The Quirks, Welcome to Normal (11 page)

“I’m on a bath strike,” Finn whispered back. “Only Molly could see me, so why wash?”

Molly was nervous to move or speak or do anything at all, for fear that Finn would somehow disappear again.
What made him show up?
she wondered. Had Penelope’s magic come to the
rescue and made him appear just in time for the car to stop? Or had Finn figured out how to control his own Quirk?

“Have a good weekend, Charlie,” the woman—Maggie—said, waving at Mr. Intihar and their son. “I’ll see you on Sunday.” Then she drove off and the Quirks
were left in the parking lot with Mr. Intihar and Charlie.

“Well, hello there,” Mr. Intihar said, suddenly noticing Finn. The girls’ teacher had his arm wrapped around his son protectively. “Where did you come from, kiddo? Who do
you belong to? We should find your adult.”

Bree looked panic stricken for a moment, then smiled shakily. “What on earth do you mean?” she asked with a laugh. “It’s Finn, of course. You know Finn.” She stared
at Mr. Intihar with great focus, trying to convince him that he’d met Finn a million times before.

“Finn . . . ,” Mr. Intihar said, pulling his eyebrows together. “Um . . .”

“My son,” Bree said, shooting Finn a smile. “Finnegan. Five, going on six? Surely you haven’t forgotten about the one Quirk child who isn’t in your class?”
She laughed again nervously, and Molly looked from their teacher to her mother and back again. Bree’s smile was wiggling and wobbling, and she stared at Mr. Intihar hard. One piece of her
hair was sticking straight out from the side of her head, like a broken bird’s wing. “You remember, don’t you? Why, earlier tonight we talked about how much fun it would be to get
Finn and Charlie together sometime, when Charlie’s visiting you for the weekend.”

Molly bit her lower lip. She knew that her mother didn’t like to lie, and she felt horrible when using her powers meant stretching the truth, even a bit.

Mr. Intihar nodded, his lips splitting into a giant slice-of-watermelon-shaped grin. “I don’t know what I was thinking,” he said, scratching his head. “Of course I know
Finn.”

“Of course you know Finn,” Bree agreed, nodding, her hair all askew. “He’s in the kindergarten class here in Normal.”

“Yes.” Mr. Intihar nodded. “He’s in the kindergarten class! Of course! Charlie, meet Finn. Finn . . . my son, Charlie.” Mr. Intihar still looked a little uncertain,
but smiled at Finn anyway.

Charlie and Finn eyed each other. Finnegan Quirk had never had a real friend. He wasn’t sure
how
to act with kids outside his family. In all his life, the most Finn had ever been
was an imaginary friend. And you’d be surprised at how much an imaginary friend can boss people around!

“Hello, dude,” Charlie said, after his father prodded him.

Finn half hid behind his mother but shyly whispered, “Hello.”

“Well,” Mr. Intihar said, shuffling his feet in the tiny rocks that covered the paved surface of the parking lot. His foot connected with a gumball. “Thanks again for a lovely
evening. I guess we should be on our way. I’ll see you girls at school next week. And, uh . . .” He paused, shaking his head as though he couldn’t quite believe what he was
saying. “And you, too, ah, Finn.”

“That you will,” Bree said, smiling weakly again. “Finn will be at school on Monday, with my girls.” She swallowed, and only Molly could see just how shaken she really
was.

As soon as Mr. Intihar and Charlie walked away, the other Quirks turned to study Finn.

“Look at this handsome fellow,” Grandpa Quill said, reaching out to ruffle Finn’s hair.

“Did you do this, Penelope?” Bree Quirk asked. “Did you make him appear, you clever girl?”

Pen shrugged. “I don’t think so,” she admitted. “But maybe?”

Finn wiggled out from under Penelope’s arm and grinned. “Don’t give Pen all the credit!” he cried, dancing around happily. “Because guess what I found out, Mom? Gum
really
is
good for me!” He pulled the wad of gum he’d been chewing out of his mouth. As he did, his body faded until he was invisible once again.

The others stared, seeing nothing but a blank space where Finn had been standing. But Molly watched as her brother shot a fresh gumball into his mouth. The rest of the Quirk family
ooh
-ed and
aah
-ed as Finn came back into focus again.

“See?” he cried. “It’s like magic! I figured out how to control my Quirk! Now you see me . . .” Finn popped the gum out of his mouth again and faded into thin air.
“Now you don’t!” He giggled and Molly watched him wiggle and dance in place. “Oh, this is going to be so much fun.”

