crazed stalker,” Jenna says, “but you don’t want him to know that or he’ll call the cops.”
“Still might be worth it,” I say.
Jenna rolls her eyes. “Then you’ll never see him again and you’ll lose your destiny.”
That clinches it. “Not Kyler, then. Who should I go see?”
A whole list of people runs through my head, from celebrities to my school principal, Ms. Dorio, who’s the most uptight woman I’ve ever met. I’d love to peek in and see what she does on a Saturday night.
“Stop, stop,” Jenna says. “You need to be careful about this. This is amazing, but it’s like the journal. It’s powerful, and it can get you into huge trouble.”
I nod. When I first started using the journal, Jenna told me about “The Monkey’s Paw,” a short story about wishes that came true but with horrible consequences. If I’d listened to her then, I probably would have saved myself a lot of agony. “Okay,” I say. “What do we do? How do I use it?”
Jenna hops back up so she can pace. Her ponytail swishes against her back with every step. Jenna always thinks better in motion.
“Well, you wrote down my name and you got to me….” She freezes and gasps. “How will you get home? You’re a thousand miles away from Florida. How are you going to explain to your mom that you’re here?”
“The map will get me back, right?”
“How? Write down your mom’s name? What if you show up in bed with her when she’s sitting up watching TV?”
I laugh out loud, picturing her face if I just appeared in bed next to her.
“I’m serious!” Jenna says. “Or what if you write down Erick’s name and—”
“Stop,” I cut her off. “Erick’s a twelve-year-old walking hormone. I don’t want to be anywhere near what he does alone in his room at night.”
“Ew,” Jenna agrees.
“I could write down Schmidt’s name.”
“He could be in the room with Erick or your mom.”
“I could write down my own name,” I suggest. “Maybe that would take me to my room?”
“Try it.”
I still have the dry-erase marker in my hand. I’m shaking a little, but I scrawl Autumn across the green patch. I close my eyes and wait to disappear.
“You’re still here,” Jenna finally says.
“I am?” I snap my eyes open. She’s right.
“I just realized something,” she says. “There’s a lot of Jennas and a lot of Autumns. How did you get to
me,
and how did you not just end up next to some other girl named Autumn?”
She has a point. I chew on a strand of my hair and think it over.
“Well…if the
zemi
holds some part of my dad’s spirit,” I say, “it’s not dumb. It probably knows which person I mean, even if I don’t spell it out.”
“That makes sense.”
She says it so seriously that I snort laughing, because sense is the last thing any of this makes. She laughs too, but still picks up one of her pillows and hurls it at me. “Shut up! You know what I mean. Okay, so if the map has an idea of what’s on your mind, how do you think it would get you home?”
Her eyes meet mine, and I know what she’s saying. I nod to her cell phone, which is still on the floor where she dropped it. “Grab your phone,” I say as I tuck my own in my pocket. “I’ll call you.”
I uncap the pen and write Home on the map…
…and suddenly I’m coughing because I’m under my bed and I haven’t dusted in, oh, ever.
I roll out and dial Jenna’s number, but I’m still coughing.
“Are you okay?” she screeches when she hears me. “Is there a fire?”
“Is there a
fire
? Wouldn’t I be screaming if there was a fire?”
“I thought the coughing…Forget it. Where are you?”
“My room. Coughing from the dust bunnies under the bed. Dust bunnies, by the way, nowhere near as cute as actual bunnies.”
“This is amazing,” Jenna says, and I can tell from her voice she’s smiling super-wide.
Then I remember I don’t have to tell from her voice.
“Can I come back over?” I ask.
“YES!”
“Still might be worth it,” I say.
Jenna rolls her eyes. “Then you’ll never see him again and you’ll lose your destiny.”
That clinches it. “Not Kyler, then. Who should I go see?”
A whole list of people runs through my head, from celebrities to my school principal, Ms. Dorio, who’s the most uptight woman I’ve ever met. I’d love to peek in and see what she does on a Saturday night.
“Stop, stop,” Jenna says. “You need to be careful about this. This is amazing, but it’s like the journal. It’s powerful, and it can get you into huge trouble.”
I nod. When I first started using the journal, Jenna told me about “The Monkey’s Paw,” a short story about wishes that came true but with horrible consequences. If I’d listened to her then, I probably would have saved myself a lot of agony. “Okay,” I say. “What do we do? How do I use it?”
Jenna hops back up so she can pace. Her ponytail swishes against her back with every step. Jenna always thinks better in motion.
“Well, you wrote down my name and you got to me….” She freezes and gasps. “How will you get home? You’re a thousand miles away from Florida. How are you going to explain to your mom that you’re here?”
“The map will get me back, right?”
“How? Write down your mom’s name? What if you show up in bed with her when she’s sitting up watching TV?”
I laugh out loud, picturing her face if I just appeared in bed next to her.
“I’m serious!” Jenna says. “Or what if you write down Erick’s name and—”
“Stop,” I cut her off. “Erick’s a twelve-year-old walking hormone. I don’t want to be anywhere near what he does alone in his room at night.”
“Ew,” Jenna agrees.
“I could write down Schmidt’s name.”
“He could be in the room with Erick or your mom.”
“I could write down my own name,” I suggest. “Maybe that would take me to my room?”
“Try it.”
I still have the dry-erase marker in my hand. I’m shaking a little, but I scrawl Autumn across the green patch. I close my eyes and wait to disappear.
“You’re still here,” Jenna finally says.
“I am?” I snap my eyes open. She’s right.
“I just realized something,” she says. “There’s a lot of Jennas and a lot of Autumns. How did you get to
me,
and how did you not just end up next to some other girl named Autumn?”
She has a point. I chew on a strand of my hair and think it over.
“Well…if the
zemi
holds some part of my dad’s spirit,” I say, “it’s not dumb. It probably knows which person I mean, even if I don’t spell it out.”
“That makes sense.”
She says it so seriously that I snort laughing, because sense is the last thing any of this makes. She laughs too, but still picks up one of her pillows and hurls it at me. “Shut up! You know what I mean. Okay, so if the map has an idea of what’s on your mind, how do you think it would get you home?”
Her eyes meet mine, and I know what she’s saying. I nod to her cell phone, which is still on the floor where she dropped it. “Grab your phone,” I say as I tuck my own in my pocket. “I’ll call you.”
I uncap the pen and write Home on the map…
…and suddenly I’m coughing because I’m under my bed and I haven’t dusted in, oh, ever.
I roll out and dial Jenna’s number, but I’m still coughing.
“Are you okay?” she screeches when she hears me. “Is there a fire?”
“Is there a
fire
? Wouldn’t I be screaming if there was a fire?”
“I thought the coughing…Forget it. Where are you?”
“My room. Coughing from the dust bunnies under the bed. Dust bunnies, by the way, nowhere near as cute as actual bunnies.”
“This is amazing,” Jenna says, and I can tell from her voice she’s smiling super-wide.
Then I remember I don’t have to tell from her voice.
“Can I come back over?” I ask.
“YES!”
Similar Books
