Mom and Dad groaned. “No horror. That stuff gives me nightmares. We’ll decide later,” Dad said. “I’m sure there’s something
we can all agree on.”
That’s when I remembered the reason we never went to movies together: We never could agree.
Dear Family Fun and Fake Food Diary,
Mom started breakfast off with a bang. “So, Jenny,” she said. “What are you thinking about?” Which made me choke on my Cheerios.
I always do anyway, they’re dry as dust, but no way was I going to tell her what was on my mind. Which was mostly Kevin. I
could have told them about the theft, but that might’ve brought the conversation back around to Kevin. So, while I chewed
Cheerios and said to Mom, “Let me think,” Dad chimed in with his urgent updates. Like how the cost of rib roast rose two bucks,
and how he couldn’t find the AAA vacuum cleaner bags at Wal-Mart, and how Uncle Ralph was back in town. Which set Mom off
because she hates Uncle Ralph. Which made Dad mad because Uncle Ralph is his only brother and family is family, etc., etc.
I stopped writing, sighed, and flipped to the next page.
How did that make me feel? Hungry. So on the way out I snitched a Pop Tart from the pantry. But it was tasteless, too, so
I only ate one bite and put it back. Proof that dieting makes me delirious.
Needless to say, I was looking forward to school. As soon as the second bell sounded, though, I knew this day was going to
be the remake of
Bloody Tuesday: The Amputation
. Kevin was absent. Horrors! How would I make it through the day without our stolen glances? Without imagining my fingers
running through his thick, curly hair? Without planning our wedding and naming our children…?
The whole day was a dud. Max’s suspension was as demoralizing as Kevin’s absence. Prairie, Lydia, and I couldn’t seem to find
anything to talk about. It made me antsy for the day to end so I could go home and wait for Kevin to call.
He never did.
That night, while lying in bed staring up at the ceiling, I figured Kevin Rooney either 1) died, 2) moved, or 3) decided to
dump me and this was his subtle way of saying, “I can’t stand the sight of you, Jenny Solano. What was I thinking, you hideous
hippopotamus?”
My life was over.
The next day Kevin was back, but looking so green I thought he might puke if I got close enough to say hello. He was coughing
his guts out. We couldn’t even hear the homework review over Kevin’s hacking, so Mrs. Jonas ordered him to the nurse’s office.
His empty desk left me feeling empty inside.
Max’s desk behind me gave off vacancy vibes, too. All the vibes were weird, as if everyone was avoiding talking about the
money. Which is why I noticed Ashley’s new purse. It was large and leather and attached to her like a limb. It obviously contained
something extremely valuable, such as stolen goods. She took it everywhere, too—to science lab, to the restroom, to recess.
Even if she got up to sharpen her glitter pencil, she slipped the shoulder strap across her chest and hugged the purse all
the way there and back. I wasn’t the only one who noticed.
“She sure has s-something in there she doesn’t want anyone to see,” Prairie said at lunch as she wound a strand of soggy spaghetti
onto her fork.
“Which sure makes me want to see it,” I said, crunching a celery stick.
“We might as well forget trying to find the money on her,” Lydia said. “I bet she takes that purse in the shower with her.”
“You’re assuming she showers,” I said.
Lydia snorted.
I added, “Did you also notice she and Melanie have on the same outfit?
New
outfits? I wonder how much those cost.”
“Yeah,” Lydia said. “And Ashley’s skirt is about two sizes too small. It keeps riding up. You can almost see her blubberbutt
every time she waddles by.”
Prairie giggled. I didn’t. The word
blubberbutt
makes me wither. I smoothed my own skirt over my knees.
“Maybe when Max gets back she can figure out a way to get hold of Ashley’s purse,” I said.
At the mention of Max, we all sighed. Prairie asked, “What time is it, Jenny?”
I checked my watch. “Twelve fifty-six.”
She dabbed at her mouth and scootched out the end of the bench. “I’ve got to go,” she said, standing.
“Heavy date?” I asked.
Prairie blushed. Which answered the question. “Ms. Milner brought in her new snake. Hugh wanted to see it, so I told him to
meet me in the lab. You g-guys want to come, too?”
“Yes,” I said.
“No,” Lydia said at the same time.
We both looked at her. “I hate snakes.” Her whole body shuddered.
So did mine, but I didn’t have anything else to do, like stare spellbound at Kevin across the cafeteria.
“Come on, Lydia,” I said. “You don’t have to touch it or anything.”
