Chapter 1
The Spelling Test
“Beard,” said Mrs. Abour, “She has a beard. Beard.”
Pemberley Johnston laughed so loud that she snorted. Usually this got her into trouble, but luckily, Mrs. Abour’s class was in an uproar. They had been silently spelling words like “believe” and “bomb” and “bubble” for much too long.
“Alright,” said Mrs. Abour, “calm down children. He had a beard. That’s what I meant.” Nobody calmed down. Mrs. Abour laughed. “Okay, okay, that was the end of the test anyway. Just pass your answers to the middle of your rows.”
There was a shuffling of papers as Pemberley passed her paper to Ronnie who passed them to Annamaria who passed them to Hyde who passed them to Beverly, who looked at everyone’s answers. Pemberley didn’t like Beverly much. She was snooty and a know it all and just plain mean. In fact, Pemberley hoped they would never have to sit next to each other. But of course, whenever you wish that something will never happen, it happens all the faster.
“Okay you crazy kids,” Mrs. Abour said, “let’s turn our brainwaves to multiplication! We’ll have ten times the fun we did yesterday!”
So zero, then, thought Pememberly.
Chapter 2
Glue Globs and Wish Sticks
“Psst!” Ronnie whispered to Pemberley about five minutes later. She gladly turned her attention away from Mrs. Abour, who was now writing up the nine times table. She was a very fun teacher, but Pemberley would have hated math even if it were taught by the funniest clown in the world. In fact, she hated math even more than she hated broccoli (but probably less than she hated Brussels’ sprouts).
“Want to see something really fun?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she said. Ronnie pointed to the inside of his desk.
“Look!” He said, and moved aside some of his books. There was a glob of wet glue in the middle of his desk, about the size of a silver dollar.
“What is that for? Are you trying to glue your books to your desk?” Pemberley, who was already rather giggly, laughed some more.
“No!” He looked around. He wasn’t entirely sure that Mrs. Abour would like what he was doing. “It’s a bookmark.”
“That’s not a bookmark, stupid. Unless you wanted to glue the pages together… hey, that’s not a bad idea either. Then we wouldn’t have to do homework!” Thoughts of her father trying to pry open the covers of her math book, only to say, “Well, you’ll just have to give it up forever then, I suppose,” ran fantastically through her head. She smiled.
“No—it is a bookmark,” he said. “Or it’s a token or something. Or, it could even be a sticker. I’m starting a business.” He pushed his books back in front of the drying glue glob.
“What are you talking about?” She asked, keeping her voice down.
“If you let the glue dry, then you can peel them up and color them. It’s really cool!” Mrs. Abour glanced at them, and they were silent for a moment. The piercing eyes of Mrs. Abour could do that to you, even though they were behind horn rimmed glasses with sparkles on the side.
Chapter 3
Milky Ways and Math Days
When she called on Abby, who sat on the other side of the room, Pemberley asked, “Do you have one I can see?”
Ronnie nodded and pulled one out of his pant pocket. It was colored in with rainbow colors but had little black dots everywhere.
“Whoa—this is cool.” Pemberley said, rubbing her thumb against the smooth side. It reminded her of the smooth wishing stone her father had brought back for her from Montana. The stone had a white line that went around the middle of it, and whenever she touched it, she got to make a wish. “You should say they’re wishing bookmarks, and that when you rub one you get to make a wish.”
Ronnie smiled. “Hey, good idea!” He grabbed the bookmark back. “We could call them—“
“Pemberley!” Mrs. Abour called. Pemberley jumped.
“What?” She said, and the rest of the class laughed.
“I said, if I gave you three candy bars yesterday, and gave you nine times that many today, how many would I have given you today?” Pemberley thought. She thought that she hated math.
“What kind of candy is it?” She asked innocently, because she didn’t know the answer without counting on her fingers.
“Milky Ways, I suppose,” said Mrs. Abour.
“Oh. Then zero. I don’t like Milky Ways.” The class laughed again. All except Mrs. Abour, who sighed.
“Who knows what nine times three is?” She asked the class. “Beverly?”
“Nine times three is twenty seven,” Beverly recited. Her red curls bounced up and down, even though she was sitting still.
“Very good! Alright, now who knows nine times four…”
But Pemberley had stopped paying attention. She wished she could remember multiplication, but it never seemed to stick in her head for very long. Thoughts about books and tv shows and anything else kept getting in the way. She preferred making things up anyway.
She decided, while she was sitting there not listening to nine times eight, that they could call Ronnie’s new invention Wish Sticks. Of course, that would mean they would have to draw longer lines with the glue, so the bookmarks wouldn’t just be big circles. So they would actually look like bookmarks. (Leave it to a boy to make a circular bookmark.) They could even do different shapes. Pemberley wondered how difficult it would be to draw with glue.
Finally, after the class went through the sevens and eights, it was time for recess.
