by Barrie Summy
Josh frowns. Junie gives me a quick hug.
“Sherry’s pretty uncoordinated,” she says. “She was born that way.”
Sorta kinda thank you, BFF. My hand reaches for Josh’s and squeezes on. Then we start strolling back to civilization. “How’d you guys find me?”
“At the end of the competition,” Junie says, “one of the Donner Dynamos, Sarah, hunted me down to tell me where they ditched you.”
“Sarah’s cool,” I say.
“Nick recognized the road from her description”—Junie smiles at him—“and figured out how to get here by bus.”
“Wow, Nick, that was pretty nice of you. Thanks.” I like his change of attitude.
“I’m excellent with directions and public transportation,” he says.
Improved attitude, but not too humble.
“Lucky for us.” Junie’s eyes twinkle at him. Then she skips to catch up to me and says quietly, “Are you really okay, Sherry? You look different somehow.”
You’d look different too if you’d just been pushed around the desert by a ghost, then made your mind up to go head to spooky head with him. I’m probably maturing at a faster than average rate. “I’m good.” Then I whisper, “We have to talk.”
“Junie told me all about how you infiltrated the Donner team just to help our school win.” Josh swings my arm big. “Way to go.”
Good cover, Junie.
At the bus stop, the four of us hang together. I notice Junie’s wearing pink lip liner and matching lipstick. The liner is definitely making her lips look thicker. Very chic. I pinch my bottom lip a few times, which is the best I can do at the moment.
The conversation swings to the practice competition.
“I really don’t get it,” Junie says. “Our robot is seriously superior to Donner’s, but they outperformed us.”
Nerdy Nick rubs his forehead, frowning. “A large part of Donner’s troubles last year stemmed from their lack of leadership. This year, Claire Greene has stepped up to the plate and is successfully captaining the team.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about,” Junie says. “Donner cost us points because their robot kept flipping our rings off the pegs.”
“That’s fair game,” Nerdy Nick says.
Junie’s forehead creases. “I know, but from where I was standing, I don’t see how their robot was consistently successful. A couple of times, its arm looked like it was about an inch away from the ring.”
“Optical illusion,” Nerdy Nick says.
Honestly, the guy’s got an answer for everything.
Her tongue pointing out between her teeth, Junie’s pondering. “I guess that’s it. I mean, what else could be the explanation?”
Optical illusion? Or ghost-stalker? That’s where my mind’s leaping.
Junie and Nerdy Nick launch into a whole boring discussion about engineering and robot parts and other überstrange topics. No surprise why these two aren’t dating anyone yet.
Josh and I meander away from the bus stop to the far side of a palm tree. We scooch in close and wrap our arms around each other. The sun is setting, going down behind a three-story building across the street. First, it sorta sits on top of the roof. Then it sinks down, like it’s scratching itself on the gutter. We’re both quiet. With Josh’s arm around me and my head leaning against his chest, we’re soaking up the romance of the moment. Just chilling on the same wavelength of love.
He tilts my head back and moves in for one of his signature Josh Morton kisses. I can’t describe them; they’re so magical. A mixture of orange Starburst candies + your stomach in the air when you speed down a steep hill on your bike + something fried. For a brief moment, my mind empties of mysteries and stalkers and ghosts and silver boxes.
We break apart and my mind instantly fills back up with mystery worries. Too bad Josh’s kisses didn’t have a more long-term effect. Like a suntan.
“Sherry,” Junie calls. “Josh. The bus is coming.”
We dash to the bus stop in time to hop up when the door wheezes open. The four of us trudge to the empty back where Josh and I squish into a seat together. Junie and Nerdy Nick sit behind us.
Josh flips open his phone and scans a text. “Candy and her friend really liked Janus.”
So that’s what he did with the tickets.
He reads more and groans. “I don’t think I need English tutoring again tomorrow.” Without texting back, he shoves the phone in his pocket. “Dude, that girl is way intense.”
I puff up with superiorness. No one has ever accused me of being intense over English.
