Wish Upon a Sleepover Read online

  “Not exactly,” Autumn tells him. “Shyness isn’t…” She pauses. “Shyness isn’t…”

  “Shy people can still talk,” I point out. “I mean, Autumn’s super shy, but she’s talking to us right now.” I pat Autumn on the back.

  By the way Autumn is shuffling in place, I can tell she doesn’t like all the attention. In a few more minutes, she’ll probably have to rush off and use the bathroom.

  Todd scrunches up a candy wrapper and tosses it into a vase. “Then if he’s not shy, what’s his deal? Is he stupid?”

  I have no idea if William is stupid or not. But Autumn, who’s never met him, is quick to jump to his defense. “Selective mutism is not about intelligence, or lack of intelligence. It’s about anxiety. People who have it feel very anxious in certain situations, and that anxiety makes them unable to speak. It’s not a choice.” Sometimes Autumn sounds like she’s ten years older than us.

  Todd crinkles another wrapper, then tosses it at the cereal box. His aim is perfect. “Jeez, Leilani, why’d you invite a kid who doesn’t talk?”

  I still don’t have an explanation. But luckily, I don’t have to answer, because someone knocks on the apartment door.

  “That’s probably him,” I say. Dread sweeps over me. Slowly, I walk toward the door, knowing that when I open it, the last guest will step through and the worst sleepover in the history of the world will officially begin. But what if I don’t open it? Is it too late to end this?

  You’re being kind, and I’m very proud of you, Mom said.

  I reach for the knob. Something feels different. I turn around. Manga Girl, Todd, and Autumn are standing right behind me, so close I can feel Todd’s breath on my head. They’re staring at the door as if some kind of prize is stashed behind it, like on The Price Is Right.

  “Give me some room,” I complain, jabbing Todd with my elbow.

  He takes a step back.

  Last week I stood in the kitchen and made a vow to God that I would never speak to William again. But thanks to Tutu, I’m going to be stuck with him all night. What are we going to do? I didn’t plan any games. Maybe we can play Scrabble. You don’t need to talk during Scrabble. Or maybe we can just watch TV. That’s it, we’ll watch TV all night, and then nobody has to talk to anybody and we’ll fall asleep and it will be over.

  I like that plan.

  Forcing a half smile, I open the door.

  14

  A Soup Mutiny

  William Worth, the boy from the third floor, is wearing his gigantic plaid coat, scuffed leather shoes, and fur hat. He has a red sleeping bag and the suitcase I saw in the elevator, with the stickers all over it—Budapest, Toronto, Los Angeles. Why’d he bring such a big piece of luggage? Does he think he’s staying more than one night?

  “Hi,” I say. That’s about the best I can do. If one of the Haileys had been standing at the door, I would have squealed and bounced around. There would have been hugs and high fives. Come in, come in, welcome to my home! But my smile quickly fades, not that he notices, because he’s staring at the floor.

  The others press against me again, trying to get a good look. Todd practically pushes me out the door. “Come on in,” I say. Todd moves aside, making room for the new kid.

  William drags his suitcase inside. Then he stands there. We’re looking at him. He’s looking at the floor.

  “Okay, so who wants to watch TV?” I ask.

  “TV?” Todd complains. “We can watch TV anytime. This is a party!” He holds out the cereal box to William. “Want some?”

  William glances up, then lowers his eyes again.

  This is going to be the longest night ever.

  The door to Tutu’s bedroom opens, and she shuffles out. Even though it’s only three o’clock in the afternoon, she’s in her pink bathrobe. “Hello, Autumn,” she says. They hug. Then she shows Autumn her pink toenails. The polish has started to chip. “We’re going to get fish for the bathtub so my feet will always look like this.”

  “That’s nice,” Autumn tells her.

  Tutu looks at my other guests.

  “Uh, everyone, this is my great-grandmother, Tutu,” I say. “Tutu, this is Manga—I mean, Tanisha. This is William. And you already know Todd.”

  “Hi, Tutu,” Todd says.

  She glances at the Cheerio box in his hand, then scowls. “I’m not cleaning up after you.” She points to Todd’s feet, where he’s dropped two Cheerios.

