The Not-So-Pretty Pixies Read online

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1: Wipeout!

  Chapter 2: TNF: Totally. Not. Fair.

  Chapter 3: Did You Knock?

  Chapter 4: What Now?

  Chapter 5: Pretty Ugly

  Chapter 6: Both Sides of the Story

  Chapter 7: Surprise Party!

  Chapter 8: Listen Up!

  Chapter 9: A Terrible Mistake

  Chapter 10: Thumbs-Up

  The Ice Castle Excerpt

  About the Author and Illustrator

  To Bina,

  the best sisterrrr!

  —G. S.

  Wipeout!

  Clickety-clackety-clickety-clack!

  I zoom down the sidewalk on my skateboard. The wind makes my hair fly out of my pigtails, and I have to spit it out of my mouth. Pffffffttt!

  “Hurry up, Mom!”

  Mom and I are going to school like always, and I tease her like always because she is a slowpoke. Mom is walking and I’m on my skateboard, so I am wayyyyy in front of her. Obviously!

  Suddenly a blast of light flashes in my eyes and blinds me! I can’t see anything!

  “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaah!”

  Then—ka-bonkity ka-bonk!—I fall feet-over-helmet onto the sidewalk. WIPEOUT!!!

  I hear footsteps rush to my side.

  “Wow!” says a girl from behind me. “Are you okay?”

  “Here, let us help you!” another girl says.

  I look up and can’t believe it! It’s that awful Gabby Gaburp and her meanie sidekick, Carol Rattinger. What are they doing here? And why are they being so nice?

  They pull me up and help me dust off. I have dirt all over my knees and elbows, but I don’t hurt anywhere. Phew! While I am dusting, I check to make sure they haven’t put a PRANK ME sign on my backpack.

  Nope—all clear!

  I double-check my skateboard in case they did something bad to it. But nothing seems different—the wheels still spin and make an awesome swirly spiral when they turn. There’s not a meanie trick in sight.

  I’m all, Huh? These two girls are never nice to me. It’s just plain weird.

  “Thanks for your help, I guess?” I say to them. It was really nice of them to check on me.

  “Oh, Daisy, thank goodness you’re okay!” Mom says, finally catching up to us. I guess I was way wayyy waaaaayyy ahead of her. “You’ve got to be more careful when you’re going that fast, Miss Daisy Dreamer!” she scolds me.

  Then she turns to Carol and Gabby. “Thank you, girls, for helping Daisy! I’m so glad she’s all right!”

  The girls smile sweetly. I didn’t even know their faces could do that!

  “No problem, Mrs. D.!” they say, and we all grin at one another.

  It feels really weird and strange, but it’s nice for a change. And to make things even stranger, Gabby, Carol, and I walk the rest of the way to school together, like we’re friends. Did my world just turn upside down?

  I mean, I have a big imagination, but I would never ever have imagined this.

  TNF: Totally. Not. Fair.

  Gabby and I always sit at the same table at school. Usually she never looks at me. But today she looks at me a lot. Like, a lot a lot. It makes me think maybe I have something on my face. So I rub my face all over, but nothing comes off.

  What is going on with her today? I wonder. Something has to be wrong. Obviously.

  So I ask, “What are you staring at, Gabby?”

  And she twists her face all funny and looks kind of embarrassed. “I . . . I think you have someone on your head,” she says.

  I sit right up in my chair. “WHAT?!” I say, a little bit too loud. I pat my hair all over, but I can’t feel anything.

  What is she talking about? I wonder. I would know if there was a person on my head Obviously!

  I expect her to laugh at me, but she doesn’t, which is also weird. All I can think is that it must have been her imagination.

  And speaking of imagining . . . I haven’t seen my friend Posey in days! I’ve tried to go to the World of Make-Believe all week but couldn’t get in. I miss my very real imaginary friend!

  While I am thinking about Posey, a bright light flashes in my eyes again, and I am blinded, just like on my skateboard. I rub my eyes and look around to see who did it.

