Read It and Weep! (7 page)

Charlotte called Lauren. She answered right away.

“What's up, Char? Found a fruit fly in your backpack and calling to complain? You'll have to wait your turn.”

“No, I . . .” Charlotte hesitated.

“What's the matter? You okay?”

“I'm fine. Did you just send me a text by any chance?”

“Me? No. Why?”

“I just got a weird text. From a weird number. It was about the card. I just wondered.”

“Are you still freaking out about the dumb card, Charlotte? I never had you pegged as a superstitious type. Why don't you just toss it if it's freaking you out so much?”

“I don't think I should,” said Charlotte. “I mean, I can't really explain why. I know it's silly of me. Is it silly?”

“Yeah,” Lauren replied bluntly. “The card was probably inside that old book for ages. Whoever wrote that message on the back of it is probably an old person. They might even be dead by now.”

Charlotte drew in her breath in alarm.

“Okay, wrong thing to say. My point is, there's no way the person who wrote that on the card could also be texting you. Someone you know must be messing around with you.”

“I guess you're right,” said Charlotte uncertainly.

“Listen, if it will make you feel better, you can give the card to me, okay? Then
I
will throw it away and accept the consequences. I'm the daughter of a scientist, so it's in my DNA—I don't have a superstitious cell in my body. Since I don't believe in this stuff, it will have no effect on me. Sound good?”

Relief washed over Charlotte. “Okay, thanks. If you are sure you don't mind.”

“I definitely don't mind,” said Lauren. “Now I have to get going. My dad is trying to reheat something in the microwave, and I have to make sure he doesn't blow up the kitchen.”

Charlotte tossed and turned much of that night. Who was it that had sent that text? Who else knew about it? Could Stacy have somehow sent it? Charlotte was thinking back to the events of the previous day when suddenly she jolted upright.

Stacy had been in possession of the card yesterday. Lauren had told her about Stacy borrowing her science notebook. Charlotte flashed back to when Lauren had found the card she'd thought she'd lost. It had been inside her science notebook. The one Stacy had borrowed.

She remembered how Stacy had showed up late for gym. How she had missed so many free throws. How she'd had an allergic reaction to something at lunchtime. Was all that bad luck because she'd had the card with her?

I really am acting silly,
she thought. This is anxiety stuff. Charlotte often got this way. She was a middle-of-the-night worrier. Almost always, when she'd fretted about something, she would wake up in the morning and realize how silly she'd been. But right now, Charlotte couldn't ignore the ominous thoughts. The card was a jinx. The person who wrote the message on the back cursed it so it brought bad luck to whoever had it. Should she really pass the card to Lauren, now that she was growing increasingly certain that it brought bad luck? What had Lauren's aunt said? Maybe the Wheel of Fortune card just changed a person's luck. Maybe if that person were having bad luck, and came into possession of the card, the person's luck might change to good luck.

Maybe she was simply rationalizing the problem away. After all, most Wheel of Fortune cards probably didn't have some crazy message scrawled on them by who knows who.

The next morning, when she woke up, Charlotte felt much less anxious about the card. She was certain she was just being silly. If Lauren didn't care, neither did she.

Her mother was sitting glassy eyed at the kitchen table when Charlotte emerged for breakfast. Her eyes were puffy, as though she'd been crying.

“What's wrong, Mom?” Charlotte asked quickly, barely daring to breathe. “Is Daddy okay? Did you hear something?”

Charlotte's mom closed her eyes and drew a long breath in. Then she let it out quickly. “He's fine, honey. I heard from him late last night, after you were asleep. He's fine, but he's not coming home as early as we thought. It looks like it might be another—” She swallowed, gathered herself. “Another two months.”

Charlotte sat down heavily in a chair, absorbing the horror of this news. Then her mind turned to the card. Maybe all that middle-of-the-night anxiety hadn't been so silly. Maybe the card really was doing this. It had to be. It brought bad luck to whoever had it.

Well, Lauren
had
agreed to take it,
she thought. Time to pass it along . . . for good.

Chapter 9

That day at lunch, Charlotte slid the card across the table to Lauren. There hadn't been any time in homeroom, and they didn't want Stacy anywhere near them when they did the exchange.

“What's that?” asked Gwen, who was sitting next to Lauren.

“Nothing,” both girls replied at almost exactly the same time.

Gwen glanced at the card, shrugged, and went back to chatting with Cassie on her other side.

“Are you sure about this?” Charlotte spoke to Lauren in a low voice, just loud enough for Lauren to be able to hear over the din in the cafeteria. “I don't want anything bad to happen to you.”

“Stop being a dork,” scoffed Lauren, picking up the card and shoving it into her backpack. “The card is nothing. Okay?” Lauren reached across the table and broke off a piece of Charlotte's cookie. “Anyway, if you really—” She coughed. Then she coughed again. Her face turned pink.

“Laur? You okay?” asked Charlotte, springing out of her chair.

