Stirring Up Trouble (3 page)

“At least this works out well for you.” She bit into her sandwich again.

“How’s that exactly?” Maybe I was missing something.

She held up her hand and swallowed. “Well, you already know Jake’s mom is cool. So you don’t have to worry about some horrid girlfriend.” She popped some M&M’s in her mouth.

Anya knew all about my stepmonster fears. “I like his mom,” I said, propping my chin in my hand, “and now I have to watch her with my dad. That’s not good. My dad isn’t good enough for her.” Dad couldn’t be trusted.

“Well, that’s true,” Anya agreed.

“He’ll either bug the crap out of her or dump her. And it’s not like I can warn her. She’ll think I’m just being obnoxious.” I forced the lump of sandwich down with some water and gave up on my lunch.

“Maybe your mom can pick you up early,” Anya suggested. “Shopping might help.”

We’d done lots of shopping after the divorce. “I don’t think I’m even going to tell her. Plus, she’s at the hospital rocking sick babies.”

“Your mom is such a good person,” Anya said, clearly impressed. “She works all the time, and then when she has a vacation, she donates her time. She’s really something.”

She was something all right. If Anya knew the whole story, she might not be so complimentary. “She’s a better person than Dad,” I compromised.

Anya’s icy blue eyes, courtesy of contact lenses, widened with pity. “Poor Jake,” she said. “Maybe I should call him.”

Of course, I thought. What could be more perfect than Anya and Jake getting back together because of my dad?

When I got out of school, I found four text messages from Milo on my cell phone. He really needed to work on that whole patience thing.

Milo used his spells to work on feeding the homeless. He’d never admitted to using any spells on animals. Although, his guinea pig had been alive for eight years. Either he was using the potion, or his mom and dad had been replacing him at regular intervals. I wasn’t sure which was more likely.

He’d only been waiting a week. But he knew the results were coming today, and he was apparently freaking out.

Milo had discovered a way to combine spells and multiply objects, including cans of food, by ten. His goal was to help the poor. A month ago, he’d managed the spell. But it had taken a while to get my dad in touch with his old chemist pal who could evaluate the nutritional value of the food. We were a little fearful that the multiplication process robbed the vegetables of some nutrients. Milo really didn’t want to feed vegetables with fewer nutrients to the poor. They had enough problems already.

The fourth text message indicated that Milo was coming a little unglued. He’d spelled two of the words wrong. Since there were only four in each message, two was a lot. Milo, the champion speller, had messed up half the words in “R they there yet?” He’d written “S the there yet?”

I turned the power off on the phone. No way was I talking to him until I had the results. And they’d better be good.

After the bus let me off at my stop, I turned the phone on again. I hated feeling cut off from the world.

I found a text from my dad. He had the results for Milo. He’d emailed them to me. I didn’t pull them up on my phone. Instead, I unlocked the house and ran up to my room. The results were great. Milo’s spell worked like, well, a charm. He’d turned one can of vegetables into ten and hadn’t lost any of the nutritional value.

I pressed “2” on my cell and waited for it to dial Milo.

“Do you have them?” He sounded so anxious.

“Of course, I do. Otherwise, I’d still be dodging your calls.”

“Tell me.”

Overlooking the possible rude factor wasn’t hard. I knew he was excited. “Okay, Okay. They were perfect. The potatoes, the carrots, and the beans. They all had the right vitamins, fiber, everything.”

“And the corn?”

“Same thing. No problems. I already forwarded you the spreadsheet.” I stood and picked up my laundry basket full of dirty clothes. Doing laundry was a lot less boring when I talked on the phone. Besides, I needed some clothes to pack for Dad’s.

“I can’t believe it.” I heard a touch of the shy child in his voice.

“Well, believe it. You just found a way to feed ten times as many people at the food bank.” I grinned. “If there’s a nuclear war, I definitely want you in my bomb shelter. We’d never run out of canned food.”

“Do you realize what this means?”

“Yeah, I just said so.” Padding down the stairs, I tried not to drop the phone or the laundry.

“I took two charms and blended them, and came up with a third. And it works. The possibilities are endless.”

“Amazing, isn’t it. Whoever gave you the idea?” I gave myself a mental pat on the back for clearing the laundry room door without dropping anything.

