Charmed Forces #19 Page 14

  “We missed the best day of camp ever for nothing!” Chelsea shouted. She crumpled the newspaper into a ball and heaved it at Alyssa. Everyone else in the bunk threw paper at her, too. A hail of paper missiles rained on her head. Ten pairs of eyes glared at her. Alyssa’s bunkmates were mad.

  “There was no terrible accident,” Priya said. “How do you explain this?”

  “You don’t understand,” Alyssa said. “We changed the cosmic balance by not going to the game. If we had gone, Chelsea would have been hit. But since we didn’t go, fate made a U-turn and the accident didn’t happen.”

  “Besides,” Sloan said. “How could Chelsea get hit with a baseball if she wasn’t at the game?”

  Alyssa was grateful to have at least one ally. The rest of her bunkmates had been giving her the cold shoulder since everyone else got back from the game.

  “I guess you have a point,” Natalie said.

  “A stupid point,” Chelsea said. “We were crazy to fall for any of this mumbo jumbo. How could I get hit by a baseball? It’s just not me.”

  “I think Alyssa makes sense,” Sloan said. “You can’t deny she has had an amazing record for accurate predictions all month. I’m not going to go against her now. Who knows, maybe we did avert some terrible tragedy.”

  “Puh-lease,” Jenna said.

  “Oh, girls,” Mandy said. “I’m sorry we missed the game—believe me. I’m not a huge Justin Timberlake fan—” Her eyes drifted toward the poster over Chelsea’s bed “—but anything’s better than weeding. Still, what’s done is done. Can’t we put all this silliness behind us now?”

  “It’s not silly,” Natalie said. “What about Donovan asking Candace to the dance? That was incredible. Nobody would have predicted that—but Alyssa did.”

  “Yeah,” Sloan said. “And what about all the smaller stuff, the pasta salad at the cookout, the canceled swim relay, the pancakes for breakfast—”

  “Alyssa could have smelled the pancakes before we left for the mess hall,” Priya said. “You couldn’t miss the smell on the path. Maybe she wasn’t aware she was smelling it, but it could have tipped her off.”

  “And having pasta salad at the cookout isn’t such a stretch,” Mandy said.

  “And Donovan asking Candace to the dance kind of makes sense,” Jenna said. “They’re both really into sailing.”

  “But he flirted with every girl in camp except Candace,” Brynn said.

  “I have to admit, even I was shocked that he asked me,” Candace said.

  “Any decision on that yet, Candace?” Gaby asked.

  “No, not yet,” Candace said.

  “Don’t push her, Gaby,” Brynn said.

  “What about Tumtum?” Natalie said. “Alyssa interpreted my dream right even though she didn’t know Tumtum had a tumor—and she correctly predicted he’d be okay.”

  “She had a fifty-fifty chance of getting that right,” Chelsea said.

  “And she never actually said your dog had a tumor,” Mandy reminded them. “She said you were worried about someone at home. That could apply to almost anyone at some point.”

  “But she got it right at the right time,” Sloan said. “That’s the key.”

  The argument went on, getting more heated by the moment. By the end about half the bunk—Sloan, Gaby, Natalie, Valerie, and Brynn—still believed in Alyssa and Amy. But the rest of them had soured on the whole psychic/amethyst thing.

  “We’re skipping over one very important question,” Mandy said. “Alyssa—have you returned the amethyst to its rightful owner yet?”

  Gulp. “Not yet,” Alyssa admitted. “Everyone was away at the game yesterday, and then there’s been so much excitement about it—”

  “No more excuses,” Mandy said. “The amethyst is not yours and you have to give it back.”

  “But—but—it’s a crime to give Amy away.” Alyssa held the amethyst in her palm. She felt so connected to it. “Who else would know how to use her? Who else has the intuitive power? No one.”

  “I have to agree with Alyssa,” Sloan said. “She and Amy were meant to be together.”

  “Alyssa, I know it’s hard, but it’s the right thing and you have no choice,” Mandy said. “Find out who the owner is and give the rock back.”

  “Okay,” Alyssa said. She muffled her face in her pillow. She was going to miss Amy so much.

  chapter FIFTEEN

  “I was thinking,” Valerie said to Candace when they were out on the lake practicing sailing maneuvers in a good stiff breeze. “About Donovan.”

