Gabby Duran and the Unsittables (9 page)

Gabby blushed. “I’m so sorry.” She pushed herself off the seat and onto the floor. She wanted to look Wutt in the eye and apologize to her directly, but she wasn’t sure
which part of the pillow was the girl’s face. Or even her head. She opted for an area near the corner Edwina had patted and leaned in close.

“Hi, Wutt. I’m Gabby. I’m so sorry I scared you. I didn’t even realize you were here, and then you popped out and screamed like that…I guess it kind of took me by
surprise.”

“Took you by surprise?” Edwina sniffed. “Of course she screamed. You might scream, too, if someone hollered your name into your face.”

“Hollered her…?” Gabby replayed the moment in her mind and realized she’d done just that. Her face grew even redder until it matched Wutt’s curls. Or what would have
been Wutt’s curls if the girl weren’t currently slipcovered.

“Can we start over?” Gabby asked the pillow. “I’m Gabby Duran, and I’m really happy to meet you. I even have something you might like. Want to see?”

The pillow didn’t respond, but Gabby pulled over her purple knapsack anyway and dug around for one of the tiny treasures she always kept on hand, just in case. She found a pink pencil-top
eraser decorated to look like a puppy.

“See?” Gabby showed the pillow. “It’s an eraser, but I glued on little google eyes and a tiny bead nose and little felt ears. He can still rub away pencil marks, but
he’s also a pet, and
also
…” She slipped the eraser on the tip of her pinkie. She waggled the finger as she continued in a deep doggy voice, “I’m a happy puppy
puppet! I’m lots of things—kinda like you!”

Giggles erupted as the pillow unfolded itself back into a little girl. Wutt still hid behind Edwina’s bag, but she was smiling now, and her large eyes danced.

“Hi, Wutt,” Gabby said in her regular voice.

“What?”

“I said…Oh, wait—you were just repeating your name, weren’t you?”

“Wutt,” the little girl said happily. She climbed into Gabby’s lap, then took the eraser pet off Gabby’s pinkie tip and slipped it onto her own. It rode halfway down her
finger.

Gabby was entranced watching Wutt play. The little girl was no bigger than a lawn gnome. Her red curls flowed all the way down to her rear end. The eyes Gabby thought earlier had popped wide in
surprise really did take up half her face. Their long ovals were filled with endless shiny blackness. Her nose was tiny, barely more than twin paper cuts. Her skin was blue, with thin, darker blue
lips that smiled happily as she played with the makeshift finger puppet. Her turquoise gums were unmarred by a single tooth.

She was adorable.

“So, Wutt,” Gabby said gently, “you know how I said your name really, really loud before? That was just because I thought Edwina said I was babysitting you
today
. But I
must have just misunderstood her. You see, she once told me she knows my schedule, which means she knows I’m way too busy to babysit today.”

“Did you know, Wutt, that one of the surest signs of an underdeveloped civilization is when its members pretend to talk to one creature when their message is pointedly designed for
another?” Edwina asked.

Gabby blushed yet again, then looked directly at Edwina. “I can’t babysit Wutt today,” she said. “I’m too bu—”

“Repeating yourself is just a waste of energy,” Edwina said. “I
did
hear you.” She consulted her tablet and swiped a few screens. “It’s nine forty-five
now, but we’ll start your clock at nine
A
.
M
. You’ll keep Wutt until midnight.”

“Wha—?!”
Gabby nearly exploded, but caught herself when the girl gave her a furrowed-brow look. Instead she smiled at the child and waved, then scooched along the car
floor closer to Edwina and hissed up at her, “My bedtime’s eleven on Friday nights.”

“We’ll pick her up, you won’t need to worry about that….”

“I’m in school all day. I have class. I should be in class
right now
.”

“Have her eat when you eat, that’ll be fine. Anything should do. Just remember, she is gloogen-free.”

“And right after school I have my concert with my possible solo and—Did you mean gluten-free?”

“Gloogen,” Edwina affirmed. “Nasty little buggers from Sector 358.7. Pulverized for cheap protein by the laziest alien chefs.”

