The Glitter Trap Read online

  “All right, let’s work on the mouse dance! Remember, you’re simple peasant mice, so nothing fancy.” The girls start dancing around the stage. The other three girls look like they can barely walk, much less dance, but Paige has real grace. For a moment, that invisible spotlight turns back on.

  “No, no, NO!” Mr. Griffith shouts. The girls freeze and look at him. “Paige, what are you doing! I said simple! Blend in with the other girls!”

  He looks a little closer at her face. “And what are you doing with your makeup? That red eyeliner is all wrong. We’re doing musical theater, not Greek tragedy.”

  I stare at Paige. Her eyes aren’t red from eyeliner, they’re red from crying. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone told me she’s been crying all weekend.

  At home that night, I sit in my bedroom staring at Katarina’s cocoon, thinking.

  If only I hadn’t caught Katarina in my hair…

  If only Julius hadn’t eaten Katarina and hurt her shoulder and mangled her wings…I wouldn’t be facing worldwide animal hatred right now.

  Plus, Sunny would still be my best friend.

  And Paige would have her fairy godmother, and she would be on her way to getting her dream. But all she has right now is me.

  If Katarina would just break out of the cocoon and help me, I wouldn’t care how cranky she is. I would do every single thing she tells me and be happy about it.

  I put my ear next to the cocoon, listening like I did before. And I hear a voice saying, “Lacey, you’re going to have to take that wand and do it all yourself. It’s up to you.”

  And I realize that the voice isn’t coming from inside the cocoon, it’s coming from inside me.

  I don’t want to listen, but I have to.

  As I leave for school in the morning, I have a thought: it’s chilly in my room. What if that’s why Katarina hasn’t broken out yet? So I put the cocoon in my sweater pocket where it’s warm. She can come with me.

  I wait for Paige on the school’s front steps (and pray there won’t be any birds). After what seems like forever, Paige walks up with her cheerleader friends Makayla and Taylor. Have you noticed that popular girls always travel in packs? They’re the wolves of middle school, and the rest of us are just rabbits trying not to get eaten.

  Normally, I would never dream of interrupting Paige when she’s with her pack; it’s just not something a smart rabbit would do. But today I don’t have time to be smart. As the three girls walk by I whisper, “Paige? Can I talk to you?”

  Paige says, “What do you want, Underwear Girl?” And Makayla and Taylor giggle.

  I bet Katarina never has to put up with stuff like this. I plead, “I need to talk to you about something personal.”

  Paige looks at me, on the verge of walking away, so I say, “It’s really important. Please, Paige.”

  Paige tells Makayla and Taylor, “I’ll meet you inside.” Not a suggestion, an order. The girls smirk at me as they go in.

  “What do you want?” Paige asks.

  “I can’t talk about it here. Can we go someplace?”

  “No. Tell me what you want, or I’m leaving.”

  I’m so nervous that words just spew out of my mouth: “Remember that night I came to your house with takeout? Well, there was a moth next to your porch light. Only it wasn’t a moth. It was your fairy godmother! But she got caught in my gluey hair. Remember, from the poster? You really should use less glitter glue. It’s very dangerous. Anyhow, I got her home and cleaned her up, and Julius ate her. But don’t worry, he spit her out again. But then her wand arm didn’t work. And her wings needed to heal, too. So she cocooned! And…ta-da! Now I’m your fairy godmother.”

  Paige looks at me, completely speechless.

  “I’ve got things entirely under control. I know you want the lead in the play. So, let’s make that happen!”

  Paige steps back as if she’s in danger of catching mental cooties from me.

  “I can prove it. Look! I have a wand!” I reach into my pocket and pull out the wand. It looks like I’m holding a toothpick, but it’s the best I can do.

  This is the moment where Paige should say, “Awesome! What’s next?” But she just looks confused. What can I do to convince her?

  I know! I dig deeper into my pocket and pull out Katarina’s cocoon. “Look! Here she is! If you put it up to your ear you can hear her snoring!” I hold it out to Paige…

  …who pulls away like I’m trying to hand her dog poop. She says, “One more word from you, and I’m telling Principal Nazarino!”

  I think about saying, Wait! Wait! You’ve got to listen to me! But then I realize those are words, so I keep quiet.

