“Something secret,” I said.
Madison’s eyes lit up. “I love secrets,” she said as her baby giggled. “I knew there was a reason I missed you.”
“Remember your book report on Dorothy?” She nodded. “You’re going to help me find that bitch’s shoes.”
TEN
“Dorothy’s shoes?” Madison’s eyes were wide in disbelief. “You really did get hit on the head, right? News flash, babe. Dorothy isn’t a real person.”
“Well . . . ,” I said, hesitating. “I can explain—” But I was cut off by the bell for fifth period. Dustin and Madison were staring at me. Dustin Jr. burped and closed his eyes. “Meet me after school,” I said in a rush. “On the front steps. It will make sense. Sort of. I promise.” But they were gathering up their books and bags.
“Gotta hose this little dude off,” Madison said, not meeting my eyes. Okay, fine. Madison had been the worst thing in my life before I left for Oz, and Dustin had just been a dopey dreamer who I thought I had something in common with. Who was I kidding? We weren’t friends. And it didn’t matter, because I didn’t need them. I’d done everything else on my own. I could do this, too. Dustin gave me a little wave as they walked away from me. I waved back. At least he’d always been nice. Even if it was only because he wanted something from me.
I needed a plan, but I didn’t even know where to start. Gert, Mombi, and Glamora hadn’t given me much to go on. In between pre-calc and PE I ducked into the girls’ bathroom, locked myself in a stall, and did my best to send out a couple of tendrils of magic just to see if I suddenly could. But it was no use. I was going to have to do this the hard way, and I didn’t have a clue where to start.
To make my day even worse, I had a hot date with Assistant Principal Strachan. He’d told my mom I’d have to come in and meet with him on my first day back. The last thing I wanted was to make waves, so I made sure I was at his office ten minutes early. The receptionist, Mrs. Perkins, had probably been working at the high school when my grandmother was in diapers. She was a sweet older lady who always wore matching twinsets, no matter the weather, and kept a stash of lollipops in her desk drawer. Which I knew, because I’d spent a lot of time in Assistant Principal Strachan’s office. But Mrs. Perkins never judged me no matter how many times I got in trouble. I think secretly she was on my side.
“Amy!” she exclaimed as I walked into the school office. “It’s been a while since you visited!” She winked at me and dug a lollipop out of her drawer before I even asked. “The principal will be with you in just a moment. Have a seat.”
“Cherry! You remembered,” I said, sitting in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs. I didn’t really care that much about Mrs. Perkins’s lollipops, but she always seemed so happy when I took one that I pretended to be excited. A few minutes later, I could hear Assistant Principal Strachan yelling for me from behind his door. Mrs. Perkins winked at me again as I took a deep breath and walked into his office.
If I’d changed in the last month, Assistant Principal Strachan definitely hadn’t. His wire-rimmed glasses were slipping down his big, bulbous nose. His pitch-black toupee was slightly askew, revealing a thin tuft of graying hair underneath. His suit was the same one he wore every single day—and probably had been wearing every single day since around 1995. His beady brown eyes peered at me through his glasses. And, as usual, he didn’t look happy to see me.
“Miss Gumm,” he growled, pointing to a chair in the corner like I was a kid. I guess I did still have that lollipop. “Very nice of you to rejoin us after your little sojourn.”
“I was in the hospital,” I said.
“Your mother has already shared her concerns with me,” he said, ignoring me. “She felt we should accommodate you given your circumstances, but I’m not so sure I agree. You’ve started fights repeatedly—”
“I’ve never started them!” I protested, and he scowled.
He clucked his tongue. “Already arguing with me. I see you haven’t changed much. Look here, young lady. Your mother told me your story about being in the hospital. I think all three of us know that’s a lie. I don’t know where you’ve been the last month, Miss Gumm, but one whiff of trouble from you and you’ll be expelled. Permanently. Am I making myself clear?”
I opened my mouth to protest again and then shut it. If I got kicked out of school, I’d have no possible way to search for the shoes, which meant no way to get back to Oz—for me or for anyone else. “Yes sir,” I said meekly, swallowing my pride. “I’m sorry.”
“You should be suspended,” he grumbled, but my apology seemed to mollify him. “Get back to class. Don’t let me see you in my office again.” I nodded obediently. As I left, Mrs. Perkins snuck me another lollipop.
On my way back to class, I stopped in front of the tired old glass-cased diorama by the school’s front doors. It was a display dedicated to Kansas’s most famous export, The Wizard of Oz: a dollhouse-sized farm with a backdrop of a painted tornado and, in the distance, a faint, glittering image of Oz. There were even little cows grazing in the fake grass that surrounded the farm, and a plastic Dorothy in a tiny checked dress shading her eyes as she looked toward the descending tornado. A tiny plastic Toto capered at her feet. When it was new, the diorama must have been nice, but that had been a long time ago. Over the years, dust had crept in and thickly furred the figurines, hiding their features under a layer of gray. The grass was patchy and balding, and several of the cows had fallen over.
I’d never thought much about the diorama before, but it had a whole new significance now—especially since I’d found the scrap of article. Even though I knew Dorothy was real—she’d almost killed me enough times—it was still sinking in that Dorothy was real. She’d been a farm girl on this very patch of land. Her enchanted shoes were probably—hopefully—still here. But if the witches were right, how was it that no one knew? I’d found the article without much trouble by doing a basic internet search. Everyone knew about Dorothy’s story. So how was it possible that in a hundred years no one had figured out it was true? Had someone tried to cover it up? It was the only explanation I could come up with, but I couldn’t imagine who—or why.
There was no point in worrying about that now; I had way bigger problems. If the shoes were really here, I’d have to figure out a way to search for them without getting caught, stay out of trouble, keep Assistant Principal Strachan happy, and convince my mom that everything was okay. And I couldn’t help but think about what he’d said in his office about all three of us knowing that I’d lied about being in the hospital. Was that why my mom had accepted my totally implausible story—because she’d known all along I was making it up? Did she think I had just run away? Had she pretended to believe me because she thought the truth might hurt too much for her to hear? I filed that under “things to figure out later” and ran back to chemistry. I had a lot of work to make up, and I needed everyone to believe I was happy to be home until I had another chance to escape.
ELEVEN
After they’d ditched me in the cafeteria, I wasn’t expecting to see Madison and Dustin waiting for me on the front steps after school, just like I’d asked them to. I did a comical double take, and Madison grinned. “I don’t know what your deal is,” she said, “but you’re the most interesting thing that’s happened in Flat Hill since some dumbass thought a hill could be flat.”