She pursed her lips. “Oh, all right.” After shoving her half-eaten tuna salad sandwich back into her lunch bag, she Velcroed
the top shut and slid out.
We followed Prairie to the PC lab, where she spent several hours each day with the other special students. On the way we passed
Ashley and Melanie hanging posters in the A wing for the monthly PTA bake sale. “I heard your mommy’s running for PTA president,”
Ashley said to Lydia. “If she wins, instead of a spring fling, we’ll probably have diorama days.”
Melanie howled.
Before Lydia could bust Ashley’s braces, I grabbed her sleeve and yanked her past them. Of course, Lydia had to respond. Over
her shoulder, she called, “If you were any fatter, we’d have to have two passing periods. One for you and one for everyone
else in school.”
Ashley’s face turned purple. I shoved Lydia into the PC lab to save her life. As I stood guard to make sure Ashley wasn’t
going to retaliate, a familiar sound in the lab caught my attention. Kevin’s coughing.
I whipped around. Kevin smiled. He was standing beside Hugh at a huge fish tank. My celery melted into mush in my stomach.
Beside me, Prairie asked, “Where’s Ms. Milner?”
“Don’t know,” Hugh said. “The door was unlocked, so we just came in. This is a very fine corn snake. An excellent specimen.”
“Yeah, it’s cool,” Kevin said in a nasally voice.
Prairie went on. “We’re not supposed to be here when Ms. Milner’s out of the r-room.”
“Oh, okay,” Hugh said. He backed toward the door.
“We’re not doing anything wrong,” Kevin countered. He unlatched the screen on the top of the fish tank. “Think it’d be okay
if I picked it up?”
Prairie peered back at the open door. “I don’t know—”
“Sure it would,” I answered for her. “Why not?”
When Kevin lifted the snake out of the aquarium, Lydia shrieked. It made us all freak. Lydia covered her eyes and whirled
around. “Keep that thing away from me.”
Kevin’s eyes twinkled mischievously. He thrust the snake at Lydia. She screamed again. Kevin smirked. He is adorable, but
I’m glad he didn’t do that to me.
Lydia scurried over to the corner, near Ms. Milner’s desk, and hid behind the filing cabinets. After I felt the snake and
faked fascination, Kevin and Hugh started talking snake specifics, such as how long a corn snake gets, and how many live mice
it eats in a month. That made my lunch turn over again, so I wandered around the room.
Ms. Milner’s lab was awesome. There were lots of posters and magazines and books on tape. I envied Prairie her “special-needs
student” status. Not that I wanted to be learning disabled (which I doubted Prairie was), but it would be nice to get away
from the likes of Ashley Krupps and Melanie Mason for a few hours every day.
Ms. Milner rushed into the room. “Hi, kids,” she said. “What are you doing in here?”
We all froze. “We’re just 1-looking at the corn snake,” Prairie replied.
Ms. Milner smiled. “He is beautiful, isn’t he?”
“Very,” Hugh said.
The first bell rang and Ms. Milner headed over to her desk. She passed me and Lydia on the way and smiled hello. Any other
teacher would’ve written us up for loitering.
“You’d better get back to class,” she told us. “But you can come by after school if you want. I’ll be here for an hour or
so.” She dumped a stack of folders on her desk.
“Okay,” Hugh said. Even through his greasy glasses, you could see his eyes light up.
On the way back to class, Lydia and I had to make a quick pit stop. A couple of minutes later when we opened the restroom
door, we almost collided with a body. Not just any body. Max’s body.
“Max!” Lydia cried. “What are you doing—”
Max cut Lydia off with a stranglehold to her neck, wedging her against the wall. “Shut up,” she said. “If I get caught on
school grounds…” She released Lydia and took off toward the exit. Out the door window, I saw Ashley and Melanie pausing to
talk with Mr. Krupps in the parking lot. Max was on a direct collision course with them.
“Max!” I hollered to her. She glanced back and I pointed out the window. Looking panicked, she quickly ducked into the PC
lab.
“What is she doing here? What is she doing here?” Talk about panicked—Lydia was flapping her hands and wheezing.
“Calm down.” I grabbed her wrists. “Max can take care of herself.” I hoped.
W
e didn’t beat the late bell back to homeroom from the PC lab. As we charged around the corner at the end of the hall, Kevin
pushed off the wall and sidled up beside us. “Hey, Jen.” He coughed and covered his mouth. “Are you going to be home tonight?