Edwina shuddered, but Gabby laughed. “Don’t worry,” she told Edwina. “Chef Ernie might be lazy, but he’s not an alien.”

Edwina looked at Gabby meaningfully.

“Is he?” Gabby asked.

“Gloogen-free,” Edwina reiterated. “And don’t let her anywhere near broccolini. All that vitamin J. You know how it is. Hy-per.”

“Vitamin…J?” Gabby asked. “Is that real?”

“Now I don’t expect you to have any problems,” Edwina continued, “but if you do, just keep in mind that Wutt is tenth in line to the throne of Flarknartia, a stunningly
peaceful planet that has kept its harmonious place in the galaxy by following the old adage, ‘If they knock down our tree, we knock down their forest. If they take over our city, we take over
their continent. If they harm a hair on the head of the tenth in line to the throne, we explode their planet into tiny bits.’”

“I’m sorry—what?” Gabby gawped.

“Wutt?” the alien girl looked up in response.

“Exactly,” Edwina said. “So that’s that, then.” She returned her tablet to her bag.

“When you say ‘explode their planet into tiny bits,’” Gabby asked, “that’s a euphemism, right?”

“Absolutely,” Edwina replied. “We’d be blown into something far more like intergalactic dust. Out you go, then. I’ll see you at midnight. Ready to go with Gabby,
Wutt?”

Wutt looked up at Edwina as if the woman had just offered her a giant ice-cream sundae, perhaps one topped with broccolini. She squealed with delight, then leaped up and threw herself onto
Gabby, attaching herself to the front of Gabby’s fancy white blouse like a small baby gorilla.

“Wait, Edwina,” Gabby said, “I’ve been trying to tell you. I have school today. I have a concert this afternoon. I’m not free.”

“I hardly expect you to work for free, Gabby. I thought we’d established that.”

“That’s not what I mean. Even if I could keep Wutt with me, how could I keep her a secret?” Gabby put her hands over the little girl’s ears. Or at least, she covered the
spots on the sides of her head where her ears would be if they were oriented like a human being’s. “She’s wonderful, but she doesn’t exactly blend in.”

“You’d be surprised,” Edwina said.

The back door of the limousine opened of its own volition.

“Go,” Edwina said. “I have complete faith in you. And lovely homes on several outlying galaxies if things go terribly awry.”

Gabby sighed heavily, then climbed out of the limousine, Wutt still clinging to her front. Yet the minute Gabby stood, she felt the girl release her grip. Instinctively, Gabby reached out to
catch her…but what landed in her hands was a brown paper bag–covered textbook. The word
MATH
was inked on the front in big curlicue letters. Surrounding that, also in multicolored swirls,
were a myriad of designs, inside jokes, and craftily hidden initials of particularly adorable middle school boys.

In short, it looked like any other sixth-grade girl’s schoolbook.

“Wutt?” Gabby asked the book.

In answer, it lifted its cover several times and riffled its own pages. Gabby almost thought she could hear Wutt’s giggle, though it might have just been the
fwit-fwit-fwit
of the
paper.

Edwina was right. Gabby
was
surprised. She looked up to tell her so and was far less surprised to discover that the limousine had already disappeared.

G
abby walked back toward the school slowly, staring down at the apparent math book in her hands.

“Normally, I put books in my knapsack,” she mused to Wutt, “but with you that kind of feels wrong. Could you even breathe in there? Or maybe when you turn into something
you’re pretty much just like that thing, so breathing isn’t really an issue. Or maybe breathing isn’t an issue for you anyway. You know what, Wutt? When we get some time,
I’d love to learn all about your planet.”

“Are you talking to your math book?”

Disgust dripped from the all-too-familiar voice, and Gabby looked up to see Madison Murray right in front of her. Madison also wore concert dress, but her black skirt and white ruffled blouse
looked so impeccable it made Gabby feel small and rumpled. Madison’s arms were folded and her mouth curled, and Gabby found it highly annoying that even like that, she still looked really
pretty.

“Talking to my math book?” Gabby laughed. “No! That would be ridiculous. More than ridiculous. Ridonculaciallous.”