Before she had reached her cubby, though, she heard, “Pemberley, may I speak with you a moment?” Mrs. Abour had tapped her on the shoulder.
Chapter 4
Unwanted Help
Pemberley groaned, but turned around and stood in front of Mrs. Abour’s desk, as Mrs. Abour shuttled everyone out the door. She fidgeted with her jumper, and even considered sneaking out with everyone else. But Mrs. Abour was back before she gave it serious thought.
“Now what are we going to do with you?” Mrs. Abour asked, sitting down at her desk and folding her hands.
“Give me an A for effort?” Pemberley tried, and Mrs. Abour laughed.
“I would love to—only you don’t seem to be putting forth that much effort.”
Pemberley didn’t think this was quite fair. She had tried to remember math, but she just couldn’t. Besides, why would she memorize numbers when she could read a book? Or learn about volcanoes? Or make a chocolate ice cream sundae with M&Ms on top?
“So. Seeing as I don’t seem to be helping you, how would you like to have one of your friends help?” Mrs. Abour asked, her blue eyes twinkling.
“Yeah, okay!” Pemberley replied, thinking about all the play dates she could have with Cara, her best friend.
“Good—I’ve asked one of them already. Beverly!” Mrs. Abour called, and Pemberley’s stomach dropped. Oh no.
Beverly walked through the door, her red curls bouncing more than ever and her blue eyes laughing. And they weren’t laughing very nicely.
“Pemberley,” continued Mrs. Abour, as Pemberley stood speechless, “Beverly has agreed to help you two days a week during recess. Starting tomorrow.”
“Isn’t there anyone else? What about Cara? Or Hyde?” Pemberley asked. Surely she was dreaming.
“Pemberley, don’t be rude. And don’t disrupt my classroom again, you understand? The next time it happens I’ll have to call your parents.” Her eyes flashed and then sparkled as she pushed them out the door. “Besides, I think you two will have fun together.”
That is unlikely, thought Pemberley, and she secretly stuck her tongue out at Beverly’s smug face.
Chapter 5
The First Wish
Everyone knew, even before Pemberley reached the playground, that she needed math help from Beverly. Pemberley’s cheeks burned as she ran over to Cara, who was talking with Ronnie.
“Is Beverly really going to be your math teacher?” Cara asked immediately when Pemberley caught up with them. Pemberley scowled.
“So I’ve been thinking,” she said, ignoring Cara’s question. “How about if we call those book mark things Wish Sticks, and tell everyone that their wish will come true, but only when they finish reading the book.” She paused. “And you get a new wish every time you read another book.”
Cara stared at her, Beverly completely forgotten. “Pemmy, that’s brilliant!” She said. “We can sell them for twenty five cents.”
“Yeah,” Ronnie piped in. “Good idea.”
“What’s a good idea?” Beverly had walked up behind them. Beverly had perfect red curls and bright blue eyes. Sometimes on weekends, her mother even let her wear lipstick.
“Nothing.” Ronnie said, and closed his hand around the bookmark he had been holding out.
“Ronnie and Cara and me are starting a business,” Pemberley said, looking down at Beverly and crossing her arms. Beverly was also the shortest girl in the class. “We’re going to sell wishing bookmarks.”
Beverly snorted. “That is the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard.”
“No, no, they’re cool! Look—Ronnie, show her!” Ronnie held out his hand, though he wasn’t smiling, and Pemberley took the dried glue from him. “All you do is pour some glue in your desk and let it—“
“Ew, you pour glue in your desk? That’s disgusting!” Beverly said, and Pemberley wanted to punch her in the nose.
“Well, I think it’s fun,” Pemberley said, although she didn’t sound as confident.
“Whatever. You have fun with sticky-boy and glue-girl. And don’t forget to study—I don’t know if I can help someone as far behind as you are.” Beverly smiled her sweetest smile then, and walked away.
“Oh…” said Pemberley, “I wish she would fall on her face, the old bully.” And then, to everyone’s amazement, Beverly did fall, flat on her face. Beverly’s clothes had probably never been dirtier in her life. Pemberley gasped, and immediately stared at the Wish Stick she was holding. Had she made Beverly fall? She had just finished a book… She shivered.
Chapter 6
The Second Wish
Everyone on the playground laughed at Beverly, even her own friends. Pemberley would have felt bad for her, had Beverly not just told the whole school she was bad at math.
That night, Pemberley went home and read the shortest book she could find. Then she rubbed the bookmark three times. I wish I understood math, she thought, as hard as she could. Then, she sat there for a while, looking through her math book and trying to see if anything had changed. The numbers looked the same, but maybe if she just looked at them longer? She tried harder than ever to understand it, because she must get it now. She had wished it.