  Paige scurries up the steps and disappears inside.

  That could have gone better.

  When I sit down next to Sunny in homeroom, she’s still wearing a hat and an angry expression. Usually Sunny would have forgiven me by now, but I guess you shouldn’t mess with a girl’s hair.

  Gaby Thompson, who is the school’s biggest gossip, leans toward me and whispers, “Is it true?”

  “Is what true?”

  “That you pulled a knife on Paige Harrington outside school.”

  “It wasn’t a knife! It was—” I stop myself; it’s not like I can tell people it was a wand.

  Rick Malcolm chimes in, “Blaine Anders told me that you’re going to get kicked out of school!”

  This is too much for Sunny, butchered bangs and all. She says, “Blaine Anders also said that the water in the drinking fountain comes straight from the toilet. He lies about everything.”

  Rick says, “But he’s not lying about Lacey getting kicked out of school.”

  No one would be stupid enough to believe that I had a knife, right?

  Then Principal Nazarino strides into the room. She hasn’t come into homeroom since…since never.

  I think, Please don’t let this be about me.

  Principal Nazarino stands in front of the class. “Lacey Unger-Ware! Come here, please.”

  My heart starts pounding three hundred beats a minute. Walking up to the principal on shaky legs, I expect her to whip out handcuffs. So when Principal Nazarino puts her arm around me, I can’t help flinching.

  To my surprise, she grins and tells the class, “We here at Lincoln Middle School should all be very proud of Lacey! I’ve just found out she’s one of the five finalists for the Highland Park Zoo intern contest.”

  I give her a surprised Scooby-Doo look. I might as well have said, Hrwha?

  Principal Nazarino says, “Lincoln hasn’t had a finalist in over ten years. Now we’re finally going to kick Harry S. Truman Middle School’s butt!”

  Wow. She’s taking this zoo intern thing very personally.

  She says, “The interview is tomorrow. So Lacey, get a lot of sleep tonight and make us even prouder! You’re a role model for us all!”

  Sunny applauds, and for a long, long moment, she’s the only one. But then Gaby Thompson joins in. A second or two later, the whole room is applauding and stomping.

  I know this is less about me than it is about the fun of making a lot of noise during school hours—and in front of the principal. But still, I’ve gone from juvenile delinquent to role model in less than sixty seconds. That’s got to be some kind of record. For a little while, I just listen to the applause and enjoy it.

  Then a picture creeps into my brain, only it’s more like a movie. I see me at the zoo, very snazzily dressed in a zoo intern vest. I’m leading a group of kindergartners through the bear habitat. The little kids all stare at me adoringly as I stop in front of the polar bear cage and start telling them everything I know about bears, which is a lot. A moment later, CRASH! ROAR! The polar bear bursts through the bars and bites my head off. You can imagine what that looks like. I would describe it to you, but you’d totally barf. Trust me. It’s gross.

  This very educational movie is reminding me that I can’t be a zoo intern if every animal in the world hates me. I can’t even go to the zoo. I l
ook up at Principal Nazarino and say, “I can’t do the interview tomorrow.”

  The applause stops. Principal Nazarino frowns at me. “Of course you can.”

  “Next week would be much better for me.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You must do the interview tomorrow. Don’t you want to kick Harry S. Truman Middle School’s butt?”

  Sure I do. But I also don’t want the polar bear to bite my head off.

  I’ve got to fix Paige’s voice soon. Maybe if I can get Paige partway to her dream, the animals will only hate me…

  …partway.

  In English class, while all the other kids read To Kill a Mockingbird, I work on a spell to change Paige’s voice. I want her to sing better than Ann Estey. But nothing rhymes with Estey. “Testy,” maybe. But that’s not helping me any.

  Ann sings like an angel, and that’s what I want for Paige. A beautiful, angelic singing voice. But what rhymes with angel?

  I write in my notebook: Angelic you sing, with plenty of zing.

  Ugh.

  I try, Best voice in school, makes every kid drool.

  It could work—and then I imagine hundreds of kids magically drooling. That’s disgusting.

  I keep thinking. Finally, I write, For a change you’ll sing like an angel.

