Maggie Malone Makes a Splash (9 page)

“
Way
back
when, before I knew, some fairy tales they just
don't come true…”

Out of nowhere, my blissful sleep is interrupted by the sounds of Becca Starr's chart-topping hit.
Is
this
a
sound
check? Am I supposed to be on stage somewhere? Is the band rehearsing without me?
Wait a minute, I'm not Becca Starr anymore! I'm Marina Tide, ocean explorer, super swimmer, and most of all, friend to Skipper. And of course, Zac.

Zac.

I hit my snooze button and bolt upright in bed—a bed that's not rocking softly from side to side anymore—and pry my exhausted eyelids open. There's my cozy polka-dot chair in the corner. The purple vanity table that I helped my mom paint is right next to my closet, and my fluffy zebra-striped rug is right in the middle of it all. I'm home. I'm Maggie Malone again. And if I'm not mistaken or smack in the middle of some crazy dream, I saved an entire coral reef yesterday, swam with my own pet dolphin (well, he was my own for the day), dove clear down to the dark and faraway bottom of the ocean, and hung out with pretty much the coolest, sweetest (and cutest) guy on the planet.

The memories come flooding back, and I feel dizzier than the time Stella and I had a contest to see who could spin in a circle the most times in one minute. (I beat Stella sixty-three to sixty-one. And then I puked. But I won! I tried not to gloat or anything afterward though, because my dad always says if you're a poor winner, you might as well be the loser.)

I look at my wall calendar and realize it's Tuesday. The crazy thing about the MMBs—oh, who am I kidding?
Everything
about the MMBs is crazy! I guess maybe I should say
one
of the craziest things about the MMBs—is that time stops when I wear them. So even though I had this incredible, jam-packed day full of giant turtles and deep-sea diving and crime-busting and Zac, it was still only yesterday that I tried out for the swim team and made second alternate. Which means that my first practice, alongside Brianna, the pint-size witch of the Pinkerton Minnows, is today. And I was supposed to convince Elizabeth to quit…or else. Instead, she unfriended me because she thinks I'm a big, fat liar.
This
day ought to be fun.

After I get dressed and brush my teeth and scrunch my hair with wet hands, I stuff my goggles and new team suit into my backpack and breeze through the kitchen. I thought about just switching to yearbook, but then Elizabeth would be shark bait. Even though she doesn't want to be my friend anymore, I can't let her be munched by Brianna the piranha. There's a toasted bagel on the counter smeared with strawberry cream cheese, next to a note from my mom scrawled on a napkin in bright red Sharpie. “Hope you have the best day EVER. Love you more!”

That's kind of a thing we do. Whenever one of us says “love you,” the other always says “love you more!” A lot of times my mom says just the “love you more” part, even though I didn't say anything first. When she does, it's like she's saying she already knows how much I love her, which makes me feel really good. I grab my bagel and run back toward her bathroom, where she's in the shower.

“Mom?” I shout through the bathroom door.

“What is it, sweetie?” she calls back.

“Love
you
the most!” I yell. “Bye!”

I take off, dashing out the front door and around to the side of the house where my bike is stashed. I jump on it and check my watch. Right on time to meet Stella! I can't wait to tell her everythi—

Rotten, stinking rats!
Did I mention the other thing about the MMBs? Not a peep to anyone, not even Stella, or all of that magic will just disappear. How unfair is
that
? I mean, magic is cool and everything, but half of the fun of anything cool is sharing it with your BFF!

I coast to the corner of Spruce and Maple and wait for the light to change, my head swimming with a zillion thoughts. Poor Zac and how he must be feeling today on the boat. Elizabeth and how she thinks I'm a liar. Lexi and Captain Jack and the super-hot water they're in right this very minute. Tiny, two-faced Brianna and her giant threats. I shake my head to try to make those thoughts go away or at least settle them down a bit.

“Margaret Flannery Malone!” I hear from what feels like far, far away. “Earth to Maggie!” Stella is waving wildly at me from the opposite corner. I wave back and do the twirly-finger-to-the-temple move we always do when we bust each other daydreaming. The light changes and I pedal over to Stella's side.

“Well?” she demands right away. “How did tryouts go? I called you, like, eleventy billion times last night and emailed you at least fifteen more! The suspense is killing me!”

“Sorry,” I tell her. “Tryouts were crazy and then I had this huge paper to write for English class, which by the way isn't nearly as fun as the English class at Sacred—”

Stella cuts me off. “
Did
you
make
the
team?
” she wants to know, rolling her eyes and doing the twirly-finger-to-temple move back at me.

“Oh, right, that!” I laugh. “Yeah, well, sort of. Second alternate. But it's better than nothing, right?”

“Way better,” Stella agrees, giving me a thumbs-up while pedaling alongside me.

“Yeah, I guess…except there's this one thing,” I tell Stella.

“What is it?” she wants to know. “And make it snappy, we've got to split up in two blocks!”

“Well, I tried out with my new friend Elizabeth from Pinkerton. I told you about her, right?” I say. “And it turns out she's, like, crazy good, which is great, but…”

“So? You're crazy good too!” Stella shouts, standing up on her bike pedals and doing a rolling dance in my honor.

