CHAPTER 14

ONE LAST OBSTACLE

I woke up the next morning to the sound of Libby screaming. Someone had snuck into her room and mysteriously messed up all her makeup. I’m not positive it was Hairy, but something about the way he looked and spoke made me suspicious.

I tried to explain to him that he had done a bad thing, but he didn’t understand.

Hairy growled again, vowing to cast a spell on the troll himself as soon as he remembered a good one.

I probably would have been more interested in coming up with a spell that would cause Libby grief if I hadn’t been so nervous about the tryouts this afternoon. There would be lights and cameras and lots of contestants. There would also be people from the show with microphones asking us questions.

Besides, I would be working with Jack and Teddy and Rourk and Aaron and Trevor. They still knew nothing about baking and making food, and only Aaron lied about having any skills.

Aaron also called whisking “super stirring,” and he thought broiling meant to roll things in nuts. The only real advantage we had was that all of us were incredibly average, and according to the name of the show, that was what was most important.

My friends came over to my house around noon for last-minute questions and one final pep talk. I tried to say things that would rally them and get them fired up for the competition.

Trevor looked slightly pumped up, and Jack called me a cooking nerd. The rest of my friends seemed too nervous to say anything. I knew none of them really wanted to do this, but they all felt obligated because of Janae and her friends challenging us. Jack kept insisting …

And I kept telling him that all he would have to do was just stand there and chop things or clean bowls. Rourk had other concerns.

I put my head in my hands and sighed. I had already told Rourk ten times that there would be no latex involved, but he still kept asking. Besides, he wasn’t really allergic to latex—he was just scared of balloons.

Teddy was doing this for the dough.

They all knew that today was just the tryouts and that there was no money involved. I had told them a hundred times that if we won the tryouts, then we would be on the actual show and then maybe we might win ten thousand dollars.

Trevor started to lecture Jack about saving his money while the others argued over whether or not they should buy a solid gold car or a solid gold plane.

I couldn’t think about any of that. I just wanted to make it through the day without looking worse in front of Janae. This wasn’t supposed to be about selfish things like money or monkeys. This was supposed to be about me looking awesome in front of Janae.

To make things even more troublesome, my mom was gone doing something with Tuffin so she couldn’t drive us to the tryouts. That meant my dad would have to do it. Don’t get me wrong—I love my dad, but he drives like my grandma’s great-grandma.

I don’t think he’s ever put the pedal to the metal. In fact, I don’t think he’s ever really pushed the gas pedal down. It always feels like we’re crawling when he’s at the wheel. Once, when I needed to get to the store to buy some shoes that were on sale, he drove so slow that by the time we got there I was out of luck.

So it made me uneasy to know that we were going to be dependent on my father to get us to the tryouts on time. The rules to the competition clearly stated that any team that wasn’t there by the start time was automatically eliminated.

I grabbed my backpack and my recipes, and we all loaded into our huge van. My dad pulled out of the driveway and began to drive in the wrong direction. I knew the Civic Center was near the small hills, and we were heading away from them.

My heart passed out. I hated my dad’s quick stops—they were never quick. In fact, his quick stops were a big reason he was always late.

I couldn’t talk my dad out of his quick stop, no matter how hard I tried. He needed to drop off a swing at a park on the other side of town. One of their swings was broken, and he had promised to deliver a new one today. I begged and pleaded with him to go to the tryouts first, but he kept saying …

When we arrived at the park, my dad got out his toolbox and took off the broken swing. He then attached the new one and asked me to test the swing to make sure it worked.

By the time we got back into the van, there were only twenty-five minutes until the tryouts started, and we were at least twenty-six minutes away. Even Jack was growing anxious.

Despite being in a hurry, my dad drove five miles under the speed limit while whistling. Also, every school zone we went through, he slowed down even more. I rubbed my eyes out of frustration. It was Saturday, and the schools weren’t even in session, but he insisted on going slow anyway.

I glanced at the clock on the dashboard and moaned. The tryouts started in ten minutes, and we were at least fifteen minutes away. Trevor suggested we all cry to make my dad go faster. It wasn’t the best plan, but it was all we had. But our wailing and complaining didn’t seem to faze my father in the least. He just kept whistling and talking as if there was no urgency at all.

My dad stopped the car completely while we waited for a train to cross in front of us. I was thinking about pulling my hair out when I felt something tap my right foot. I looked down, and there, peeking out of my backpack, was Hairy. I had brought him only because he had promised to stay hidden. I motioned for him to get back in, but instead of listening, he pulled out his right hand and lifted up his wand. He pointed it toward my dad’s head and mumbled something. Strong red sparks flew out of the end of the wand, and instantly my dad’s glasses fogged up.

I looked at Hairy and panicked. I wasn’t sure how my dad being blind would help the situation. To make things scarier, all the van windows began to fog up too. The van grew dark, and there was no sign of an outside world. I could feel my seat rock and then, with a swift forward motion, I felt the entire van being lifted. My body pressed back into my seat as the vehicle lunged forward. Everyone was screaming and crying for real now.

My dad seemed oblivious to it all. He took off his glasses and was wiping the lenses with his tie. Since he couldn’t see very well with his glasses off, he didn’t even notice the fogged-up windows or the fact that we seemed to be flying—which was weird, because it felt like we were soaring miles above the earth.

A few seconds later, we could feel the van drop and touch the ground. We all bounced in our seat belts as the vehicle came to a sudden stop. Instantly the windows cleared up, and I could see that we were parked out in front of the civic center. My dad finished cleaning his glasses and put them back on.

My friends and I caught our breath. I looked down at Hairy as he slipped back into my pack. I felt sick, exhilarated, and nervous all at the same time. Part of me had been hoping to be late and be disqualified so I wouldn’t have the chance to fail.

We all stumbled out of the van and into the Civic Center.