Bubble World Page 3

  An enormous three-way mirror dominated the room’s back wall. From her pile of dresses, Freesia chose a short, sleeveless hot-pink number and hung it on a hook next to the mirror. Then she took her bubble out of her bag. The warmth of her hands turned the bubble green. She pointed the bubble at the dress and then the mirror. The mirror flashed as if a camera bulb had gone off and then showed Freesia in the hot pink dress.

  Jelissa handed Freesia the pink mocktini. Freesia sipped it. So did the Freesia in the mirror. Freesia turned to the left, and then to the right. So did the girl in the mirror.

  “Too short?” she asked Jelissa.

  Jelissa shrugged. “The dress fits you well, but then, everything does. I think you can find something a little more vicious.”

  Freesia put down her drink and chose another dress to hang on the hook. Once again, she pointed her bubble toward the dress and then at the mirror, until a projection of her appeared. She did this several more times until she made her final selection, a shell-pink tea dress with a tulle skirt and rosettes around the collar.

  “Now that’s vicious,” Jelissa said.

  Satisfied, Freesia settled down with a second mocktini (which tasted of watermelon), while Jelissa hung her own dresses next to the mirror, considering a couple of green taffeta gowns before settling on a cherry-patterned dress with netting underlay.

  “Cabo will like that one,” Freesia teased her.

  Jelissa tossed her gorgeous red hair. “I don’t dress for Cabo. I dress for myself.”

  “Smart girl.”

  “Besides, we’re just friendlies.” She blushed.

  “Mm-hm,” Freesia said.

  When they left the dressing room, the salesgirls were once again fiddling with the round racks.

  “Can we help you?” one asked.

  Freesia held up her pink dress. “We’re ready to check out.”

  “But of course!” The salesgirl crossed the store to a tall silver counter. Only now did Freesia check the price tag: ninety shells. Ouch. The hot pink dress had been half that.

  “It’s awfully expensive,” she said to Jelissa. “And I still need to get shoes. And jewelry. Plus I’ll want to bring in a stylist—”

  “It makes you look like a fairy ballerina,” Jelissa said.

  “But shoes—”

  “You can wear an old pair of shoes. Or borrow some of mine. The dress is perfect. You have to have it.”

  “You’re right.” Freesia placed the dress on the counter, reached into her bag for her bubble, and—

  Everything went black.

  And silent.

  Another power outage. Third time this week. But why would it be dark in the store when the front window opened up to the daylight?

  Freesia was this close to flipping out when the lights came back up. She stood in the middle of the store, still holding the pink dress. But … hadn’t she placed it on the counter already?

  “It makes you look like a fairy ballerina,” Jelissa said.

  “But…” Freesia blinked at her friend.

  “You can wear an old pair of shoes,” Jelissa said. “Or borrow some of mine. The dress is perfect. You have to have it.”

  “You just said that,” Freesia said.

  “Because it’s true.”

  “Oh. Right. Of course.”

  Freesia crossed to the counter, where the salesgirl waited, smiling. Hands trembling, she placed the dress on the counter.

  “You get a lot of power outages?” Freesia asked.

  The salesgirl smiled. “All the time. I hardly even notice them anymore.”

  She rang up the dress. Freesia handed over her bubble, no longer caring how much she spent.

  Out on the street, she said, “I don’t mean to get flippy, but didn’t you think that blackout was a little … off?”

  “What do you mean?” Jelissa said.

  “You did notice the blackout, didn’t you?”

  “Of course. But you got me thinking about Cabo, and…” Jelissa laughed. “Let’s buy shoes!”

  “Of course,” Freesia said.

  Just as they turned to stroll to the shoe store beyond the dress shop, Taser Lucas came out of the explosives retailer. His streaky light brown hair needed a cut, and his sunburned face needed a shave. Or not. Taser knew how to work the rugged look. He always looked like he had just come back from adventuring through the island’s interior.

  Frozen on the sidewalk, they stared at each other.

  Jelissa wiggled her fingers to break the spell. “Hi, Taser. What’ve you been up to?”

  He blinked at her. “I, um, just got back from adventuring through the island’s interior.”

  Jelissa nodded. “Sounds … sweaty.”

