The Challenge Box Read online

  It was a little harder to maintain that feeling of confidence when she walked into Ms. Ableman’s classroom the next period. Ever since the incident with Sherrie, Ms. Ableman had regarded Kate with a distinctly suspicious attitude. Where before she had always said hello to Kate, now she simply nodded when Kate entered the room. Kate took her seat and pretended to be looking through her textbook—anything to keep her gaze away from her teacher. She hated having people think badly of her, and she knew Ms. Ableman had most definitely put Kate into the troublemaker category. Kate wished there was some way she could make up for what she’d done—particularly where her grade was concerned.

  The bell rang and Ms. Ableman shut the classroom door. She stood behind her desk, a stack of papers in her hand. Looking at them, Kate could tell they were the lab project reports that everyone had handed in the week before—everyone, that is, except for her and Sherrie. She glanced over at Sherrie and saw that she was completely focused on examining her cuticles. For the first time since their friendship ended, Kate felt like she and Sherrie were on the same wavelength.

  “I’ve read all of your reports,” Ms. Ableman said. “Some of them were very good.”

  There was a collective sigh from the students surrounding Kate. They all knew that their lab reports were a crucial part of their grades, and she knew that a lot of people had been afraid of failing. Now Kate saw relieved smiles on many faces.

  “And many of them weren’t good,” Ms. Ableman continued.

  A lot of the smiles faded, and Kate noticed an air of tension settling over the class again. She knew everyone was wondering who the unlucky ones were. At least I don’t have to wonder, she thought, without any sense of relief.

  “As you’re all aware, the testing portion of your grade counts for one half, the other half being based on participation and lab assignments. A failing grade on this lab report means trouble for some of you.” She looked pointedly at Kate when she said this, making Kate blush with shame.

  “Because of this, I’ve decided that those of you who failed this assignment may do a makeup experiment.”

  Once again a sigh of relief rose up from the students. Some actually threw their hands in the air in thanks, while others closed their eyes in silent thank-yous. Kate wanted to join them, but she wasn’t sure that she was included in the group who would be allowed to do a makeup project. After all, she’d gotten a failing grade not because she hadn’t done the experiment properly, but because she’d turned the lab into a mud wrestling arena for her battle with Sherrie. Would Ms. Ableman relent and let her do another experiment?

  “All of you who received failing grades may do another experiment,” the teacher said, looking at Kate and then at Sherrie meaningfully. “However, there is one condition.”

  Whatever it is, it’s fine with me, Kate thought as happiness flooded through her. Her day was getting better and better. First she’d discovered what was probably the clue to figuring out her challenge. Now she was being given a chance to bring her grade in science back up. Clearly, things were going her way.

  “You will be given a different experiment to perform,” continued Ms. Ableman.

  No biggie, Kate thought. She could handle another experiment. She could have handled the first one if Sherrie hadn’t screwed it up.

  “And you will work with the same partner you worked with last time,” finished Ms. Ableman. She looked at Kate, and Kate was certain that she saw a smile of triumph on her teacher’s face.

  How could she? she thought. How could she make me work with Sherrie again? Especially after what happened? Surely the teacher had to be kidding. There was no way she could make Kate team up with Sherrie again. No way. She looked at Ms. Ableman in horror, but the teacher simply looked away.

  “Those of you who wish to do the makeup project can see me after class,” she said as she began handing back the papers. “If you don’t wish to take it, that’s your choice. You can accept your failing grade and hope that by some miracle you receive nothing but As on the remaining ones.”

  Kate glanced over at Sherrie just in time to see Sherrie turn away. She was looking at me, too, Kate thought. She knew that Sherrie had to be just as horrified at the prospect of teaming up again as Kate was. Maybe even more, since Kate had won their battle. What would happen if one of them said no to the offer? Would Ms. Ableman assign the remaining girl a new partner, or would the whole deal be off? Kate was worried; it would be just like Sherrie to say she wouldn’t do it, just to get even. But Sherrie couldn’t afford to fail the class, either, not if she wanted to stay on the cheerleading squad. And being on the squad was the most important thing in Sherrie’s life. Except for making other people miserable, thought Kate.

