Asking for Trouble: 1 (London Confidential) (6 page)

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Authors: Sandra Byrd

Tags: #JUVENILE FICTION / Religious / Christian

BOOK: Asking for Trouble: 1 (London Confidential)
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Chapter 12

“I’m home,” I called out as I walked in the door after school and threw my book bag into the corner. Growl came running around the corner. He had a piece of paper stuck to one of his teeth, and when I got close to him, I noticed he smelled like vanilla body mist. “What have you been into?” I asked, and then, realizing what kind of paper was stuck in his teeth, ran up the stairs.

“Ooh, you little mutt!” I surveyed my room. He’d shredded almost all my magazines into pieces and apparently had rolled in the perfume samples. He barked at me once as if to say, “I win!” before he ran back down the stairs.

My mom came into the room. “What happened here? You haven’t been home long enough to make a mess,” she said.

“Not me,” I grumbled before pointing at the dog. “It!”

“How did the newspaper meeting go?”

“They did invite me on staff.”
As the delivery girl,
I added silently. But I couldn’t disappoint her yet. She’d been hopeful for the first time in weeks, thinking that both her girls were settling in.
I’ll come up with something,
I thought, knowing in my heart that I was wading deeper into the swamp.

“Wonderful, honey!” She brushed my hair back away from my face with her hands and gave my cheek a kiss.

“The editor is calling later tonight with some information for me.”

Mom nodded. “I’m proud of you. And you gave me a good example. You’ll be glad to know I made an effort to make a friend too. I talked with the next-door neighbor lady today—you know, Vivienne? She mentioned her book club, and I told her I love to read and would enjoy meeting with them sometime. She smiled at me but didn’t really ask me to join them. Maybe she just has to speak with the others first. She’ll probably come over soon with an invitation.”

I nodded and kicked a magazine remnant on the floor.
That dog. All my
Teen Vogues
. And a
Sweet 16.

“I’m going to start dinner and help Louanne with her homework.” Mom headed for the door. “What are you going to do?”

“Nothing. Hang out,” I said. “Homework.”

She nodded and closed the door behind her. I picked up all the paper scraps from the floor and threw them into the garbage can, er, dustbin. I looked at my watch.
Wonder what time Jack will call. Before dinner? After?

To distract myself, I yanked my guitar case from under my bed, took the guitar out, and started strumming a Taylor Swift song I’d been working on. Playing music always made me feel better. Within the minute, Growl started whining outside my closed door. I stopped playing, and he stopped whining. I started again, and he started in again too. Finally I got out my amp and plugged in the guitar. I played louder. Growl moved from whine to howl. I turned the amp up and started singing louder.

Whose house was this anyway?

I heard the doorbell ring. Funny. We never had company. Aunt Maude? I opened my door and hid behind the railing so I could hear but not be seen.

“Hello, Vivienne!” I could hear the pleasure in Mom’s voice. “I’m so pleased to see you. Would you like to come in?”

Please, God,
I prayed,
let Vivienne invite Mom to the book club.

“No thanks. I’ll just be a minute. I—I wanted to tell you that, well, in this neighborhood, sound travels. Especially when we share a wall. That kind of racket—terribly sorry to inconvenience you—but we can hear it in every room at my house.”

“I apologize. We just got the dog a few weeks ago—he was a stray who took a liking to my daughter. I’ll see if we can keep him quiet.”

I stood a few feet away, hidden by the staircase, steaming.
Is this dog going to ruin everything?

“I don’t mean the dog, of course,” Vivienne said. “Dogs are fine. I meant that very loud guitar and . . . ah . . . the
singing
that accompanied it.”

She didn’t mind the dog howling, but she minded
me
?

“Oh, well, we’re sorry. I’ll speak with my daughter, and we’ll keep it quiet.”

There was a long-drawn-out silence.

“Is there anything else?” Mom spoke up hopefully.

