My New Best Friend (10 page)

"Wow," I say. "Only you're grounded so you should probably go back home, right? Before your grandma wakes up?"

"Probably," Stacey says. "Only I thought it would be fun to do something together
first.
Just the two of us!" Stacey's eyes go all wide and hopeful.

"But—," I start to say.

"Let's go to your house!" Stacey jumps up. "And play in your attic!"

"My mom's teaching piano lessons today," I say. "And it would be a major
catastrophe
if she caught us sneaking around. Trust me."

"If we go in through the back door she won't see us," Stacey says.

I fidget a little. "I promised I wouldn't sneak around anymore and if we get caught—"

"We won't get caught," Stacey says. "Remember? The mermaid?"

"Oh, yeah," I mumble and fidget some more. "I forgot."

"Just for a little while.
Please?
I'm going crazy stuck at home."

I sigh. And nod.

Stacey gives my arm a friendly squeeze. "Quick! Follow me!"

Stacey sneak-runs to another tree, then to a birdbath, and then to a parked car. She crouches behind the car and waves me in.

I get ready to follow her, but before I take off I glance back at Jenna's house.

Jenna is standing on her front porch, looking right at me.

I gulp and glance at Stacey. Her feet disappear around the side of the car.

I look back at Jenna and wait for her to start yelling. I think about Mr. Drews coming out onto the porch to see what all the yelling is about. And Jenna telling him. And making him call my mom because I'm breaking about a million rules. And the look on my mom's face when she comes to get me and take me home.

But Jenna doesn't yell. She just walks back inside the house and closes the door, carefully, like it's made of glass.

Stacey's right. My mom is so busy teaching piano she doesn't notice us sneaking into the house and up to the attic.

"We better be quiet," I whisper to Stacey as we tiptoe across the floor. "If my mom hears us creaking around she'll come up here for sure."

Stacey nods and sits down on the floor. I sit down, too, and glance at the mermaid. I realize it's been days since I plugged her in.

After a few minutes of sitting, my butt realizes how hard the floor is. It shoots a few complaints to my legs.

Then my head realizes how hot it is up here.

And how boring it is to be so quiet.

And how thirsty it makes me.

And how hungry.

And how I really do need to go to the bathroom.

***

After the piano music finally stops and I hear my mom opening and closing drawers in the bedroom below us, I turn to Stacey. She's peeling aluminum foil off the shrine and flicking the bits around.

"This is fun and all," I whisper. "But maybe you should get back home before your grandma figures out you're gone?"

Stacey sighs and flicks another bit. "I suppose," she says. "But let's do this again tomorrow, okay?"

"Um ... I don't know," I say. "I mean, I might be busy."

"Doing what?" Stacey asks.

I think for a minute. "Well, tomorrow's Tuesday, which means we'll probably have tacos for supper. So there will be a lot of tomato chopping that needs to get done."

"Maybe on Wednesday, then?" Stacey asks.

"Maybe," I say. "But my mom doesn't give piano lessons on Wednesdays so, honestly, she could be anywhere in the house."

Just then, the phone rings. I hear my mom pick it up.

"Hello?" she says. "Tootie! Hi!"

I glance at Stacey. "Your grandma?"

Stacey nods and we press our ears to the floor so we can hear what my mom is saying.

"No, Stacey's not here. Ida's at Jenna's house, practicing their Greek dance. Uh-huh ... Uh-huh ... I see. Well, maybe Stacey went to Jenna's house anyway? Why don't you call over there and check. And if she shows up here, I'll send her straight home."

Stacey looks at me. "Time to go," she whispers.

"
Fast,
" I whisper back.

As soon as we hear my mom clattering in the kitchen, we sneak downstairs and out the front door. Stacey takes off and I wait on the porch for a minute. Then I stomp back inside. "Hi, Mom!" I shout, slamming the door. "I'm home! From Jenna's house! Where I've been all afternoon!"

Then I run upstairs to the bathroom, fast, so I can avoid any questions or accidents.

I'm working on my second helping of macaroni and cheese at supper when the doorbell rings. I hurry to answer it in case Stacey decided to come sneaking around again.

It's not Stacey.

It's Jenna Drews.

Jenna holds my backpack out to me. "You forgot this," she says.

