating Connie Reynolds's party.

When she was done, Eddie absently clicked his tongue, deep in thought. “I will see what I can do,” he said finally. “In the meantime, be careful.”

As he turned to go, Lena couldn't help calling after him. “Hey, Eddie. You saw my audition, right? How did I do?”

“You were good, kid,” Eddie called over his shoulder, flashing her a smile. But as he disappeared around the corner, she couldn't help thinking that he hadn't sounded all that convincing.

The nursing home was even worse than Marcus had feared. It was a maze of nondescript hallways and people in uniforms bustling by, pushing ancient-looking folks in wheelchairs. It felt like there was no air in the whole building, like he'd walked into a crypt or something.

As Marcus and his family headed to Grandpa Joe's room, his mom chattered on about some new papier-mâché technique she wanted to try out. Meanwhile, his sister shot him a dirty look and said, “I was hoping to bring Grandpa some of my red roses, but
someone
poisoned them.”

“I didn't!” Marcus protested, but he knew it was no use. How could he convince Ann-Marie that he hadn't hurt her prized rosebush when he
had
been the one to kill it? She wouldn't care that it had been an accident.

Finally, when Marcus thought he might pass out from the lack of oxygen in the air, his family stopped at a dimly lit room at the end of a long corridor.

“Pop?” Marcus's mom said as they went in. “Are you awake?”

Grandpa Joe turned to them from his bed, his watery eyes lighting up. “Look who's here!” he said.

The rest of his family went into the room, but Marcus stood frozen in the doorway. This couldn't be Grandpa Joe. He was so small in that enormous bed that he looked like a frail old man. A stranger.

“Marcus, my boy,” Grandpa said. “Get on in here so I can see you.” At least his voice sounded the same.

Marcus forced his legs to start moving again. He forced his eyes to stay on Grandpa instead of focusing on the floor. He forced himself to smile a little.

“Hi,” he whispered.

“I was hoping you'd come by soon,” Grandpa said. “The entertainment here hasn't been up to snuff.”

“Hey!” Ann-Marie said. “What about all those jokes I told you the other day?”

Grandpa laughed. “Your sister's got quite the repertoire of puns, Marcus. Did you know that?”

“She probably memorized a joke book so she could be the best at that too,” he found himself grumbling.

His dad gave him a sharp look, and Marcus stopped talking for the rest of the visit.

Grandpa soon launched into a story about flirting with one of the staff members until she agreed to give him two cups of pudding instead of only one. The rest of the family laughed, and if Marcus had been hearing this story anywhere else, he would have been laughing the loudest. But all he could do now was keep a vague smile on his face and avoid actually looking at Grandpa.

How could his parents and sister laugh as if everything were normal? The only time Marcus had even cracked a smile these past few weeks had been with Lena, and that felt wrong now that he was here.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, it was time to go.

“Hang back a minute, would you, Marcus?” Grandpa asked.

The rest of the family filed out into the hallway, leaving Marcus all alone with Grandpa in a room that suddenly felt too small and too hot.

“You all right, son?” Grandpa asked.

“I'm fine,” he mumbled. “Are
you
okay?”

Grandpa let out a dry laugh. “Oh, you know. I've been better. But I'm glad you came. How are the models coming along?”

Marcus swallowed. “I'm still working on the moon ship,” he said. “I haven't had a lot of time since…” He trailed off. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't tell Grandpa what had been going on the past few days. “I'm sorry I haven't come to see you. I wanted to, really, but I...”

Grandpa's eyes sparkled a little as if he understood why Marcus had been staying away. “How are things working out with the girl you told me about? What's her name? Elaine?”

“Lena,” Marcus said, an embarrassed smile pulling at his lips despite himself. “Um, things are good, I guess. We're hanging out a lot more. She's kind of hard to read though. Just when I think she might like me, something happens and then I'm not sure again.”

“Well, you stick with that book I gave you, and it'll all work out,” Grandpa said, his voice growing drowsy. “You'll see.” Then he reached out his hand, and—before Marcus could pull away—rested it on top of his.

Marcus was too paralyzed to move, but luckily his fingers stayed normal and unglowing. After a minute, he even managed to give Grandpa's hand a reassuring squeeze in return.

Soon, Grandpa's eyes drifted closed, and his soft snores filled the room.

When Marcus finally forced himself to look—really look—at Grandpa Joe, the air around the old man seemed to darken. And Marcus could actually
see
it, his grandpa's soul, barely clinging to his sleeping body, getting ready to be collected so it could move on.

Marcus slid his hand out of Grandpa's and ran for the door.

“What's wrong?” he heard his mom call, but he didn't stop. He kept running and running until he reached the end of the hallway and couldn't go any farther. Then he collapsed into a chair and started to cry.

His mom had been trying to convince Marcus that Grandpa would be okay, but he knew what he'd seen. That faint pinprick of a soul, so different from Ann-Marie's, meant Grandpa's time was almost up. And there was nothing Marcus could do about it.

Lena peered at the cast list from down the hall. Other kids kept clustering around to check it, not giving her an opportunity to read it when no one else was there. She'd even gotten to school early so she'd have a better chance of being alone.

Finally, the hallway cleared, and she dashed in front of the list. At the top, in big, mocking letters, was Abigail's name. She'd been cast as Alice.