  Class seemed to drag on and on. Finally it ended, and Kate hung back as other people left. She wasn’t alone. At least a dozen people were milling around Ms. Ableman’s desk, sheepish looks on their faces. Kate noticed, with a strange sense of relief, that Sherrie was among them, although she didn’t make a move to come over and talk to Kate.

  Kate let everyone else go ahead of her, until finally just she and Sherrie remained. The two of them stood as far away from each other as they could and waited for Ms. Ableman to say something.

  The teacher looked from one to the other.

  “I hope the two of you know how lucky you are,” she said. “I wasn’t going to let you do a makeup project. But I decided to give you a chance. One chance,” she added, with emphasis. “If anything happens like what happened the last time, both of you fail. And not just this test, the whole class.”

  Kate felt a knot forming in her stomach. But all she did was nod. Sherrie did the same.

  “Okay,” Ms. Ableman said, handing them each several sheets of paper stapled together. “Here’s your new assignment. Note that it does not involve dirt. You have three weeks.”

  Kate looked at the handout. The experiment they’d been assigned seemed pretty easy. But there was still Sherrie to think about. Could Kate really work with her after what had happened? You have to, she told herself.

  Kate nodded her thanks at Ms. Ableman and left the room. Sherrie followed her. Only when they were both in the hallway did they look at one another.

  “I’m only doing this because I have to,” Sherrie said coldly.

  “No kidding,” replied Kate. “Let’s just do it and get it over with.”

  “Fine,” Sherrie said.

  “Fine,” said Kate.

  The two of them glared at each other and then turned and walked in opposite directions. They hadn’t even made any plans for divvying up the work, but Kate didn’t care. They could worry about it later. The important thing was that—awful as the prospect of having to talk to Sherrie again was—she’d been given a second chance.

  By the time ninth period rolled around, she’d calmed down about the Sherrie thing. She would just have to grin and bear it. At least she had New Orleans to look forward to. A week away from Beecher Falls was just what she needed. She would come back rested and ready to take on Sherrie and the experiment.

  But first she needed to get started on her challenge. She headed for the library, where she went right for the folklore and fairy tale books. She didn’t really know where to begin, so she decided to get one of everything. She grabbed a complete volume of the Brothers Grimm, something called Hero Quests and Journeys, a book on gods and goddesses from around the world, and individual collections of Norse, Greek, American Indian, and Russian folk tales. This is a good start, she thought, knowing that it was about as much as she could carry in her backpack.

  She took the books to the circulation desk and checked them out. Then she sat at a table and began skimming through the various volumes, looking for clues. The stories were fascinating, and she found herself becoming involved in one about a boy who found a sailing ship that could fold up and fit in his pocket. Before she realized how much time had gone by, the bell rang and it was time to go home. Gathering up her books, she left the library and went to her lo
cker for her coat.

  Kate was looking forward to getting home. She had very little homework to do, and she was anxious to spend more time with the books she’d checked out. Even the idea of working with Sherrie on their makeup experiment didn’t seem quite as terrible as it had earlier, and she was feeling good about her life.

  When she reached her house she headed immediately for the kitchen. She could smell cookies baking, and the scent of vanilla and cinnamon drew her into the room, where she found her mother sliding cookies from a baking sheet to cooling trays with a spatula.

  “Hey,” Kate said, reaching for a cookie. “These smell great.”

  Her mother smiled tightly at her, causing Kate to pause.

  “What?” she said. “Did something happen?”

  Her mother turned and picked up something from the counter, which she held up. It was a white envelope. “This came today,” she said.

  Kate took the proffered envelope and looked at it. It was from her school. Immediately she knew what it was—her grades.

  “I can explain,” Kate said. “See . . .”