“You did, you big dork.”

The idea had come to me about two months ago. I figured that he might be able to mix his spells like I mixed my potions. “Big dork? Or brilliant dork?”

“Neither,” he said. “Thanks for the idea. But the spells were all me.”

“I’m proud of you.” A quick check told me the washer was empty. I dumped my jeans and darks into the machine.

“My parents are going to flip out.”

I pictured Milo’s parents. “They’re going to be really proud of you.” His mom ran a food bank, and his dad was a youth minister. They didn’t use magic much, but they wanted Milo to master his spells.

“I’m not going to tell them yet.” I could almost hear Milo rubbing his hands together like a genius hatching a plan. “I’m going to run out later and multiply all the food at the food pantry. Then, she’ll find it when she opens in the morning.”

“Do it. It’ll be great.”

I could hear his smile as he spoke. “I think I will. Tell your dad thanks for me. You’re so lucky to have a scientist for a dad.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up your dad.”

He knew I wasn’t dealing well with the separation situation. “It’s okay. I am lucky he’s a scientist. I just wish I were lucky in some other ways too.”

“I forgot to ask you. Did you try that potion to multiply food?”

“Yeah,” I admitted. Next stop, the kitchen for some caffeine.

“I take it that your potion didn’t work.”

“It worked.” I’d turned one small can of asparagus into a big restaurant-sized container. Like the world needed more asparagus anyway. “The asparagus had a funny taste though.”

Milo gagged into the phone. “Asparagus. How could you even tell it didn’t taste right?”

“I couldn’t. Obviously. I had my mother try it.” We were down to one can of Coke. I hoped Mom was on top of the grocery situation.

“Are you sure it tasted funny?”

“My mother has very reliable taste buds.” She did. Even if she did eat something as gross as asparagus.

“Too bad. We could have done a lot between the two of us.”

“You still can.” I popped open the can and chugged.

“Hang on,” Milo said. A few seconds later, he was back. “Zoe. I have to go. It’s Darlene.”

“Darlene?” I tried not to show my surprise. “Isn’t that the cheerleader you like?”

“Yeah.”

“You dog!” I teased. “Good luck.”

“Bye.” He hung up.

I pushed end. Milo really liked this girl, but I never thought she’d like him. Oh sure, he’d changed since elementary school. He’d grown to almost six feet and slimmed down. And he’d gotten contacts last year. I knew he looked good, but I didn’t trust anyone to appreciate him like I did. As a friend of course. I’d never considered him as anything other than a friend.

Darlene apparently had. I groaned. If Milo started dating Darlene, I’d be the last of my friends to find a boyfriend. Well, in Milo’s case, a girlfriend. I really didn’t like the idea of being last, or put succinctly, the biggest loser of all my friends.

“I’ve got a good feeling about this one,” Dad said later that night when he picked me up in his Prius. “I think you’ll like her.”

“Okay,” I said. I just didn’t feel like telling him that I knew her yet. I didn’t feel much like talking at all. I pretended not to notice that Dad had dressed up in a nice sweater with his khakis instead of his usual sloppy, untucked shirt.

“And, she told me she has a son your age,” he said as we plodded down the road at exactly the speed limit. “The way she talked about him, I’d assumed he was younger. She doesn’t look my age at all.”

How much aftershave had Dad used? “I know him,” I admitted.

“What?” He turned his attention from the road to me.

“I know her son.” He’d find out anyway. “He dated my best friend.”

“Well,” he said, clearly surprised. “It’s a small world.”

Too freakin’ small for my taste.

Dad glanced over at me. “So, he’s a good kid?”

“He’s okay,” I said with a shrug.

“Because we’re going over there for dinner tonight.” He sounded excited about it.

“Great.” The way to my dad’s heart totally was through his pudgy stomach. He was so into gourmet cooking. Jake’s mom was a real estate agent, so their two-story house was really nice. I’d been there lots of times.

The sad thing was that I’d always thought my mom and Jake’s mom would get along. Now, I was heading to her house with my dad. So much for that friendship.

“Are you okay with this?” Dad asked over the tick-tick of the turn signal.

