The bewildered guard was still scratching his head as
Zach scrambled away to rejoin Sophie—and Rachel,
who was staring at him in surprise. He couldn’t quite
read her expression. Was she embarrassed for him . . .
or by him?
“Um, hi, Rachel,” he said awkwardly. He wiped his
wet hair away from his eyes. “What’s new?”
She spotted Sophie’s glasses in his hand and put two
and two together. “Hang on, you were using Sophie’s
glasses to turn invisible?”
“Keep it down, please,” Sophie cautioned as she took
back her glasses. “But, yes, he was trying to use my pow-
ers . . . just not very well.”
“Yeah, what happened there?” Zach asked. “What
was I doing wrong?”
“Besides using my glasses without any practice?” So-
phie sighed wearily. “It’s like if the first time you ever
rode a bike, you got on a ten-speed and tried to ride
straight downhill—without any training wheels.”
“But how was he able to use them at all?” Rachel
asked. “I thought it was one customer per magic object.”
“That’s how it’s supposed to work,” Zach said, “but
then I saw you and Hogan together—”
“Whoa there! You were spying on me and Hogan?”
A shocked expression came over her face. “While you
were invisible?”
“No!” Zach realized that he’d accidentally put his foot
in his mouth again. “I was spying on Hogan and Tri-
cia!” He tried frantically to explain so she wouldn’t get
the wrong idea. “They’re plotting against you. They’ve
got some sort of sneaky plan involving the dance. I heard
them with my own ears . . . right before things kinda got
out of control.”
“And you ended up standing in the fountain in your
underwear,” Rachel said. She sounded distinctly unim-
pressed by Zach’s story.
“Well, technically, I still had my clothes on. They were
just invisible. But that’s not the point,” Zach insisted.
“You can’t trust Hogan.”
Rachel looked around. “So where are Hogan and Tri-
cia now?”
“They split a few minutes ago—right before you
showed up!”
Even as he said it, Zach realized just how lame that
sounded.
“I’m not making this up,” he promised. “They were there,
and I was invisible, but then they weren’t and I wasn’t!”
Rachel held up her hand to silence him.
“Stop it, Zach. I don’t want to hear any more of this.”
She sounded more disappointed than angry. “Using
magic to spy on Hogan. . . . He’s the new kid. Just like
we both were not so long ago. So don’t go making it any
harder on him than it has to be. That’s not cool.” She
shook her head sadly. “You’re better than this, Zach.”
She spun around and stormed off without anoth-
er word, leaving Zach and Sophie behind in the food
court. Soaking wet and feeling like an idiot, Zach glum-
ly watched Rachel go.
“Well, that went well,” Sophie said.
Chapter 7
The theme of the dance was Country-Western Hoedown,
so the gym’s parquet floors were closed over the built-
in swimming pool and the field house had been trans-
formed into a make-believe ranch, complete with deco-
rative haystacks, horseshoes, and life-size papier-mâché
horses. The horses, which were positioned all around
the gym, had been arts-and-crafts projects at school and
were painted in a variety of colors, some more realistic
than others. A mechanical bull rested atop some pad-
ded wrestling mats. Brightly colored balloons and fancy,
shimmery streamers hung from the ceiling. The refresh-
ment table held chips and veggies with ranch dip (get
it?) and salsa, plus a large plastic punch bowl filled with
fresh lemonade. A painted barn scene, borrowed from
the Drama Club, hung on one wall. Rodeo scenes deco-
rated the paper plates and cups. Even the school mascot
had been given a farm-style makeover—a pair of plush
look more like a miniature bull than a bulldog as he
snoozed on a cozy bed of straw. A campaign poster over
his head read:
Zach wondered who was responsible for the cow-
boy theme—Hogan, Rachel, Principal Riggs, or even
Tricia? He wouldn’t put it past Tricia to devise a plan
to have Hogan show Rachel up on her own turf, as
it were. Even Rachel had said that Hogan was pretty
good at roping calves.
“Just our luck,” Zach grumbled to Aaron. Zach had
dressed in a clip-on tie and button-down shirt along
with his best jeans and sneakers. “It’s like the dance was
deliberately designed to make Hogan look good.”
“You’re not wrong,” his friend agreed. “That guy’s not
wasting any time when it comes to taking over.”
Sure enough, Hogan was already taking advantage of
the western theme to show off some fancy rope tricks.
Wearing a fringed snakeskin jacket, he was twirling a
lasso in the air, while a crowd of students and chap-
erones, including Rachel, oohed and aahed in appre-
ciation. Even Principal Riggs was clapping enthusiasti-
cally—and Principal Riggs never clapped for anything!
Zach barely recognized the principal with a smile on his
face.