  “I know what happened, Kate,” Mrs. Morgan said. “I spoke to your teacher this afternoon. She explained everything. I convinced her to let you do a makeup project.”

  So that’s why she gave in, Kate thought. The very idea that her mother had asked her teacher to give her another chance made her sick to her stomach. Especially since her mother hadn’t known anything about the fight with Sherrie.

  “I wanted to tell you,” Kate said helplessly.

  “But you didn’t,” said Mrs. Morgan.

  Kate looked down at the floor. “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “I’m sure you are,” her mother replied. “But that doesn’t change the fact that you didn’t tell us what was going on.”

  “Does Dad know?” asked Kate.

  Her mother nodded, and the sick feeling in Kate’s stomach doubled. She knew that her father would be even more upset than her mother was. Why didn’t I tell them? she asked herself. It would have been difficult, but not as difficult as this was.

  “Your father doesn’t think you should go to New Orleans,” said her mother.

  Kate’s head jerked up. “What?” she said, not believing what she was hearing.

  “He thinks you should stay here and work on your makeup project,” her mother continued.

  “But I have three weeks to do that!” protested Kate. “We’re only going to New Orleans for a week. I have to go! I’ve been looking forward to this.”

  Her mother leaned against the counter. “I know you have,” she said. “I know you want to go with your friends. But I agree with your father on this one, Kate. I think you should stay here.”

  Kate’s mouth hung open. She was speechless. She couldn’t even say anything in her defense. It was as if she were in the middle of a bad dream—the worst dream imaginable—and couldn’t wake up. All she could do was stare at her mother, tears forming in her eyes. She wasn’t going to New Orleans.

  CHAPTER 3

  “What do you mean you’re not going?” Cooper stared at Kate in disbelief.

  “I’m not going,” repeated Kate. “My parents said no.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” said Annie. “Please tell us you’re kidding.”

  Kate groaned. “Would I kid about something like this?” she asked. “They said no way.”

  She leaned against the wall by Cooper’s locker, where they had all met up on Thursday morning. All the way to school she’d been trying to figure out how to break the bad news. Finally she’d just blurted it out. Now that she’d done it, she felt like crying. It was like telling her friends made it official or something, and she had to accept the fact that while they were living it up in New Orleans, she was going to be in snowy, cold Beecher Falls doing a makeup experiment with the one person on Earth she would rather die than have to work with.

  Cooper and Annie weren’t saying anything, which made it worse. Kate had been hoping they would make her feel better somehow. But there really wasn’t anything they could say that would help. It was her own fault that she wasn’t going to be getting on a plane with them on Friday afternoon, her fault and nobody else’s.

  Cooper shook her head. “This really bites,” she said. She looked at Kate. “It really bites.”

  “You don’t have to tell me,” Kate responded. “I’m the one who’s getting bitten, remember? I just wish that letter had waited a few more days.”

  “I know this probably won’t help,” Annie said, “but maybe there’s a reason you need to be here. I mean, maybe this happened for a reason.”

  “Yeah,” Kate said. “It happened because I had to go and get all WWF on Sherrie.”

  “That’s not what I mean,” Annie said. “I mean maybe this is part of your challenge.”

  Kate and Cooper looked at her with doubtful expressions.

  “What?” Annie said. “It could be. Look at all the other stuff that’s happened to us that looked bad when it happened but turned out to be something good.”

  “Sherrie could never be something good,” commented Kate, and Cooper nodded in agreement.

  “I’m with Kate on that one,” said Cooper. “This just blows, plain and simple.”

  The first bell rang. “Well, we’ll have to talk about it later,” Annie said as they prepared to go to class. “And don’t forget—tonight is Sasha’s birthday dinner.”