"Um ... oops," I say. I take the backpack from her. "Thanks."

Jenna just lifts her chin. Then she glances off to the side. "The paint's still wet," she says.

I step onto the porch and see a box sitting next to her. It's the same box that was sitting by her picnic table earlier, only now it's painted on all four sides. No matter which way you look at it, you see Mount Ida.

"Wow," I say, walking around the box. "How did you get it painted so fast?"

Jenna shrugs. "Rachel helped a little." Then she points to a hole that's cut out of the top. "That's your head hole. If you wear a white hoodie and tuck your chin, you'll look snowcapped."

"Good idea," I say, and give her half a smile.

Jenna glances away. "Rachel thought of it."

She turns to leave. Then she stops and turns halfway back. "I told the other girls you were sick," she says. "So you had to leave early."

"Oh," I say, shifting my backpack. "Um ... thanks."

Jenna gives me a quick nod. "But that's the last time I lie for you."

She turns away and marches down the steps.

Later, I don't sleep the greatest. A green cyclops keeps eyeing me. I try to hide from it, but everything I duck behind fades away.

When it's finally morning, I can hardly get out of bed, partly because I'm still tired and partly because my sheets are twisted around me like a toga.

I bump into Mount Ida on the way to my dresser. I hauled the box up here last night even though some of the wet paint rubbed off onto my favorite shirt.

I study the box for a minute. I feel bad about not helping to paint it. And about sneaking away from Jenna's.

I glance up at George. He's sitting on top of the box like a mountain climber.

"She cut me a head hole," I say to him. "Even after I snuck out."

George watches me from the peak.

I trudge to my dresser and open a drawer. I dig around for my second favorite shirt. When I pull it out, my No-Good Nymphs shirt comes along for the ride. I hold it up and study the nymph—spiders, fangs, and all.

I glance at George again.

He looks past me to my desk.

I walk over to it. I pull a black marker out of a drawer and lay the shirt on the floor.

I scribble over the spiders. And make their legs longer and wavy so they look like highlights in the nymph's hair.

I change her capital
V
eyebrow into bangs.

And put braces on her fangs.

Then I change the
N
in No-Good back into a
D.
I frown a little because it looks more like an
O
that swallowed a
Z
sideways. But sometimes sideways is the best you can do.

I pick up the shirt and show it to George. "Better?" I ask.

George studies the shirt.

"Better," I say.

Then I fold it up and put it back in my drawer.

Even though Stacey believes me when I tell her I'm too busy to sneak around with her after school, I keep myself extra busy all day Tuesday,
so there won't be time for the subject to come up again. I clean the hamster cage before class. I volunteer to make crepe-paper banners for Greek Day during morning recess. I eat lunch fast and then patrol the cafeteria, looking for second graders who need a hand opening their milk cartons. For afternoon recess, I clean the hamster cage again.

If Jenna is making the Do-Good Nymphs practice the Greek dance and do good deeds, I'm too busy to notice. Which works out good because, like usual, I'm avoiding Jenna, too. Only today it feels different. Like I'm not avoiding her because
she's
been a jerk. But because
I
have.

Wednesday is basically a repeat of Tuesday. Hamster cage. Milk cartons. Crepe-paper banners. Cyclops dreams. But on Thursday when Mr. Crow is setting up a video called
All About Greece,
a note sails onto my desk.

We haven't hardly talked since Monday! I'm So tired of being ^grounded. At (east I get to ego to ballet class today. And then we get to practice for our Greek Day dance afterward! Maybe we should ask the mermaid to make something extra fun happen, just for us, tomorrow?

S.

I pretend to be very busy looking for a pencil until the video starts. Then I pretend to be very interested in learning all about Greece. Afterward, when Mr. Crow asks for a volunteer to bring the video back to the library, my hand shoots up. It shoots up again when he asks for volunteers to paint the cardboard pillars he built for Greek Day. Quinn, Meeka, and Joey are done with their pillars by the end of our first recess. I do mine extra slow so I have to work on it during our second recess, too.

After school, I stick close to Randi as we walk with the other girls to Miss Woo's so we can practice our Greek dance as soon as their class is done. Jenna and Stacey are in the lead. Brooke, Meeka, and Jolene come next. Me, Randi, and her basketball bring up the rear. She spins the ball on her finger as we walk along.

