Spells & Sleeping Bags #3 (27 page)

“But she never listens!”

I can't help noticing the pain on Fake Me's face. I know how she feels. I can see her memories. I know what she wants more than anything in the world. “Why don't you try listening to
her
?” I suggest.

The kitchen is quiet.

“Now, there's an idea,” my mom finally says.

“She doesn't care,” Fake Me says. “She never has.”

Her tough-girl act doesn't fool me for a second. Her lips are quivering and she looks like she's about to cry. “Tell her, Liana,” I prod gently. “Tell her how lonely you are. Tell her how much you hate boarding school. Tell her how much you need her.”

“What for?” Her voice breaks. “I've told her before, but she didn't listen. She
never
listens.”

“I'm listening now, so talk,” Sasha says impatiently.

“But you don't care! You don't care that I hate school. It's like you want me to be miserable. You don't care about me at all!”

“Of course I do.”

If this were me and my mom, at this point we'd give each other a big hug, proclaim our love, and probably cry a little. But this isn't my family. Well, okay, maybe it is, but it's the wacko side of the family. (Every family has a wacko side, right?)

Fake Me stomps her heel into the carpet. “If you care about me, why don't you want to spend any time with me?”

Sasha closes her eyes. “Liana,” she says slowly, “we both know that you're better off without me.”

Fake Me throws her arms up in the air. “Are you crazy?”

“I could never be a good mother,” Sasha continues. “I was never good at anything. Ask Carol.”

My mother looks up in surprise. “What are you talking about?”

“About growing up. I was never good enough in school. I was never popular. I was never pretty.”

“Of course you were!”

“No, I wasn't! Not naturally. Anything I wanted I had to use magic to get. I was never good at anything on my own. Not like you. You didn't need magic to make friends. To do well in school. To make men fall in love with you.” She looks at me and Miri. “To be a good mother.”

“You were always so insecure,” my mom says, shaking her head. “I never understood why. The magic you were capable of even as a little kid . . . I was so envious.”

“You were not!”

“Of course I was! But you refused to see that. It always amazed me that someone so powerful could have so little confidence.”

“How could I have confidence when I had Miss Perfect as an older sister? Everyone always loved you best. Mom. Dad. People fell over themselves to be near you.” She turns back to Liana. “You had the right idea, switching places with Rachel. You would have been better off with Carol as your mother.”

“Maybe.” Fake Me looks up at her mother and, her voice cracking, says, “But all I ever wanted was to spend time with you.”

Sasha's eyes lock onto her daughter's. Then she nods. “Fine.”

“Fine what?” Liana asks.

“If you hate it
that
much at Miss Rally's,” Sasha says softly, “then we'll figure something else out.”

As long as she doesn't appear as a JFK High sophomore, I'm a happy girl.

“Now, Liana, if you don't mind,” my mom says, picking her nails, “can you switch back with my daughter, please?”

“No,” Liana says, finally breaking the eye contact with her mother. “There are still other things I want.”

What? She wants my soul? My room? My pink suede designer sneakers?
What?

Liana leans against the kitchen counter, a determined look on her face. “No more trips,” she says to her mother.

Sasha hesitates. “Not even with you?”

Liana half smiles. “Of course
with
me.”

“What else?” Sasha asks.

“Um, can I have a sister?”

“No way.”

Liana's face falls. Uh-oh. Is that the deal-breaker? “You can hang out with Prissy,” I offer. Liana doesn't answer. “She loves to braid your hair,” I say, “and this way you get the best of both worlds. You can return her to her parents whenever she gets whiny.” I'm not sure how Dad and Jennifer would react to my bargaining off their daughter, though I'm pretty sure they'd appreciate the free babysitting.

“I'll think about it,” Liana says, appearing to consider the offer.

Sasha takes her daughter's wrist. “Liana, you'll do it. How can I give real parenting a try if you're not in your own body?”

“All right,” Liana says. “But only if you dissolve the prison anklet on my real body right now.”

“As soon as we get home.”

“No, now. Before I change.”

“Fine,” Sasha says. “Carol, do you happen to have any soy milk?” She opens her purse and takes out a packet of salt.

