Yellow Brick War
Page 22
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If I couldn’t have Nox in my life the way I wanted, could I have him in my life like this?
Madison cleared her throat. “Okay, Amy, spill,” she said. “Where the hell have you been? Obviously not in a hospital. You couldn’t even fool Strachan with that line of crap, although that’s the story he fed the school. Count your blessings, I guess.”
There was no way I could tell them. Absolutely none. But in spite of myself, I was starting to like this weird, new Team Madison. And I was weirdly touched by how nice they were being to me. Could I trust them? Did it matter? What the hell, it wasn’t like I had anyone else.
“I have a better idea,” I said. “Why don’t you guys help me out with something.”
Dustin Jr. let out an excited burble and vomited. Madison, not missing a beat as she swabbed him off with a handful of napkins, raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow. “What kind of something?”
“Something secret,” I said.
Madison’s eyes lit up. “I love secrets,” she said as her baby giggled. “I knew there was a reason I missed you.”
“Remember your book report on Dorothy?” She nodded. “You’re going to help me find that bitch’s shoes.”
TEN
“Dorothy’s shoes?” Madison’s eyes were wide in disbelief. “You really did get hit on the head, right? News flash, babe. Dorothy isn’t a real person.”
“Well . . . ,” I said, hesitating. “I can explain—” But I was cut off by the bell for fifth period. Dustin and Madison were staring at me. Dustin Jr. burped and closed his eyes. “Meet me after school,” I said in a rush. “On the front steps. It will make sense. Sort of. I promise.” But they were gathering up their books and bags.
“Gotta hose this little dude off,” Madison said, not meeting my eyes. Okay, fine. Madison had been the worst thing in my life before I left for Oz, and Dustin had just been a dopey dreamer who I thought I had something in common with. Who was I kidding? We weren’t friends. And it didn’t matter, because I didn’t need them. I’d done everything else on my own. I could do this, too. Dustin gave me a little wave as they walked away from me. I waved back. At least he’d always been nice. Even if it was only because he wanted something from me.
I needed a plan, but I didn’t even know where to start. Gert, Mombi, and Glamora hadn’t given me much to go on. In between pre-calc and PE I ducked into the girls’ bathroom, locked myself in a stall, and did my best to send out a couple of tendrils of magic just to see if I suddenly could. But it was no use. I was going to have to do this the hard way, and I didn’t have a clue where to start.
To make my day even worse, I had a hot date with Assistant Principal Strachan. He’d told my mom I’d have to come in and meet with him on my first day back. The last thing I wanted was to make waves, so I made sure I was at his office ten minutes early. The receptionist, Mrs. Perkins, had probably been working at the high school when my grandmother was in diapers. She was a sweet older lady who always wore matching twinsets, no matter the weather, and kept a stash of lollipops in her desk drawer. Which I knew, because I’d spent a lot of time in Assistant Principal Strachan’s office. But Mrs. Perkins never judged me no matter how many times I got in trouble. I think secretly she was on my side.
“Amy!” she exclaimed as I walked into the school office. “It’s been a while since you visited!” She winked at me and dug a lollipop out of her drawer before I even asked. “The principal will be with you in just a moment. Have a seat.”
“Cherry! You remembered,” I said, sitting in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs. I didn’t really care that much about Mrs. Perkins’s lollipops, but she always seemed so happy when I took one that I pretended to be excited. A few minutes later, I could hear Assistant Principal Strachan yelling for me from behind his door. Mrs. Perkins winked at me again as I took a deep breath and walked into his office.
If I’d changed in the last month, Assistant Principal Strachan definitely hadn’t. His wire-rimmed glasses were slipping down his big, bulbous nose. His pitch-black toupee was slightly askew, revealing a thin tuft of graying hair underneath. His suit was the same one he wore every single day—and probably had been wearing every single day since around 1995. His beady brown eyes peered at me through his glasses. And, as usual, he didn’t look happy to see me.