I knew I should hate him, but I just couldn’t. He didn’t mean to ruin my life. I guess he couldn’t help it. Being nice sucked. Anya was always telling me to work on being bitchier. She had a point. She’d always been high maintenance and she got what she wanted.

“It’s fine,” I said, glancing out the window as Dad turned onto a side street.

At least I knew things couldn’t get worse.

I learned how wrong I was ten minutes after getting to Jake’s house. We were in the kitchen, helping with the salad, when he said, “So what do you think about Camille?”

I just looked at him and pretended he hadn’t stabbed me in the heart. Anya was right. He was interested in Camille—another one of my best friends. “She’s great,” I admitted, working to keep my voice neutral.

“I was thinking about asking her to the dance.” He kept slicing the tomatoes. His over-sized hound, Indiana, sat on his haunches begging for scraps.

Of course he was. “Great.” Oops. I might have missed neutral on that one. I concentrated on washing the lettuce.

He stopped and looked at me. “What?”

“What what?” Two could play that game.

“You don’t sound like you like the idea,” he said and put down the knife.

“No. I just...” Why did life have to be so complicated? I turned to meet his gaze. “Do you like her or are you just asking out one of Anya’s friends to get to Anya? I mean Camille has feelings too.”

His eyes widened. “My God, Zoe. Do you really think I’d do that? I’m not mean.”

He and I had spent a lot of time together. With Anya, of course. “I know.” Great. I’d insulted him.

“I haven’t decided about Camille anyway,” he said. “I wanted your opinion.”

“Do you always ask your mother’s boyfriend’s daughters for opinions about your love life?”

He looked hurt. “No,” he said. “I do ask my friends though.”

Okay, now I felt like a real creep. “I’m sorry, Jake. I… This whole thing with our parents is totally stressing me out. And then there’s Anya and Brad, and you and Camille, and I…” I shook my head and turned off the faucet. “I just need a break,” I said, turning to him.

His green eyes softened. “I know what you mean.”

“You do?” Why did he have to be so hot?

“Yeah,” he said with a smile. “I’ve got an idea. Let’s ditch the parents and go to a movie.”

Getting out of here would rock. “We can’t do that, can we?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know why not. They’d probably rather be alone anyway. Plus, they don’t ask our opinions on every move they make.”

True. They made all kinds of plans without asking us. My spirits lifted. “Let’s do it.” I snatched a piece of cheddar and gave it to Indiana.

Chapter Three

Jake was right. Neither of them protested too much. And we got a twenty from each of them. Ten minutes later, Dad dropped us at the theater.

“Text me when you pick the movie, and let me know what time it lets out,” my dad said. “You can ask the usher.”

“I know. I will.”

Dad waved and pulled away from the curve.

“So what movie should we see?” Jake asked as we walked up the steps to the front of the twelve-plex.

“I don’t care,” I said truthfully. “I’ll watch anything. As long as it’s not about divorce. I’m full up on divorce right now.”

Jake grinned. “I know what you mean.”

I vetoed the artsy choice. “Nothing with suicide either.”

“Agreed.” Jake stuck his hands in his jean pockets and studied the marquee. ”How do you feel about action?”

I loved it when he stood that way. So GQ. “Action’s good. But no horror.”

We settled on a Jackie Chan movie. Humor and action were always a winning combination in my book. I got the exact ending time and called Dad.

Since we’d skipped dinner, we got popcorn, candy, and drinks. We passed on the withered hot dogs, but decided to risk some nachos. I didn’t have to pretend I never ate much, because I didn’t have a chance in hell with Jake anyway.

Obviously, I’m always trying to find the up side to everything. The up side to being a witch was that I could help people with my potions. The up side to a movie with Jake, even as a friend, was that I got to go to a movie with Jake. Usually, I sat on the other side of Anya when they let me tag along on their dates. Tonight, it was just the two of us, and while it wasn’t a date, at least I wasn’t the third wheel. The role of pathetic dateless friend had grown old.

We found seats in the auditorium and dropped the armrests to situate our drinks and snacks. Jake slouched down in his seat, adjusting his long legs in the aisle.

His hottiness wasn’t just about looks. He had this energy about him that kind of radiated. Sitting beside him was like being wrapped in his energy field, and it felt really good.