  Taser went back to staring at Freesia, his mouth twitching as if he had something to say.

  Jelissa pointed to the pale green shoe shop next door. “’Kay, Free. I’ll be in there.”

  “’Kay,” Freesia said. She looked at Jelissa, then back at Taser, then at the ground. “This is a hundred kinds of awk.”

  “Did you see the blackout just now?” he blurted.

  Freesia stiffened—and then laughed with relief. “Yeah. This may sound crazy, but for a minute there, I thought I’d imagined it.”

  “Because everyone else acted like nothing else had happened?”

  “Yes.” She felt somewhat less relieved.

  “Sit with me.” Without waiting for her to say yes, he crossed the cobblestones and sat on a green bench facing the harbor. She followed, of course, not because she wanted to talk to him, necessarily, but because she looked forward to repeating the conversation to Jelissa.

  Farther down the sand, a steel drum band played island tunes. On the beach in front of them, some children, nine or ten years old, dug holes and splashed at the water’s edge. Two boys and a girl crafted a sand sculpture: a dolphin, or maybe a shark.

  Freesia hummed along to the band and waited for Taser to say whatever it was that he found more important than shopping for shoes.

  The best he could do was this: “Do you ever wonder if … maybe you’re the only one who’s real? Like the world around you is all make-believe?”

  Had this been three months ago, while their linkage was unraveling, she would have felt compelled to comment on his egomania. Instead, she kept her answer short.

  “No.”

  He scratched his scruffy chin. “I thought everyone thought that sometimes.”

  Freesia inhaled. She exhaled. She counted to four before speaking. She might have counted to ten, but she could be shopping right now, and she wasn’t willing to waste six seconds.

  “Taser. If that were true, then I wouldn’t be real. So why would you care what I thought?”

  “Excellent point.” He smiled. Taser had a nice smile—she had to give him that much. It made his eyes crinkle and his cheeks dimple. And then he stopped smiling.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  He stopped smiling. “Upgrades have been run on all my favorite zap war games. Flaming Trenches. Navy Squadron. Even Nuclear Assault: Canada.”

  “And that’s a problem?”

  “Yes! No. Sort of. I was playing Canadian Nukes yesterday, and for the first time ever in a game, I was scared. The mushroom cloud, the Mounties … it was intense. For the first time ever, it all seemed completely real! I felt the heat of the explosion, smelled the sweat of the horses—”

  “Of course it felt real. It’s supposed to. That’s how you know you’re getting your shells’ worth.” Not bothering to hide her exasperation, Freesia crossed her arms and looked at the kids making the sand sculpture. It was a dolphin. Definitely.

  “But if that wasn’t real, then how do we know that this—” He gestured at the beach, the children, the steel drum band. “How do we know that all this isn’t imaginary, too?”

  She said, “Maybe you should take a break from zap wars.”

  A chirping sound came from Freesia’s bag. She pulled out her glowing bubble and tapped it tw
ice to read Jelissa’s message: YOU NEED TO HELP ME MAKE A VERY IMPORTANT SHOE DECISION!!! (NOT REALLY BUT YOU CAN TELL HIM THAT.)

  Freesia stood up. “I can see why you’re distressed. But I’ve got to go help Jelissa pick out shoes. Taser, you should refresh your life. Drink some happy juice, lie on the beach … and stay out of the explosives shop.”

  “In the shoe shop.” Jelissa held up a white platform sandal with ankle-tie ribbons. “How’s Taser?”

  “Paranoid and delusional.”

  “So—same as always.” Jelissa put down the sandal and picked up a tall red pump.

  “Some things never change,” Freesia said. “Except…”

  “What?”

  “Haven’t things on the island seemed a little flippy lately? I mean, all the power outages. And people leaving without saying good-bye.”

  Jelissa shrugged. “Stuff like that has always happened. It’s no big deal.”

  “You’re right.” Freesia sighed with relief. She wasn’t very observant. That’s why she hadn’t noticed life’s out-of-whackness until now. She remembered the ugly girl she’d seen in her closet mirror this morning. Nothing like that had ever happened before, but—

  Jelissa held up the two shoes. “White or red?”

