Going Wild (9 page)

“I
'm a—what?” Charlie said, and then she laughed in spite of her situation because the thought was so ridiculous. “No, I don't think so.”

“I'm serious,” Maria said, with mock sincerity. “You know what I mean—you're, like, what do you call it? Emerging. Just realizing your powers, like Peter Parker after he gets bitten but before he figures out he's Spider-Man.” She punched Charlie lightly in the arm. “I can't believe this is happening right here in our little town. Superheroes usually live in big cities. . . .” She trailed off, scratching her head. “Hey . . .
you're
from a big city.” She wagged her eyebrows. “See what I mean?”

“Maria, stop.”

Maria narrowed her eyes. “Okay.” She studied Charlie for a long moment, and then tilted her head in earnest. “Wait, though. The more I think about it . . . and you . . . and the strange things you're doing . . .” She paused, deep in thought. “Nooo,” she whispered. And then slowly she said, “But . . . seriously. Do you have any other explanation for the weird things that are happening?”

Charlie dropped her gaze and didn't answer.

“Have you always been able to run really fast?” Maria asked. “And heal overnight? And . . . and did
you
break the bathroom? I mean, look at you.” Her voice softened. “You can trust me.”

Charlie stared hard at the driveway. “I don't know what you mean.”

“Come on,” Maria said, putting her hand on Charlie's arm. “Were you born like this? Or did something, you know,
happen
to you? Is that why you moved here, because people were on to you? 'Cause you're kind of freaky.”

“No, that's not why we moved!” Charlie said, offended. But she knew by now there'd be no skirting around the issue or pretending it didn't exist. Maria had figured her out. Maybe she could help her decide what to do. Charlie sighed heavily. “Can you keep a secret?”

“Yes, of course.”

“It—this all just started the other day.” She sighed and glanced at the house. The car was in the driveway, and the light in her dad's den was on. “Come on. Let's take a walk.”

“Yeah, sure,” said Maria with a look of concern. “You okay, Charlie?”

“I . . . I'm not really sure, to be totally honest.”

The two girls walked down the driveway and turned onto the road. Charlie hesitated, thinking about what to say. Everything sounded so bizarre in her head—it was hard to explain. But she also knew Maria wasn't going to take some lame excuse for an answer.

Maria remained quiet, waiting for Charlie to begin.

Charlie blew out a breath and absently tried to comb through her now-dry hair with her fingers, but soon gave up. “Okay, well, this is going to sound extremely weird,” she said finally, “but I don't know what else it could be. I think the problem is this bracelet.” She pulled up her sleeve and held out her arm for Maria to see.

Maria gripped Charlie's arm and studied the bracelet but didn't touch it. “What about it? Is it radioactive? Did an alien give it to you?”

“Stop,” said Charlie, annoyed.

“I was being serious,” said Maria.

“No. It was a gift . . . I think,” Charlie said. “I thought it was one of those athletic bracelets that records heart rate, distance, speed—that kind of stuff. I put it on the other day for the first time, and nothing changed.” She hesitated, wondering about Thursday morning when she ran to her desk in first period and it skidded into the aisle—but she wasn't sure that was so out of the ordinary.

Charlie went on. “I felt pretty normal until soccer tryouts, I guess. I didn't really realize anything was happening. Not at first, anyway. I mean, I figured I was just having a good scrimmage, you know? I didn't really pay attention to how fast I was running because I was just playing the game. But looking back now I know you're right—that was crazy. And my leg . . .”

They approached a streetlamp, and Charlie stopped under it.
She pulled up her pant leg. “See?”

Maria gasped. “There's hardly anything there! That's insane. I saw it—I saw how bad it looked. I thought it was broken too.” She looked closer. “Are you sure that's the leg she kicked?” Immediately after asking, she apologized. “Of course you are. That was a dumb question.”