“That’s not a word,” Madison said. She pulled a small notebook and a pen from the purse slung over her shoulder. “I’m afraid as second period hall monitor
it’s my duty to write you up. One slip for loitering in the halls during class time, one for disturbing the peace by talking out loud to your textbook, and one for massacring the English
language.” Madison efficiently ripped off all three sheets, then handed them to Gabby. “I’ll escort you to class to make sure you share these with your teacher. I do hope you
don’t get after-school detention. That would keep you away from the concert, and you can’t possibly play a solo at a concert you don’t even attend.”

Madison’s smug look made it very clear that she would
love
it if Gabby got detention.

“You really don’t have to walk me to class, Madison. I promise I’ll show Ms. Wilkins the notes.”

“Citations,” Madison clarified. “And of course I’ll walk you. It’s my duty.”

Madison clip-clopped down the hall on low heels that matched her skirt and looked far more formal than Gabby’s own black canvas sneakers. For Wutt’s protection and her own sanity,
Gabby stayed two steps behind Madison and willed Wutt to remain still.

Yet the longer Wutt
did
stay still, the more Gabby worried.
Should
the girl be flipping her pages? Was she all right? Did she need anything?

Gabby fell back a couple more steps and held the book to her mouth. “You okay, Wutt?” she whispered. “If you are, give your pages a little flutter.”

Madison wheeled around as they arrived at Gabby’s class…and saw Gabby with her lips pressed to the math book. Madison’s eyes narrowed, and she again pulled out the notebook and
pen. She scribbled a note, then ripped it off the pad and handed it to Gabby.

“‘Citation for Inappropriate Public Display of Affection with a Textbook,’” Gabby read. “Is that even a thing?”

Madison pulled open the classroom door and cleared her throat loudly. Gabby’s entire science class turned in their seats and stared. Satchel waved.

“Yes?” Ms. Wilkins’s eyes bugged behind her glasses. “Bugged” was a general theme for Ms. Wilkins. In addition to the thick lenses that magnified her eyes and the
endless creatures buzzing around the room’s apiaries, ant farms, and terrariums, she always wore bug-themed clothing and jewelry. Today’s theme was apparently cockroach.

“Ms. Wilkins,” Madison said officiously, “since Gabby Duran is fifteen minutes late, I have delivered her to you personally, along with multiple citations for ill behavior in
the halls. Gabby?”

Gabby held out the sheets of paper. Ms. Wilkins took them and crumpled them into a small ball. “Thank you so much, Madison,” she chirped, “but I already received written
permission for Gabby to arrive late.” She tossed the citations in the trash.

Gabby would have enjoyed Madison’s drop-jawed horror more if she had any idea how it happened. How did she get written permission to be late?

Ms. Wilkins leaned in close. “That was so kind of you to run to the flower store and have a bouquet sent to the hospital. I do hope your aunt Edwina gets better soon.”

Gabby smiled. “Thank you. Yes, I hope so, too.”

Now
she could enjoy Madison’s drop-jawed horror. At least for the two seconds before Madison turned and clip-clopped out of the room. Apparently, there were some side benefits to
working for a secret government agency.

As it turned out, Gabby had arrived in science class just in time for a streaming video called
What Bugged the Dinosaurs: Exploring Mesozoic Insects.
Once the lights were out and everyone
was either watching or pretending to watch while they snuck in texts, a chapter or two of a novel, or homework for other classes, Gabby cuddled Wutt-the-math-book against her chest,
positioned—she hoped—so the little girl could enjoy the show and learn a little something about her adoptive planet.

The video ended at the same time the bell rang. Gabby tossed her knapsack over her shoulder, curled Wutt gently in the crook of her arm, and fell into step next to Satchel. As a percussionist,
he was in concert dress too. He walked a little stiffly, constricted by the pressed black pants and button-down white starched shirt.

“How come you’re holding the book?” he asked.

“You mean, ‘
Wutt
’s the book in my arms?’” Gabby teased.

“I know it’s a book,” Satchel said. “I just wondered why it’s not in your bag.”