“Thanks, Stella. She's, like,
Olympic
good, but that's not the problem. See, there's this kid on the team—she's actually the coach's daughter and her name's Brianna—and when Elizabeth kicked her butt in tryouts, Brianna told me that it was up to
me
to get Elizabeth to quit the team or she'd make both our lives miserable.”

Stella actually laughs at this. “She's threatening
Margaret
Flannery
Malone
? She obviously doesn't know who she's dealing with! Does she know I taught you those super-fast and dangerous karate moves?” Stella thinks she's got skills like the star in
The
Karate
Girl
.

“The other problem,” I tell Stella, looking at my watch, “is that I tried to tell Elizabeth what Brianna said…but she doesn't believe me. She thinks I'm making it all up because I'm jealous that she made the team and I'm only an alternate.” My stomach sinks when I say this out loud.

“Well, then you just need to set her straight,” Stella says. “If she's a real friend, she'll listen to you. Am I right? I mean, you either trust your friends or you don't. And if she's not smart enough to trust
you
, I say you're better off without her. Shoot, gotta run or I'll be late. You okay?” We're at the corner where we have to go in opposite directions.

“I'm good, Stella. Thanks,” I tell her, trying to smile.

“Hey, Mags,” she calls over her shoulder as she crosses the street. “You've got this.”

That's what they all say
, I think to myself as I cruise the last block to Pinkerton. I sure hope they're right.

I see Elizabeth pulling up to the bike rack at the same time as me. I figure that's kind of perfect! We can get this misunderstanding straightened out before school starts. But a funny thing happens. Not funny like ha-ha; funny like a three-headed-monster coming after you—as in
not
funny
at
all
.

“Hey, Elizabeth!” I say, locking up my bike. She parks hers on the opposite side of the rack.

I know she heard me, because she's
standing
right
there
. But she's pretending I didn't say a word, like somebody hit the Maggie Malone mute button or something.

“Elizabeth?” I say again as she pulls her book bag from the basket on her bike and slings it over her shoulder. Nothing. She just looks straight ahead and walks away toward the multipurpose room.

Okey
dokey. I get it. She's giving me the silent treatment.
My mom always says if someone's not being nice, then you should just leave them alone and go find somebody else to hang out with. Since it's better than following Elizabeth around like a lost, pathetic puppy dog, I decide that's what I'll do.

I get to my locker, and wouldn't you know it? Clumsy Carl Lumberton is there, above my bottom locker. Papers and pencils and half-eaten stale sandwiches are pouring out of his locker like an avalanche.

“Organize much, Carl?” I say. He just looks at me with his mouth hanging half open and goes back to trying to get his locker shut. He's not much of a conversationalist.

I stand there for another three torturous minutes but it's no use. Carl might be here all day. I realize I have my Spanish notebook and textbook in my backpack so I decide to head straight to class.

“
Hola
, Margarita!” Señora Burro says when I walk in. Did you know that “burro” is Spanish for donkey? So back in her homeland, which I'm not sure but I think might be Mexico, they call her Mrs. Donkey. Maybe that's not considered a bad thing in Mexico, but around here, donkeys aren't known to the smartest ponies in the pasture, if you know what I mean.

I slide into a seat next to Alicia, who looks at me like two slimy tentacles just sprouted out of my head and are about to snatch her up and sling her to a pack of hungry wolves.

“Uh…oh, sorry, Maggie,” Alicia says with a scared half-smile. “Winnie's sitting there.”

“Wow, I didn't even see her,” I say, pretending to look around. “I hope I didn't squish her too badly!” Alicia doesn't laugh.

“Well, she's not sitting there yet, but I'm saving it for her,” Alicia says, not meeting my eyes.

She's saving a seat for Winnie Ipswitch? This is new.

“No prob,” I say, plopping my book bag next to an empty seat behind Lucy.

“Actually, that one's for Elizabeth—she asked me to save it for her,” Lucy says with a shrug.

“O…kay…” I mumble to myself. I can feel my face getting hot. I look around the room and finally find a seat against the cold cement wall at the way-back of the room.

I can't focus on gender-specific Spanish pronouns for one second, even though I know we're having a quiz tomorrow and this is probably my only shot at understanding them.

The truth of what's happening starts to sink in, and my eyes start filling up with tears. I swear my body has a mind of its own and is always insists on announcing to the world exactly how I'm feeling. Ugh. I try not to blink, but you know you can only do that so long. Finally when I do, a puddle of tears plops on the page where a guy is smiling and waving while riding a burro. This makes me laugh a little because I wonder if that donkey might be Mrs. Burro's second cousin.

I quickly swipe the tiny tear puddle off my page, and wouldn't you know it? It hits Carl Lumberton right in the arm. I figure he's going to look at me all mean like,
Thanks
a
lot
for
spitting
on
me, Malone
, but instead he looks down and wipes the corner of his mouth. He assumed he drooled on his own arm. I exhale a sigh of relief. You have to appreciate small victories at a time like this.

I lean back against the icy wall and wonder how everything got so bad so fast. So much for turning things around at Pinkerton.