  “About Donovan? That’s funny,” Candace said. “I’ve been thinking about Donovan, too.” She still hadn’t given him her answer about the Midsummer Dance. She just couldn’t decide what to do. On the one hand, he was for sure one of the cutest boys in camp, and she was flattered—beyond flattered—that he’d asked her to the dance. All those girls who liked him, and he’d chosen her—that went to her head like soda bubbles. He loved sailing, like she did, and she thought he was a nice guy.

  But Candace took her promises seriously—even her promises to herself. She had really looked forward to a summer without the distraction of boys—and Donovan was very distracting. And she had a feeling that some other girl, like Gaby, maybe, would have more fun at the dance with him than she would.

  “What were you thinking?” Valerie asked.

  “What was I thinking? What were you thinking? You go first,” Candace said.

  Valerie neatly cleated the jib line and perched on the starboard side. She was getting to be a pretty good sailor.

  “I was thinking that I’m not sure what’s holding you back,” Valerie said. “From going to the dance with Donovan, I mean. But if it has anything to do with me, don’t worry about it. I know you’re loyal to your girlfriends, and that’s nice. But I’m over Donovan—I never had a serious crush on him in the first place. He’s cute and everything, but I’m pulling myself out of the running. Too much competition. And besides, I’ve got my eye on Zach.”

  “Zach? Which one is he?”

  “You haven’t noticed him? He’s that tall drink of water on number fourteen over there.” She nodded at a lanky redheaded boy expertly maneuvering a Sunfish toward the dock.

  “Number fourteen . . .” Candace had seen Zach before, of course, but she’d never noticed him in particular. “Now that you mention it, he is stunning.”

  “Isn’t he?” Valerie said. “If I could just get him to figure out that I’m alive.”

  “Oh, I think he knows you’re alive.” Zach tied up his boat and waved at the girls. Valerie waved back. “When we get in, all you have to do is talk to him.”

  “Right. That’s all. Talk to him,” Valerie said. “You make it sound so easy, as if you’re queen of the flirts. Although you did nab Donovan through some kind of magic alchemy . . .”

  “Magic alchemy . . . I’m not sure I believe in Alyssa and Amy and all that,” Candace said. “But she has made some pretty incredible predictions.”

  “It’s a little scary,” Valerie said. “That’s why I wanted to make sure you knew that if you don’t want to go against the Voice of Amy, if you want to say yes to Donovan, you have my blessing. I’m behind you all the way, and I won’t even be jealous.”

  “You won’t be jealous? Thanks, Val.” Valerie was a great friend, and her gesture was very sweet. But it still didn’t solve Candace’s problem.

  “So have you decided yet?” Valerie asked.

  “No,” Candace said. “Everyone in the bunk has been bugging me all week.”

  “We’re just curious,” Valerie said. “As in dying to know.”

  “I’m dying to know myself!” Candace said. “It’s an impossible choice. On the one hand, a very cute boy likes me. On the other hand, I promised myself no boys. I know some people don’t take their promises so seriously, but I’m just not like that. Help me, Valerie. I really don’t know what to do!”

  “I can’t tell you what to do,” Valerie said. “You know that. I
t’s your decision in the end. You’re the one who has to live with it.”

  “It’s so frustrating,” Candace said. “And I’m so tired of worrying about it. This dance is taking up too much space in my brain! Which is exactly why I decided to boycott boys in the first place.”

  She and Valerie sailed along in silence for a few minutes. Scenes from the first few weeks of camp ran through Candace’s mind. There’d been so much talk about magic and fate and coincidence . . . maybe that was the answer.

  “You know what I think I’ll do?” Candace said. “I’ll let the wind decide for me.”

  “The wind? What do you mean?”

  “I mean, I’ll be like Alyssa,” Candace said. “I’ll let fate, or the universe, or whatever, tell me what to do. It seems to work for her. Look—” She pointed to the mainsail as the wind carried them across the lake. “The wind never steers me wrong. I’ll let it decide whether I go to the dance with Donovan or not.”

  Donovan and Gaby zipped past in their boat, waving. “I’m still not getting you,” Valerie said.