  “Oops. Sorry.” He bends down, picks them up, then eats them.

  Tutu pushes her cat-eye glasses up her nose. “Okay, listen closely. I’m the chaperone tonight, so I want to make sure you understand the rules. First rule—no setting fire to anything. Second rule—no drinking alcoholic beverages or smoking anything at all.”

  “You don’t have to worry. We wouldn’t engage in any of those activities,” Autumn assures her.

  “I know you wouldn’t, but these others look a bit wild.” She wags a finger. “And third rule—boys and girls do not share sleeping bags.”

  “Tutu,” I groan, my face heating up.

  She sets her hands on her broad hips. “Any questions about the rules?” We all shake our heads. “Okay, then. Have fun. I’m going to be in my room.” And off she goes, just like that.

  Todd turns the Cheerio box upside down. “Hey, Leilani, it’s empty. You got something else to eat?”

  “You ate that whole box and you’re still hungry?” I ask.

  “I’m an athlete,” Todd says, flexing his biceps. “I need fuel.” He walks over to the stove and takes the lid off the pot. “This smells good. What is it?”

  “Something Tutu made,” I tell him.

  “Can we eat it?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll go ask.”

  If this were my real sleepover, I would serve Hawaiian punch in fancy cups with paper umbrellas. And I would put maraschino cherries in the ice cubes. And we’d have Hawaiian-style potato chips, which are thicker than regular potato chips. Tutu always says that any potato grown in the rich Hawaiian soil is better than all other potatoes because of that whole spirit-force thing. I think she totally made that up.

  “Tutu?”

  She grunts.

  I open her door. She’s propped up in bed, sitting in the dark, the light from the TV flickering on her face. “Are you okay? How come you’re already in your bathrobe?”

  “I’m a little tired, that’s all. I might take a nap.”

  “Can I get you anything?”

  “Not right now.” She changes the channel.

  “Um, Tutu? I was wondering, when you went to the store, what food did you get for the party? I can’t find anything.”

  “I made chicken broth. For the sleepover soup.”

  “Huh?”

  “Don’t worry. I didn’t cut off a chicken’s head. It was already cut off.”

  “But I didn’t want soup.” I am beginning to think that Tutu has selective hearing.

  “This is good Hawaiian soup. Now go. I can’t hear my show. And close the door.”

  “But—”

  “Leilani, I’ve been canning pineapple all day and I’m tired. Go.” She thinks she’s back in Hawaii, in the cannery. She does that sometimes.

  In the kitchen, Manga Girl is sitting with her back against the wall, drawing. Todd and Autumn are at the table. William is standing, staring at the floor. No one is talking. We could be at a funeral, it’s that much fun.

  “So, it looks like we don’t have anything to eat,” I explain.

  Manga Girl scowls at me. “But the invite said Hawaiian luau.”

  “Yes, well, I guess we’re going to have a change of plans.”

  “Did you find out what’s in the pot?” Todd is still holding the lid. Steam rises, carrying with it a lovely salty scent.

  “It’s nothing, just some chicken broth for a weird soup.”

  “You mean sleepover soup?” Autumn points to a card that is lying on the table. The card has a red-checkered border.

  “Slee
pover soup?” Todd asks. “What’s that?”

  “I don’t know,” I say with a shrug. “It’s supposed to be an old Hawaiian tradition. Actually, I’m not even sure it’s a tradition. Tutu makes up stories all the time. I mean, how can soup be magic?”

  “Magic?” Manga Girl closes her sketchbook and leaps to her feet. Even William looks up. “Let me see that.”

  Todd, Autumn, and William crowd around Manga Girl as she holds the recipe card. She reads aloud.

  * * *

  Sleepover Soup

  An ancient Hawaiian recipe handed down from generation to generation. If all directions are followed, this soup is guaranteed to grant wishes.

  1. Begin with a pot of chicken broth simmering on the stove. If you don’t like killing chickens, you can get the broth from a can, but it won’t taste as good.

  2. Each guest must gather a special ingredient for the broth. The special ingredient should come from a special place.

  3. Once the ingredients are added, set the soup beneath the moonlight. Ask Hina-i-ka-malama to bless the soup.

  4. 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.

