Free Whatever After #4: Dream On by Sarah Mlynowski Page A

the tower, including Shaznay and Lottie.
    They don’t look like fairies. They look like regular ladies. Mostly. They all have something slightly odd about them. One has bright-blue hair that’s piled on top of her head. One is wearing platform heels. The platforms are a foot high — they look like stilts. One fairy is so small that she’d probably fit into my clothes, and I’m only ten.
    Well, not only ten. Ten is pretty old. I glare at Jonah. It’s a lot older than seven.
    As soon as the sparkles disappear, all the fairies start squealing and hugging one another. Except for Lottie. She’s standing by herself by the door, looking lonely and sad.
    “Michelle! How are you?”
    “I haven’t seen you in ages!”
    “You look smashing!”
    “Claire, where have you been hiding?!”
    Their voices fill the room. Jonah’s fake tenth birthday party is clearly a fairy reunion.
    “Where’s the birthday boy?” the fairy called Michelle finally asks.
    “Here I am!” Jonah calls out, waving his arms. “I’m turning ten!”
    I roll my eyes at Jonah, but he avoids my glare.
    The fairy in the high heels pinches his cheeks. “Happy birthday!”
    “Happy tenth!” says the one with blue hair. Jonah grins, blushing a little. Oh, please. He’s so loving the attention.
    “Ten is the best!” chimes in Shaznay.
    “And you must be his sister,” says the teeny, tiny fairy.
    I nod, brightening.
    “How old are you ?”
    “I’m t-twelve,” I lie. Well, why not? If he can claim to be ten, I can be twelve.
    On the other side of the room, Bri is pouring the tea. Tom is walking around with a plate of sandwiches.
    The fairies are flitting about, eating, drinking, and checking out the wigistry .
    “Lottie doesn’t look happy,” Jonah whispers to me.
    She’s standing by the celery and she’s definitely scowling. What’s her problem? We invited her, didn’t we? Her lips are pursed like she just sucked on a lemon, and her arms are crossed in front of her chest.
    She’s not hugging or saying hi to anyone.
    Maybe she doesn’t like tea sandwiches.
    “Should we say something to her?” I wonder.
    Jonah shakes his head. “No! What if she puts a mean spell on me?”
    “She’s going to cast a spell for you eventually. We may as well act nicely toward her now. Let’s just go over and say hello. She doesn’t seem to know anyone … maybe she’ll be happy to have someone to talk to. I bet she’s not really that bad.” I march over to her.
    “Hi, Lottie,” I say.
    “Hi,” she says grumpily.
    “So … have you seen Jonah’s wigistry ?” I ask.
    “I have,” she says tightly. “But I don’t like to give people things off their wigistry . It’s so impersonal .”
    “Oooookay,” I say. “But that is why people create a wigistry , you know. So others don’t have to guess what they like. This way, people can be given stuff they need.”
    “Oh, he needs what I’m giving him all right. Wait and see.” Then Lottie cackles.
    Uh-oh. I take a deep breath. Don’t be a curse, don’t be a curse , I mentally plead.
    Just then, Felix runs across the room. Most of the fairies see him coming and move out of the way, but Lottie doesn’t. Felix plows right into Lottie.
    She yelps.
    I hold my breath.
    “It wasn’t me!” he hollers.
    With narrowed eyes, she trains her wand directly on Felix.

W ho was it, then?” Lottie asks, her wand still pointing at Felix.
    Felix looks back and forth between her and her wand. “All right,” he admits, “It was me. Do you want to play Karate Crocs? It’s fun.” He waves it in front of her face.
    Lottie hesitates. She slowly lowers her wand. She looks suspiciously at the game. She shrugs. “Okay.”
    Okay? Really?
    Lottie offers Felix her hand and to my surprise Felix takes it. The two go sit at a table. I can see them playing what used to be Jonah’s game.
    My brother pouts.
    I’m just happy she didn’t turn Felix into a croc.
    “It’s time for the wifticals ,” Bri calls