Wish Upon a Sleepover Read online

  “Hey, Todd,” Hailey Chun says, ignoring the rest of us.

  “Hey, Hailey,” he says back. “You guys are eating snow cones in the middle of winter? That’s cool.”

  “Since my theme is Hawaiian luau, I thought we’d come down here and get some shave ice.” She smiles at him. Her ice is bright blue. “What are you doing?”

  “We’re still on that scavenger hunt,” he tells her.

  “Oh, that’s right. Leilani’s sleepover. Are you having fun?” She says the word fun in a snippy way. Then she looks at the other five Haileys and rolls her eyes. I cringe.

  Manga Girl steps in front of me. “For your information, Hailey, we are having fun. Lots of fun. It’s the best scavenger hunt ever. Too bad you weren’t on the ‘DO NOT invite’ list, because, apparently, that’s the list to be on.”

  “What are you talking about?” Hailey asks with a sneer.

  “We’re making magic soup,” Todd tells her. “We have one more ingredient to collect.”

  Heyley MacDonald steps forward. “Magic soup?” Her lips are orange, and she’s shivering. “What’s that?”

  Autumn pushes some curls from her face. “It’s blessed by the moon goddess.” She sounds absolutely certain of this fact.

  “That sounds amazing,” Hayley Ranson says.

  “It sounds stupid.” Hailey Chun begins to cross the street. The others follow, except for Hayley Ranson, who’s looking at me.

  She grips her lime-green shave ice. “Do you think—?”

  “Hayley!” Hailey Chun yells.

  Hayley Ranson hurries to join her.

  When they are out of earshot, I turn to Manga Girl. I can’t believe she stood up for me. Why would she do that? I also can’t believe that I’m about to thank the girl who uses me for “social commentary” in her cartoons, but sometimes you just have to swallow your pride. “Thanks for telling Hailey that you’re having fun at my sleepover. But you don’t have to lie for me.”

  “I didn’t lie,” she says. Then, with a whoosh, she flies into the store.

  “Hello, Leilani. Hello, Autumn,” Mrs. Wong calls. She’s at the counter, next to the cash register. “Where’s Tutu?”

  “She’s waiting for us at home,” I tell her.

  “We close in ten minutes!” Mr. Wong bellows. He’s mopping the floor. “Ten minutes, so finish shopping. Don’t take too long.”

  “He’s cranky because we just had six girls in here buying shave ice,” Mrs. Wong explains. “The machine sprayed ice everywhere. I don’t know why they want to eat ice on such a cold night. And I don’t know why they all have the same name.”

  “No more ice!” Mr. Wong hollers. “We close in five minutes.”

  “Autumn needs something,” I explain, stepping back so Autumn can talk.

  Autumn stands on tiptoe and folds her hands on the counter. “Mrs. Wong, do you have any chocolate-covered macadamia nuts? I don’t need a whole box. I just need one. Do they come individually wrapped?”

  “Just one?” Mrs. Wong looks over her glasses. “But what about your friends?”

  “It’s for a project,” Autumn says. “Just one will do. We’re making magic soup.”

  Mrs. Wong nods thoughtfully. “Magic soup.” She smiles. “I have an open box in my office. Since you are a loyal customer, I’ll share one with you.” She hurries away, and just as Mr. Wong hollers “We’re closed!” she’s back. She hands Autumn a little sandwich bag with a single chocolate-covered macadamia nut inside.

  “Thank you,” Autumn says. Then she looks at me. “We can go now.”

  Even though I’m hungry, and tired, and worried that Tutu will be worried, I don’t leave. Standing in that market, surrounded by the foods from Tutu’s homeland, I realize something. Each of my sleepover guests has collected an ingredient for the soup that is meaningful to them. But that box of elbow macaroni isn’t important to me. Not anymore.

  “Mrs. Wong, do you have taro root?” I ask.

  “Certainly.”

  “We’re closed!” Mr. Wong yells from the back room.

  “Could I get just a tiny piece? That’s all I need.”

  “Let me guess,” she says, putting a finger to her chin. “For the magic soup?” I nod. She reaches into a drawer and takes out a small knife. Then we walk over to the produce aisle. I find the taro right away. It’s shaped like a potato, only the skin is a deep, dark brown. Mrs. Wong cuts it in half. “Here you are. No charge. Now go, before my husband’s head pops off.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Wong!” we all say, except for William, of course.

