Totally Toxic (4 page)

I couldn't stop myself from giggling. I was talking about protecting the universe, not washing the dishes, but of course, there was no way to explain that to Emily. I was just glad she understood.

“I have an idea,” I said, removing my lunch bag from my locker and swinging the door closed. “Why don't you come over to my house on Sunday? For the meeting.”

Emily looked wary. “The meeting, huh?”

As we started down the corridor, I could tell she was remembering the last time she attended one of my mother's activist meetings. It was to raise animal rights awareness, and the cochairperson put Em and me on two straight hours of envelope-stuffing duty. Emily had hated it. I mean, she likes animals as much as the next kid, but even I had to admit that the stuffing job was way boring!

“What's the deal?” she asked. “What's so dangerous about this factory?”

“Mom's heard they're doing stuff that might be bad for the environment,” I replied. “Pumping toxic waste or something.”

I could see in Emily's eyes that she knew this was a big deal, but before she could comment, someone tapped me on the shoulder.

I turned and came face to face with Josh Devlin. He was so close I could actually see the gold flecks in his green eyes!

“I heard about the factory, too,” he said. “I rode my bike out there yesterday to see if I could find out anything, but I couldn't get past the gate.”

I was momentarily sidetracked by an image of Josh coasting along on his bicycle with the sun on his face and the wind in his hair….

Emily gave me a little nudge in the ribs. I blinked and made myself pay attention.

“Anyway my mom's going to your mom's meeting, and I was thinking I might go, too.” He glanced away, then back. “That is, unless it would bother you if I… ya know… tagged along.”

I forced myself not to yelp with delight. “Bother me? Why would it bother me?”

“I don't know.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I was afraid you might think it was… kind of… you know… weird. For me to come to your house. Not that your house is weird, but…”

I knew exactly what he meant: in sixth grade, having a boy come to your house—even for a meeting about toxic waste— could cause big-time gossip. People might think Josh and I were an item or something. I could hear them now:
“Oooooooh! Zoe and Josh sittin' in a tree
…” and junk like that. So immature! Besides, it wasn't like Josh was coming by to hang out with me; he'd be coming to the meeting because of his concerns about environmental stuff.

Josh's teeth were unbelievably, perfectly, amazingly straight. I heard myself ask, “Do
you
think it would be weird?”

“No, not really.” He was looking directly into my eyes now. “Do you?”

It was thoughtful of him to check with me. He knew as well as I did that sixth graders could take something like this and run with it. But if Josh was willing to risk rumors about us being Sweetbriar Middle School's next big couple for the sake of the
environment, then so was I. We could be courageous together.

“Nope.” I swallowed hard and shook my head. “I think it would be very… you know… not weird.”

Josh smiled.

I smiled.

Emily rolled her eyes.

“Well, I've got to get going,” said Josh. “See ya later.”

“See ya.”

I watched him walk away, all the way down the hall until he turned the corner. Then I looked back at Emily, feeling dazed. “Josh Devlin is coming to my house on Sunday.”

“Yeah.” Emily quirked her lips into a grin. “I got that.”

There was a tumble in my stomach that was part excitement, part panic. “What if it's … you know… weird?”

“Please!” Emily laughed. “Let's not start that again, okay?”

“Right. Sorry.”

We began walking in the direction of her locker. “I guess I won't be at the meeting after all,” she said matter-of-factly

“What do you mean?”

“Well…”Emily smiled.”As your best friend, I feel it's my duty to give you some quality alone time with your extremely crush-able crush.”

I rolled my eyes. “Alone. Right. Just me, Mr. Crush, and a million moms.” I laughed, then added honestly, “To tell you the truth, that's plenty alone enough for me!”

“Whatever,” said Emily. “It will be great.”

We reached her locker; she twirled the lock and pulled at the door once… twice. Stuck, as usual.

Absently, I reached in front of her, took hold of the handle and gave a tug. I hadn't meant to use my superstrength, but I guess I
accidentally did because the door gave way and crashed open so hard that it dented the locker next to it.

Emily looked at me strangely.

“You must have loosened it up,” I fibbed, and quickly shifted the subject back to Sunday's meeting. “So you're sure you don't want to come? We were just saying we never get together anymore….”

“Zoe, chill!” Emily's expression was utterly genuine. “I'm completely cool with it.”

I gave her a huge best-friend hug.

“All right,” I said. “But next weekend, we're going to do something way best friend-ish. A sleepover, maybe. Or shopping.”