Josh wrinkles his cute little freckled nose. “I’m starting The Ruler’s after-school math tutorial sometime this week.”
Like the way a dog perks up when he hears the word “bone” or “real-chicken treat,” Nerdy Nick’s all attention. “I have a math tutoring appointment with Kyle Rogers tomorrow morning before first period. Would you like to join us?”
“Cool.” Josh is digging that. Anything to get out of spending extra time in a classroom. But has he thought about the equation of Nick + Kyle + Josh?
And what’s up with Nerdy Nick? Is he tired of his loner-with-high-grades status? Or hoping to score extra cash? I shoot raised eyebrows at Junie, but she doesn’t see me.
The Ruler phones to find out when I’m coming home. I tell her I’m on the way. I don’t mention the whole ditched-in-the-desert thing. But her voice reminds me that I have questions about her past. “Do you guys know where The Ruler taught before Saguaro?”
“Beats me,” Josh says. “She was already there when I started seventh.”
I turn around in my seat.
Junie’s gazing at Nerdy Nick, like he’s got the answers to all the questions in the universe. Which is bizarro because Junie’s mostly the one with the answers.
Sure enough, Nerdy Nick says in his deep, rumbly, full-of-authority voice, “The Ruler came from another Phoenix middle school. Buren Middle School. She had big problems there. Including a dead principal.”
chapter
twenty-three
I get home. The Ruler’s all mopey, plumping up pillows in the living room, but without her usual enthusiasm for this activity. She’s wandering around, muttering about the Saguaro bot’s poor performance. “Could you believe it, Sherry? The way the Donner robot kept moving our rings? They earned a lot of extra points from that. And what about when our robot simply stopped? As if the battery were dead.” She flops down on the couch. “But it was fully charged.”
More and more, I’m believing the stalker played a part in all this robotics stuff. Why? I don’t know. Yet. But, for a ghost who can wield a knife, a plastic ring is a walk in the park.
Next, The Ruler does something that I’ve never ever seen her do before. Something that tells me she’s truly down and depressed. The Ruler slouches. Shoulders rounded over, back humped up. The whole nine yards. And because she’s dressed in a beige blouse and a beige skirt and slouching on a beige couch, she kind of fades away.
Ack. Eek. Ike. It’s making me sad to see her so sad and beige.
“Have you talked to Dad today?” I ask. That’s a conversation that’ll usually perk her up like a shot of espresso.
“Yes.” And she slouches a little more.
I’m getting desperate here. “And it’s your birthday tomorrow. That’s exciting.”
She gives a beige shrug. “We’re celebrating next week when your father gets home.”
I clap. “I don’t think so.”
She startles and sits up a little straighter.
“Your first birthday celebration will be tomorrow,” I say. “The second will be next week.”
“Good idea, Sherry,” she says slowly. “And I think I’d like my favorite carrot cake with cream cheese icing.” She stands. “It’s never too early to peel carrots.” She marches to the kitchen, her back straight as a, uh, ruler. Yes, she’s definitely back.
I head for the privacy of my room. I haven’t visited my fish all
day, and I’m majorly missing them. Which means they’re majorly missing me.
Cindy and Prince are zipping around without a care in the world, which is the way it should be if you’re a bala shark. I stuff the fish food in my backpack. I’ll carry it with me everywhere so the stalker can’t get his ghostly hands on it. He is so not overfeeding my precious adorable fish. Polly was right again; I do have to watch out for them.
Cross-legged on the floor by the aquarium, I text Junie.
I wait. My phone sits like a lump of The Ruler’s hot oatmeal cereal.
Cindy’s cute tail gleams and glints as she flips it against a plastic plant.
I wait some more. More lumpish behavior from my phone.
Prince opens and closes his little mouth against the glass.
I text again.
I wait. And wait. And wait. I text her again.
Radio silence.
What’s the scoop with Junie?
Eventually, I give up and go to bed. Sleeping is a special talent of mine. Homework not done? Big test the next day? Übermessy room? I still sleep great.
