Even a magical clover can’t make adolescence any easier.
Sporty Kate Malone has a powerful ally, full access to a magical clover field. At thirteen, the ability to manifest a pair of designer jeans, an A on a math test, and best yet, a first boyfriend have never been more opportune. Yet Kate’s desire to be popular outweighs the prudent decision to keep her clover field a secret, and she jeopardizes both her popularity and her belief system. Then, in an instant, worrying about sitting at the “cool table” at lunch is overshadowed by tragedy. Kate strays into a teenage world that is tempting and destructive. Will Kate sabotage her soccer aspirations and friendships? Can she use the power of the clover to save herself?
“Damage control.” It’s all I can say to Madi who is in the eye of the storm. The wall posts are appearing lightning quick and it occurs to Madi and me that we cannot do anything about it. Morgan arrived for moral support.
“Ugh.” Madi falls back onto my bed with the weight of our teenage world on her shoulders.
“The picture; I guess you can tell that it’s us?” I ask. It’s a statement and question at the same time.
“Thank goodness it was cold outside and our breath steamed up the window a bit. It really could be argued that it isn’t us,” Madi suggests.
“Yeah, in a court of law but not on Facebook; she’s tagged us and everything.”
“I never should have sent out that group text,” Madi says.
“Well, who knew it wasn’t a real tattoo? She played it up like it was.”
“Still, I shouldn’t have said anything. Devyn is ruthless.”
“No kidding. Calling us Pollyanna’s and voyeurs and, what else did she call us?”
“Peeping Toms,” Madi reminded me.
“Yeah, right, just great; how can we be Pollyanna’s and Peeping Toms?”
“Kate, this isn’t the time to be logical. Do we answer back?”
“Oh, I don’t think so.” I think of my dad who rarely has a knee-jerk reaction and it seems to work out for him. “So, we look stupid for a day or two, it’ll blow over. She’ll find another way to get attention,” I insist.
“Well, thank goodness we don’t have school until January. I would probably have to transfer,” Madi says, half joking.
“Okay, now you’re getting dramatic. Don’t lower yourself to Devyn the Drama Queen’s level,” I tell her.
“Easy for you to say; you’re just an accomplice.”
“What’s up with the Monarch Butterfly anyway?” Morgan pipes up.
“I dunno. It was ugly for a butterfly” I say.
“She should have chosen a bee for ‘Queen Bee’,” Madi offers bitterly.
Morgan swipes her phone and bursts out laughing, “No way, get this….”
“What?” we say in tandem.
“I Googled ‘Monarch Butterfly’ and guess what it says?”
“What?” we say with urgency.
“It basically says that the Monarch Butterfly essentially has no brain! Its brain is microscopic. And guess what else? As creatures they are repelled by humans!”
This time Madi falls back onto the bed laughing and I belly laugh my summary, “So, Devyn’s tattoo is a brainless creature that doesn’t like humans? How fitting!”
Kimberly Foster earned degrees from UCLA and the University of Washington, although she admits her formal education was no substitute for real-life experience. As a mother of teenage girls, a proficient carpool listener and passionate storyteller, Kimberly offers her first young adult novel. She lives in Bellevue, Washington.
Please visit her at www.kimberlymfoster.com.