“Miss Gumm,” he growled, pointing to a chair in the corner like I was a kid. I guess I did still have that lollipop. “Very nice of you to rejoin us after your little sojourn.” <
Madison cleared her throat. “Okay, Amy, spill,” she said. “Where the hell have you been? Obviously not in a hospital. You couldn’t even fool Strachan with that line of crap, although that’s the story he fed the school. Count your blessings, I guess.”
There was no way I could tell them. Absolutely none. But in spite of myself, I was starting to like this weird, new Team Madison. And I was weirdly touched by how nice they were being to me. Could I trust them? Did it matter? What the hell, it wasn’t like I had anyone else.
“I have a better idea,” I said. “Why don’t you guys help me out with something.”
Dustin Jr. let out an excited burble and vomited. Madison, not missing a beat as she swabbed him off with a handful of napkins, raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow. “What kind of something?”
“Something secret,” I said.
Madison’s eyes lit up. “I love secrets,” she said as her baby giggled. “I knew there was a reason I missed you.”
“Remember your book report on Dorothy?” She nodded. “You’re going to help me find that bitch’s shoes.”
TEN
“Dorothy’s shoes?” Madison’s eyes were wide in disbelief. “You really did get hit on the head, right? News flash, babe. Dorothy isn’t a real person.”
“Well . . . ,” I said, hesitating. “I can explain—” But I was cut off by the bell for fifth period. Dustin and Madison were staring at me. Dustin Jr. burped and closed his eyes. “Meet me after school,” I said in a rush. “On the front steps. It will make sense. Sort of. I promise.” But they were gathering up their books and bags.
“Gotta hose this little dude off,” Madison said, not meeting my eyes. Okay, fine. Madison had been the worst thing in my life before I left for Oz, and Dustin had just been a dopey dreamer who I thought I had something in common with. Who was I kidding? We weren’t friends. And it didn’t matter, because I didn’t need them. I’d done everything else on my own. I could do this, too. Dustin gave me a little wave as they walked away from me. I waved back. At least he’d always been nice. Even if it was only because he wanted something from me.
I needed a plan, but I didn’t even know where to start. Gert, Mombi, and Glamora hadn’t given me much to go on. In between pre-calc and PE I ducked into the girls’ bathroom, locked myself in a stall, and did my best to send out a couple of tendrils of magic just to see if I suddenly could. But it was no use. I was going to have to do this the hard way, and I didn’t have a clue where to start.
To make my day even worse, I had a hot date with Assistant Principal Strachan. He’d told my mom I’d have to come in and meet with him on my first day back. The last thing I wanted was to make waves, so I made sure I was at his office ten minutes early. The receptionist, Mrs. Perkins, had probably been working at the high school when my grandmother was in diapers. She was a sweet older lady who always wore matching twinsets, no matter the weather, and kept a stash of lollipops in her desk drawer. Which I knew, because I’d spent a lot of time in Assistant Principal Strachan’s office. But Mrs. Perkins never judged me no matter how many times I got in trouble. I think secretly she was on my side.
“Amy!” she exclaimed as I walked into the school office. “It’s been a while since you visited!” She winked at me and dug a lollipop out of her drawer before I even asked. “The principal will be with you in just a moment. Have a seat.”
“Cherry! You remembered,” I said, sitting in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs. I didn’t really care that much about Mrs. Perkins’s lollipops, but she always seemed so happy when I took one that I pretended to be excited. A few minutes later, I could hear Assistant Principal Strachan yelling for me from behind his door. Mrs. Perkins winked at me again as I took a deep breath and walked into his office.
If I’d changed in the last month, Assistant Principal Strachan definitely hadn’t. His wire-rimmed glasses were slipping down his big, bulbous nose. His pitch-black toupee was slightly askew, revealing a thin tuft of graying hair underneath. His suit was the same one he wore every single day—and probably had been wearing every single day since around 1995. His beady brown eyes peered at me through his glasses. And, as usual, he didn’t look happy to see me.
“Miss Gumm,” he growled, pointing to a chair in the corner like I was a kid. I guess I did still have that lollipop. “Very nice of you to rejoin us after your little sojourn.” <