So I am majorly peeved when it’s five in the morning and I’ve barely dozed. Even the soothing buzz of the aquarium pump isn’t hypnotizing me back to sleep.
I’m lying in bed, grumpy at the world, when I hear a noise. A trucky noise. It rattles and groans and brakes right outside our house.
I swing my legs over the side of the bed and stumble to the window. With my fingers, I tweeze apart the blinds and stare out.
A rusty, dented truck is squished right up against the curb. The driver door opens, then shuts. A guy in a baggy T-shirt with a huge peace sign, faded jeans and sandals is ambling up our walkway with a bouquet of flowers. The same kind of bouquet I didn’t get from Josh.
I zoom downstairs to the front-door peephole. And just as he’s laying the bouquet on the porch, I whip open the door. “Who are you?”
He jumps back, practically to the other side of the street. His jaw flaps open and shut. A little like my fish, but nowhere near as cute.
I repeat, “Who are you?”
From behind me, I hear the squish-squish of The Ruler’s sensible crepe-soled shoes. I’d forgotten how ridiculously early she gets up.
“Who are you?” I say again.
The Ruler lays a hand on my shoulder. “Sherry, he’s my ex-husband.”
chapter
twenty-four
The Ruler has an ex-husband!
The world has obviously gone wacko. Next thing I know, they’ll be serving chocolate burgers and red licorice fries for lunch at the school cafeteria.
The Ruler explained everything. Including how the flowers I originally thought were from Josh were actually from her hippie ex-husband and for her.
Despite my reeling brain and extreme exhaustion, I drag myself to school. No one even notices the dark circles under my eyes. Not one friend. Not one teacher. Not one custodian.
Junie texts me back right before first period. Finally. Zippity-quick we plan two sleuthing field trips for after school. At this time, I will have a friendly-but-firm chat with her about the importance of returning texts in a timely fashion + successful detecting.
I don’t see Josh at lunch because it’s pizza day for the team on the pool deck. I don’t see Junie at lunch because it’s pizza day for the robotics team in The Ruler’s math room. I sit with my sandwiches in the lunch area across from boy-crazy Brianna, who basically babbles for the entire forty minutes. I yawn five times.
Then I yawn my way through my afternoon classes. Finally, after what feels like foreverland, the longest last period in Saguaro Middle School history comes to a boring end. Junie and I meet by the giant saguaro statue and hightail it to the bus stop.
“Junie, so much junk has happened since yesterday.” Luckily, I can walk and talk and suck back sour Gummi Worms all at the same time. I fill her in on the meanness of the stalker and the mysterious silver-box business.
By the time I’m done reporting, Junie’s eyes are big and round like large pizzas.
“That’s not all.” I pick out an orange Gummi Worm. “The Ruler has an ex-husband. He’s a hippie with a ponytail who really takes flower power to a whole new level.” And I tell her about his crazy flower deliveries. And how he and The Ruler got married super young, but it didn’t work out. “Last week’s bouquet was for their anniversary. This morning he brought her birthday bouquet.”
Now Junie’s eyes are the size of extra-large pizzas. Which calls attention to her eyeliner. That she’s wearing for the first time ever in her life.
I’ll get Josh to find out how Eric feels about Junie.
“What does your dad think?” Junie asks.
“He probably doesn’t like it. Although the flowers aren’t really personal. The hippie gives them to all sorts of people in his life. It’s his way of spreading love and peace in the world.” I make a peace sign with my fingers. “The Ruler was planning to tell him to stop. But he said today that he’s moving to a commune in Northern California with his girlfriend”—I nibble—“and won’t be able to keep up with the flower thing when he’s out of state ’cause it’d be too expensive.”
Junie reaches for the bag of Gummis.
“Why didn’t The Ruler tell you the anniversary flowers were really for her?” Junie says.
“She was embarrassed because I didn’t even know she had an ex.” The bus arrives and we climb on. “And then it got all messed up because I thought they were from Josh. Plus I’d taken the card.”
“You get involved with the weirdest things, Sherry.” Junie shakes her head.
