if i got three wishes, first i'd find out all about how wishes work

[self_composed]

Bella brings two blank notebooks to school the next day. Her old one is safely computerized and boxed up with its predecessors.

At lunch, she sits with Angela; Jessica and Eric and Lauren sit at the same table but mostly talk to each other, and Mike is nowhere to be seen.

Bella is just about on time to gym, thanks to an overnight icing that means she has to pick her way with extreme care across the slippery grass or the slick sidewalks. The second time she falls down, she gives up on attempting any dignity at all, and, cradling her thwacked elbow, scoots the rest of the way to the gym on her rear. This leaves her with damp jeans but no further injuries, and they were a little damp anyway from the falls.

She doesn't have time to do more than smile and wave at Alice on her way to get her mat and get out of the way of careening balls. She spends the class doing the subset of her safe activities that won't stress her elbow.

Comments

[self_composed]

Bella fetches mixing bowls as instructed. She bumps her head on the cupboard and does her best to be discreet in pocketing her new square.

[edgeofyourseat]

"Careful there," says Hilary. (Alice snickers.) "Thank you, just set them down over there." She drifts over to the fridge and starts calling out ingredients to be assembled, carefully specifying where each one might be found. Alice hops to it.

[self_composed]

"Sorry, I'm just really terribly clumsy," Bella says. "I don't know if that's one of the things my dad mentioned." She helps find ingredients too, humming to herself quietly.

[edgeofyourseat]

"She has to sit out of gym in case she breaks something," Alice volunteers.

...And glances over at Bella, thoughtfully.

[self_composed]

"I might try getting back in when we switch from volleyball to badminton!" Bella says brightly. "Badminton's probably pretty safe!"

Not for her, but she can probably convince Ms. Finch if she immediately fixes any bruises and scratches she collects.

[edgeofyourseat]

"Knock yourself out," says a grinning Alice.

"Less casual sadism, more butter," says Hilary, handing him a block of butter and a knife.

[self_composed]

"Knocking myself out would be an undesirable outcome," hums Bella, fetching shaved coconut from the fridge.

[edgeofyourseat]

"All right, I will make the caramel," says Hilary. "Can you two manage the first round of dry ingredients by yourselves?"

"Probably," says Alice.

[self_composed]

"I think so," Bella agrees, looking at the recipe.

[edgeofyourseat]

"Then get to it!"

"Yes ma'am," says Alice, laughing. He moves over to where things such as flour have been lined up next to the large mixing bowl.

[self_composed]

Bella starts scooping measuring cups into containers. In the presence of the cake deity, she even bothers to sift the flour.

[edgeofyourseat]

Hilary busies herself at the stove with butter, sugar, and the mysteries of the cosmos. Alice pours things and fetches other things and lends his supply of muscle power to the task of stirring. All in all, it is a very cheerful kitchen.

[self_composed]

When the cake's several layers are each in the oven, and the various frostings are in their bowls and in the piping bag ready for application, Bella leans with a happy sigh against the counter. "Well," she says. "That's that, for the next thirty to thirty-five minutes."

[edgeofyourseat]

"Job well done," Hilary agrees. "And would you look at that," she opens a drawer with one hand and picks up a pot off the stove with the other, "leftover caramel and three spoons. Dig in, kids."

[self_composed]

Bella laughs gleefully and takes a spoon - and a big scraping of caramel from the bowl, too.

[edgeofyourseat]

Alice waits until Hilary has taken her spoonful before he grabs his. Of course, that means he gets to go all the way around the bottom and end up with a glob of caramel on his spoon that looks like it is about to fall off any second.

Nom!

[self_composed]

"I don't think I ever got to the point of seeing your favorite book," Bella remarks to Alice. "I became distracted by that other book and then we wandered off."

[edgeofyourseat]

He swallows his current mouthful of caramel and says, "That is very true! Wanna go give it another shot? With less falling this time?"

[self_composed]

"Yes, I'll have to be more careful given the state of your floor," chuckles Bella. She licks her spoon clean and puts it in the dishwasher.

[edgeofyourseat]

"Yep." He sticks his spoon in his mouth again, pulls it out nearly free of caramel, drops it in the dishwasher, waves to Hilary, and leads the way out of the kitchen.

[self_composed]

Bella follows him up to his room, trying to lope like she hasn't spent her life fearing falling.

[edgeofyourseat]

This time, he kicks old laundry aside to clear a path from the door to the desk under the window, then reaches up to grab a book down from the shelf above the desk.

It's quite a small book.

The title of the book is: Repent, Harlequin! said the Ticktockman.

[self_composed]

Bella plucks the book out of his hand and opens it up. "What's it about?" she asks.

[edgeofyourseat]

...He cracks up.

If she looks at the first page, she will find out why:

There are always those who ask, what is it all about? For those who need to ask, for those who need points sharply made, who need to know "where it's at," this:

"The mass of men serve the state thus, not as men mainly, but as machines, with their bodies. They are the standing army, and the militia, jailors, constables, posse comitatus, etc. In most cases there is no free exercise whatever of the judgment or of the moral sense; but they put themselves on a level with wood and earth and stones; and wooden men can perhaps be manufactured that will serve the purposes as well. Such command no more respect than men of straw or a lump of dirt. They have the same sort of worth only as horses and dogs.
Yet such as these even are commonly esteemed good citizens. Others as most legislators, politicians, lawyers, ministers, and office-holders serve the state chiefly with their heads; and, as they rarely make any moral distinctions, they are as likely to serve the Devil, without intending it, as God. A very few, as heroes, patriots, martyrs, reformers in the great sense, and men, serve the state with their consciences also, and so necessarily resist it for the most part; and they are commonly treated as enemies by it."

Henry David Thoreau, "Civil Disobedience"

[self_composed]

Bella giggles. "Can I borrow this?"