  Hmm…that’s not terrible; in fact, that’s pretty good.

  Magic time!

  For the rest of the day, I try to sneak up on Paige and toss the spell at her. I pass her in the hall right before lunch, but there are too many other kids in the way.

  Then, between fifth and sixth periods, I see her leaning down over the drinking fountain. Feeling like a lion stalking a gazelle at a watering hole, I slowly creep toward Paige.

  When I’m two steps away, I raise my wand. “For a change you’ll—”

  Ooofff! Somebody bumps into me, and I drop the wand. Paige gets away. Darn it!

  As I squat on the floor of the busy hallway and feel around for the wand, someone crouches down by me and says, “What are we looking for?”

  I turn, and Scott Dearden’s beautiful eyes are a foot away from mine. I stop breathing. Oh my God—he’s talking to me! That means I need to say something back. What should I say? What should I say? “You have the longest eyelashes!” comes out of my mouth.

  Oh.

  No.

  Let me die now.

  But he just smiles. “Yeah. I’m a freak.”

  “You’re not a freak!” I steady myself with my hand, and something sharp pokes into my thumb. “OW!” It’s the wand.

  “You all right?” Scott asks.

  “Found it! My earring, I mean!”

  We both stand up again. Scott says, “See you around,” and vanishes into the crowd. Scott Dearden just talked to me, and he must think I’m an idiot.

  I catch up to Paige at play rehearsal after school and watch from behind a painted fireplace as she practices her mouse dance with the other girls. With Mr. Griffith’s coaching, she’s now just as bad as the rest of them. Clomp! Clomp! Clomp! Squeak! Squeak! Squeak! Somebody needs to call an exterminator and put them out of their misery.

  Mr. Griffith nods approvingly. “Very good, girls! The dance is getting just that quality of postmodern ennui I’m looking for.”

  If ennui means “really sucky,” he’s absolutely right.

  My chance finally comes when the girls clomp offstage. I’ve got a clear shot at Paige! I raise the wand and quietly chant, “For a change you’ll sing like an angel.”

  Just as Katarina taught me, I toss the spell right at her.

  Nothing happens. Nothing. As a fairy godmother, I’m full of ennui.

  Mr. Griffith calls, “Paige, I’ve been thinking. Can you add one more squeak after the third turn?”

  Paige opens her mouth; instead of answering his question, she sings, “GLO! OH-OH-OH! OH-OH-OH! RIA!”

  OMG! It worked! My spell worked! It’s the most beautiful singing I’ve ever heard! She sounds like an angel!

  Paige clutches her throat, totally confused about what’s happening.

  Mr. Griffith leaps onto the stage and rushes up to her. “Do that again.”

  She hesitates.

  “I said, do it again!”

  She opens her mouth, and the same angelic sounds come out. “GLO! OH-OH-OH! OH-OH-OH! RIA!”

  I am so good!

  As Mr. Griffith paces around Paige, you can almost see the wheels turning in his head. Is he tempted to give Paige the part instead of Ann? He says, “Paige, sing ‘I’ve Lost My Shoe and You.’” He’s tempted, all right.

  Paige sings, “GLO! OH-OH-OH! OH-OH-OH! RIA!”

  “Enough of that. Sing ‘I’ve Lost My Shoe.’”

  Paige’s mouth opens and forms an I shape. She struggles a little, and then the same thing as before comes out: “GLO! OH-OH-OH! OH-OH-OH! RIA!”

  Uh-oh. On the plus side, my spell worked. On the minus side, angels seem to sing only one thing.

  Mr. Griffith’s face turns red. “Sing ‘I’ve Lost My Shoe.’”

  Paige, looking panicky, uses her hands to force her mouth into the I shape. There’s a long, long pause, and then she sings, “GLO! OH-OH-OH! OH-OH-OH! RIA!”

  Mr. Griffith’s face is really red now. “Is this a joke? Paige, what are you doing?”

  She points at her throat and shakes her head.

  “Are you mocking me?”

  Paige makes one last, desperate attempt to sing something, say something different. But all that comes out is “GLO! OH-OH-OH! OH-OH-OH! RIA!” She bursts into tears and runs out of the auditorium. Who does she remind me of?