“It's okay. I doubted it too.” Charlie dropped her pant leg, and they resumed walking. “I don't understand it. And then today . . .” She buried her face in her hands, mortified by what she'd done to the bathroom. It was such an impossible thing that she didn't even know how to claim responsibility for it. No one would believe that a twelve-year-old girl could rip a sink from the wall. And it's not like it was her fault. She didn't try to wreck anything! It was the stupid bracelet.

She glanced at Maria. “Did Kelly say she thought I did that to the bathroom?”

Maria shook her head. “No, she just mentioned you'd left. I . . .” She flashed Charlie a guilty look. “Once she told me what was happening in the bathroom, I sort of asked her if you were still there, because, well, that's the first question that came to mind, I guess, after seeing the other weird stuff that you were doing. And when you came up the driveway all soaking wet . . . How the heck did it happen, anyway?”

Charlie recounted the after-school events, telling Maria how shocked she'd been at being able to hold the bed all by herself
when Kelly ran off to see that Hickory James boy. And she talked about how confused and angry she'd felt with all the weird stuff that was happening to her. “I never meant to break anything,” Charlie said. “You have to believe me. I felt like I was in a bathroom made of newspaper and toothpicks—that's how easy it was to wreck things.” She glanced sidelong at her new friend. “Look, I know you don't know me very well, but breaking up bathrooms is totally not my style.”

Maria put her arm around Charlie's shoulders as they walked. “Of course I believe you. If it helps, Kelly said the janitor was still on campus and got the water shut off right away, so at least there won't be any damage from that.”

“That's a relief.”

“But I don't get it—why don't you just take the bracelet off?”

“That's the problem,” Charlie said. “It's stuck on me! I tried to rip it off after the bathroom thing, and it's totally impossible. I don't know what happened. I've taken it off before a bunch of times.”

“Maybe it's jammed.” Maria looked at the bracelet again. “If I touch it, is it going to, like, do anything to me?”

“I don't think so.”

Gingerly, Maria examined the bracelet. “What's this pentagon-shaped symbol with the logo inside?”

“What are you talking about?”

Maria pointed. “Here.”

Charlie squinted at it, barely making it out in the darkness. “No idea.”

Maria shrugged and tried to undo the clasp. She yanked and tugged and even tried to bite it, but nothing happened. Then she tapped the screen. “What's the deal with this?”

“I don't know. There's never been anything on it. I haven't been able to get the buttons to work either. I think it just needs one of those little watch batteries. I was planning to buy one this weekend.”

“Hmm,” said Maria. When they passed under another streetlamp, she held up Charlie's wrist and pressed her cheek against Charlie's arm, trying to peer under the face of the bracelet. “It doesn't look like there's a place to put a battery.” Then Maria attempted to twist the bracelet around Charlie's wrist, but because of its oval shape, it couldn't rotate. “I doubt you'll be able to slip it off either.”

“I haven't tried with soap yet, but I don't think it'll budge . . . unless I slice off my thumb first.”

Maria cringed. “Ick.”

“I'm going to see if I can find something to cut it with.”

“Good luck,” Maria muttered. “This thing is solid metal. Don't do anything stupid that would cut your hand off.”

“That
would
solve the problem, though,” Charlie said.

Maria smiled and let go of Charlie's arm. “Yes, but then you'll probably have to sit out soccer for the season.”

“Not the way I heal,” Charlie said. “I'll be out a day, maybe two, tops.”

“That would be really funny if things weren't so awful.” Maria grew serious. “Are you going to tell your parents?”

Charlie was quiet for a long moment. “I don't know,” she said quietly. “They've got a lot going on right now. My mom's working all the time, and my dad's trying to figure out his new job. . . . They're a little too busy for me right now, I guess.” Charlie's face clouded, but then she added, “I don't want to bug them with this if I can figure it out myself.”

Maria squeezed Charlie's shoulder, faced her, and made a promise. “Whatever happens, Charlie, I'm here for you. I'll help you get through this.”

Charlie felt a wave of relief. She had never needed a friend as much as she did right now. It was exactly what she'd hoped to hear.

C
harlie felt a lot better after talking things through with Maria, and now she had the weekend to figure out what to do. She was glad she didn't have to worry about school stuff for a few days. But she had a lot bigger worries than homework.