  “I’ll let the regatta decide my fate,” Candace said. The big sailing race would take place the next afternoon. “The dance will depend on whether we win or lose the regatta.”

  “We’re going to win that sucker,” Valerie said.

  “Donovan and Gaby have a chance of beating us,” Candace said. “A good chance. Gaby’s not nearly as klutzy on the boat as she was at first. Of course, she’s not as good a crew as you—” Candace grinned at Val. “But Donovan’s great. And he’s had a lot of race experience. More than me.”

  “So what exactly are you going to do?” Valerie said.

  It all began to take shape in Candace’s mind. Yes. This was the perfect way to make an impossible decision. Leave it to fate. What will be will be.

  “If Donovan and Gaby beat us at the regatta, I’ll go to the dance with him,” Candace said. “But if we beat them, I’ll turn him down.”

  Valerie winced. “That’s harsh. If he loses the race, he loses you too? So he gets to be a two-time loser.”

  “I don’t think he’ll be all that upset—about me, I mean,” Candace said. “Maybe about the race.”

  “What if Gaby hears about this?” Valerie said. “She might try to throw the race if she thinks it will get Donovan away from you.”

  “Throw the race?” Candace hadn’t thought of that, and she was genuinely shocked. “Why would anybody try to lose on purpose?”

  Valerie laughed. “Candace, think about it. This is Gaby we’re talking about. She’ll do anything she has to to get what she wants. Throwing a little sailing race is nothing to her.”

  “Well, she’d better not do that,” Candace said. “Donovan will never like her if she does.”

  “I don’t know,” Valerie said. “This should be interesting.”

  “Interesting . . .” Candace said. Valerie had a point. If Gaby knew she could get Donovan by messing up the race, she’d probably do it. And that meant Candace wasn’t leaving her decision about the dance up to the wind at all. She’d be leaving it up to Gaby. Not a great idea.

  “Let’s not tell Gaby,” Candace said. “Let’s not tell anyone. My little bet with myself will be just between the two of us, okay, Val?”

  “Okay,” Valerie said. “I won’t tell a soul.”

  “Alyssa, will you bless this for me when I’m done?” Gaby asked, dangling a half-beaded anklet from her finger.

  “Will I what?” Alyssa said. “I’m not the Pope, you know.”

  Gaby and Alyssa sat at a table in arts and crafts, stringing beads. Alyssa was making a necklace to wear to the Midsummer Dance, and Gaby was finishing a good-luck anklet to wear during the sailing race.

  “I know you’re not the Pope, duh,” Gaby said. “But I thought that maybe if you just chant something over it, or say some magic words, or whatever it is you do, it might help me win the race tomorrow.”

  “I didn’t know you cared about winning so much,” Alyssa said.

  “I care,” Gaby said. “But Donovan really cares. I was thinking maybe if I help him win, it will make him like me more. We’ll share a great memory, of winning the first regatta of the summer together. It can’t hurt, right?”

  “No, it can’t hurt,” Alyssa said. “And I’ll say any words you want over your anklet, but it won’t help. I’m not a wizard.”

  “You’re a psychic,” Gaby said. “You can predict what will happen.”

  “Maybe.” Alyssa absentmindedly patted the amethyst in its purse, which hung over the back of her chair. She still hadn’t given it back to its rightful owner, whoever she was. Gaby had a feeling Alyssa never would give Amy back—at least not until Mandy grabbed her by the ponytail and dragged her to 5C herself.

  Gaby grabbed Alyssa’s hand. “Please, Alyssa—I can’t stand the suspense! Tell me who will win the regatta. You can predict it, I know you can!”

  “No,” Alyssa said. “Even if I could predict who’ll win, I wouldn’t tell you. It might affect your performance.”

  “No it won’t,” Gaby said. “I’ll try my best no matter what. I promise!”

  “But what if I tell you you’re going to come in fourth,” Alyssa said. “You might get discouraged. Maybe you wouldn’t sail your best. I can’t be responsible for that.”

  “Fourth? You think we’re going to come in fourth?” Gaby was horrified. If they didn’t win, they should at least take second. Donovan was too good to place fourth.

