Worst Enemies/Best Friends

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Worst Enemies/Best Friends Page 11

by Annie Bryant


  “And unlimited amendments,” said Maeve. “So the list can grow. I mean we might think up other important stuff.”

  “That’s a really good one,” said Avery.

  “Yeah, I think we should put that one first,” said Charlotte, her hands a marker-stained mess. “Would anyone like to submit suggestions for next week’s meeting?”

  “Yeah!” said Maeve, giggling. “Quit using fancy words like ‘submit.’”

  “Well, how about a game of soccer on Saturday?” Avery asked.

  Now, why was I not surprised she said that?

  “I’ll play,” said Charlotte. “I was on a team in Australia.”

  That got our attention.

  “I played defense, I was a stopper,” she told us.

  “Well, that totally figures,” said Maeve. “Your dancing suggests a violent past.”

  Avery was excited. I guess I could play. No coaches would be looking over my shoulder and comparing me to Patrice.

  And that was it: the end of our first BSG meeting. Charlotte promised to type up The New Tower Rules on cool paper so we could put it under the floorboard by the telescope. We headed downstairs to sleep.

  * * *

  THE NEW TOWER RULES CREATED BY THE NEWEST ORDER OF THE RUBY AND THE SAPPHIRE

  Be it resolved that all girls are created equal!

  We will speak our minds, but we won’t be like obnoxious or anything.

  We won’t put ourselves down, even if we aren’t super-smart, super-coordinated, or a supermodel.

  We’ll be loyal to our friends and won’t lie to them even if they make a mistake or do something totally embarrassing.

  We will go for it—how will we know what we can do if we don’t try?

  We will try to eat healthy and stay active. How can you chase your dream if you can’t keep up?

  We won’t just take from people and the planet. We’ll try to give back good things too.

  * * *

  * * *

  AMENDMENTS:

  We can all add as many amendments as we like.

  We will dare to be fashion individualistas—like we’re all different so why should we dress the same?

  Sometimes we’ll veg out—just because we feel like it!

  We should try to save money so if we ever want to, we can start a business or something someday.

  We should have as much fun as we can.

  * * *

  CHAPTER 22

  AVERY

  Bad Sports

  The BSG rocked. I loved our New Tower Rules. Could we be loyal? Could we be true to each other? Why not? Girls don’t always have to be mean to each other. My first personal test was basketball. Even though everyone plays soccer in the fall, Mr. McCarthy, our gym teacher, is completely obsessed with basketball. Rumor has it that he almost went professional. So now, every rainy day, all the gym classes have to play b-ball.

  I picked Katani and Charlotte for my team. They looked completely shocked, but if I was going to be loyal to the BSG, I was going to have to follow our rule of trusting them even if they did something embarrassing. (Besides, maybe I could improve their games a little.)

  Ever since the first class, Mr. McCarthy had acted like Katani was a big disappointment. He always picked me and Anna as captains. It wasn’t much fun being the gym teacher’s pet now that I was friends with Katani and knew how rotten Mr. McCarthy made her feel.

  Anna picked Joline—big surprise—and Nick. I also had Maeve and the Trentini twins. Maeve wanted to guard Nick closely. I let her, even though I knew gazing at her favorite hottie would blind her to the basketball. I passed to Charlotte and Katani no matter how many times they dropped it.

  We didn’t have a chance. Anna and Joline towered over me every time I tried to shoot or drive to the hoop. But, Charlotte grinned every time I passed the ball to her and then passed it right back. I got the ball to the Trentinis a few times, but with five minutes to go we were losing by eighteen points.

  I noticed Ms. Rodriguez had come in and was sitting in the bleachers.

  Mr. McCarthy noticed her, too.

  “Ms. Rodriguez,” he said. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

  “Well, Mr. McCarthy,” she answered, “since it’s so early in the school year, even I don’t have a lot of homework, so I thought I’d come watch for a few moments.”

  We got the ball in play again, and I put Katani by the net and gave her plenty of chances to shoot, even though she didn’t want them. Mr. McCarthy shook his head every time I passed to her, which made me really mad. Didn’t he get it that I was trying to teach her? Because he sure wasn’t interested in doing it. I really got into having Katani score a basket.

  In the last minute, I stole the ball from Anna, drove down court, and threw a quick pass to Charlotte…which she caught. Things were looking up. She passed it right back again. So I fired it back to her.

  “Dribble three times toward the basket,” I hollered.

  I thought I saw her lips moving as she counted out three dribbles, but she pulled it off and threw the ball back to me with grateful relief.

  Charlotte had bumped into Anna, which cleared the basket. Katani was begging me not to pass it to her, so I headed in for an easy layup.

  “Ten seconds!” shouted Mr. McCarthy. “Quit foolin’ around and take your shot, Short Stuff!”

  Short Stuff? Nobody calls me “Short Stuff!”

  “Katani,” I yelled as I lobbed the ball toward the backboard. “Tap it in!”

  Even if Katani couldn’t play basketball, she’d watched her sisters enough to know what I meant. She jumped, took a mid-air swipe at the ball, and—whaddaya know—she tapped it in.

  “SCORE!” I yelled, running toward her for a high five.

  The look on Katani’s face was incredible. It made me feel almost as good as if we had won. The look on Mr. McCarthy’s face made me feel even better. Ms. Rodriguez, who had come to collect us, was sitting up in the bleachers cheering.

  “Mr. McCarthy?” called Katani.