“No, nothing,” Vivienne said.

As I came down the stairs, Mom shut the door behind her and stood there for a minute, her eyes downcast and the tiny wrinkle on her forehead deeper than it had been for a while.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” I said, coming over to her.

“Oh, pshaw.” She waved me away. “Your music wasn’t that loud. Still, no amp from now on.”

“I mean I’m sorry she didn’t say anything about the book club.”

“Yes,” Mom said softly. “Me too.”

I went back to my room and checked my phone again. No message from Jack. No missed calls. I wished he’d call or text.

I’d decided what I was going to do.

Chapter 13

All through dinner I kept looking at the clock. I mean, didn’t he say he’d call today? Maybe he’d found someone else. Great. I’d been turned down for not only the writing job but the delivery job too.

After dinner Dad went to work on the computer while Mom washed the dishes by hand. I was halfway up the stairs when the doorbell rang. Louanne’s hand reached out and grabbed the dog by the collar. “Stay, Giggle!” she commanded. And he did.

“I’ll get it,” I said. I opened the door. “Jack!” I was hoping to hide the shock in my voice and on my face.

“Hullo, Savvy.” His face was flushed and his eyes brighter than usual. “Sorry I’m a bit late. Autumn rugby, you know.”

“Oh, no problem. I’d just expected you to call, not visit, that’s all.”

He held out a piece of paper. “I had planned to ring you up, but you wrote down your address, not your phone number.”

I felt my neck go hot. I’d been so distracted this morning. “I’m sorry!” I said, but I didn’t invite him in, though I knew it would have been polite to do so. First, I was worried that Louanne couldn’t keep her grip on the dog’s collar. Second, I didn’t want him to say anything about
delivering
, rather than
writing for
, the paper.

“I—I’ve decided to deliver the papers,” I said, holding my head high. I supposed it wouldn’t be the end of the world to be known as Paper Delivery Girl. Maybe ten feet from the end of the world, but not exactly the end of the world.

He smiled that smile just for me, and for that moment everything seemed okay and worthwhile.

“I’m so glad—I was hoping you’d say that. I brought this, just in case.” He handed over a laminated map. “It shows all the drop-offs for the Wexburg Academy
Times
. If you start between seven and half seven you should get them all out before first bell.”

I took the list and map from his hand.

“And here’s this, too.” Jack handed over a large, yellowed linen bag. It had a few ink stains inside and out. “You didn’t seem to want to use the wagon. You can put the papers in here.”

I looked at the bag. It had a distinct odor, perhaps like cheese that had been left in the back of the refrigerator for a few months. I knew I didn’t want to smell like that all day after carrying the bag. “Thank you,” I said, clenching it up into a little ball so I could sneak it into the house.

“No, thank
you
,” Jack said. “I’m so glad you’re willing to help—to do whatever we need. It’s that kind of attitude that really makes a team brilliant. Be sure to sit with us at lunch tomorrow . . . okay?” He flashed that smile, and the grotty delivery bag was momentarily forgotten.

“I will.”

He grinned and turned to leave. After he’d made it down our front steps and a few feet away, I heard Louanne yell, “Giggle! Come!”

This time Giggle didn’t obey. Instead, he bolted down the hall, past me, and out the front door, teeth bared. Thankfully, he stopped at the foot of our stairs.

“Come
here
, boy,” I shouted into the dark. “Now!”

Giggle turned and silently ran into the house, obeying me for the first time ever. However, I was horrified to see Jack stop walking and then turn and look at me.

“Were you talking to
me
?” he asked.

Apparently Jack hadn’t seen the dog in the dark.

“Oh no,” I said quickly. “I was talking to my sister’s dog.”

He looked around for evidence of the dog, which, of course, had disappeared. “Oh. All right then. See you tomorrow.” He turned and continued down the street.

I slunk into the house, shut the door behind me, and buried my hot face deep into the balled-up newspaper delivery sack.

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