She stopped by her dad's study after she cleaned up. Her father was typing intensely and didn't notice her standing there. “Dad?” she asked tentatively, not sure if she should be bothering him.

He stopped and looked up with a weary smile. “Hi.”

“Working hard on a Friday night, huh?”

“I'm trying to get ahead so next week isn't so hard,” he said, sitting back in the chair. “Turns out I've really got to brush up on my biology before I can teach it—Imagine that.” He chuckled. “It's been a long time since my days in the lab.”

“How old was I?”

“Just a baby.”

“Are you sad you left that job?”

“Not at all.”

Charlie dropped her gaze and said in a softer voice, “Did you just get tired of staying home or something?”

“No, I loved it.” Charlie's father was quiet for a moment. “I was very lucky to get to spend all that time with you and Andy when you were young, and to be there for you when you got home from school. But you don't need me as much anymore. And I think it was time for all of us to try something new.”

“I guess.” Charlie flashed a forlorn smile and traced her big toe along the wood floor in a pentagon shape. “I hope you relearn biology fast.”

“I'm trying, honey,” he said.

“When is Mom coming? Isn't she supposed to be home by now?” Charlie tried not to sound too whiny or impatient, but her mom was never on time. It was getting really annoying.

“She's running late. But I told Andy I'd stop working at eight so we can get the TV set up. He wants to watch that sea monster movie while we wait for her to come home. Want to join us?”

Charlie wrinkled her nose at Andy's idea of a fun Friday night. “Yuck. No, thanks. I've got stuff to do.”

“Next time you can pick the movie.”

“Thanks.” It wasn't much consolation. She went to her bedroom and closed the door, then got on the internet and searched “How to get a bracelet off.”

The number of results was absurd. Clearly this was a huge problem for a lot of people. Somehow that didn't make Charlie feel any better.

She clicked on the first link, a video, and watched as a woman
put a plastic vegetable bag from the grocery store over her hand and threaded it under her stuck bracelet, then slowly guided the bracelet to come off her hand.

Charlie paused the video and went to the kitchen. She rummaged around for a plastic bag.

“What are you doing?” called Andy, who was lying half upside down on the couch, playing his DS.

“Nothing,” she said, and ran back up to her room. She closed the door again and rewatched the video, trying to copy what the lady was doing. The bag threaded under her bracelet without too much trouble. But when it came to sliding the bracelet off, it wasn't happening. “Your hands are really small, lady, you know that?” said Charlie, frustrated. “Or mine are giant beefy ones.”

She set aside the bag and read another article, then went back to the kitchen to see if she could find liquid soap, ice, glass cleaner, and cooking oil. But no one had hooked up the ice maker yet, and there was no glass cleaner anywhere that Charlie could see. It was probably still packed. And instead of cooking oil, all she found was some oil and vinegar salad dressing in the fridge, left over from a take-out meal. She grabbed that along with a bottle of soap, hid it under her shirt, and ran back to the stairs.

“Now what are you doing?” asked Andy in a bored voice. He was still upside down on the couch, trying to pick up his water glass from the coffee table and drink from it without spilling.

“Nothing. Leave me alone,” said Charlie. She ran up the steps
to the bathroom that she shared with Andy and locked the door, then put the soap and salad dressing on the counter. She tried the soap first, lathering it generously over her wrist and hand and pushing some under the bracelet, letting the excess drip into the sink. Then she pulled on the bracelet with all her might, trying to slide the thing off. But it wouldn't go.

Where's my superstrength now?
she wondered. She rinsed off the soap, then opened the container of salad dressing. It stank. But it was oily. Breathing through her mouth, Charlie poured the concoction on her arm above and below the bracelet, then massaged it in. Little flecks of herbs and spices freckled her skin. She tried again to remove the bracelet.

Andy knocked on the bathroom door. “What are you doing?”

Charlie gasped and dropped the container on the counter, half of what remained spilling out. “Go away!”