  “No, no.” Alyssa threaded a large blue bead onto a needle. “That was just an example. I have no idea how you’re going to do. But did you see how crazy it made you? That’s why I won’t tell you my prediction.”

  “You’re no fun,” Gaby said.

  Once Gaby brought up the question of the regatta, Alyssa found herself curious—who would win? It seemed to mean an awful lot to both Gaby and Candace.

  Gaby finished her anklet, made of blue and green beads. “It’s very pretty,” Alyssa said. “I like all the watery colors.”

  “Thank you,” Gaby said. “Go ahead, wave your hand over it or something, just for kicks.”

  “Gaby—” Alyssa felt weird about “blessing” Gaby’s anklet when she knew it wouldn’t do anything.

  “What can it hurt?” Gaby said. “Say something like, ‘I hereby declare that you will win the race.’”

  Alyssa waved her hand over the anklet. “May the best sailors win,” she said. Gaby frowned. “Sorry,” Alyssa added. “That’s all I can do.”

  “Spoilsport.” Gaby fastened the anklet around her ankle. “I’ll be right back,” she said, heading for the bathroom.

  While Gaby was in the bathroom, Alyssa slipped Amy out of her purse and, as inconspicuously as possible, cradled the stone in her hand. She closed her eyes and tried to envision the regatta. She pictured the finish line, the boats heading toward it . . . Which boat would cross the line first? She saw two girls, one with a brown ponytail, one with a head full of black braids . . . Candace and Valerie.

  Alyssa put the amethyst away. Hmm . . . so Candace and Val would win. Alyssa decided to write the prediction down, for her own satisfaction. Maybe, after the race was over, she’d show it to her bunkmates to impress them even more with her psychic abilities. She grabbed a scrap of paper and wrote, I, Alyssa, officially predict that the winner of the first regatta will be Candace and Valerie. Then the bathroom door opened. Alyssa quickly slipped the paper into her purse, next to Amy, before Gaby came back.

  “Hey, Nat.”

  Natalie looked up from her Teen Vogue to see Logan blocking her sunlight. She was drying her toes in the sun on the dock, where it was quiet now that sailing and canoeing and swimming practices were over for the day. Hank, the sailing instructor, sat outside the boathouse, untangling ropes.

  “Hi, Logan.” Nat braced herself for more weird behavior. Logan had been nothing but strange since camp had started that summer. Now they were almost a month into it and his behavior had only gotten stranger. Natalie had
spent many nights lying in her bunk wondering what was going on with him. Sometimes she felt that he was thinking of her, but then he seemed to avoid her at all costs . . . She couldn’t figure it out.

  So now, as he stood in her sunlight, she waited to see what he’d do next. Pinch her and run away? Jump into the lake? She was ready for anything except for what he said next.

  “Can I sit down?”

  “Sure.” She slid over a little to make room for him. Now he wanted to sit next to her? She tried to stay cool. “What’s up?”

  He laughed. “You should see the look on your face.”

  “What look?” She wasn’t aware of a look.

  “Like you’re afraid I’m going to steal your purse or something,” Logan said. “Like I’m crazy.”

  “I don’t think you’re crazy,” she said.

  “Well, I have been acting weird lately, I know that,” he said. “But I had a few good reasons.”

  Natalie hugged one of her knees to her chest. This should be interesting. What would his excuse for his weird behavior be? Possessed by the ghost of a long-dead camper? Afraid he had a special strain of super-contagious yet pox-free chicken pox?

  “Well, first, when we got to camp, I wasn’t sure how you felt, and that was freaky,” Logan said. “I didn’t know if you wanted to get back together or not. You never really said, and you were acting kind of nice but not super nice, so it was hard to tell.”

  “I felt the same way about you,” Natalie said. “I had no idea whether you still liked me or what.”

  “I did,” he said. “I mean, I do. I missed you a lot when we broke up, but that kind of made me mad. Missing you, you know? I didn’t want to miss you, I wanted not to care, but I missed you anyway.”

  Wow. That was actually kind of sweet, if you chose to read it that way. She decided to say nothing, to wait and see what was coming next.

  “I kept hoping that feeling would go away,” Logan said. “But it didn’t. And then I saw you sailing with Donovan . . . Was that a date, or what?”