Don't Drink the Punch! (12 page)

“Can we go home with you now?”

“Oh!” said her mother. “I thought you were planning to sleep over. Is everything all right?”

“Everything's great. Better than great. But I think I've had enough sleepovers for a while. This is Tom Butler from my science class,” said Kayla, releasing her mother from the hug and gesturing to Tom. “Can we drop him off at his home?”

“Of course,” said her mother.

“I'll just run and find my boots and my coat and stuff and be right back,” said Kayla. She hurried into the front hall, took off Alice's one boot, and placed it carefully inside the closet.
No doubt they will find the other boot tomorrow
, she thought. Or
maybe in the spring, when the
snow finally melts.
With the lights back on, she found her coat and boots right away, and her bag and her flat black shoes, too. She shoved them into her bag and was back in the kitchen just moments later.

The grown-up party seemed to have drawn breath again, and Kayla was happy to see everyone talking, milling around, and looking normal once more. The tall man she'd knocked over was standing next to a platter of mini pigs-in-a-blanket, shoveling them into his mouth as though he hadn't eaten all day. She spotted Alice's father standing next to a potted plant, having a heated conversation with someone on his phone.

Quietly she closed the door and left.

EPILOGUE

FIVE YEARS LATER

“Wow, I haven't been back to this neighborhood in ages,” said Kayla, clutching Tom's arm tightly to her side as they walked down a charming little block in Fairbridge. It was a beautiful spring day. Tulips swayed in the gentle breeze in front of a modern-looking coffee bar, which took up most of the block. Across the street were several trendy clothing boutiques.

Tom stopped and looked down at her. “Kay, you do know where we are, right? It's the same block where that store used to be. The one that Matilda used to own.”

Kayla's jaw dropped. “You're right. I haven't been back to this part of town since my mom became head of admissions at the academy and they gave us an
on-campus house to live in. This coffee shop used to be an antique store, and a dress store. I wonder what ever happened to Matilda? She disappeared after that Valentine's Day.”

They were both quiet, staring at the place where Esoterica had once been, lost in their own thoughts. They'd talked a lot about the events of that fateful night five years ago. After that night, Alice, Jess, and Pria had basically stopped talking to Kayla. For a while she'd sat by herself in the cafeteria, miserable and lonely, but eventually she'd made friends with a new group of kids, through Tom, and had discovered they were pretty cool in their own way. The next year she and Tom had both been accepted at Fairbridge Academy on full scholarships. They had gone out briefly and remained friends. And this past summer, they had rediscovered each other, beyond being “just friends.”

“Hey, we're second-semester seniors, and we both got into the same college,” said Tom. “I think we deserve to take the afternoon off from studying, don't you? Let's chill a little, for a change. I'll buy you a latte.”

Kayla smiled. “Sounds good to me.”

The coffee shop was warm and inviting and smelled
heavenly, like roast coffee and baking muffins. They found a table near the window and sat across from each other, holding hands.

“Have you seen those girls around much?” he asked.

Kayla knew who he meant. She shook her head. “No, I think Pria and Jess are still at Fairbridge High School. I heard Pria became pretty good at gymnastics. And Jess was into diving. But we lost touch after middle school, after I came to the academy. I saw them a couple of years ago at the mall—they looked just the same as ever, but they pretended they didn't know me.”

“Yeah, I kind of fell out of that group of guys I used to hang out with, after my cousin Scott moved to Arizona,” said Tom. “I think he was the only reason they tolerated having me around. It was satisfying to grow to be six-three, though. I'm petty enough to admit, it was pretty cool to score twenty-eight points against Fairbridge High's basketball team this past season, especially with Nick Maroulis trying to guard me.”

Kayla rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Tom. I don't know what I see in you.”

“Yes, you do,” he said, squeezing both her hands in his and grinning at her with that half smile she had
always loved so much. He reached across the table and lovingly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I heard that Alice's parents sent her away, to some boarding school in Switzerland, I think,” Kayla continued. “I haven't laid eyes on her since eighth grade. Maybe she grew up a little bit. I hope so.”

The waitress appeared at their table, holding two steaming cups, which she set down in front of them.

“What are these?” asked Tom, puzzled. “We haven't ordered yet.”

The waitress smiled. “Two double tall, triple-vanilla, extra-caramel macchiatos, extra hot, with whipped,” she said. “Compliments of an old friend.”

Tom and Kayla exchanged surprised looks, then turned and looked around the coffee shop. The waitress left.

“Do you know anyone in here?” Kayla asked Tom.

“Not a one,” he replied.

“They sure smell delicious,” said Kayla, closing her eyes and breathing in the fragrant aroma of her drink.

They both lifted their cups to their lips.

Tom spat his back out. “Don't drink it!” he hissed.

Kayla spat the sip she'd just taken back into her cup and looked at him. “What's the matter?”

“Does that girl over there look familiar to you?”