  We hurry to my apartment building. But while the others wait in the lobby, I run over to Hailey Chun’s building and hand the box of elbow macaroni to the doorman. “Could you give this back to Hailey? I don’t need it anymore.”

  Tutu’s in the kitchen. She’s wearing her pink bathrobe and making herself a cup of tea. “You’re back,” she says, not seeming one bit worried. “How was your adventure?”

  “It was great!” Todd exclaims. “We got all the stuff for the soup.”

  We pile the coats and shield onto a chair. Then Todd unpacks the ingredients and sets them on the kitchen table. Tutu pulls her cat-eye glasses from her bathrobe pocket and slides them onto her nose. “Candy, grass, popcorn, a chocolate-covered macadamia nut?” She picks up the root. “Who chose taro?”

  “Me,” I tell her. The skin around her eyes crinkles. She’s smiling! It’s not very often that Tutu smiles that big, with her whole face.

  “Hey, do I smell pizza?” Todd charges into the living room.

  “I thought you’d be hungry,” Tutu explains.

  Hungry? I’m famished! Two pizza boxes sit on the coffee table, along with paper plates, napkins, and sodas.

  “Cheese!” Todd belts. “My favorite!” He grabs a slice, then sticks another slice on top.

  “I’m not sleeping next to him tonight,” I whisper to Autumn.

  Manga Girl opens the second box. “This one’s Hawaiian.”

  Autumn carefully chooses a slice and sets it neatly on a plate. “I’ll never understand why it’s called Hawaiian if it’s made with Canadian bacon.”

  Tutu lets us know that she’s going to bed and that we aren’t to disturb her unless King Kamehameha himself rises from the dead and asks for her. “And I’m not cleaning up your messes.” Then her bedroom door closes.

  We stuff our faces. I eat two slices of Hawaiian, then split a third slice with Autumn. She nibbles on the cheesy part, avoiding the crust. When my stomach feels like it might burst, I lean against the couch pillows. Manga Girl’s still eating. So is Todd. William’s taken off his hat, but he sits cross-legged on the floor, staring at his plate. That’s when I realize he hasn’t eaten a bite. I’m not sure what to do to help him feel better.

  Manga Girl looks up from her pizza and watches William for a moment. Her fox ears twitch. Then she grabs her sketchbook. “Hey, William, I know how to cheer you up. Wanna see the cartoon I drew of Belle?” She opens the book and holds it up. We all gasp. She’s going to let us see? We push our plates aside and scoot closer.

  In the first frame, a black cat is sitting alone, looking very angry. A chain hangs from the cat’s neck, and at the end of the chain is a big metal ball, and on that ball is the word Cancer. In the next few frames, a boy with a fur hat and big plaid coat walks up to the cat. He’s holding a pair of wire cutters, and on the cutters is the word Love. The boy cuts the chain. In the last frame, the boy is holding the cat, who is now free of the cancer. Both the boy and the cat are smiling.

  “Wow, that’s really good,” Todd says. “It looks just like William.”

  Manga Girl signs the bottom corner, then tears the cartoon from her sketchbook and hands it to William. He manages a half smile, but his pale eyes are still full of sadness. I’m not mad at Manga Girl anymore. I don’t really care what she drew of me, because the cartoon of Belle and William is the nicest cartoon I’ve ever seen.

  “Did you draw one of me?” Todd ask
s.

  “Yep.” She flips through the pages, then shows us the drawing. There’s Todd, with his long skinny legs, short dark hair, and uniform. He stands next to an empty bench, holding a basketball. Icicles hang from the bench. I furrow my brow, trying to figure it out.

  “Oh, I get it,” Todd says after a minute. “It’s got icicles because I’m not warming it anymore.” He laughs. She signs it and gives it to him.

  “I made one of you.” Now it’s Autumn’s turn. Manga Girl turns the page and shows us a drawing of a girl with lots of curls and super big eyes. She’s wearing a hat, like the ones Manga Girl wears, but it has squirrel ears. She also has a big, bushy squirrel tail. She stands next to a nest that’s filled with macadamia nuts. Autumn squeals because it makes her so happy. Manga Girl signs it and hands it over.

  Each drawing is better than the last. She’s really good.

  “What about Leilani?” Todd asks. “Did you draw one of her?”