“No kidding.” I choose a yellow worm.
“Your mom really thinks an amethyst will protect us?” Junie says. “Because this guy sounds like a jerk.”
“Tell me about it.” I point to the scratches on my legs from the tumbleweed. “I’m just hoping I don’t scar.”
“The amethyst?” Junie prompts.
“Yeah, yeah, she thinks it’ll work.” I wave a Gummi. “Those necklaces you saw at Brittani’s Baubles were on sale, right?” It’s not easy being a detective on a mini allowance.
Junie nods. “I hope they still have some.” She pulls out a blue and green worm, her fave.
When we’re in our seats, I say, “By the way, what’s the deal with not getting back to me last night?”
Junie’s face closes up like a sea anemone. “Nothing.”
“Excuse me? I send you a text saying the stalker is a ghost, and you don’t even respond till this morning? Not even a text back accusing me of being nutzoid?”
“Fine.” Junie hmpfs. “My parents took my phone away for the evening.”
Well, just toss me out the bus window and run me over. I cannot even remember the last time Junie got in trouble.
“I went over my text limit,” she says.
“With who? Your cell plan has more texts than mine.”
Junie does this cartoony shifty-eyed look.
It’s like sometimes when you’re watching a suspense movie and, all of a sudden, it’s clear as a cloudless Arizona sky just who the bad guy is. Well, I suddenly know who Junie’s texting. “Nerdy Nick? There’s that much robotics junk to text about?”
“You think everyone with Bs, As and a haircut is nerdy.” Junie’s eyes flash with anger.
I have no answer to that because, well, that is pretty much the universally accepted definition of “nerd.” At Saguaro Middle School, anyway. But because I so don’t like my best friend to be mad at me, I say, “You obviously know him better than I do. From robotics and all. If you tell me he’s not a nerd, I believe it.”
“Really, Sherry?” Junie’s eyes flash again, but with excitement this time. “He’s actually a nice guy. Knowledgeable, helpful, smart.”
And there you have it: he is nerdy. “Don’t forget
mean. He makes mega mean comments to me.”
Junie crosses her arms. “I’d say the mean comments are mutual.”
I twirl a few strands of hair around my index finger, mulling this over. “You might be right.”
Junie smiles. “Try being nicer to him. You’ll see how he grows on you.”
Like fungus. I bite my tongue before the words escape. “Have you thought about pursuing Eric?”
“Uh, no, he’s still not my type.”
“But, Junie, we’d have so much fun double-dating.”
“Not. My. Type.”
Fine. I can take a hint.
The bus rumbles to a stop, and we hop down and head across the mall parking lot. At the entrance, I yank on the chrome door handle. Then, arm in arm, Junie and I traipse down the hall, past our usual stops, like Video World and Corndogs R Us and Sequins.
We march into Brittani’s Baubles. Two teens with a mission. A mission to stay safe from an evil ghost. Fashionably.
Brittani’s is all narrow aisles and stuff dangling off hooks every which way. As in not the roomiest, most organized accessory store you’ll ever shop in. But it does have good prices. Junie and I beeline to the sale wall and start pawing through the necklaces.
“I found one!” Junie holds up a dainty silver chain with a purple stone the size of a walnut. Frowning, she bounces the necklace in her palm. “It’s tackier than I remembered.”
“Tacky?” Junie does not know her gemstones. I twirl the chain in the air, letting the amethyst spin. “See how it sparkles and shines? That’s the sign of classy costume jewelry.”
“Do you really think The Ruler will wear it?” Junie doesn’t sound convinced.
“If I gave The Ruler a stone from the school parking lot taped to a piece of string, she’d wear it,” I say. “So something this cute? Of course she’ll wear it. Every day of the week.”
We poke through the bazillion necklaces hanging from the bazillion hooks. And manage to scrounge up two more. One for Junie, one for The Ruler, one for me.
At the cash register, I hand the girl my money and make sure she stamps my Brittani’s Baubles frequent shopper card. Only one more purchase to go till I get a free bracelet. It pays to shop cheap.