Stork by Wendy Delsol Page A

recently discovered she was a human Stork and had input on the placement of infant souls. Something about the guy caused my neurons to backfire, and made me say things and do things just to be contrary.
    Monique and two of her orbiting moonies walked by. She glanced at our group dismissively and then did a head snap, taking in Penny and Tina’s makeovers.
    “Don’t you two look nice tonight.” She flashed one of her campaign smiles.
    Of course, it was too good to be true. As they walked away, I distinctly heard Monique say, “Talk about lipstick on a pig.” She and her friends then dissolved into a fit of giggles.
    My concerns about Penny’s exposure to harmful chemicals evaporated with Penny’s smile. Even her hair seemed to droop a little.
    “Don’t listen to her.” I dropped an arm across Penny’s shoulders. “Evil. And wicked. And deserving of an overthrow. Remember?”
    Penny managed the slightest of shrugs. “I know.” I didn’t detect much confidence in her tone.
    “You’re twice the person she is,” Jack said, looking fondly at Penny. For the first time since I met the big doodah, he’d finished a sentence without me wanting to stuff his tongue down his throat. I nodded at him. In fact, I couldn’t have agreed more. “Prettier, too,” he continued. Had I a pardon to bestow, I’d have granted him one. Heck, if I had a sword, I might have knighted him.
    It seemed a perfect opportunity to give them a few moments alone. “Tina, do you want to get some punch?” I took Tina by the elbow. “You want us to bring you some, Penny?”
    Penny looked at us like we’d just dropped her onto a deserted island with only a nail file and a birthday candle. Now if only I had a way of hog-tying Pedro, the bothersome third wheel. I steered Tina toward the refreshments, noticing that groups of kids were starting to gather around the stage.
    “Now what?” I asked.
    “The class president will give a speech,” Tina said. “And then the band will start.”
    “Speech? From the president?” Who I knew to be Wade. I wasn’t sure I could stomach him pontificating. What I wouldn’t give for a magic carpet ride to the Century City Mall or the Third Street Promenade in Santa Monica right now. And what would the Asking Fire think of that request? Tina was called over by a small group of girls. I watched as she fluffed her hair for them, obviously a reaction to their compliments. I felt like a proud mother hen, happy and peace-filled, until I noticed Wade hovering around the table. He nodded to me, reached for two cups of punch, and walked my way.
    “Beverage?” he asked, holding out a cup for me.
    “No, thanks.”
    “Suit yourself.” He pounded down one, crushed the cup with his fist, and then gulped the other, finishing with a loud “Aaah.” He looked around and then dipped his head forward. “I’ve been thinking about you lately. And I like a girl with a little fire in her. Maybe we should try again.”
    “Over my dead body.”
    He laughed menacingly. “You really are a little hell cat, aren’t you?” He dipped his head closer. “Thing is, I don’t mind a challenge. Routine gets boring, if you know what I mean.”
    I took two steps back; he took three forward.
    I then heard a loud, shrill call from behind me. “Wade!”
    I turned, though it wasn’t necessary. Monique’s voice was as distinctive as a sonic boom, and just as subtle.
    “You’re being paged,” I said.
    “Duty calls.” He lifted his eyes toward the towering flames. “Don’t forget to feed the fire.”
    I watched as he sauntered off and grabbed Monique by the waist with a playful growl. She squealed and wriggled to get free. It was very loud and very dramatic — so was childbirth, according to most accounts.
    After they left, I took a cup of punch if for nothing else than to cleanse my palate of the aftertaste of arrogance. It didn’t help much, but at least it filled my mouth with more than just unused stinging barbs. I took