“I'm sooo bored.” She heard a series of dull thuds, like the sound Andy's forehead might make thumping against the door.

Charlie picked up the salad dressing container and set it in the sink, then grabbed a wad of toilet paper to wipe up the counter. “Go bother Dad! I'm busy.” She cleaned up the spill, then looked at the toilet paper. What was she supposed to do with it now? Hastily she threw it in the toilet and flushed.

“Why does it stink like cheese and dirty socks?”

“Ugh, GO AWAY,” Charlie yelled again. “Why don't you call one of your new friends?”

“Oh, hey,” said Andy, “that's a good idea.” He left.

By now the bathroom sink was coated in salad dressing, and so was a good portion of Charlie and the bracelet. She strained to slide it off, but the more she tried, the redder and more painful her wrist became. At one point her hand slipped and she splattered salad dressing over the bathroom mirror.

“Good thing we don't have any glass cleaner,” she muttered. She looked at the bracelet, and then at her smelly, slimy self, and decided she'd had enough. The bracelet wasn't going to come off this way. The internet was flat-out wrong.

Charlie cleaned up the bathroom, smearing the dressing on the mirror using Andy's towel to get off the drips. She opened the window to air out the stink, then took a shower to clean off the rest of her and the bracelet. When she was done, she brought everything back to the kitchen, unnoticed by Andy, who was finally sitting with her dad watching that movie.

Back in her room, Charlie's mind returned to something she'd thought about while trying to get the bracelet off: What had happened to her amazing strength? It was gone.

She looked around her bedroom, wondering if she could test the bracelet somehow without anyone noticing. Her bed and desk had been hastily set up last weekend when they moved in. But everything else was still in the garage. Charlie had been wanting to move her bed to the other side of the room, but her parents were never around to help her. If the bracelet was working, Charlie
wouldn't need help. She closed her bedroom door and pushed the desk into a corner. And then she took a good grip on the foot of her bed and lifted as hard as she could.

It made a squeaky noise and moved about an inch. With a huff, Charlie set it back down. She tried again, and it barely budged.

“What the heck,” she muttered. Her strength had definitely stopped working.

Having to change her room around the old-fashioned way was much less appealing, so Charlie decided to skip that for now and test her speed instead, to see if that part worked.

“Going for a walk,” she called to her dad in the family room. “I'll stay in the neighborhood.” She slipped outside and began jogging just to see if anything had changed. When she didn't notice anything special, she sped up, then started sprinting. But her speed was its usual pace. Had she somehow turned off the bracelet? Or perhaps it needed to be recharged. But how?

Maybe everything was solved and life was back to normal. It was funny—a part of her was a little disappointed.

Charlie's phone vibrated with a group text from her mother.

“I'm on the way home!” it read. She'd sent it to her dad and Andy too.

“You were supposed to be home three hours ago,” said Charlie. She pushed her phone back into her pocket without answering. She'd let her dad and brother respond.

With her thoughts on her parents and Andy, Charlie slowed
to a walk. Tonight was supposed to be the first full evening that everyone was home since they'd moved. And obviously that hadn't happened—at least not yet. It definitely wouldn't happen often now with their mom's schedule. Or their dad's—apparently starting in the middle of the semester wasn't easy for him either. Almost overnight, life at home had become really different.

Andy was the lucky one. He'd had no trouble making friends in the neighborhood and at his new school, which kind of bugged Charlie because it came so easily for him. But even he had complained a few times about their parents being too busy—it was tough for both of them. And all of them were just trying to get through a long first week in Arizona.

As Charlie turned back toward home, she saw her mom walking up the street from the bus stop. Finally! Charlie quickened her step and followed her inside. Her annoyance with her mother melted a little now that she was actually here. Charlie hesitated, then snuck into the living room and squeezed onto the couch between her mom and the cats to watch the rest of the movie. Her mom kissed Charlie on her head and put her arm around her.

This was what it was supposed to be like. Charlie could worry about getting the bracelet off tomorrow. For now she was just happy that her family was together.