I thought I’d come by.” In a husky voice, he added, “I want to give you something.”
“What? Your cold?”
He smirked and nudged my shoulder. It sent a tingle all the way to my toes. “Something better,” he said.
“Yo, Rooney,” someone called from the doorway of the gym. A bunch of seventh graders, I think. They wiggled their hips and
made smoochy sounds. One of them sang, “Rooney’s got a girlfriend.” And I thought Lydia was immature.
“Jerks,” Kevin muttered. He coughed again. “Excuse me while I go infect them.” He sprinted off toward the gym.
Lydia said, “What do you think he wants to give you? More jewelry?”
How did I know? I was loopy with love.
At two-thirty Mrs. Jonas gave us free time for the remainder of the day. It was like we’d been let out of Leavenworth, wherever
that is. Just as Lydia and I were rushing over to claim the quiet corner so we could play tapes on high volume, a sickly sweet
smell permeated the air. If you had a nose, you knew that smell. Old Spice.
Mr. Krupps boomed, “Attention!”
Thirty bodies froze in time.
“What are you, a bunch of hooligans? Everyone sit.”
The brownnosers like Lydia scrambled for their desks. The rest of us sank in place.
“Mrs. Jonas, what’s going on here?” Mr. Krupps demanded.
She rose from her desk. “The class earned a half hour of free time,” she said. “For good behavior.”
Good behavior? That was news to me. That’d be news to the
National Enquirer.
She added, “We were just getting settled.” She glared at Ashley, who had exited the bathroom and was taking her sweet time
getting back to her desk. She knocked her books on the floor as she tried to squeeze into her seat, which is impossible with
a purse attached to your chest.
In fact, as she tried to adjust the purse sideways, the strap broke. The bag thudded to the floor. It was so overstuffed that
something squirted out the top. That something was her billfold, and as it slid across the floor the end flaps unfolded. A
whole wad of money was exposed.
Ashley quickly snatched it up.
Since Lydia sat in front of Ashley, she couldn’t see the billfold. But Prairie and I could. We looked at each other and dropped
our jaws.
Mr. Krupps said, “We’ve had another theft. I don’t know what’s going on, or who’s doing this, but I expect anyone with information
to come forward. I will
not
tolerate this sort of criminal activity in my school. Do you understand?” The blood vessels in Mr. Krupps’s forehead throbbed.
Melanie raised her hand. “Who got robbed?” she asked.
Mr. Krupps shot her full of eye daggers. Thank God I hadn’t asked. In a gravelly voice, he said, “Ms. Milner in the resource
room.”
There was a group gasp.
I looked at Prairie. She’d clapped her hand over her mouth. Hugh was watching Prairie, too. At the ready, I guess, in case
she fainted. Then, for some reason, Hugh and I both looked at Kevin. He stared straight ahead, expressionless.
The bell rang. Usually the final bell signaled the hysteria to begin. Today we quietly gathered our things and slithered out.
Prairie and Lydia accompanied me to the bus stop. As we passed the A wing, Prairie said, “At least they c-can’t blame Max.
She wasn’t even here.”
Lydia and I exchanged glances. Our eyes hit the dirt. Ever wish you hadn’t seen something? That you didn’t know the truth?
Because once you know the truth, you can never unknow it.
Dear Faith in Friends, Frozen Food Diary,
I can’t believe Max did it. I
don’t
believe it. By the way, I ate a Healthy Choice frozen dinner tonight and about puked.
Maybe I should have. It might’ve calmed my stomach. It wasn’t just the plastic pork riblets that made me sick. I couldn’t
stop visualizing Max rushing into the PC lab. Oh, man. Oh, Max.
The front doorbell interrupted my thoughts, thank goodness. I jumped into action. Not that I was anxious about Kevin’s imminent
arrival, but I tossed my food diary on the bed and hauled butt down the hall.
Dad was closing the door as I screeched to a stop. “Bible thumpers,” he muttered, handing me a religious leaflet. The phone
rang in the kitchen.
Vanessa called, “It’s for you, Jenny.”
I hurried to the kitchen. Shoving the leaflet at Van, I grabbed the phone. “Hello?”
“Hi. It’s me.”
My shoulders sagged. Not that I didn’t want to talk to Prairie.
“M-Max ran away from home,” Prairie whispered urgently.
“What? Where?” I said. “When?”
“Today,” Prairie answered.