My mom points to the fridge. “Help yourself.”

A few seconds and a de-ankling spell later, Sasha has freed Liana's body, aka me, and my cousin is appeased.

Phewf.

“Do we need one too?” Miri asks, looking down at her feet.

“I did yours last night before you left camp,” my mom says.

Aw, Mom, so thoughtful.

“Now switch back, Liana,” Sasha orders.

“Hold on,” I say, raising my hand. “Now there's something I want.” All heads turn toward me. I motion to my aunt and my mother. “Before we switch, I'd like to know what happened between the two of you.”

“Yeah,” says Miri. “Why don't you two speak to each other?”

My mom doesn't answer.

“A clean slate?” the real me reminds her.

“It's hard for me to talk about,” my mom says.

Sasha dives right in. “Carol killed our mother,” she says bluntly.

Oh. My. God.

“She had a stroke, Sasha,” my mom says.

Sasha points a long red fingernail at her sister. “It was your one screwup, but it was a biggie. Mom had a stroke. And you could have saved her. You could have healed her. But you didn't.”

“I couldn't,” my mom says.

The red claw is still pointed at my mother. “Why?” Sasha asks, her voice full of contempt. “Because Miss Perfect thought that using witchcraft was beneath her? Please. You're only a nonpracticing witch when it suits you. When someone's life is at stake, you act, Carol. You do what you have to do. I will never forgive you for letting her die.”

Miri grips my hand.

“Is it me you can't forgive?” my mom asks. “Or is it you? Let me remind you, you weren't here when it happened. You were in Paris with Liana's father. Or was it London? It's hard to keep track. You kept running off on us.”

“I needed to be on my own,” Sasha says, eyes flashing. “I needed to be someplace where everyone didn't always compare me to you.”

“That's no excuse for the way you acted. Not telling us how to reach you! Why are you always so immature? By the time you came back, it was too late. She had been gone a year.”

Sasha turns white. “Not a day goes by that I don't wish I'd been here. But I wasn't. I was a terrible daughter, and I admit it. But you!” she spits at my mother. “You were here, and you did nothing. You should have saved her.”

Tears stream down my mother's cheeks. “You don't think I wanted to? Do you think I wanted her to die?”

My sister and I immediately move next to our mom and put our arms around her.

“But you're right,” Mom says sadly. “I could have saved her. And I didn't.”

I suppress a gasp. “Why not?”

My mother doesn't speak for a moment. She lowers her head into her hands, then slowly raises it and says, “To save a human life, another human life gets taken.”

Whoa. Heavy.

“You should have cast the spell anyway!” Sasha screams.

“She wouldn't let me. She said she could never live with that kind of guilt. And she didn't want me to live with it either. Dad wouldn't let Mom use it on him when he was sick. We were young, but I remember. And Mom listened to him.”

“Well, Mom was wrong. And so were you,” Sasha says flatly. “You just let her die.”

“I didn't know what to do. I hesitated and I hesitated and I hesitated. And then it was too late. She was gone.”

Sasha shakes her head. “You should have done it.”

“But, Mom,” Fake Me says, looking up at her mother, “anyone could have died in her place. Someone you loved. Or what if it had been you?”

Sasha blinks twice. “And then you never would have been born.”

If only we would have been so lucky. Kidding. Kind of.

We're all silent.

Sasha looks down at her hands. “I just miss her so much. Maybe I needed someone to blame.”

My mom puts her hand on her sister's shoulder. “She missed Dad. She said that she was ready. That she was needed somewhere else. That he was waiting for her.”

The lights flicker off and then on. And then they do it again.

We all look up.

“Who did that?” Sasha asks.

“Not me,” says my mom.

“Not me,” says Miri.

“Not me,” says Fake Me.

“Don't look at me!” I say.

“Do you think . . . ?” Mom asks.

We look at one another in wonder.

“Hey, she was a witch,” Miri says. “Anything is possible.”

Liana jumps up, eyes blazing. “Maybe we can contact my dad.”

“What happened to your father?” my mom asks.

“Aunt Sasha turned him into a mouse,” I say.