Zach had to admit that Hogan’s trick roping was im-
pressive. He twirled the spinning lariat around his body
and jumped back and forth through the loops while
keeping the rope in motion. He did flat loops, vertical
loops, even butterfly loops. It was a live-action rodeo
show. Zach probably would have clapped himself if he
hadn’t known that, deep down inside, Hogan was just
as snakelike as his shiny, scaly jacket.
The boys made their way around the gym, scoping out
the scene before winding up by the refreshment table.
Aaron had brought his cat, Michael, as his “date.” The
fluffy gray feline rested comfortably in a customized
baby sling while Aaron live-streamed the dance with his
camera. Michael waved his paws in time to the music.
Zach sometimes wondered if that cat wasn’t almost half
human.
“So I guess you worked out your creative differences?”
Zach said. “Or is Michael still on hiatus?”
Aaron shrugged. “We’re in negotiations regarding the
tuna issue.”
“Well, just keep your eyes open,” Zach said grimly.
“We’re here to help Rachel, remember?”
“You bet,” Aaron said, as Michael mewed in agree-
ment. “But what exactly are we here to help her with
again?”
“I wish I knew,” Zach admitted. “We just have to be
ready and hope we can spring into action in time to
save her from whatever Hogan and Tricia have up their
sneaky sleeves.”
“And to catch it all on video,” Aaron said.
“Yeah. That, too.”
Zach turned away to watch the scene and to try to
act cool. But a second later, something cold and gooshie
splashed against the back of Zach’s neck. He spun
around to see Aaron loading up a plastic spoon filled
with ranch-flavored dip.
“Hey!” Zach blurted. “Did you just fling some dip at
me?”
“Well, I figured if the ketchup didn’t work, maybe
other condiments would.” He eyed Zach curiously. “So,
you feeling the magic again?”
“No!” Zach took his jacket off and dabbed at the back
of his neck. “All I’m feeling is cold dip under my collar!”
Michael mewed in Aaron’s defense.
“If you want, Michael can lick that off for you,” Aar-
on suggested helpfully. “Might make for a cute video,
especially if you’re ticklish.”
“No thanks!”
A live band, the Buckeye Barn Razors, played coun-
try-rock music, luring the kids out onto the dance floor
for some spirited line dancing. Zach tossed his jacket in
the coat closet, and then he and Aaron chilled by the
refreshments, not daring to leave their vantage point.
Zach had a clear view of Hogan and Rachel, who
seemed to be enjoying dancing together. Zach couldn’t
help noticing that she was looking prettier than ever.
She was wearing a fashionable new dress along with her
usual cowboy boots. Zach kicked himself again for not
asking her when he’d had the chance. That should have
been him dancing with her.
He had tried to warn her about Hogan again when they
had first arrived at the dance, but she had shut him down
before he’d gotten more than a few words out. “Not one
word, Zach King,” she’d said, obviously still upset with
him. “Don’t even think about trying to spoil tonight for
me. I just want to have a good time—got that?”
Zach cringed at the memory as he spotted Tricia danc-
ing nearby. She was wearing a rhinestone-studded dress,
and her glittery cowboy hat was more sparkly than a
tiara. She was with one of her favorite stooges, a beefy
lunkhead named Lenny, who Tricia often enlisted when
she needed help carrying out her mean schemes.
But Zach wasn’t going to let Tricia prank Rachel
tonight, no matter what she and Hogan might have
planned.
Not on my watch, Zach vowed, downing a cup of lem-
onade in one gulp. No, not on my watch.
Rachel spotted Zach and Aaron (and Michael) over by
the refreshments. She was kind of surprised that either
of them had showed up for the dance, since it wasn’t re-
ally Aaron’s thing, and as for Zach . . . well, she hoped
he wasn’t going to make a scene. With Hogan.
I can look out for myself, she thought, thank you very
much.
So far the only thing Hogan was guilty of was being
a nice guy and a surprisingly good dancer. Still, Rachel
felt bad about how she had left things with Zach. Maybe
she should swing by and say hi—just to patch things up?
“Having a good time?” Hogan asked as he sidled up
next to her. He had to raise his voice to be heard over
the boisterous honky-tonk music. His accent seemed to
get thicker on purpose. “I’m sure this isn’t as exciting as
wrasslin’ gators, but . . .”
Rachel laughed and realized she couldn’t think of an-
other thing to say.
Thankfully, the song ended and the first dance began.
Hogan guided Rachel toward the center of the dance
floor as they moved along with the music. Rachel no-
ticed Tricia dancing nearby. She seemed to be watching
them carefully—almost too carefully. For a moment,
Rachel worried that Tricia had a crush on Hogan and
that she was getting in the middle.