  I spy Carol over in the corner. She’s tilting her watch to reflect a beam of sunlight right into my eyes!

  “Hey!” I shout. “Stop that!”

  Everyone turns around and stares at me. Carol, of course, pretends like nothing happened. But I know better, so I point my finger at her.

  “So you’re the reason I fell off my skateboard this morning!” I yell at her. “You did that on purpose, and you were just pretending to be nice!”

  Carol leans over her table. “DID NOT!” she shouts.

  “DID TOO!” I shout back.

  Then I whip around and glare at Gabby. “And I bet you didn’t see anything on my head, either!” I yell at her. “You were just trying to make me look silly!”

  Gabby lets out a huff. “You’re wrong!” she complains. “And you’re not being fair!”

  Our teacher, Mr. Roberts, makes a time-out sign with his hands and whistles loudly. We stop yelling. Then he walks over to my table and asks what’s wrong. I try to explain that Gabby and Carol are making fun of me.

  “Well, it’s not true!” Gabby says firmly. But I don’t believe her for a second. Then Gabby makes a sad, pouty face, and Mr. Roberts actually believes her!

  And what’s worse? He says I have to stay after class for yelling, which is TNF: Totally. Not. Fair.

  Obviously.

  Did You Knock?

  The bell rang and everyone got to go except me because I am in trouble. Mr. Roberts is going to get my mom right now, and here I am, stuck in this dumb classroom all by myself. To make matters worse, I can hear kids laughing and having all kinds of fun outside. TNF!

  Bonk! Bonk! Bonk!

  That’s my head bonking the table because I am B-O-R-E-D.

  “PSSSSSSST!”

  Wait, what’s that noise? I look all around, but nobody’s there.

  “PSSSSSSST!”

  Hey, there it goes again! It comes from the window. I squint hard and see nothing but dust particles floating in the light. But then the dust particles start coming together—like magic—and I see a Pretty Pixie!

  It’s Twee!

  I run to the window and say hi. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen anyone from the WOM, and I’m so happy she’s here! I hold out my finger like a little perch, and Twee lands on it. She looks at me and frowns.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  And Twee’s tiny eyes grow wide. “There’s trouble in the Land of the Pretty Pixies!” she says. “I need your help!”

  I walk back to my table, balancing Twee on my finger.

  “I wish I could!” I say. “But I haven’t been able to get into the WOM all week! I draw doors, but none of them open!”

  Twee shifts her tiny feet, and it tickles my finger.

  “I can help with that,” Twee says, like it’s no big deal. Then she flies across the room, grabs a sheet of paper, and slides it in front of me. “Just try again,” she tells me. And now I feel a little bad for giving up so easily.

  I rummage through my pencil case and pull out a purple marker. I’m just about to draw a door when I hear a knock from underneath the table.

  Rap! Rap! Rap!

  I lean over and peer underneath. My pigtails go upside down. I check everywhere, but there’s nobody there. I pop back up, and then a doorbell rings. And rings. And rings.

  Ding-dong! Ding-dong! Ding-dong!

  The chimes seem to come from under the table too. I loo
k at Twee, and she points to the paper.

  “Just draw a door,” she urges. “Then maybe you can answer it.”

  So I quickly draw a door. No sooner do I add a doorknob than it instantly opens up. And guess who’s standing there with his arms crossed? Posey! Obviously.

  “It’s about time!” he says a little grumpily. “I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about me!”

  “I would never forget about you!” I say. And then I explain how I’ve been drawing doors all week and how none of them opened.

  Posey and Twee shake their heads like they don’t believe a word I’m saying.

  “Well, did you knock on the doors after you made them?” Posey asks.

  I scratch my head. “Nope,” I say. “I just tried the knobs.”

  Posey clunks his forehead with one of his hands. “You have to knock, silly!” he says. Then he holds one hand to his ear.

  So right on cue, I rap on my desk three times. “You mean like that?”