Lena's heart sagged.
Don't be stupid
, she told herself. Of course Abigail had been cast in the lead; she was perfect for it. Lena scanned the entire list, but her name wasn't there. She scanned it again, slower this time, but it still wasn't there. How was this possible? She'd worked so hard!

It had to be a mistake. That was the only explanation.

She turned on her heel and marched down the hall to Mr. Jackson's classroom. She found him in the corner of the room, sorting through stacks of dusty books that looked like moths had been nesting in them.

“Lena, what can I do for you?” he asked.

“I think there was a mistake with the casting.”

Mr. Jackson furrowed his brow. “A mistake?”

“I wasn't on the list.”

“Oh.” He sighed and put down a tattered copy of
Romeo
and
Juliet
. “Lena, I appreciate how hard you've been trying. I really do. And I wish I'd had a part for you this year, but the cast is so small that it simply wasn't possible.”

Lena squeezed the checklist in her pocket, the one with “make the school play” written right at the top. “So I really didn't get in?” she whispered.

“Not this time. I'm sorry. But the high school productions are much bigger. You should try next year.”

“What did I do wrong?” she asked.

Mr. Jackson let out a soft chuckle and adjusted his bow tie—blue today. “You didn't do anything wrong.”

“That's obviously not true. If I'd been good enough, I would have gotten in. I want to know what I can do better. That's what scientists do. They figure out why something failed so they can improve on it next time.”

“Lena…” She didn't like the way he kept saying her name, like he was trying to protect her from the truth.

“Please tell me!” she said. “I can handle it.”

“You've always been a little stiff, that's all,” Mr. Jackson said finally. “If you work on putting more emotion into your acting, really let loose, I think it will open up a lot of opportunities for you.”

“Stiff?” She cringed, remembering how Marcus had said the same thing. But it couldn't be true. She'd put everything she had into her monologue. It was her stupid new matchmaking power's fault. If she hadn't been so distracted by everyone's auras, she would have been able to concentrate on her audition.

“I was having a hard time focusing yesterday. Can't you give me another chance?”

“I'm sorry, Lena. I wish I could, but it wouldn't be fair to everyone else. I'm sure you'll get in next time.” It was exactly what he'd said to her last year. The bell rang, and Mr. Jackson got to his feet. “Time to get to homeroom, okay?” There was a pleading tone in his voice, like he was begging her to let it go.

“Fine.” As she marched down the hallway, her head started throbbing. This was all because of the mess with Marcus. Why had she ever kissed him? Now everything was ruined.

Just then, she spotted Abigail walking away from the cast list. No, she wasn't walking. She was
prancing
.

“Lena!” Abigail cried when she saw her. “I got it! I got the lead!”

“I saw. Congratulations,” Lena said, trying to smile.

“This is perfect! Hayleigh's doing costumes, so we'll all get to hang out!” Her face was shining like a beacon. Lena wanted to be happy for her—she
was
happy for her—but she couldn't help the gnawing feeling inside her.

“Wait,” Abigail added, as if finally realizing that something was wrong. “You got in too, didn't you? I didn't actually check the whole list.”

Lena shook her head. “Next year,” she said weakly.

“Oh! Right. Next year, you'll get in for sure! You can do props again this time. That'll be fun, right?”

As they headed down the eighth-grade hallway, they passed Brent Adamson standing at his locker. His plump lips were on display as he chewed a piece of gum, which was totally not allowed in school. When he spotted Abigail, he gave her a thumbs-up. “Congrats on the play,” he said.

Abigail waved at him and giggled—actually giggled!

The gnawing feeling inside Lena's chest turned to chomping anger. Not only was Abigail in the play, but now Brent Adamson was suddenly paying attention to her?

It was all too much. Lena wanted time to rewind to last week, before she'd ever kissed Marcus Torelli, even if it did mean having to uncheck “first kiss” on her list. She should have waited for Brent Adamson instead. Then everything would have gone according to plan.

Or maybe…

Maybe she couldn't turn back time, but she could check things off her list the right way. So far, her new powers had only made her life worse. Maybe she could use them to make things a little better.

She stopped in the middle of the hallway and smiled when she spotted Brent Adamson coming toward her. His friends were nowhere in sight.

“Lena, what are you doing?” Abigail asked.

“Um, nothing. You go ahead, okay? I'll catch up.”

Abigail looked uncertain, but then the bell rang again, and she hurried away.

As Brent got closer, Lena put her hand behind her back and willed the energy into her fingertips. They instantly flared with prickly heat, like they'd been waiting for her to use her new power again. Luckily, most kids were in homeroom already, so she didn't have to worry about anyone seeing.

“Hey, Brent!” she said, getting into position. Somewhere in the back of her mind echoed Eddie's warnings about the balance of the universe, but she pushed them down. Things were already royally messed up. Why couldn't she at least get something good out of this whole disaster?

When Brent turned toward her, Lena reached out and gently touched his arm. Instantly, she could feel the energy drain out of her and into him.

Brent stopped as if he'd been struck by lightning. He didn't move, only stared at her like a statue.

“Brent?” She stepped in front of him so that her eyes were directly in line with his. “Are you okay?”

She expected him to react the way the mailman had when he'd looked at Mrs. Katz. She expected him to get a glazed-over look on his face. She even sort of expected him to have cartoon hearts coming out of his chest.

But none of those things happened.

Instead, Brent Adamson backed away from her with a sudden look of green-tinged horror on his face. And then he fled.