  “Red,” Freesia said. “Definitely.”

  4

  An hour later, they were back at Agalinas Learning World. Mr. Coda, the music teacher, wearing his usual round wire glasses and tropical print shirt, stood outside the door of the yellow music building, which had curved walls and a dome-shaped ceiling for optimal acoustics. Mr. Coda taught voice, instruments, and music appreciation.

  “Welcome to music class!” he greeted Freesia and Jelissa. “Today we will be studying the music of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.”

  “Know what would be really vicious?” Freesia said. “Listening to Chase Bennett tunes instead.”

  “And maybe doing some karaoke,” Jelissa added.

  Mr. Coda clapped his hands. “Chase Bennett and karaoke it is! Refreshments are on the patio.”

  Freesia and Jelissa got lime sippers and sat at a shady outside table to listen to the advanced music students. Purple butterflies, known as ballad flies due to their note-shaped wings, danced in the air, while harmonizing hummingbirds hovered around a potted pink bush.

  One student, soaked with sweat, pounded an enormous drum set. Others strummed ukuleles, slammed electric guitars, blew into trumpets, or sawed electric violas. Individually, each sounded magical, their endless hours of practice evident in every note. Jumbled together, they produced a chaotic cacophony that hurt the girls’ ears.

  “Inside?” Freesia asked.

  “Please.” Jelissa tossed back the remainder of her lime sipper, and they scurried into the building.

  Inside, on the round center stage, a string quartet performed something boring but inoffensive, probably by that Mozart guy Mr. Coda had mentioned. Along the curved outer walls, interactive music stations offered virtual guitar, virtual drums, virtual piano, virtual conductor, and a virtual polka band. There was always a line for the virtual polka band.

  “Too bad they don’t have a virtual Chase Bennett,” Freesia said.

  “Forget virtual. I’d like to see the real thing!”

  When Mr. Coda entered the room, the students arranged themselves in chairs around the center stage. Cabo was in this class, along with Ferdinand, another friendly. Both boys were of average height, with powerful shoulders and square chins. They looked so much alike that they could pass for brothers if not for their opposite coloring. Cabo had black hair, black eyes, and cappuccino-colored skin, while Ferdinand was white blond and fair.

  Jelissa slipped into the chair next to Cabo. Freesia pinched her friend’s arm. Jelissa swatted her away and held in a giggle.

  Onstage, the string quartet, two women in long black dresses and two men in tuxedos, finished their performance, stood up, and bowed.

  “So now you know about Mozart,” Mr. Coda said as the quartet walked offstage.

  The students nodded.

  “Let’s move on to Chase Bennett. How many of you did your homework?”

  Hands shot up. Homework was never mandatory, but everyone was happy to do fun assignments. This week, they’d been asked to listen to at least three Chase Bennett songs.

  “Extra credit?”

  About half the students, Freesia and Jelissa included, raised their hands to indicate that they had found Ten Interesting Things About Chase Bennett.

  “Excellent! Let’s see what you learned. Starting with … you.” Mr. Coda pointed to a girl in the second row.

  She stood up. “Chase Bennett was born in Texas but moved to Hawaii when he was six months old.”

  “Correct! Someone else?”

  “When Chase Bennett was five years old, his mother bubblecast him singing a reggae-infused take on ‘Happy Birthday.’ That bubblecast has been viewed over ten million times.”

  “Also correct. Next?”

  Jelissa popped up. “Although Chase Bennett is most famous for his mastery of the ukulele, he also plays the guitar, banjo, harp, and piano.”

  Mr. Coda complimented Jelissa and quickly collected six more interesting facts about Chase Bennett:

  • Chase Bennett’s favorite food is spaghetti, and his favorite candy is gummy worms.

  • Chase Bennett loves to surf.

  • His hair just naturally grows that way.

  • His eyes are turquoise colored, not green, as some have claimed.

  • He has two dogs (a Chihuahua named Squirt and a German shepherd/golden retriever mix named Buster), a white cat (Cottonball), a lop-eared rabbit (Penelope), and three hamsters (Curly, Mo, and Bill). Rumors of Cottonball eating Mo are utterly untrue.