  “Perfect!” Posey says. “Knock and the door shall open!” Then he winks at me. “Now let’s go play!”

  “Sounds good!” I say as I hop up from my table. Then I put my hands over my head, lean over, and dive right through the door I drew on my paper.

  What Now?

  Whoa! Everything’s upside down! I mean really, actually, truly upside down. I’m dangling from a tree!

  “HELP!” I shout, but Posey and Twee are too busy laughing at me. Posey snorts through his nose so he sounds like a rhinoceros, and Twee actually tweets!

  TWEET! SNORT! TWEET! SNORT!

  I don’t think it’s funny until after they get me down.

  “We forgot to warn you—you have to enter the WOM feetfirst. Otherwise you arrive upside down!” Posey points out.

  I roll my eyes. “Well, thanks for the heads up!” I say.

  Then Twee elbows Posey. “More like a heads down!” she says, and they both start giggling again.

  I pull a leaf from my hair. “Don’t we have work to do?” I remind them.

  Twee claps her teeny-tiny hands. “Oh yes, we do!” she says, beckoning us to follow her. “Now, be careful where you step. Pretty Pixie villages are tiny!”

  I take all of two steps, and something goes squish! Right. Under. My. Foot.

  “Oh no!” I cry. “I accidentally stepped on a mushroom house!” The Pretty Pixie owner is shaking her fist and shouting in a pipsqueak voice at me. I am just glad she wasn’t inside.

  Posey plucks a new mushroom from the forest floor and sprinkles some imaginary friend dust on top of it.

  “Fixer-upper!” he shouts. And just like that, the mushroom magically turns into a brand-new house—only bigger and better than the one I had stepped on. Posey hands it to me, and I carefully place it on the ground next to the squashed house. The pixie claps her hands in delight.

  Reminder to self: Sneak some of Posey’s imaginary friend dust. That stuff is amazing!

  After that, I am much more careful about where I step. But now I am watching my feet so hard that—blammo! I walk straight into a swarm of angry pixies.

  “OWEE!” I cry.

  Little leaves flicker against my face. Tiny fists and feet strike my eyes, nose, and ears. I even have little pixies tangled in my hair! And all of them are shouting at one another.

  “WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?” I yell over the noise.

  But nobody pays any attention to me.

  Finally, Twee lets out an earsplitting whistle. “SCREEEEEEEE!”

  The pixies all stop talking at once and look at us. Some mutter an apology. Some stick out their tongues. Others hiss. All of them separate into two groups on either side of Posey and me.

  “You guys remember Daisy, right?” Twee asks.

  They stare at Twee blankly.

  “Well, Daisy’s here to help us!” Twee says.

  Now the Pretty Pixies glare at me. “WE DON’T NEED ANY HELP!” they all shout at once. And in a great hum of pixie dust, they fly away—half in one direction and half in the other.

  “Hmm . . . that probably could have gone better,” I say.

  Pretty Ugly

  I plunk down on a log and sigh.

  “How can the Pretty Pixies be so mean to one another?” I ask my friends. “It really makes them not so pretty at all!”

  Posey sits next to me and agrees. “Being angry actually makes them pretty ugly.”

  Then Twee flutters over to my outstretched finger. “Remember, just because we look pretty, doesn’t mean we don’t ever get upset,” she answers sadly. “Sometimes Pretty Pixies need help feeling better too!”

  I pull Twee in closer. “But what’s making them so mad?” I ask.

  Twee sits on my finger and tells us about a Pretty Pixie tradition.

  “Every year we have the Pretty Pixie Party,” she explains. “It’s a magical celebration with fireworks, cotton candy, and roasted corn. We also sing our special pixie Song of the Forest.”

  Wow, their party sounds fun! “But how could something so magical turn into something so ugly?” I ask.

  Twee shrugs and shakes her head sadly. “I’m not sure,” she says. “But something’s gone very wrong. I went away for a few days, and when I came back, my pixie sisters were arguing. Now they’ve been arguing for days, and no one will stop being angry long enough to explain how it started.”