  * * *

  “Is this for real?” Todd asks.

  “Of course it’s not real,” I say.

  Manga Girl cocks her head. “How do you know?”

  “I know because…” I don’t want them to think that Tutu’s crazy. “I think this is like wishing before you blow out a birthday candle. It’s a nice idea, but there’s no such thing as magic. Am I right?”

  Todd shrugs. “Maybe, maybe not.”

  “What does she mean by a ‘special ingredient’?” Manga Girl asks.

  I try to remember what Tutu said. “I guess it’s something that’s important to you. And it comes from a place that’s important to you. When Tutu was a little girl and she made the soup, she brought taro root because her grandfather owned a taro root farm.”

  Autumn’s hand shoots into the air. Todd lowers his voice, to sound like an adult. “Yes, Miss Maxwell? Do you have a question?”

  Autumn blushes and lowers her hand. “It’s not a question. Actually, it’s a statement.” She steps closer to me. Her voice is still quiet. “I agree with Leilani. Magic doesn’t exist. Besides, I don’t see what kind of physical effect moonlight can have on soup. You can fry an egg on the concrete in sunlight, but moonlight doesn’t heat things up. The moon doesn’t actually produce light. Its light is a reflection from the sun.”

  “What if it’s not scientific?” Manga Girl says. “What if the moon goddess has special powers?”

  I shake my head. We’re not living in a comic book, I want to say.

  Autumn raises her hand again. “You don’t have to do that,” I whisper to her.

  “Oh, right.” She lowers her hand. “I’d like to point out that there’s no evidence that gods or goddesses exist,” she says, her usual rational self. “Therefore, I remain skeptical about the authenticity of the recipe. I say it’s a work of fiction.”

  I put an arm around my best friend’s shoulder. “Exactly what she said.” But even though the debate seems to be over, we still have the problem of having no food. I look into the pot. The broth smells good, but broth is something you eat if you’re getting over the flu—it isn’t a real meal. I begin to feel bad about my lack of planning. “Look, guys, I guess this is all we have. Should we order a pizza?”

  Among the five of us, we only have seven dollars and fifty cents. Tutu’s turned off the TV, which means she’s taking a nap, so I can’t ask her for money. Without food, this night could drag on forever. I wonder if Mom will give us her credit card number so we can order over the phone. I’m about to call her when William clears his throat, startling everyone because it’s easy to forget he’s in the room.

  He walks out of the kitchen, then steps into our coat closet and closes the door. What is he doing in there? We hear muffled sounds. “Did he just say something?” I ask.

  Todd opens the door. “Did you say something?” William, who’s standing between my mom’s suede jacket and my raincoat, grabs the knob and closes the door again. More muffled sounds. Autumn, Manga Girl, Todd, and I press our ears to the door.

  “Yeah, he said something,” Manga Girl confirms.

  “What did he say?” I ask.

  “Dude, we can’t hear you!” Todd hollers. “Talk louder!”

  There’s a pause. Then William’s voice whispers, “I think we should make sleepover soup.”

  “Whoa,” Todd says. “He does talk.” He looks at Autumn. “What do you think, Autumn? Do you want to make the soup?”

  “We…” She swallows hard. “We didn’t bring special ingredients.”

  Todd smiles at her. “We could get them. We could go out right now, and get them.”

  “Like a scavenger hunt?” Manga Girl’s fox ears twitch.

  “Sure,” Todd says.

  Was this some kind of mutiny? What about my plans to sit around and watch TV and let the night pass quickly? “Are you suggesting we leave the apartment and go on a scavenger hunt to find ingredients for a recipe my grandmother made up that doesn’t really work?”

  “Yep.”

  I point toward the window. “But it’ll be dark soon.” One of the cruddy things about Seattle in winter is that it gets dark early.

  “That won’t be a problem because we’ll be in a group,” Todd says. “And we have bus passes, right?”

  “I’m not supposed to leave the neighborhood,” I tell him.

  “Then we won’t leave the neighborhood. We’ll stay on Capitol Hill.”

  Both Manga Girl and Todd are smiling as if we already agreed to go on a scavenger hunt. But we haven’t agreed on anything.