  They split up and went to their respective classes, Kate to English, Annie to Spanish, and Cooper to math. Cooper walked into Mr. Niemark’s room and took her seat. Just as Kate had done the day before, Cooper spent more time scribbling in her notebook than she did listening to Mr. Niemark’s lecture. But in Cooper’s case, she was busily writing lyrics, not making lists. She and Jane—who together made up the band the Bitter Pills—were working on a bunch of new material. Ever since Jane had come out as a lesbian, she’d been in this phenomenal creative period, churning out song after song. Cooper, who couldn’t help but feel a little competitive, was having a hard time keeping up. Maybe I should become a lesbian, too, she thought, laughing to herself.

  As she wrote, she thought about Kate. It really was too bad that Kate wasn’t going to be coming to New Orleans with her and Annie. Cooper had really been looking forward to spending some time with her friends away from home. The two other times they’d gone away together—once camping in the woods at Midsummer and then on a retreat at Yule—they’d wound up in some strange adventures. It would be nice just to have a regular vacation.

  Besides, Annie was primarily going to New Orleans to see her sister. They would probably want to spend some time together by themselves. That left Cooper all by herself. With Kate along, she would have had someone to explore the city with. Now she was going to be on her own. Normally that would be fine with her, but she’d gotten so used to thinking that she would be doing things with other people that now she felt a little bit lost imagining doing them on her own.

  Then there was her challenge. She had managed to put that out of her mind. Now it was back, and she realized that one of the reasons she’d been looking forward to being in New Orleans with her friends was because she was worried about her challenge. She hadn’t let on to anyone that she was concerned about it, but the truth was that she was more than a little apprehensive about getting started on it.

  She looked down at her notebook and realized that she’d stopped writing lyrics and instead was writing her challenge over and over. “Face the thing you fear the most,” was written repeatedly over five lines of the page. She was in the middle of writing it again, with “Face the thing” being the last words she’d written. Now she lifted her pen from the page and just stared at the words. “Face the thing you fear the most.” When she’d seen those words on her slip of paper on Tuesday night, she’d felt lucky. Facing a fear seemed very concrete, something she could visualize and push her way through. She had always been pretty good at facing things she was afraid of, and she’d felt confident tha
t this time would be no different.

  But the more she thought about it, the harder she realized her challenge was. First of all, she had to figure out what it was she was most afraid of. Her initial thought had been sharks. Silly as it seemed, she was terrified of sharks. Ever since she’d seen Jaws on TV when she was six, she’d been afraid of the big fish, not really because of their killing power but because she hated the idea that there were things swimming around under the water that she couldn’t see. Little fish and things like turtles and lobsters and other sea creatures didn’t bother her at all. But the idea that something as big as a shark could be swimming around underneath her, ready to pop its ugly head up at any moment, freaked her out. She rarely ventured into the ocean ever since, and then for very short periods of time.

  She doubted, though, that her challenge had anything to do with great whites or makos. Magic was usually more subtle than that. And that’s what bothered her. Only once had she really been afraid of her involvement in Wicca—during the ritual they’d attended for the Summer Solstice. That was when she’d been essentially kidnapped and terrorized by a group of kids claiming to be faeries. They’d led Cooper on a strange chase through the woods, a chase where she’d been forced to play the part of the hunted animal. It had unnerved her, coming that close to such wild, untamed magic, and she’d temporarily left the group because she hadn’t been able to handle her emotions about what had happened to her.

  She’d come back to Wicca eventually, but the memories of that night still lingered in her mind. She feared that perhaps her challenge had something to do with that night in the woods and what happened afterward. But hadn’t she already faced that fear? Wasn’t it behind her? She’d certainly believed that it was. But she couldn’t imagine what else she might still be afraid of. Except the sharks. They were still around.

  She sighed. Sometimes magic was really frustrating. It didn’t always behave by the rules, at least not by any rules she could figure out. Of course, that’s also what she loved about it. She herself didn’t always play by the rules. In fact, she almost never played by the rules. That had been her attraction to witchcraft in the first place. Having studied magic for almost a year now—and having experienced its often-fickle nature—she understood a little better why sometimes the people in her life found her difficult to understand. She just wished she understood her challenge a little bit better. She was willing to face her fear, at least she thought she was. But first she had to figure out what it was.