  I lower my finger a little because my whole arm is getting tired from being a perch. “Well, this is positively terrible!” I say.

  And Posey agrees. “How is anyone supposed to fix the problem if the pixies won’t even tell you what’s the matter?” he asks.

  Twee rests her wee chin in one hand. “I don’t know,” she says sadly. “But we have to find out soon or our Pretty Pixie Party will be completely ruined!”

  “Hmm,” I murmur.

  “Hmm, what?” Posey asks.

  “Well, my grandma Upsy always says that listening solves problems better than yelling.”

  Posey pulls out a megaphone. “And there sure is a lot of yelling around here!” he adds, hollering loudly.

  Twee frowns. “I tried to help them, but they wouldn’t let me,” she says. “Maybe you and Posey could try.”

  I nod. “Definitely,” I say. “First, I think it might help if Posey and I weren’t so big and scary looking.”

  Twee agrees. So I turn to Posey. “Does imaginary friend dust work on Daisy Dreamers, too?”

  Posey’s eyes light up. “It does in the WOM!” he says. “Why?”

  I hop up from the log. “Because, my friend, you and I need to get small!”

  Both Sides of the Story

  Posey and I stand side by side.

  “Ready?” I say, holding a fistful of imaginary friend dust.

  “Ready!” Posey answers.

  Then I fling the magical dust in the air, and it drifts down on our heads.

  “Alakazam! Alakazee! Make a pixie out of you and me!” I shout.

  ZIP! ZAP ZOOP! I feel myself shrink down to pixie size. Posey shrinks too.

  “Look at our teeny-tiny hands!” I exclaim. This is so cool! “And look, we can even fly like the pixies!” I flutter in a cloud and go Shoop! Shoop! this way and that. Posey does the same. This is TMF! Too. Much. Fun. But, more important, now we are not so big and scary.

  Twee claps her hands in delight.

  “You’re pixie perfect!” she exclaims.

  Then I grab hold of her hand. “Come on! Let’s go talk to those Not-So-Pretty Pixies!”

  Twee flies us to the first Pretty Pixie group. This collection of pixies seems to be the elders. They have white hair and wise eyes. Their leader is named La-di-la, and she agrees to talk to us.

  “The Pretty Pixie Party is a time-honored tradition,” La-di-la says. “We have fireworks, cotton candy, and roasted corn, and then we sing our special Song of the Forest. That’s the way it’s always been, and that’s the way it will stay. End of conversation!”

  Before I can respond, La-di-la flies away.

&n
bsp; “Thanks for telling us how you feel!” I say to her back.

  Posey scowls. “More like yelling us how you feel,” he whispers.

  Twee whistles for us to follow. We fly to the other group. These pixies seem younger. They have wild hair and hopeful eyes. Their leader is named Bella. She is shaking her head before I even say one word.

  “Why should we talk to you?” she says. “You already talked to La-di-la, which means you’re on her side!”

  I hold my hands out in peace. “No, no, no!” I plead. “We promise to listen to both sides!”

  Bella looks to her group and then back to us.

  “But we’re the youngest pixies!” she says. “Nobody listens to the youngest. They all think we have crazy ideas.”

  I cross my heart. “Age makes no difference,” I say. “We want everyone to be happy.”

  Bella’s shoulders relax a little. She agrees to tell her group’s side of the story. “The Pretty Pixie Party is very important to us, too, but we’d like to start a new tradition with sparkleworks, candy apples, roasted carrots, and the Song of the Forest,” she says. “It’s time for a change, and we’re not going to back down!”

  I thank Bella for being so honest. “Your idea does not sound crazy to me,” I say.

  Then Posey, Twee, and I have a huddle.

  “Well, we’ve heard both sides of the story,” Twee says. “Now what?”

  I tap the side of my cheek with one finger to help me think.