"I could never learn how to do that," I say, watching the ball spin.

"It's not so hard," Randi says, catching the ball. "If Brooke can learn, anyone can."

Brooke looks over her shoulder and gives Randi a squint. "Ha, ha," she says.

Randi grins.

"When did you teach Brooke how to spin a basketball?" I ask.

"Last weekend," Randi says. "When she slept over."

I pull Randi to a stop. "
Brooke
spent the night at
your
house? On purpose?"

"Sure," she says. "Lots of times. When my mom and dad work the weekend night shift Jade stays over with me and my brothers. Brooke usually comes, too."

"But why would Brooke do that?" I ask. "I mean ... it seems like you're not the best of friends."

Randi shrugs. "So?" She spins the ball on her finger again. "There's no rule that says you gotta be best friends to sleep over."

Randi glances down the sidewalk at the other girls. Jenna and Stacey walk into Miss Woo's. Brooke, Meeka, and Jolene are nearly there. "Hey, Brooke!" Randi hollers. "Show Ida your spin!"

Brooke stops and turns around. Randi bounces the ball to her. Brooke catches it and gives it a spin on one of her polished fingers. A few seconds later it wobbles off and bounces back down the sidewalk.

"Needs work," Randi says, scooping up the
ball. Brooke does a pageant bow anyway and heads inside.

"Hey, look!" Randi says when we catch up to the others. "Mount Ida! Doing a flip!" She points to my costume that's sitting upside down by a bench in the entryway.

I nod. "My mom said she'd drop it off for me." A cardboard lightning bolt is sticking out of the box and I see Jenna's green leotard, vines, and a rock sitting on the bench. "Somebody must have dropped off Jenna's stuff, too," I add, but Randi has already wandered into the studio.

"Sweet!" she shouts, bouncing her basketball on the big wooden floor like she's in a gym. The other girls drop their stuff by the bench and head to the far end of the studio where Miss Woo is talking to Tom and some other dancers.

I sit down on the bench and watch Randi dribble her ball and fake-shoot at an invisible basket. Pretty soon, Miss Woo has all the dancers stand along a wooden bar, facing a wall of mirrors. I can see both sides of them as they lift their arms and bend their knees. Stacey's back looks long and loose, like wet paint on dry paper. Jenna's
back looks stiff and straight, like she could bend that bar if she wanted to.

Thump! Thumpthumpthump...

I glance toward my box and see the lightning bolt jiggle.

I walk over to the box and peek inside.

"Hi, Ida!" Rachel smiles up at me.

"Hi, Rachel," I say back. "What are you doing in there?"

"Playing." Rachel holds up her poodle. Three Kens and two Barbies are riding on its back. "My dad dropped me off on his way to the bait shop," she says. "We needed eggs."

I give her a smile. "Do you want to sit on the bench with me?"

"No, thanks," Rachel says. "I like it in here. It's cozy."

"Hey, Ida! Think fast!"

I look up and see a basketball bulleting straight at my nose. I lift my hands and the ball bounces off my arm. It rolls across the studio floor.

"Oops," Randi says. "I guess you weren't ready."

"I probably wouldn't have caught it even if I was," I say and take off after the ball.

All the dancers have moved to the center of the studio. The ball zigzags between their legs and so do I. It finally comes to a stop at the tiny feet of Miss Woo.

"Did you lose something?" she asks.

I scoop up the ball. "Sorry," I say. "It got away from us." I glance back at Randi. She's swinging the lightning bolt around like a sword.

Miss Woo glances at Randi, too. "Would you and your friend like to join the class?" she asks.

"Um.. .no, thanks," I reply. "I've never been very good with tights. And Randi was born to play basketball. Or run a restaurant."

Miss Woo gives me the hint of a smile. "I meant, would you like to join us just for
today?
" She takes the basketball from me and motions to Randi. Randi drops the lightning bolt and gallops over.

Miss Woo stands us side by side in the last row. Actually, we
are
the last row. "Just do what they do," she says, pointing to the others, and walks away.

A moment later, music starts playing and everyone starts moving. Back and forth. Up and down. They look like paper dolls cut from the same strip of paper.