  My mood suddenly sours. I narrow my eyes at Manga Girl. Don’t you dare show them that mean cartoon, I think. But apparently, reading minds isn’t one of Fox Girl’s superpowers, because she opens the sketchbook to that horrid drawing of the letters attacking me. While everyone else leans forward, I fall back against the pillows. “Don’t bother signing it,” I grumble. “I don’t want it.”

  Todd takes another bite of pizza. “How come?”

  “She’s making fun of the fact that I have trouble reading.”

  Autumn nudges me. “You should look at it. It’s very nice.”

  Nice? I take the drawing from Manga Girl. The worst part is the waiting, so I might as well get this over with, I tell myself.

  The girl in the cartoon has long black hair and is kind of plump, like me, but she wears a cape. In the first frame, the letters are attacking her. But in the other frames, she’s wrestling them to the ground and tying them up, the way a cowboy ties a calf at a rodeo. In the last frame, she stands proudly on top of a mountain of letters, her hands on her hips. A conquering hero.

  “Thanks,” I say with surprise.

  We cram onto the couch together, even William, and we look through Manga Girl’s sketchbook. She’s drawn a cartoon of the Haileys as identical robots. There’s a drawing of Mr. Pine putting all his students to sleep because he’s so boring. There are some realistic drawings of foxes, raccoons, and cats. There are a bunch of self-portraits of Manga Girl in her different hats. She turns to the last page, where she’s started a new self-portrait. This final drawing is different from the others because the lines are darker and there’s no hat on her head. As we stare at the drawing, a beam of light shines on our faces.

  “Look!” For the first time all night, Autumn’s voice is so loud it startles everyone. She points out the window. The clouds have drifted away and a crescent moon hangs above Hailey Chun’s apartment, like a smile—its light shining right through my window. A shiver of excitement dances up my spine.

  “Do you guys still want to make the soup?” I ask.

  23

  Moonlight Wishes

  I turn the burner to medium and warm up the broth. Then I take the lid off the pot. Todd dumps in all the popcorn, including some unpopped kernels. Using my mom’s cooking shears, William snips some blades of wheatgrass, then sprinkles them onto the surface, where they float. The macadamia nut sinks to the bottom, along with the Hi-Chew. I dice the taro root with a steak knife, drop in the pieces, then stir with a wooden spoon. As the Hi-Chew dissolves, the golden broth turns pink. “Blech! This soup is gonna taste disgusting.”

  “I don’t think taste is what matters,” Autumn says. “I think this is all about the process.”

  “What do you mean?” Manga Girl asks.

  “The process of gathering the ingredients. Working together.”

  “Working as a team,” Todd adds.

  Autumn grabs the recipe card. I find a ladle and some paper cups. Then, after turning off the stove, I give two oven mitts to Todd so he can carry the pot. We take the stairs to the roof. The rooftop garden is one of my favorite places. There are a couple of wooden benches and a table for picnics. In the summer, some of the tenants plant tomatoes, herbs, and flowers. There’s a big striped umbrella for shade and a pair of bird feeders. But it’s winter, so the containers are empty and the umbrella is in storage. Luckily, the table and benches are still out.

  The moon floats overhead, as if waiting for us. Todd puts the pot on the table. I remove the lid.

  “What are we supposed to do now?” Todd asks.

  Autumn reads the recipe card. “It says, ‘Once the ingredients are added, set the soup beneath the moonlight. Ask Hina-i-ka-malama to bless the soup. Everyone makes a wish and takes a sip of soup. If all instructions are followed, the wishes will come true. Important note: The magic won’t work unless everyone participates.’”

  “I think Leilani should talk to Hina,” Manga Girl suggests. “Since it’s her family recipe.”

  I suddenly feel silly, standing on the roof, about to talk to a moon goddess. What am I supposed to say? Unlike Autumn and Todd, I’ve never had stage fright, but with everyone looking at me, expecting some kind of amazing speech, I feel uncomfortable. And cold. Why didn’t I grab my coat?

  “I … I…”

  “I’ll do it,” Todd volunteers. He steps onto one of the benches and raises his hands to the sky. Then he looks down at me. “You okay if I do it?” he asks.

  “Sure,” I say.

