The Curiosities (Carolrhoda Ya) Read Online Free PDF Page A

any magical philosophy, and is less about amazing magic than metaphor . I often think of my magic as a sprawling, visceral, messy creature that slinks through my stories—but like most things, in Brenna’s imagination magic is a cold, sharp weapon. —Tessa
    I’ve always been fascinated by the idea of wishes, and more than that, the idea of wishes gone bad. When I was really young, I had an audio version of “The Monkey’s Paw” [by W. W. Jacobs] and I think it scarred me for life. This story isn’t as gruesome as that one, but then it still has an element of danger—the complication of a rogue wish. —Brenna

    I am two and occasionally four times more invisible than anyone else at school.
    I don’t mean that I’m ugly. If I were, I think that people would see me. And maybe their stares would feel cruel and impertinent, but at least I’d know that I was real.
    I’m not ugly, though—just transparent. Forgettable. I blend in. I can disappear in a heartbeat.
    My best friend, Embry Gleason, says that this is the principle of how objects that are Harper Prescott tend to remain unnoticed. Embry is better at physics than anyone else in the junior class. She can build a model glider out of balsa wood or cardboard or mashed potatoes. She could probably engineer a pretty sizable bridge. I can’t even put up shelves.
    But there is one trick that I can do. All I need is a pen and a piece of paper.
    All my life, my mom has been telling me not to—not to be careless, not to be tempted. That just because you can do something doesn’t mean you should. But what she doesn’t know won’t hurt me. Mostly, I use the trick for little things—to make sure the science test is only on the material I know, or that Mr. Lester doesn’t assign us extra homework on weekends.
    It goes like this—write it down, then tear it up:
    The lesson ends, the bell rings. Class is over and people start to file out. Lester has forgotten to announce the reading.
    Later, the wish takes on a life of its own. It comes true.

    Simple, right?
    . . .
    But here is where the trick went wrong.
    “My mom says I have to go to the homecoming dance,” I told Embry in the library at lunch. “Apparently it’s what ‘normal’ people do. It’s completely going to suck. You should come with me.”
    But I knew she wouldn’t. Even if Embry had wanted to attend a school function, her mom never lets her do anything.
    “Don’t even go,” she said. “Just do your pen trick and make your mom take it back.”
    “I can’t. I’m not supposed to do that stuff at all, but especially not on people. What if she found out?”
    Embry gave me a bored look. “I think you want to go. You want Colin Cray to see you in Rosie’s old prom dress and fall madly in love with you and ask you to dance to ‘Lady in Red’ or ‘Unchained Melody’ or something else equally wrist-slitting.”
    “I don’t,” I said, but I was thinking about the possibility despite myself, thinking of his hands on my waist. His eyes gazing raptly down into mine.
    The thing about Colin Cray is, you don’t get to be that handsome and that popular without having some pretty predictable tastes. He wears DC skate shoes and dark, worn-out jeans. He worships girls like the Solomon sisters, who have long, tan legs and fabulous hair. He does not even exist on the same astral plane as girls like me.
    You shouldn’t use magic on people—even hedge magic. I know that. It’s too imperfect, too unpredictable. But what about for something small and harmless? What about just once?

    The trick is to be specific, but not cluttered. The trick is to know exactly what you want.
    After the bell rang and Embry left for trig, I sat alone in the library and wrote the spell to counteract Colin’s adoration of Valerie Solomon, undo the way he looked at her.
    Colin thought he was so in love, so in love that it hurt his heart, but he was wrong. That was before he noticed Harper Prescott. He saw her at the homecoming