The Wish Read Online Free PDF

reasons.”
    â€œWhere are you going?”
    The bus was half a block away. I didn’t want her to feel bad because nobody had invited her to a sleepover. “Uhh . . .” There was an eyeglass store on the corner. “To the eye doctor.” The bus pulled up. “See you.”
    She waved.
    On the bus I decided there had been no reason for me to protect Daphne’s feelings. Plenty of kids went to sleepovers. It was a fact of life. A fact of my life now. I had to toughen up.
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    When I got back to BeeBee’s, it was seven thirty and Ardis was still there. Everybody was sitting on the floor, leaning against rolled-up sleeping bags and eating Chinese takeout.
    The first thing I did was look at the spot where Reggie had peed. I couldn’t tell. There was no stain, no holes in the metal. “It doesn’t show,” I said.
    â€œIt better not,” Ardis said. “After all we did.”
    BeeBee nodded. “We used soap and detergent and disinfectant—everything except toothpaste. Then Nina did a curing spell, and we all felt better.”
    I guess I looked confused, because Nina said, “I’m very New Age. Points off for being out of it, Wilma.”
    I nodded like I understood.
    â€œThe chicken with cashews is good,” Ardis said.
    â€œTry the Szechuan shrimp,” Nina said, pointing at the container with her chopsticks. “I like to chew on the red peppers and watch flames shoot out of my nose.”
    I sat between BeeBee and Ardis. Whenever I tried to use chopsticks, I wound up with food in my lap, so I took one of the plastic forks from the restaurant. But I felt uncomfortable eating differently from everyone else.
    â€œForks are much easier,” Ardis said. “I don’t know why we bother with chopsticks.” She reached for a fork.
    I smiled at her. Ardis made you feel comfortable. Maybe that was her secret.
    Then I had an amazing thought—did she switch so she could eat the way I did?
    â€œWe use chopsticks for the authentic Chinese experience,” Nina said. “On a floor in a sculpture studio in Manhattan.” She took a fork too. I couldn’t believe it.
    Downstairs, high heels clicked across the vestibule. A woman’s voice rose from the stairwell. “I’m coming up.”
    BeeBee, Nina, and Ardis mouthed Mrs. Molzen’s next words while she said them.
    â€œHide the contraband, girls. Here comes the fuzz.”
    â€œHi, Mrs. Molzen,” Ardis said.
    â€œGreetings, Ardis, Nina.” She stopped when she came to me.
    â€œMom, this is Wilma Sturtz.”
    I put my plate on the floor and stood up. “Hello, Mrs. Molzen.”
    She surveyed me. “Polite. The last time somebody stood—”
    â€œMom . . .” BeeBee said warningly.
    â€œAll right. No old-fogey talk. I just came up to see if you girls are having fun. Bernice Beryl, be sure to bring down the leftovers and the trash.”
    Bernice Beryl was BeeBee’s real name? Astounding.
    â€œRight, Mom.”
    Mrs. Molzen clattered back downstairs.
    â€œNow you know the truth about me,” BeeBee said. “My true name and my embarrassment of a mother.”
    â€œYou should see my mother,” I said. Then I felt disloyal. There was nothing wrong with Mom, except that she only let me have one dog and she made me share a room with Maud. “Your mom is fine,” I added. “And so is mine.”
    â€œDo we have to talk about parents?” Nina said.
    â€œWhat do you want to talk about?” Ardis asked.
    â€œI don’t know.” Nina didn’t say anything for a minute, and then she started listing other things she didn’t want to talk about, like school, boys, and clothes.
    Ardis giggled. “And let’s not talk about presidential politics either.”
    I said, “Or least favorite vegetables.”
    They thought that was hysterical, and everybody started laughing, and I felt so