This choice: Accept the Wizard's offer; anything to get back to normal! • Go Back... Reluctantly, you take the diary from the Wizard's outstretched hand.
"All right," you say. "If it means I can get my own body back, I'll do it."
As soon as the white book slips from the old man's hand, the mall suddenly springs back to life. People are talking, shouting, and carrying on as if time hadn't just been frozen by a crazy old man disguised as a Pretzel Palace manager. Meanwhile, the wizard himself is nowhere to be seen, seeming to have popped out of existence the moment he released the diary.
Maneuvering to an unoccupied table in the food court, you crack open the diary and begin reading. A lot of it is mind-numbingly dull:
...Mr. Welles returned our papers on Magical Realism today. As usual, he requested permission to use mine as the example for next year's pupils. I'm thinking of asking him to write one of the instructor recommendation letters for my college applications. For the other, I can't decide between…
...Is my voice really that high? That Ashton girl called it "squeaky!" I'm not squeaky, am I? I'm certain I would have noticed something like that. At the very least, someone would have told me, wouldn't they? What does she know? Just because she's had years of vocal training doesn't mean everyone else is…
That kind of thing went on for pages at times, and didn't really help you in identifying "dreams and aspirations." Equally irrelevant—but much more interesting—were her occasional references to you. Unfortunately, they weren't always flattering:
...I caught Elliot staring at my boobs again today. I think he's planning on asking me to the spring formal. Why doesn't he ask that Kate girl he's always talking about? 'Kate and I used to do this; Kate and I always did that.' I don't know what I'll do if he does ask. He's a good friend, but he can't seem to take the hint that I'm not interested in him that way. Then again, who else is likely to ask me? It's not as if Andrew's ever going to notice me. Maybe I should just go with Elliot—I'll just have to make it clear that we'd be going as friends and nothing more. How hard can that be? I just hope…
...Elliot wanted me to come help him study for history again tonight—I lied and told him I was visiting my aunt. I like hanging out with Elliot, but when it comes to revision I don't think he even really tries. Maybe if he has to suffer through this test on his own he'll finally start to put a little effort into his schoolwork…
However, here and there you did manage to come across a couple of nuggets that look like the sort of thing the wizard meant:
...Why do those yearbook girls have to bounce around all day taking pictures of everyone but me? Don't they have classes to attend? It's not like I'm mean to anyone. Kyle, Matthew and Elliot all seem to like me—why am I so invisible to everyone else? It's not like I'm especially quiet; I participate in class discussions all the time. So why is it that as soon as the bell rings it's like I no longer exist? Why doesn't anyone notice me? For the past…
...I saw Ashton flirting with Andrew again today. How am I supposed to compete with that? Ashton's hair looks like something out of a Disney cartoon, always falling in perfect little red waves, never a strand out of place. He probably doesn't even know my name…
...Deferred! I can't believe they deferred me! I scored perfectly on the SAT—what more do they want? I talked to Mr. Welles about it, and he suggested that the admissions office may be looking for more 'well-rounded' applicants. Apparently the ability to put a ball through a hoop is as important as twelve years of practically perfect grades. I suppose that's not quite fair; Mr. Welles says it doesn't have to be a sports team—other clubs would qualify as well. Even so, it's not right for an institution that claims to be focused on academic…
That particular rant goes on for several pages. Leaning back in your chair, you ponder what to do next. The wizard's task certainly wouldn't be easy—Penelope's concerns seem fairly typical of a high school girl and to be honest you're probably even less qualified to tackle them than she was; if indeed they are achievable at all. Popularity, an Ivy League college, romance; why couldn't Penelope have aspired to play videogames or something? Still, it's your only shot, so it will just have to do. The question is—where to start?
You're hardly an expert in teenage girl drama, but after some brainstorming you do manage to come up with two possible courses of action. First, you figure many of Penelope's social issues are tied to her geeky image. Made-for-TV teen comedies suggest if you can shed that, you'll be one of the cool kids in no time. They also suggest that along the way you'll learn important lessons about the meaning of friendship or something equally trite, but that wasn't on Penelope's list and is therefore irrelevant to getting your body back.
On the other hand, you could just follow through with what Penelope apparently already had planned—you could join an after-school club in order to diversify her transcript. Surely getting accepted to a good college was more important in the long run than dates and peer pressure, right?
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