  “Let’s take a vote,” Todd says. “If you wanna make the soup, then raise your hand.” Todd raises his. Manga Girl raises hers. Autumn and I don’t budge.

  “Two to two is a tie,” I say. “So we’re not going.”

  “Wait, there’s one more.” Todd opens the closet door. “Yo, dude, how do you vote? Do you wanna go on a scavenger hunt and make sleepover soup?”

  William steps out of the closet. He shuffles in place. He looks at the ceiling, then at the walls.

  Then he raises his hand.

  Todd punches a fist in the air. “The majority votes yes. Looks like we’re going on a hunt. Who wants to go first?”

  “It’s Leilani’s party,” Autumn says. “Shouldn’t … shouldn’t she decide?”

  Todd nods. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Everyone looks at me and waits.

  I’m not sure what to say. Why am I so against making the soup? I know I’m being stubborn, but part of me doesn’t want my sleepover to be fun. Todd, Manga Girl, and William are here because of a big mistake. I’m prepared to endure the night, like sitting in an oral surgeon’s waiting room, and then it will be all over.

  But the other part of me knows that a scavenger hunt would be entertaining. Even if the wishes don’t come true, it would be something to do.

  I look toward the living room. Hailey’s curtains are closed. I’m dying to know what’s going on over there.

  A bolt of an idea practically knocks me off my feet. What if I go to Hailey Chun’s party to get my special ingredient? I’d get a peek at the Haileys’ secret world.

  “Me!” I blurt. “I’m going first!”

  15

  Elbow Macaroni

  It’s three forty-five. I call Mom and ask her if it’s okay for us to walk around the neighborhood. She says it’s fine as long as we stay together. Since I’m not allowed to have a cell phone until I turn thirteen, Mom gets Todd’s number and Manga Girl’s number, just in case. Then I write a note for Tutu and slide it under her bedroom door.

  We went to get stuff for the sleepover soup. Back soon.

  She can’t be mad. The soup was her idea!

  “Where are we g
oing?” Todd asks.

  “You’ll see.” I turn off the stove, then grab my raincoat from the closet. Autumn gets hers. William is still wearing his plaid coat, and Manga Girl has her cape. Todd insists he doesn’t need a coat, even though he’s wearing shorts.

  “We need something to carry our ingredients,” Todd says as he dumps all the stuff out of his backpack—toothbrush, pajamas, an extra pair of underwear. I cringe. Todd’s tighty-whities are lying on my living room floor! He slings the empty pack over his shoulder. “Okay, I’m good to go.”

  I double-check to make sure I have my apartment key and bus pass. While we wait for the elevator, Manga Girl reaches out and touches William’s hat. “I’m glad it’s fake,” she says. “I don’t like people who wear real fur.” I’m not about to tell her that Tutu has an old mink coat in the back of her closet. It has moth holes in it. I’ve tried it on, and it smells pretty bad, the way an old dog smells. She never wears it.

  When we crowd into the elevator, Manga Girl takes the corner, as usual. Todd takes the center, Autumn and I on either side. William is the last to step in. During the ride, I start to worry a bit. I’m going to tell the Haileys that I’ve stopped by because I’m on a scavenger hunt and it’s part of this amazing sleepover I’m hosting. Hopefully, they’ll be impressed and they’ll want to come to my next sleepover. But what if they see Todd, Manga Girl, and William? They’ll think we’re all friends. Because that’s what a normal person does, right? A normal person invites her friends to a sleepover.

  Once we’re in the lobby, I lead everyone past the ugly plastic plant. A spider has spun its web between the plant and the wall. Because I’m about to go to a new, modern building, I become painfully aware of our chipped floor tiles, the fading paint, and the stacks of junk mail. To makes things worse, the radiator is filling the lobby with hot, stuffy air. It’s such a relief to step outside. The world smells damp, and a breeze cools my face. The pavement is glossy wet. It’s not pouring, just sprinkling enough that car wipers swish as they pass by. Manga Girl tucks her sketchbook beneath her cape.

  “You guys wait here,” I tell them when we get to Hailey’s building. We stand under the awning.