“She did not!” my mother protests, shocked. “Sasha, you didn't!”

“She did,” Fake Me says. “She told me.”

“I never actually did that,” Sasha admits. “But I wanted to.”

“You mean my dad is alive?” Fake Me asks excitedly.

“Presumably,” my aunt says with a shrug.

My mother shakes her head. “I can't believe you told your daughter that you turned her father into a rodent. Though Sasha was always obsessed with rodents,” she tells Miri and me. “She used to have a pet mouse.”

Sasha laughs. “I called him Mickey.”

How original.

“Does he know about me?” Fake Me asks.

“He knows that you exist, but I wouldn't let him have anything to do with you.”

“Did he know that you were a witch?” the real me asks.

Sasha sighs. “Yes. He's a wizard.”

Fake Me squeals.

“Don't get too excited,” Sasha says. “He's not a very good one.”

Fake Me takes off for the door. “Let's go find him!”

My mother clears her throat. “Um, don't you think we should switch you back before you go gallivanting across the globe? You probably want your father to see the real you, right?”

“Oh, right.” She looks down at my uneven chest. “I don't want him to think I'm deformed or anything.”

Gee, thanks.

Good-bye, boobs; hello, me.

I hope it all works out for Liana; really I do.

Still, I feel pretty confident that I got the better end of the deal.

20
IT'S ABOUT TIME

“Is it wrong that I'm relieved they're gone?” Miri asks. The three of us are sprawled across the living room couch. Miri's head is resting on one end, mine is on the other, and our feet are meeting in the middle on our mother's legs. I love my feet. I also love my legs. And my head and my ocean hair and every single part of me that is mine, mine, mine.

“They were a little overbearing,” my mom says. “I have to admit that I'm relieved too. You girls should appreciate how lucky you are that you get along so well.”

My sister's eyes meet mine over our mother. “We do,” she says. “Nothing will ever come between us again.”

“New household rule,” I say. “Miri will never worry that your family doesn't care about her.”

“Accepted.”

“Good one,” says my mom.

“New household rule,” says Miri. “Rachel will never take her sister for granted again.”

“Or her mother,” my mom adds.

“Accepted,” I say. “I will also never complain about how much my life sucks. In fact, I am no longer allowed to complain at all.”

“Especially now that you've got game,” my mom says, giving me one of her big freakish winks.

I wink back. “You mean since I've got Glinda.”

To illustrate my point, I zap us up three cups of hot chocolate.

My mom rubs her knuckles against the inside of my foot, making me giggle. “So tell me, Rachel. How exactly did your magic get so good when you weren't supposed to be practicing at camp?”

La, la, la. Distraction! Quick! “Omigod, Mom, did I tell you that I finally learned to swim?”

“It's true,” Miri says, reading the SOS signal in my expression. “Isn't that exciting? And I learned to play tennis.”

“I also learned to pee in the woods,” I add.

My mom laughs. “You can pretend that Rachel didn't use her powers during the summer all you want, girls. I won't call you on it.”

Phewf.

She stretches out her arms and pats our heads. “But I'm glad you brought up these new rules. Because I'm going to spend the rest of the year enforcing them.”

I guess I walked right into that one. “No problem, Mom. Rule away. But I need to know where you stand on one particular issue immediately.”

“Oh yeah? Which one? Homework spells? Zapping up cupcakes? Broom flying?”

“No,” I say with a smile. “Boyfriends.”

First we call my dad's house.

“Are you both on the phone?” he asks.

“Miri's right beside me,” I say.

“Hold on, let me get Jennifer.”

There's a pause and muffled noise, and then “We have news!” my dad and Jennifer say simultaneously. “We're pregnant!”

Miri and I stare at each other. And I can see the kaleidoscope of my emotions—the delight, the excitement, and the fear—reflected in her face. Sure, we want a new sibling, and we're happy for them, but we can't help wondering how it'll affect our relationship with our dad. What if he doesn't have time for us anymore? What if he loves the new baby more than he loves us? What if I—

Deep breath.

“Congrats,” I murmur. “Congrats!” I repeat with more enthusiasm.

