Chapter 10: Guess Who

Everyone seemed to think it should be so obvious to me who Madison's crush was, so it had to be my (former) best friend Mikey. Which meant I had to fix Mikey up with Madison even though Mikey and I were no longer on speaking terms and I had to try really hard just to live through the day in my cursed condition.

I had an idea. I knew Mikey had a crush on Chelsea, but Madison was actually way prettier and more likable, so if I fixed them up, it would be like he had an upgrade.

I tried to imitate Madison's feminine script as I wrote the letter. Or I could really press my luck and steal her phone to text Mikey… No, the letter was probably better.

Stupid curse. My pen ripped through the first two pieces of paper. My hand cramped on the third attempt. But I kept going:

Hey Mikey,

I know we don't know each other that well but I've been thinking a lot about you lately. Meet me at my locker after school.

-Madison

I made two copies because I knew I'd lose the first one, and I was right. The wind caught it and it blew away through an open window. I placed the copy in Mikey's locker.

It took forever for the day to end. I couldn't wait for these antics to be over. Super strong static electricity on a door handle I touched. A puddle I sat in for no reason. My homework sinking to the bottom of my backpack and molding overnight.

Mikey did show up at Madison's locker, and he looked nervous. I stood just within earshot, my face hidden.

“Hey Madison,” Mikey said, “I got your note. I'm really flattered, but I like someone else.”

“What note?” Madison asked.

“The one in my locker,” he said.

I could see Madison's eyes scanning for me. I tried to run, but in my current condition I fell right at her feet.”

“Mikey,” I said, “Think about it. Madison is better than Chelsea in just about every way possible. Why take the Ford when you can take the Ferrari?" I knew it was a stupid thing to say as soon as I said it, but I was desperate for this to work. Apparently the curse was even affecting my ability to string together a persuasive argument.

I should have known that girls don’t like being compared to cars, but from the angry look on Madison’s face, I was starting to get it.

“I like the Ford,” Mikey said quietly.

“Wait, you like Chelsea?” Madison asked. I expected her to look heartbroken. If she was acting at being happy, she was pretty good at it.

He looked at me. “You're dead,” he said, and I gulped.

“Wait, she likes you too,” Madison said, “You should go out.”

“Really?” he asked. He looked around and smoothed his hair as if Chelsea was going to walk by at any minute.

Now I was really confused. Didn't Madison like Mikey?

“I don't understand,” I told Madison, “Aren’t you upset that your crush likes your best friend?”

She just looked at me for a second, then said, “You really are the dumbest person on Earth, you know that?” It certainly felt like it at that moment.

“Just tell me who you like,” I told her, “I'll bring him to you.”

“I don't think he's interested,” she said.

“Is he single?” I asked.

“Well, yes,” she said.

“Then I will find a way. Just tell me his name. Is he in our grade?”

She nodded.

I pulled out a yearbook from last year that I had brought to school for just this occasion. I had accidentally torn the cover off at some point, but it would still work for my purposes. I had it narrowed down to 25 guys, but I needed more info.

“Hair color,” I said.

“He has dark hair,” she said. She was purposely being vague in her answers. She wouldn’t give me a name, and she wouldn’t tell me if his hair was brown or black.

Still, crossing off everyone with blonde, red or brightly-dyed hair narrowed it down to 10. Madison and Mikey were both looking at me like I was unhinged as I drew large Xs in marker over several faces in my own yearbook.

“Eye color,” I said.

“No more questions,” she said.

“Then just tell me!” I said.

But then I realized, I just needed to find out who didn’t go to the dance. That would tell me who stood up Madison. I didn’t know because I wasn’t there either. But I knew who would remember.

I made a list of my ten suspects. Then I took it to Troy, the class president. I promptly dropped the list and lost it, but I just made another copy.

“Troy,” I said. He looked at me as if surprised that I had the nerve to speak to him. He kept walking.

“Troy,” I need to know, “Which of these guys were at the school dance?” I pointed at my list.

“Why?” he asked.

I wasn’t good at lying. “Someone stood up Madison and I’m trying to find out who.”

“Why don’t you just ask her?”

“She hates me.”

He glanced at the list. “All of these guys were there, except for Terrell. And you.”

“I owe you one,” I told him, and ran off, crashing into a library cart in my haste. Books flew everywhere and somehow I got three papercuts in the process. I couldn’t wait to just be done with this curse.

Chapter 11: Matchmaker

“So you’re telling me that I should date Madison? Why?” Terrell looked at me suspiciously.

“She really likes you and I think I screwed things up somehow.” There it was. The truth.

“I’ll think about it,” he said, “Who’s Madison again?”

“Please do,” I said, “She’s right there.” I pointed at her. “Look how pretty she is.”

“If you think she’s so pretty, why don’t you date her?”

“She likes you. And she hates me. A lot.”

“So why are you helping her?”

I’m bad at lying so I just told him the truth about the curse.

“You’re a funny guy,” he said. I could tell he had already dismissed me in his mind. He clearly didn’t believe that I was actually cursed.

“I’m not trying to be funny. It’s the truth!” I said.

“Yeah, sure,” he said, walking away. And just like that, my last option had refused.

But I was not about to give up.