22

Wren Sees the Light

A knock on the sticker door.

Wren opened her eyes. The bed was so cozy, so familiar, that for a second she forgot what had happened last night.

But then Wren moved her arm. The bandage where the IV needle had been inserted brushed against the sheets. And it all came rushing back.

The icy cold. The heated blanket. The oxygen monitor tight over her finger.

“Come in,” she said.

The sticker door swung open. Izzy flopped down at the end of the bed. “Were you still sleeping?” she asked.

Wren looked to the window. A bright midday winter sun shone around the curtain edges. “What time is it?”

“Almost noon,” said Izzy. “Isn’t that great!”

“Great?” Wren’s head ached. The doctor had warned her about that. She remembered something about staying hydrated.

“We missed theater camp,” continued Izzy. “Even my mom didn’t have the energy to get up this morning. I mean, I know you almost died. But at least something good came out of it.”

Izzy smiled. But then the corners of her mouth dropped. “Sorry,” said Izzy. “I didn’t mean . . .”

“Anytime,” said Wren. She did a pretend bow, like Otto might, one arm at her waist and the other outstretched as if holding a tray.

Izzy laughed. And so did Wren. The shaking made her head hurt. But it was so worth it.

Except then Wren remembered there was something else she needed to say and she stopped laughing. She should have said it in the hospital last night. But she and Izzy had been taken to different exam rooms. And when they were released, at almost two in the morning, Izzy fell asleep as soon as they got in the car.

But now, Wren had no excuse. “I’m sorry for what I said about you not having any friends.”

Izzy bit her lower lip. She hesitated. “The thing is, it’s kind of the truth.”

“No,” said Wren. “Not anymore.”

Izzy shifted on the bed. Crossed her legs underneath her. She spun the hospital ID bracelet, the same kind that Wren had, around her wrist. Then Izzy stood up and reached into the back pocket of her jeans.

“Here,” she said. “This is for you. It’s from Daphne.”

“Daphne?” asked Wren, feeling bumps in the envelope. “Is there poison inside? Because almost dying once is enough for me.”

Izzy shook her head. “It’s an invitation. Open it.”

Wren pulled out a piece of paper the same color as the envelope. She held the paper so Izzy could see, but Izzy barely glanced at the words before turning away.

It was an invitation to an epic sleepover at Daphne’s house. But why would Daphne ever invite her?

Confused, Wren pulled out the other item in the envelope: a red beaded bracelet.

Izzy gasped. She leaned over and touched the bracelet with one finger.

“What’s wrong?” asked Wren.

“I think it’s a setup,” said Izzy. Izzy explained how Phoebe’s and Serena’s envelopes had bracelets with tie-dye beads. “Daphne probably wants you to come so she can turn you away at the door. She probably didn’t think I would see you open the envelope. She really is the queen of mean.”

“But there’s no way I would ever go to her sleepover,” said Wren. “Never ever.”

“That’s not the way Daphne thinks. She thinks everyone wants to hang out with her, no matter what.”

Wren nodded in agreement.

The question was: What to do about it?