  Todd turns his face to the moon. “Hey, moon goddess, lady, we made this soup and we need you to shine your beams and do whatever it is you do so our wishes will come true. We hope you’ll help us out. Thanks from all of us—me, Tanisha, Autumn, William, and Leilani.” He steps off. “That should do it.” It wasn’t poetry, but I don’t think I could have done any better.

  Using the ladle, I pour soup into each cup.

  “Everyone, close your eyes and make a wish,” Autumn whispers.

  I don’t close my eyes. Instead, I focus on the rooftop across the street. Last summer, Hailey Chun had a birthday party on her roof. Her family decorated the roof with strings of paper lanterns, and I could hear the music from my bedroom. For most of the school year, I’ve longed to become one of the Haileys. To be a member of their club. To sit with them at lunch. To go to all their parties. That could be my wish.

  But my gaze drifts back to my sleepover guests, the ones from the “DO NOT invite” list. Their eyes are closed. Each looks happy, thinking about the thing they long for. But William looks like he’s in pain. His eyes are squeezed super tight, his lips moving silently as he makes his wish. I know what he wants.

  I close my eyes and wish and wish and wish.

  “Everyone done?” I ask.

  We open our eyes and pick up the cups of soup. The pink mixture looks fluorescent in the moonlight. Autumn plugs her nose. William grimaces.

  “Ready, set, go!” Todd says. And we each take a sip.

  “Bleh!”

  “Ack!”

  “Gross!”

  It’s really salty, probably from the popcorn, and there’s a sickly sweet flavor as well. I’m not sure if I swallowed a piece of candy or a chunk of taro, but I make sure not to spit it out. I want that wish. I want it more than I’ve ever wanted anything.

  It’s done. We gathered the ingredients. We made our wishes. We drank the soup. Now it’s up to the moon goddess. She’ll either bless us or not.

  Todd lowers his cup. “Uh-oh,” he says. He puts his hand over his gut. There’s a deep, rumbling sound, like a storm gathering in the distance. “The cheese pizza has landed.”

  With a shriek, we run toward the stairwell, leaving Todd behind to stink up the roof.

  24

  A New League

  That Monday, after my sleepover, Autumn and I are sitting in our usual spot, next to the big round table. Autumn has her perfectly packed lunch—crustless cheese sandwich, orange slices, and apple juice. I have the cafeteria special—chicken burger and Tater Tots. The H
aileys are talking, but I’m not eavesdropping. I can’t stop yawning. “Jeez, I’m still tired.”

  “Me too,” Autumn says, rubbing her eyes.

  No one got any sleep at my sleepover. We spread our sleeping bags on the floor and stayed up all night, drawing cartoons, reading issues of Critter League that Manga Girl had brought, and talking about stuff, like the scariest movies we’d seen (I got scared just hearing the descriptions), the most embarrassing things that had ever happened to us (Autumn confessed the pee incident), and my personal favorite, how we all agreed that making new friends isn’t easy. Even though William had the shield by his side the whole night, he didn’t say anything. But he seemed content to listen.

  When Mom came home at 4:00 AM, we were still awake, so she made us scrambled eggs before she went to bed. At some point during the night, Manga Girl took off her fox hat. I guess she was comfortable enough to let us see the real Tanisha. I was worried that we might get sick from the soup. But none of us had more than a sip. Not even Todd, who eats everything. It was truly the worst soup I’ve ever tasted, but making it was one of the craziest adventures I’ve ever had. It stung that Hailey Chun didn’t like me, but that seemed to matter less and less as the night passed. And when I said good-bye to everyone yesterday, I realized that I hadn’t looked over at Hailey’s apartment. Not once!

  “Hey.”

  I stop eating my chicken burger. Manga Girl is standing next to me, holding a sack lunch and her sketchbook. She’s wearing her new raccoon hat. “Hi, Tanisha,” I say.

  “You can call me Manga Girl. I kind of like it.” She glances at the empty chair. Does she want to eat lunch with us? I look at Autumn. Autumn shrugs.

  “Uh, you wanna … sit with us?” I ask.

  Her raccoon ears twitch. “Okay.” She smiles and sits. I wonder if she’s still worried that we might spill her secret. But she doesn’t have to worry. I’m not going to tell anyone that the only thing Tanisha Washington is hiding beneath her hat is a totally normal head. It’s her secret to do with as she wishes. Besides, it’s kind of cool to have a friend who can draw and who people think has horns.