“I can't believe it,” Miri says, shaking her head. Then she grins. “I hope it's a girl.”

“Me too.” Would be a great excuse to break out those Barbies.

Next I call Tammy. “I missed you!” I shriek.

“I missed you! she shrieks.

“I missed you more!” I shriek.

After a half hour of discussing who missed whom more and making plans for the next day, I call Alison.

“I honestly don't know what came over me,” she says. “I found matches and a pack of cigarettes on my shelf and I just took them to the bathroom and lit up. I have no excuse. No idea what I was thinking. I had a weird headache that day and I guess it made me act crazy. . . .”

“Did your parents ground you for life?” I ask her guiltily. Her getting kicked out of camp was—indirectly—my fault.

“At first,” she says. “But then my brother got me a volunteer job at the hospital, and they started to loosen up.”

“How was that?”

“Amazing. The best job ever,” she gushes. “I'm sorry I haven't written, but they kept me so busy there! I got to help with all the patients. And you're not going to believe this, but I'm dating one of the other volunteers! He says he knows you. Jeffrey Zeigster? He went to JFK and was on student council last year. He's so smart and cute.”

Smart? Yes. He was the only student council member chosen because of his GPA. Cute? Well . . . to each her own.

I invite her to hang out with me and Tammy the next day. I just know they'll get along great.

I'm about to make another call when Miri pops into my room. “Before you tie up the line, do you mind if I use it?”

“Sure.” Wait a sec. Miri never uses the phone. “Why? We already spoke to Dad.”

Her cheeks redden and she fiddles with her fingers. “I was going to give Ariella a call. You know? From school. I thought I'd see if she wanted to get together. Maybe.”

I am speechless.

“Is that a dumb idea?” she asks, eyes wide with uncertainty.

“Actually,” I say, struggling to keep my voice nonchalant while my insides scream,
Go, Miri, go,
“I think it's a great idea.”

While Miri calls Ariella, I run to my mom's room and whisper to her about what's taking place.

“Really?” she asks excitedly. “She's making a friend?”

I shush her as Miri joins us.

“Mom?” Miri asks. “Is it okay if I go to Ariella's apartment? Some of the girls in my class are there and—”

“Yes!” my mom quickly exclaims.

“Yay!” I cheer.

“You guys are so embarrassing,” Miri says, but the smile lighting up her face tells a different story.

Finally, I call Raf.

“Hey,” I say. “What are you doing?”

“I was just about to call you.”

Wahoo! “Wanna come over tonight?”

“Sure. Around nine?”

After he arrives and says hello to my mom and Miri, I take him up to the roof for some privacy. It's one of the best parts of the building. Its floor is Tarmac and it isn't fancy, but it has a great view of downtown, and at night, the city lights twinkle like stars in the sky.

“Can you believe we're starting school in a few weeks?” he asks.

Honk!

“Not really,” I say, distracted. The scene is almost perfect, but something is missing.

Honk! Honk!

He takes my hand. “The summer went by so fast.”

Honk! Honk! Honk!

“Too fast,” I say.

“Do you ever think the honking sounds like music?” Raf asks.

Aha! Music! I close my eyes and make a wish:

For the moment to be just right,

Serenade us with a song tonight.

And then, as if from a loudspeaker in the sky, the beginning bars of Frank Sinatra's “New York, New York” ring through the late-night air.

But for some reason, Sinatra is singing,
“Thtart thpreading the newth. . . .”

I never said my spells were perfect.

If Raf is surprised to hear music suddenly floating through the sky, he doesn't let on. Not that it's so unusual. After all, this is New York, the city that never sleeps. The city where dreams come true.

“Dance with me,” he says.

Finally. The Spring Fling, prom, the camp social . . . I've been waiting a long time for this moment. “I'd be happy to,” I say.

He pulls me into his arms. But instead of dancing, he smiles and finally, finally kisses me.
Really
kisses me.

“Wow,” he says, eyes widening. “That was amazing. Our best kiss ever.”

Wow is right. “I should hope so,” I say, since this time it's really me. I pull him in for round two.

And it's absolutely magical.