Wishing Day Read Online Free PDF Page A

Natasha didn’t disagree. Willow Hill seemed separate from the rest of the world, as if it had been lifted off the broader landscape and deposited gently on . . . oh, Natasha didn’t know. A cloud?
    Which was not to say that Willow Hill was old-fashioned. Most kids had cell phones (though Natasha wasn’t one of them). There was a movie theater and a fair number of good restaurants and a cute downtown shopping area with quirky boutiques.
    There wasn’t a lot of crime, and when there was, itconsisted of small-scale pranks like cow tipping. (Did cow tipping even count as a crime? Natasha didn’t know. She just felt bad for the cows.)
    Also, tech-savvy eighth graders constantly found ways to bypass the security controls of the school’s computer network. They flipped the school’s logo upside down on the homepage. They made the computers type the word “space” each time someone hit the space bar, so that “Life itself is the most wonderful fairy tale” became “Life space itself space . . . ,” and so on.
    Natasha herself had typed the sentence about life being a fairy tale, quoting Hans Christian Andersen in an essay for her English class. Her favorite part was when “fairy” turned into “space fairy.” The image of Tinker Bell twitching her fanny in a space suit made Natasha giggle.
    At any rate, most offenses were more aggravating than malicious. There wasn’t much malice in Willow Hill, period. In town, people smiled and called out to one another. If your bike got a flat, someone stopped to help you. If you were sick, someone brought you chicken noodle soup. If your mother disappeared into thin air . . .
    Well. That was different. If your mother disappearedinto thin air, people didn’t know what to do, so it was lucky—for everyone except Natasha and her family—that disappearing mothers weren’t the norm.
    Still, Willow Hill was safe most of the time, for most people. The mystery of what happened to Mama was the backdrop to Natasha’s life, but day by day, as January folded into February, more immediate concerns fought for her attention.
    Valentine’s Day, for example.
    Girls squealed when they found roses on their desks, or Hershey’s Kisses, or teddy bears. Boys turned gruff and embarrassed when notes on scented paper fluttered from their textbooks.
    Natasha steered clear of swoony cards and candy hearts that said BE MINE and CRAZY 4 U. She allowed herself to sneak peeks at Benton, but that was all.
    In the hall, she bit back a smile when he struck poses while holding a long-stemmed rose between his teeth. During passing period, she saw him get a drink at the water fountain. She liked the way he swiped the back of his hand across his mouth when he was done. In the computer lab, she watched him slap a high-five with his best friend, Stanley. She noticed how the sleeve of his shirt stretched tight around his biceps, and she blushed furiously when Molly caught her staring.
    â€œIf you want him to like you, you miiiight at some point consider talking to him,” Molly teased. “Or write him a letter! Duh! Write Benton a love letter, Natasha. Please please please?”
    â€œMolly, hush,” Natasha said.
    â€œAnd we could slip it into his locker. Wouldn’t that be fun?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œOkay, then try this: How about you hop up right now, run over to him, and pledge your undying affection?”
    â€œOr try this: How about you hop up and run over to him, and then keep running until you reach the football field?”
    â€œThe football field? What would I do at the football field?”
    â€œHmm. Sit alone and think about how not to embarrass your friend?”
    Molly tapped her lower lip, contemplating. Then she shook her head. “Nope, that’s no good. But here’s an idea: Just go over and tell him how hot he is!”
    â€œUgh,” Natasha groaned. “You know how much I