Lauren was now coughing harder. Gwen wheeled around and banged Lauren on the back. Lauren grabbed her milk and took a big sip.

“I'm fine!” she sputtered. “You can stop whacking me now!”

“Sure you're okay?” asked Gwen worriedly.

“I'm fine. Really. Everyone turn around and go back to what you were doing,” said Lauren through gritted teeth. “I'm already trying to live down the fruit fly thing. I don't need the whole school watching you perform the Heimlich maneuver on me.”

Gwen laughed and turned back to Cassie.

Charlotte sat back down, still regarding her friend warily.

“I'm okay, really,” said Lauren, slightly irritably. “I just breathed in a piece of cookie is all.”

At play rehearsal that afternoon Lauren delivered the wrong line at the wrong place, causing them to have to skip a whole scene.

“Lauren,” said Mr. Thompson, the director. “Please don't do that again. All right, start from the top of scene three, everyone.” He massaged his temples as though his head was throbbing.

After rehearsal, as Lauren was hurrying to catch the late bus, she got her necklace hooked to her locker, and when she closed the door, it exploded into an avalanche of bouncing beads. By the time she'd collected most of them, she'd missed the bus home from school.

She texted her father at work.

Missed the bus. Walking home. Everything fine. I'll walk Teddy. See you at dinner?

There was no immediate answer from her dad, so she started walking home. It was a beautiful September afternoon, and the warm, late-summer sun cast a golden light on the trees and the sidewalk.
Really,
she thought,
I ought to walk home more often. Except that poor Teddy will be anxiously waiting for me when I get home.

A minute or so later her phone buzzed. She flicked it on, assuming it was her dad. But it was from an unknown number—a number with thirteen digits.

You should not have taken the card. Fear for yourself. And for your dog.

She stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk, staring at the text. An elderly lady pushing a shopping cart rammed into her from behind.

“Watch what you're doing, young lady!” she barked at Lauren, muttering about newfangled gizmos as she continued on her way.

“Sorry!” Lauren said absently. She looked again at the text. It couldn't possibly be from Charlotte. But who else knew about the card? Hadn't Charlotte mentioned that she, Charlotte, had gotten a weird text? This was a little odd, she was forced to admit. Could it be Stacy? Stacy didn't even have Lauren's phone number. Still, she could have easily gotten it from someone.

Threatening her was bad enough. But threatening her dog?

A feeling of dread passed over her. It was too much of a coincidence that she'd just texted her dad about Teddy and that someone had then threatened to hurt him. Was someone somehow hacking into her phone? What an awful thought. It was probably just some annoying kid being a jerk, but still.

Teddy.

She broke into a run. By the time she got home, she was completely out of breath and half-hysterical with worry.

“Teddy? Teddy!” she bellowed, throwing open the side door and practically falling inside.

For a second all was quiet. And then she heard a thump above her and the jingle of a collar. Teddy came padding down the steps, tail wagging, tongue out.

“Hey, buddy,” she said, stooping down and letting him nuzzle her all over her face, her head, her neck. She threw her arms around his neck. “You're okay, aren't you, boy? Of course you are.” She stood up and grabbed his leash off the hook. “Come on. We'll go for a walk.”

As they headed out the door, Lauren paused a minute. She stepped back inside and fished through her backpack until she found the card.

“I still don't believe it,” she said out loud. Teddy looked up at her and cocked his head to one side, as though trying to understand her. “But why take unnecessary risks? Let's get rid of this.” As they headed down the path, she tossed the card into the outside garbage can.

Later, as Lauren was putting a pot of water on the stove for pasta, she got a call from Charlotte.

“Is everything okay?” asked Charlotte anxiously.

“Of course,” said Lauren, putting a lid on the pot and turning on the gas. “Why wouldn't it be?”

“Um, no reason,” said Charlotte.

“Are you still worried about that dumb card?” asked Lauren.

“Okay, yeah, a little.”

“Well, no need to worry,” said Lauren. “I chucked it.”

Charlotte was quiet for a moment. “Okay. I guess. I hope that's the end of it.”

Lauren heard her dad's key in the lock. “Dad's home. Gotta go,” she said, and they hung up.

“Hey, Laur!” said her dad, plunking down his heavy shoulder bag and stepping over to give Lauren a big hug. He had dark circles under his eyes, as though he hadn't slept well in days. “What's for dinner? I'm starved. I think I forgot to eat lunch today.”

Lauren smiled and rolled her eyes. “It's a good thing you have me around to remind you to eat and sleep. It's spaghetti from a box and sauce from a jar. My specialty.”

“School go okay today?” he said, moving over to the stove and opening the lid on the spaghetti sauce.

“Yeah, it was good. I kind of whiffed in rehearsal, though. Skipped a whole scene.”

“That's nice, honey,” said her dad, who obviously hadn't heard a word she said. Lauren shook her head. She was used to her dad's forgetfulness. He was always thinking about his work, or his classes, or—