Tom was gesturing toward the corner of the room, directly behind Kayla. She turned around in her chair.

A girl was sitting by herself at a table. She looked about twelve. Kayla whipped back around and stared at Tom.

“Is that . . . Alice?”

He nodded. “Sure looks like it.”

“But—but—how
could
it be? The girl over there looks like she's only twelve or thirteen years old!”

“I know. Like she hasn't grown a day since that night.”

Kayla's eyes grew huge. “You don't think . . . did Matilda . . . oh no.”

Tom picked up where she'd left off. “Matilda must have given Alice the same potion she'd been given. The one that stopped her from growing up.”

Kayla was racking her brain, trying to remember. “It must have been those green mints she gave the three of them that day. Matilda told us they were for our complexions and our hair. I remember I wanted to take one, but she wouldn't let me have one. She told me I was a hopeless case.”

“She was protecting you from their fate.”

“Now that I think about it, that time I saw Pria and
Jess at the mall? They didn't look like they'd aged either.” Kayla passed a hand over her brow, horror written across her face.

“Don't look. She's standing up. She's walking out.”

Kayla stared straight ahead. Tom looked down at his drink. The girl passed their table without a glance at them. As she pushed her way through the door, Kayla darted a look at her.

The girl was looking back at Kayla. It was definitely Alice. She was still beautiful, with her lovely, glossy hair. But her face had changed and hardened. A sinister smile played on her lips. She pulled the door closed behind her and hurried away.

“Did you swallow any of it?” asked Tom hoarsely.

“No, I don't think so,” said Kayla. “I might have had some foam on my lip, though. I might have tasted a bit of that.” She looked at Tom, wild-eyed. “Do you think she did something to our drinks?”

Tom shrugged. “I don't know, Kay. I guess we'll have to wait and find out.”

One Friday night Lizzy Draper and Emmy Spencer were watching TV and eating popcorn at Lizzy's house. This was because Lizzy didn't seem to want to do anything else.

“Pass the popcorn, Lizzy?” Emmy asked her best friend.

Lizzy passed it over with a slightly annoyed look. “It's Liz, remember?” she asked Emmy. “Now that I'm not five anymore?”

“Oh, right. Sorry, Liz,” Emmy mumbled. Emmy had a bad feeling in her stomach, the same feeling she'd been having for a few months now. Things were different between the lifelong best friends. There was no denying it. It was simple: Now that they were in seventh grade,
Lizzy had become popular and Emmy had not. Lizzy was talking to boys, and Emmy was not. Lizzy was wearing lip gloss, and Emmy was not. Lizzy—

“Hey, you know something?” Lizzy interrupted Emmy's thoughts. “You could maybe start going by a more mature name yourself.”

“What do you mean? Change my name?” Emmy asked.

“No, silly,” Lizzy said. “Just go by something like Em. Or Emma.”

“Em might be okay,” Emmy responded. “But my full name's not Emma. It's Emily.”

“Right, but Emma is much cooler,” Lizzy said, looking totally serious.

“I kind of like Em,” said Emmy. “But it would take some getting used to. Hey, I know. Instead of Liz, I could call you Lizard.” Emmy laughed at her own joke.

“Like when I was three?” Lizzy asked sarcastically.

Emmy thought it might be a good idea to change the subject. “So what are we going to be for the costume party this year?”

Lizzy paused and examined the pattern on the rug. “Oh,” she said. “I was going to tell you. I'm going to do a
group costume with Cadence and Sophie.”

Ouch. Emmy tried to keep the hurt out of her voice. “But we had so much fun last year,” she said.

The costume party was part of their school's spirit week, which was only a few weeks away. When Lizzy and Emmy were in sixth grade, they heard rumors about how competitive some of the kids got with their costumes, and they were a little scared to participate. But then Emmy had the most brilliant idea: Lizzy could dress up as a bug and Emmy could go as a can of bug spray. Lizzy had loved it and so had everyone else. They even won an honorable mention for such a creative costume—an honor very few sixth graders ever received.

Emmy had been thinking of ideas for this year's costume for months now, but apparently it was all for nothing. At this moment, Emmy was feeling a lot like she was an actual bug and Lizzy was the spray.

“I know,” Lizzy said. “Sorry.”

Lizzy's mom, Marilyn, poked her head into the family room. “You girls should turn off the TV soon,” she said.

“There's nothing else to do, Mom,” Lizzy said with a hint of a whine. Emmy couldn't help but notice that
Lizzy had stopped calling her mother “Mommy,” which Emmy still called her mother. What was with all these name changes?

“I can't believe my ears,” her mom said. “You two have always found fun things to do together at your sleepovers.” It was true. They'd make crazy concoctions in the kitchen, pretend to open up a beauty parlor, write short plays and perform them for their parents, carve bars of soap into funny shapes, and do plenty of other creative stuff.