  Oh, right. Cinderella running out of the ball. All she needs is a missing shoe.

  I rush through the halls searching for Paige. I even check the second-floor janitor’s bathroom. Empty.

  There’s a big window at the top of the stairs, and I look through it out at the school grounds. At first, all I see is Makayla and Taylor practicing cheers at the edge of the football field. Then I see Paige running up to them waving her arms like a crazy person. I need to get down to the field fast.

  The second I’m outside, I hear Paige’s angelic voice floating toward me: “GLO! OH-OH-OH! OH-OH-OH! RIA!”

  I run to the edge of the field, where Paige is pointing toward her throat. Her friends are totally confused by what’s going on.

  Makayla says, “Maybe she’s playing charades.”

  Taylor asks, “Paige? Are you playing charades?”

  Paige shakes her head no. She’s starting to panic.

  Makayla turns to Taylor. “Maybe she’s got a brain tumor. I saw this HBO movie where this girl stopped talking and started barking. By the end, her boyfriend had to howl like a dog to tell her he loved her. And then she died.”

  Taylor looks horrified, but I can tell she also loves this idea. She says, “Paige? Bark twice if you have a brain tumor.”

  Paige sings, “GLO! OH-OH-OH! OH-OH-OH! RIA!”

  The girls look even more confused. Finally, Makayla pulls out her cell phone. “There’s only one thing we can do—put this on YouTube!”

  That’s so evil! It would be like me putting a picture of Sunny’s bangs online. I can’t let Makayla do this—a fairy godmother would never allow YouTube humiliation.

  So I walk up to Paige and grab her sleeve. “Paige? Your father is waiting for you out front.”

  Paige looks at me with relief.

  Makayla’s cell phone is raised and ready. “Come on, Paige! Sing your crazy song!” Instead, Paige runs off the field.

  I catch up with Paige at the curb where parents wait in their cars to pick up their kids. She’s looking up and down the street, hoping to see her father.

  I say, “He’s not here. I made that up to get you away from your friends.”

  She stares at me, her eyes full of questions. I tell her, “I’m so sorry about the singing thing. Being a fairy godmother is really hard.”

  This is not the answer Paige wants to hear.

  “But at least I di
dn’t blow your head up like a pea, or make you drool or something!” I tell her. “Angel singing’s not so bad. And at midnight, you’ll be normal again.”

  Paige pulls out her cell phone, types in a message, and holds it up for me to see. It says, U R crazy. Get away from me!

  “I’m not crazy. It’s magic! You have to believe me. And we don’t have a lot of time. We really only have from now till Saturday!”

  Paige just stomps away.

  This would be a lot easier if I were three inches tall, with butterfly wings. When a person like that talks about magic, you go, Wow! But when I, Lacey Unger-Ware, talk about magic, you go, U R crazy!

  You’d think that singing like an angel would convince anybody. But not Paige.

  “Paige, stop! I’ll prove it!”

  She doesn’t stop. It looks like she’s going to stomp all the way home.

  Then I see a garbage can, and I know what to do. Not with the garbage can, with the apple core that’s sitting on top of it. I grab the core by the stem and say, “Watch this!”

  If I’m very, very lucky, I can turn it into some kind of vehicle. I just hope it’s not a skateboard with legs. I raise the wand and chant, “Door to door by apple core!”

  I toss the spell, and the surface of the apple core glows like a hundred tubes of glitter. Paige’s eyes open wide—Katarina’s not the only one who can’t resist things that sparkle.

  The apple rises into the air and hovers for a moment or two. This is sooo cool! Then it smashes into the sidewalk, exploding in a shower of sparks.

  When the sparks finally clear, we see a shiny new moped, complete with apple-red paint. I’ve done it! Fruit into vehicle, no problem.

  Feeling pretty proud of myself, I tell her, “Hop on! I’ll take you home.”

  Paige stares at the moped like she’s dreaming. She closes her eyes and then opens them slowly, as if she expects it not to be there. I just give her a friendly wave. “Get on!” I pat the seat. “There’s plenty of room.”

  The motor suddenly ROARS to life, way louder than I expected. It sounds like a jet engine.

  Paige runs away with her hands clutching her ears.