But just then the dance floor slid out from beneath her
feet, and Rachel tumbled backward as the swimming
pool opened up beneath it.
SPLASH!
As she plunged into the overchlorinated water, she in-
stantly grasped what was happening. Somebody must
have accidentally triggered the floor controls, exposing
the swimming pool under the gym floor.
But that wasn’t the worst part.
“Help!” Rachel cried out in alarm. “I can’t swim!”
She was a cowgirl, not a surfer chick, and with all her
other activities, she’d just never bothered to learn how
to swim.
“Help me!” she shrieked, on the verge of panic. “Some-
body!” A few other kids fell in, but they all swam easily
to safety. She was the only one flailing about. She was
the only one screaming for help.
“Hang on, Rachel!” Zach shouted. “I’m coming for
you!”
But before he could dive in to the rescue, Tricia shoved
past him and hurled the business end of a lasso toward
Rachel, who grabbed onto it for dear life.
“Hang on, Rachel. Don’t let go!” Tricia yelled down
as she pulled Rachel in to safety.
“Not a chance,” Rachel sputtered, coughing up water.
It stung to be saved by Tricia, of all people, but sinkers
couldn’t be choosers. She clung to the lasso as Hogan
came over and helped Tricia pull her to safety.
But how had this happened, anyway?
Zach watched in dismay as Hogan helped Tricia pull
Rachel out of the pool. The floor had stopped retracting.
Somebody must have managed to get to the controls.
Rachel looked like a drowned rat as she clambered up
onto the gym floor, hacking and coughing up water. Her
hair and dress were soaked through, and she was shiv-
ering like a leaf, from the cold or the shock or both. All
around the gym, people stopped to gawk at her. Zach
started forward to help her, but Hogan beat him to it.
“Here,” Hogan said. “Take my jacket.”
He draped his snakeskin jacket over Rachel’s trem-
bling shoulders.
“Afraid of the water, are we?” Tricia smirked. “Good
thing I could lend a helping hand.”
Mortified, Rachel looked like she wanted to turn invisi-
ble herself. Her teeth chattered as she mumbled weakly, “I
just never got the hang of swimming, that’s all.”
Personally, Zach didn’t think that was such a big deal,
but he knew that everybody else in school expected Ra-
chel to be fearless. Having to be rescued by Tricia didn’t
look good.
Principal Riggs barged over to check on things. “Some-
body get the pool closed . . . pronto!” He looked Rachel
over with concern. “Are you all right, Miss Holm?”
“I’m okay,” Rachel said, nodding. “Just a little cold
and wet. . . .”
“Thanks to Miss Stands here,” Riggs congratulated
Tricia. “I was impressed by your quick thinking and re-
sourcefulness. You kept your cool in a crisis and may
have even saved your classmate from drowning. A com-
mendable job.”
“Well, it was the least I could do,” Tricia said, “for
poor, helpless Rachel.”
Applause broke out, with Hogan clapping first and
loudest. Pretty soon, the entire gym was cheering for the
new hero of the hour: Tricia Stands.
“No, no,” Tricia said, feigning modesty. “Rachel was
in way over her head. Who am I to say that I’m the real
hero?”
“That was it!” Zach realized. “That’s what they were
planning all along. Rachel’s rep for being the bravest and
coolest girl in school gets torpedoed, and Tricia looks
like a hero.” Zach shook his head in disgust. “She’s go-
ing to be elected class president for sure.”
“But what can we do about it now?” Aaron asked.
“We figured it out too late. Tricia and Hogan have al-
ready won. We can’t turn back time.”
Zach smiled as a crazy idea occurred to him. He
clapped Aaron on the back. “Or maybe we can.”
“Maybe we can what?” Aaron asked.
“Turn back time.”
Chapter 8
“Darn it,” Mr. King said. “I burned the toast again.”
It was the morning after the dance, and the Kings were
having breakfast at home. Zach and Sophie and their
parents milled about the kitchen. The smell of charred
bread polluted the atmosphere, threatening to set off the
smoke detector on the ceiling.
“I keep telling you we need to get a new toaster,”
Mrs. King said. “But in the meantime, maybe you can
unburn it?”
“Certainly.” Mr. King put the blackened bread back
into the toaster and fiddled with his old-fashioned wrist
watch, an antique bronze timepiece with a nearly faded
engraving of an eagle at its center. His fingers gripped a
tiny dial on the watch. “Let’s just turn back the clock a
few moments.”
Zach watched as his father used the magic watch to
reverse time and undo the last few minutes. A familiar
sensation like static electricity gave Zach goose bumps
as time flowed backward and the toast “unburned.”
“There, that should do it.” Mr. King plucked two