She wrote down all of the times tables, and repeated the sevens over and over until she could recite them with her eyes closed. “I used to hate six time eight but now I know it’s forty eight.” She said to herself happily. It didn’t take more than two hours for her to memorize the sevens and the eights and even had her mother teach her a shortcut for the nines. Her parents clapped their hands after she stood up at dinner and said all the multiplication facts she knew. She took a bow, and her parents let her have an extra scoop of ice cream for dessert.
She sat at the table a while longer, turning over the Wish Stick in her hand. She had rubbed it so much while she was memorizing that some of the black dots were coming off. And although her thumbs were turning multicolored, it was still as colorful as ever. She read another book before her parents came in to her it was time to go to sleep.
By the time she went to bed, Pemberley was convinced of the Wish Stick’s power.
Chapter 7
Bad Apples
The next day at school, Beverly was being especially nasty.
“Have you ever noticed,” she was saying to Hannah and Georgia when Pemberley walked in, “that saying Mrs. Abour is like saying ‘Miss is a bore?” Hannah and Georgia snickered.
“Oh my gosh! You’re right!” They said, stealing glances over at their teacher’s desk.
“Doesn’t it make sense though—she’s so boring. I learned everything she’s teaching us a long time ago.” Beverly twirled her hair.
“Don’t say that! Mrs. Abour is a lot of fun!” Pemberley said, after overhearing some of their conversation. Mrs. Arbour may have stuck her with Beverly, but she also let them raise chicks, and eat cake on someone’s birthday.
“Then why isn’t she called Mrs. Alotafun?” Beverly asked, and her friends snorted with laughter. Pemberley just rolled her eyes. “Oh, wait, Pemberley,” Beverly continued. “I almost forgot. Here.” She put something in Pemberley’s hand.
She had glued all of Pemberley’s pencils together.
“There you go, sticky girl,” she had said, and smirked. “Now you only have one big pencil, or can you count that far?” And then she and her friends laughed.
Unluckily, Mrs. Abour walked up right at that moment. “What’s going on?” She asked. Beverly jumped.
“Beverly, just--” started Pemberley, but Beverly interrupted.
“Pemberley and Ronnie pour glue in their desks!” She said.
“You do what?” Asked Mrs. Abour, turning to face Pemberley.
“Well, you see, if you put glue in there and let it dry and then make a wish…” But she stopped, because Mrs. Abour was shaking her head.
“Pemberley, you and Ronnie wipe off your desks and then go and see the Principal. I can’t believe you would vandalize school property.” Mrs. Abour said, as Beverly smirked behind her.
“Ha ha.” She mouthed. Pemberley almost shook with rage. It wasn’t fair! But she did as she was told. She didn’t want to give Beverly the satisfaction of telling on her, so she grabbed Ronnie and walked nobly out the door.
The principle made them explain what they’d done wrong, and then gave them each a note that was supposed to be signed by their parents. He didn’t seem too mad.
“That wasn’t so bad.” Said Ronnie, as they walked back down the hall together. “At least we didn’t get detention like the older kids.”
“Yeah,” Pemberley agreed, rubbing the bookmark she as always carrying now. “I just wish Beverly would be nicer to us.”
Ronnie put his arm around his friend. “Some kids are just bad apples,” he said, and Pemberley laughed.
Chapter 8
The Last Wish
Later that day, everything changed. While they were on their way to gym class, a fifth grader bumped into Beverly and pushed her down. “Out of the way, squirt!” he yelled as she fell to the floor for the second time in two days. No one helped her up. She looked like she was about to cry.
“Hey!” Pemberley yelled at the big kid. “You can’t just push people down cause they’re smaller than you, Gigantor. It’s just mean.” Now, this fifth grader did not look like he ever listened to anyone, so he just pushed her away too.
“Move it or lose it, pipsqueak,” he said. She ducked, but ended up tripping over her own two feet anyways.
Beverly, who had watched the whole thing, came over and helped her up.
“Thanks,” Beverly said, blushing a bit.
“Well,” said Pemberley, brushing herself off, “no one messes with third grade.” They both laughed. There was an awkward silence.
“I’m sorry I called your idea dumb and that I told on you,” Beverly finally said, looking at her feet. But Pemberley wasn’t going to let her off that easy.
“And?” asked Pemberley.
“And I’m sorry I told the whole class you were stupid.” She added, looking even more uncomfortable. Pemberley smiled.
“It’s okay,” Pemberley said, “I learned the times tables last night. I wished on the Wish Stick.” Then she explained how the bookmarks worked. Beverly was very impressed, and very sorry that they couldn’t make any more. It was one thing to do something you think is just a little bit wrong, and quite another to do something you know is wrong. Especially if a teacher tells you not to.
Beverly and Pemberley were never best friends, but from that moment on, they liked each other. Beverly was never purposefully mean to her, or anyone else, ever again.
As for the Wish Stick, Pemberley gave it back to Ronnie, and it held his place books for many years to come.
