Free Twist My Charm by Toni Gallagher Page A

thinking it over. “That’s not so bad, though. You wouldn’t drink a lemonade you didn’t pour, right?”
    “I was hoping that, but when Sam walked away, I turned around and it was gone.”
    “The lemonade…with the potion in it…was gone?”
    Madison nods, biting her lip and picking at her nail cuticles. She looks worried, frustrated, and almost scared. So I try to make her feel better.
    “I’m sure someone threw it out.”
    “You think so?” Madison’s blue eyes look hopeful.
    “Sure,” I say. But inside I’m imagining everything that could have gone wrong: A teacher drank it and then talked to a student….A student drank it and then talked to a teacher….Lisa Lee drank it and then talked to the papier-mâché Ryder Landry head….
    This is a problem. More than a problem. This could be big, big trouble—at school and at home. Madison must think everything’s okay, though, because she’s already smiling again, ready to check out more artwork. I smile too, but I feel like my heart has turned into a block of cement.
    What in the world happened to that cup of lemonade?
    —
    Dad seems happier than usual over the weekend…and I don’t like it.
    I wake up Saturday morning to Toby yowling at the foot of my bed like one of the coyotes we sometimes hear in our neighborhood. But his howls are only the second-most annoying sound I hear. Far away in the kitchen, a loud, mechanical grinding sound keeps going on and on—GRRRRRRR! GRRRRRRR!—starting, stopping, then starting again. From my bed, I call Toby over and pat him on the head to calm him down. Then I get up with a groan and shuffle down the hall. “Dad? What’s that noise?”
    Inside the kitchen there’s an unusual sight. Dad is dressed—in clothes, not the underwear and T-shirt he usually wears until at least noon on the weekend. His hair almost looks brushed, and he’s even wearing laced-up sneakers instead of flip-flops.
    He pushes a button on the blender, and the noise grinds to a halt. “Remember that one week when we tried to eat more green foods? After your healthy play?”
    Of course I do. Yuck.
    “I know that didn’t work out for us,” he admits, “so I’m trying something better—homemade smoothies!” Dad is so excited you’d think he whipped up a pot of gold coins and cupcakes. “I know you like strawberries and blueberries and bananas, but I mixed in the
really
healthy stuff so sneakily you won’t even be able to taste it.”
    I pull out a chair and sit at the table. “Why are you in such a good mood?” I ask.
    “Oh, I don’t know,” Dad says. “It was nice seeing your artwork last night and talking to your friends.”
    And seeing Terri?
I wonder. No, more likely he’s happy he saw Paige. Ugh. Maybe I once thought she was cool and pretty and had lots to teach me, but now I don’t want her anywhere around Dad. I want Samantha to be my friend, not my sister. And I want Dad to be with his
Only One.
    Dad pours the thick purple smoothie into two big cups. He hands me one with a yellow smiley face on it. The smile matches his.
    “Thanks,” I say with no enthusiasm whatsoever. “I’m going back to my room.”
    “Okay, but don’t stay there all day. It’s too nice a day to waste!”
    “Cool, Dad.” I’m walking away so he doesn’t see my frown.
    When Dad and Terri broke up, Dad sat at his computer day and night with his shoulders slumped. Our curtains were closed, keeping out the sunlight. Mounds of dust and Toby hair started piling up in corners. I didn’t like any of that. But Dad being in a good mood isn’t much better. It’s irritating, especially when all I want to do is look through
POCIÓNES FANTÁSTICOS
and figure out if there’s any way to turn a love potion around so he and Paige
don’t
fall in love. I have no free time the entire weekend, though, because Dad bursts into my room wanting to go to an art museum downtown. Later we pull weeds in the backyard, and on Sunday we go for a bike ride around the