“Did somebody say shopping?” Caitlin Abbott was heading toward us, looking like she'd just stepped out of a fashion magazine. She was dressed in one of the funkiest outfits I'd ever seen: lime green flared jeans with a rhinestone belt and a zip-front sweater with oversized faux-fur cuffs. For some reason, the cuffs on her sweater made me think of the costume she'd worn in the play. She'd said that the cuffs were way too long and that she'd used these giant scissors to fix them, but it turned out that she'd lied about shortening the sleeves herself. Something about that had always made me feel a little funny. What had she really been doing with those scissors? But I was in such a good mood I decided not to dwell on it.

Caitlin was giving us her prettiest smile. “My aunt is taking me to the new mall in Templeton Heights this Sunday. Anybody wanna come along?” She looked from Emily to me, then back to Emily. “They've got all the best stores and a food court that's so big it almost has its own zip code.”

Emily gave me an awkward look.

“This Sunday?” I asked glumly.

Caitlin nodded. “They're having all kinds of grand opening sales.”

“Thanks anyway Caitlin,” I said. “I can't make it.” I nodded to Emily. “But you should go.”

Caitlin turned to me with a sympathetic sigh. “Maybe you can come next time, Zoe.”

I was about to say that I'd like that, but she turned back to Emily as though she'd already forgotten what she'd just said. “Walk with me to my locker, and we'll plan our shopping strategy.”

“Okay.” Emily pulled her lunch pack out of her locker. “Do you mind, Zoe?”

I shook my head. “Not at all. I hear there are forty-seven shoe stores on the first floor alone. You're gonna need all the strategy you can get.”

“We'll see you at the lunch tables, then!”

They took off down the hall and I headed the other way, toward the doors that led outside. I couldn't blame Emily for wanting to go to the mall.

But I
could
feel a little left out.

And I
could
feel more than a little nervous, because there was something about Caitlin that made me suspicious.

I could… and I did.

But by the time next weekend rolled around, my superhero exam would be behind me (I hoped I'd pass with flying colors), and I'd be spending some quality time with my BFF. Unless, of course, some extreme villain got his death ray up and running, or I got called away to some far-off planet to prevent an alien invasion.

But I wasn't going to dwell on that, either.

n Saturday afternoon, I was in my room studying for the superhero test when Mom called up the stairs.

“Zoe, will you please come down here for a moment?”There was a chuckle in her voice. “You have a visitor.”

I tucked the manual into the drawer of my night table and went downstairs.

“Who is it?” I asked, hopping with both feet onto the lowest landing.

“Well,” said Mom, making a sweeping gesture with her arm toward the foyer,” I
think
it's your grandfather… but it's difficult to be certain.”

Sure enough, a man stood in the middle of the entry hall, holding a big tackle box in one hand and clutching a fishing pole in the other. He was dressed head to toe in outdoor gear— a gray nylon vest with about a zillion pockets on it, a pair of tall, green rubber wading boots, and a floppy canvas hat with fishing
lures pinned to its brim, which hung down so low over his face that I couldn't see his eyes or his nose. I laughed out loud. “Grandpa Zack, is that you under there?”

“What's with the getup?”

Grandpa put down the tackle box and pushed his hat back. “Did you forget about our fishing trip?”

“Um … well…” I
hadn't
forgotten about our fishing trip because we hadn't
planned
any fishing trip. But he winked at me, and I knew I was expected to play along with the charade. “Yes. I forgot all about it.”

“Well, throw on an old pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. I closed the shop early, I've got plenty of bait, and I know a great spot along the Sweetbriar River where the fish practically jump out of the water and into your hands.”

“Then what do we need bait for?” I joked.

Mom laughed. “I think it sounds like fun, as long as you're planning to follow the catch-and-release rule. So where is this amazing fishing spot?”

“Oh, it's way out past the town limits,” replied Grandpa. “At the end of Shady Bank Road.”

“Really?” Mom was suddenly on alert. “Near the detergent factory?”

I shot Grandpa a look.

he answered.

“Hey, Mom,” I said quickly, before she could start making a big deal about the location, “do you think you could fix Grandpa and me a couple of sandwiches for the trip while I go get changed?”

“Good idea,” said Grandpa. “I work up an appetite when I go fishing.”

After Mom had disappeared into the kitchen to prepare our feast, I whispered to Grandpa, “What's up?”

“Training exercises. And we're going to need lots of room.” He gave the zipper on his fishing vest a little tug.
“Lots
of room.”