“
M
o
l
l
y
?
”
Penelope Quirk whispered her
sister’s name late the next night, hours after the girls had gone to bed. “Are you awake?”

She was now. “What’s wrong?” Molly asked, sensing her sister’s sadness from up high on her own top bunk. She heard Niblet startle under the bed, the sound of his
still-nubby fur rubbing against the floorboards as he tried to burrow in for more sleep.

“I’m nervous,” Pen whispered.

“About what?” Molly asked. She knew what, but she wasn’t going to be the one to say it. Molly rolled in her bed, and Penelope could hear the springs squeaking above her head as
her sister got comfortable.

“Do you really think Finn is going to start coming to school?”

“Yes,” Molly said. “Mom’s right. Now that we know how to make him visible, there’s no reason for him to stay home. As long as he’s chewing gum, he’ll
fit in just fine.”

“Yeah,” Penelope agreed quietly. “I guess that’s fair.”

A long moment passed before either girl spoke again. “What else is wrong, Pen?” Molly prompted, yawning. She was wide awake, but because it was the middle of the night, her eyes felt
sandy and warm—almost like someone had poured the stuff inside an Etch A Sketch under her eyelids and dropped the skin back into place. She’d never tell her sister that, since she knew
what could happen. Molly didn’t want to risk Etch A Sketch eyes.

Molly rolled again, and Penelope could tell that her sister was right above her “I don’t know if I should go to Stella’s party,” Pen said quietly.

“Of course you should,” Molly said. “We were invited, and it would be strange if we didn’t go.”

“I’m not saying that
you
shouldn’t go,” Penelope said. “Just that I shouldn’t go.”

“I don’t want to go without you,” Molly insisted. “Stella is friends with both of us.”

“I know.” Penelope sighed. “It’s just . . .” She paused.

Molly waited, but Pen didn’t say anything more. Finally, Molly murmured, “You’re going to be fine at Stella’s sleepover. Just pretend your sleeping bag is a cone of
safety—like the comfort tacos that Mom makes for us on the couch. If you start to feel overwhelmed, maybe you can slip into your cone and relax.” Molly’s arm waved around in the
air above the top bunk, drawing an invisible cone on the ceiling.

Pen crinkled up her nose and giggled. “Cone of safety?”

Both girls started laughing harder, but stopped when they heard Niblet groan and roll under Pen’s bed. Their monster got very cranky if he was short on sleep. “I heard Mom say that
to Gran about the backyard once. You know what I mean—just that, maybe, your sleeping bag could be a sort of safe place when we’re at Stella’s.” Molly pulled her covers up
to her chin. “Things have been so much better lately at school, so whatever it is you’ve been doing to distract yourself and get by . . . well, just keep doing it. Don’t let a
sleepover at a friend’s house get you all nervous. Stella’s birthday party is just the sort of thing we’ve always wanted to be invited to.”

“I have a secret,” Penelope said after a moment, closing her eyes tight. “I stole Mom’s iPod for school.”

“What?” Molly leaned over the edge of her bunk and peered at her sister. “She’s been looking for that everywhere!”

“I know.” Pen groaned. “The music helps me relax. It seems like every time I listen to the stuff going on around me, my mind wanders. So I’ve been spending most of the
day at school secretly listening to music and humming to myself to keep from screwing up. It’s better than Nolan teasing me all the time for closing my eyes, but I’m weeks behind in
math because of it.”

“Are you serious?” Molly felt her chest tighten the way it did when she worried about her sister. “Why didn’t you tell me, Pen?” When her sister said nothing, Molly
added, “You know I’m good at math—I can help you get caught up.”

“I’m not
your
problem,” Penelope grumbled. “I keep the earbuds hidden under my hair. Mr. Intihar hasn’t noticed.”

“Oh, Pen,” Molly whispered. “That’s a terrible idea.” She stretched her leg over the top bunk, gently finding a foothold on the ladder that would lead her down to
her sister’s bunk. When she’d settled in next to Pen, she quietly said, “You might as well just skip school if you’re not going to listen. It’s like you’re not
even there.” As Molly said it, she realized she shouldn’t have.

“I’ve been thinking the same thing,” Penelope exclaimed. Her words tumbled out quickly, spilling as though they’d been dammed up for days. “The thing is, I’m
never going to fit in at school anyway. I might as well just stay out of the way and let you enjoy yourself. We can hang out on the weekends and after school and stuff. They’re going to
figure out that I haven’t learned anything yet this year when Mr. Intihar does conferences.” She heaved a sigh.