  • Now that he’s eighteen, Chase Bennett appears to have outgrown his peanut allergy.

  Mr. Coda called on Freesia to relate a final interesting fact.

  She stood up and cleared her throat. “Several bubble reports have recently linked Chase Bennett with twenty-year-old singing sensation Felicity Flufferhaus.”

  All the girls (and some of the boys) gasped.

  Freesia smiled. “Chase Bennett denies these reports. He says he barely knows Felicity and that when he falls in love, he will be the first to tell the world.”

  The girls sighed in unified relief. But news of Chase Bennett’s continuing availability wasn’t even the best news of the day.

  “Excellent work!” Mr. Coda said, clapping his hands. “But as it turns out, I have one more interesting—utterly interesting, I’d say—fact about Chase Bennett.”

  The entire class, even the boys, leaned forward.

  “When asked, just this morning, about his summer plans, Chase Bennett said that he is planning to sail his yacht to … Agalinas!”

  The crowd went wild, with giggling, squealing, hugging, and, yes, even a tear or two. When the immediate hysteria died down, a boy raised his hand.

  “Mr. Coda? When is summer?”

  Mr. Coda blinked several times and tilted his head to one side. “I’m not exactly sure. Soon, I think.”

  5

  Mummy was in the kitchen, stirring something in a pot.

  Daddy was at the table, reading a newspaper.

  Angel played with fashion dolls on the floor.

  “Good afternoon, Freesia,” Mummy said. “I’m making spaghetti, your favorite!”

  Daddy smiled over his paper. “Did you learn a lot in school today?”

  Angel scrambled off the tiles. “Oooh, Freesia, what pretty things did you buy? Let me see, let me see!”

  What if Taser was right? What if her sweet family wasn’t real? The thought made her heart hurt and her legs wobble.

  “Todd dammit!” Mummy yelled.

  Daddy threw down his paper. “What happened?”

  “I was draining the pasta, and I scalded myself. Stupid, stupid!”

  Freesia smiled (even though she felt bad for her mother, who seemed to be in a fair amount of pain).
Imaginary people don’t burn themselves.

  “Well?” Angel asked, hands on narrow hips.

  “Well what?” Freesia said, mirroring her sister.

  “Aren’t you going to show me what you bought?”

  Freesia pulled out the pretty pink dress. Angel, who loved anything to do with ballerinas, oohed and aahed and fussed over the rosette neckline. Then Freesia opened her box of pointy silver shoes (on sale for only fifteen shells—no need to wear an old pair after all) and let Angel teeter around the kitchen.

  “Soon your feet will be as big as mine!” Freesia said, realizing she’d said that lots of times before and that somehow Angel never seemed to catch up. “Angel, how old are you?” she blurted.

  Her sister’s mouth dropped open. “You don’t know?”

  “Of course I do. You’re … fourteen.”

  “Almost fourteen and a half,” Angel said.

  “It just seems funny that—” Freesia stopped.

  “What?” Angel’s big blue eyes filled with innocence. Angel would be beautiful someday. She was beautiful now, but in a little-girl way: fairy blond hair, cherry cheeks, slim hips, and coltish legs.

  “Someday you’ll be as big as me,” Freesia said. “It’s just funny to think about that.”

  Angel was a late bloomer, that was all. So what if she still played with dolls and barely even looked at her bubble. So what if she looked closer to eleven than fourteen. Angel loved Freesia, and Freesia loved her. That was as real as it got.

  “Dinner’s ready!” Mummy chirped, having apparently recovered from her scalding. She filled four plates, and they took them out to the sunny deck off the kitchen, where they could watch the boats toodle around the harbor and the waterbirds dive for fish. Freesia loved this time of day, sitting with her family, eating Mummy’s tasty food, thinking about her glorious today, looking forward to her glorious tomorrow.

  “We are lucky to live here,” Daddy said. And everyone agreed.

  Freesia didn’t need to ask her bubble for attire assistance before heading out to Ricky’s pool party. Last night she had worn her favorite swimsuit, so today she’d wear her second favorite. And tomorrow … tomorrow she’d wear her blue polka-dot dress with her white go-go boots. No need to ask for attire assistance then, either.