Author's Notes: Let's see if you can spot at least 2 references in the fanfic. Let me know what you think they are.
And, as always, reviews are much appreciated!
(Matilda's POV):
I sit outside on my doorstep, waiting for the guests to arrive. It's a bit too early for the party, but I've got some early-comers. The cool air brushes against the birthday dress mom insisted on me wearing. Too frilly and pink for my taste, to be perfectly honest.
The heels of my black birthday shoes (also thanks to mom) click against the front stoop as I sit waiting. All the while, I keep thinking about ways to make sure Veruca doesn't spend the night at my house. Maybe add some nutmeg to her food? Veruca's terribly allergic, apparently.
"But I don't know if I want to potentially kill her," I sigh.
At that moment, three pairs of footsteps echo against the walkway up to the front stoop. I look up and smile as I see Charlie, James, and Sophie make their way over. In each of their hands is a package or gift bag.
"Thank goodness you're here. I need your help," I tell them as I stand up.
"With what?" Charlie asks as they set down the packages.
"Probably that dress," James snickers.
I glare at him in rage.
"I didn't choose to wear this," I growl.
"Well you did choose to get laughed at."
I give him a good punch in the shoulder.
"Ow! What was that for?"
"You chose to be a dodo," I retort.
"Anyway, my mom invited my bratty cousin Veruca to spend the night and I need your help to figure out how to make sure she doesn't. Without potentially killing her," I add as James begins to open his mouth. He knows about her supposed nutmeg allergy as well.
"Maybe we could add just a small portion of what's considered deadly," James suggests.
"Plus Veruca wouldn't pass up any opportunity to outshine you unless she was sick."
"True, and think of what she's done to me."
"I don't know. This doesn't seem safe," Charlie hesitates.
"On top of that, even if we were to go with the nutmeg, we don't know how much would kill her and how much would just make her sick."
"Good point," I groan.
I ponder this for a moment.
"Why not check the library?" Sophie suggests.
"I'm sure they have a book on allergies and such."
I look at her in shock. Sophie, being the good girl of Mr. Turkentine's class, would be the last person I'd ever think to even make a suggestion that would help a plot like this.
"If you do some research, you can avoid potentially killing her," she adds.
"Oh. That makes much more sense," I say.
"Come on!"
We race to the library in five minutes flat.
"But what about the party?" Charlie inquires.
"The party doesn't start for an hour. We can be back in plenty of time."
We march up to the reception desk.
"Excuse me. Where's the revenge section?" James trumpets to the librarian who has her face drilled into a book.
A sudden chorus hushes us. Blushing red, I give him a hard nudge on the shoulder.
"We need a book on allergies; one on how much of what is deadly and such," I whisper.
The librarian slams her book down (cue chorus of shushing.) and I have to keep myself from cringing. Her nose looks needle sharp at the end. What's left of her eyes squints at the four of us. The mouth nearly scream strict.
"Are you planning to...kill someone?" she asks in a slightly-nasally voice.
Timidly we shake our heads. Slowly she stands up, turning into a tower. I begin to feel myself shrink again. She inhales our air and then exhale a wind tunnel. You can literally see the nose hairs be sucked into her nostrils and then shoot back out again.
"Second bookcase on the right. Second shelf from the top. Look for a large, brown book," she says slowly without flinching.
Frightened, we run to the shelf.
"Where's the shelf?" James asks.
"She said second from the top," I remind him.
"Well, then look up," Sophie suggests.
We look all around, until-
"You might want to look further up," Charlie pipes up.
The three of us crane our necks upward to find the second-to-top shelf. I almost manage to fall back. Sticking out, almost as though it will fall over is a large, brown book.
"Well, there's only one thing to do," James says glancing at me.
"I am not letting you stand on my shoulders," I tell him.
His eyes look defeated.
"Why don't we just ask the librarian?" Sophie suggests.
"You mean the creepy one at the front desk? No way. I have a better idea."
I back up a little and signal for the three of them to clear the way. Then I ram into the case. It shakes quite violently and pushes the book forward. I repeat this two more times. On the third, the book falls from the top shelf; so do fifty others.
"What was that?" we hear the librarian rasp angrily.
My heart jumps in my chest.
"What do we do?" Charlie whispers in a panic.
"Make a break for the exit?" James suggests.
"But there's an alarm system. We need to get the book scanned," Sophie reminds us (Of course she'd be the one to bring THAT little detail up.).
I hear the librarian's footsteps pound on the floor and my blood rushes through my veins.
"You three get out first. I'll scan the book and make a break for it," I say.
"But what if she catches you?" Charlie asks.
"Better me than you lot. Now go. I'll meet you outside."
The three of them rush to the exit as I make a break for the circulation desk. Quickly I find the barcode and scan the book.
"You!" The librarian hisses as she spots me.
The color drains quickly from my face as the hushes bounce around. In a panic, I make a break for the exit; leaving the librarian in her rage, the four of us dash back to my house.