  “Yeah, Summers,” said Mr. McCarthy gruffly.

  “I think we should play five more minutes with the low baskets.” Katani continued: “I say we try a five-minute rematch where the taller kids still have to shoot regulation height and the shortest kids shoot into the lower baskets.

  “You know—the low rollaway baskets underneath the regulation ones so it’s fairer for anyone under five feet?”

  Mr. McCarthy’s face went red.

  I could see Ms. Rodriguez smiling all the way from the other side of the gym.

  “We’re outta time,” growled Mr. McCarthy.

  “Nice try,” said Anna sarcastically.

  “Actually,” Ms. Rodriguez called out, “this class is a little farther down the Oregon Trail than the other classes, and Mr. Danson is in a meeting right now. So a few extra minutes more won’t hurt.”

  Mr. McCarthy looked annoyed. We were probably interfering with his coffee break. Too darn bad. The class was so excited, they were already rolling the lower baskets into place. Sammy, the only kid under five feet besides me, looked like he’d won the lottery. For once, he’d have the same chance at a shot as Nick, Anna, and the Trentinis.

  “Here are the rules,” I shouted, throwing Sammy a pinney and putting on one myself. “Anyone with a pinney shoots at the lower baskets. The rest of you shoot for the usual.”

  “No fair,” said Anna, tossing her hair back like she was on TV.

  I didn’t have to argue back. Team BSG came to my rescue. “For your information,” said Katani, walking up to Anna, “there is the same distance between Avery and the top of the shorter basketball hoop and you and the top of the regular one. Maybe you even have a little less, but that’s OK because you’ll need every advantage you can get.”

  “All right, Summers. That’s enough,” said Mr. McCarthy. “Let’s get going. You kids have five minutes to finish this up.”

  Once we got started, those two witches, Anna and Joline, never passed to Sammy—o
r anyone else for that matter. Everyone on my team fed it to me. I loved these guys! The hoop was finally within range. Even with Anna guarding me, I crushed a dunk right over her head!

  We won! Anna and Joline tried to pretend it wasn’t a real game but you could tell they were mad. For Team BSG, it was a major victory! I thanked Katani. So did Ms. Rodriguez.

  “That was an interesting way to change the rules,” she said.

  CHAPTER 23

  MAEVE

  Rule #3

  Ms. Rodriguez was not the type to let us slide through Monday morning first period on autopilot. If she noticed the class was dead, which we totally were that day, she’d come up with an idea to shake us awake.

  “For Creative Writing this morning, I want you to write a story.”

  Everyone groaned.

  “Not your own story…a class story.”

  This perked everyone up a little.

  “When I call your name, I want you to come to the board and write the most exciting thing you can think of to keep the story going. By the end of class, we should have something good enough to sell to Hollywood. The only rules are: no violence, no TV characters, and no ending with ‘Then I woke up. It was all a dream.’ Maeve, could you start us off?”

  I couldn’t believe she was calling me to the board! She knew what a hard time I had spelling. Please don’t let me make a fool of myself, I thought as I walked up there. My stomach was in knots. My palms sweaty. Every kid in the class was staring at me, especially Nick.

  “I’m so lonely up here,” I giggled, trying to make a joke. People laughed. They didn’t know that I was telling the truth.

  “Don’t worry, Maeve. You won’t be alone long. All you have to do is write the title. With your dramatic skills and sense of story, I thought you’d be perfect for that. Charlotte, why don’t you come up, and be ready to write the first sentence.”

  I absolutely adore Ms. Rodriguez. She had purposely given me the shortest task. I shouldn’t have doubted her for a minute.

  I thought for a second. The hero of our story should definitely be a kid. I’ve seen about a million movies and the ones that really get me are the ones where kids are somehow split from their parents. Ever since I first saw Dumbo’s mother locked up and singing to him through the jail bars, those scenes have absolutely killed me. I wrote my title: THE RUNAWAY GRIL.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Joline turn to Anna and laugh. What was so funny? To make things worse, Charlotte tripped, nearly knocking me over. The poor kid probably couldn’t see with all that hair covering her face. I tried not to be mad that she had messed up my title with her marker. Now it read: THE RUNAWAY GRILL.

  “Thank you, Maeve,” said Ms. Rodriguez. “You may sit down now.”

  “Cool idea, Maeve,” said Charlotte, loud. It wasn’t until she began to write her sentence that I realized I had written “gril” instead of “girl,” and that Charlotte had changed my title on purpose, to save me from being the laughingstock of the class.

  Charlotte read her sentences out loud. “Who would have thought an innocent family picnic at the top of a hill could cause such destruction? By the time the grill with the loose wheel had rolled through the fireworks factory by the cornfield, the entire town was covered with popcorn.”

  “Nice!” said Nick.

  “Some girls should rethink their posture,” Anna hissed as Charlotte slunk back to her seat, trying to be invisible.

  “Anna,” said Ms. Rodriguez, who never missed a thing. “Please come up and continue.”

  I smiled at Charlotte when she sat down.

  “Thanks!” I whispered. “You’re the best.” I absolutely adore that girl.

  CHAPTER 24

  AVERY

  The Newest Member

  Saturday was soccer day. The BSG had agreed to meet at the field behind school at four, so we could play before dark. I was really surprised when Charlotte showed up in cleats and Katani and Maeve were wearing shoes they could actually play in. This could be fun.

  We started passing the ball around. It went well enough, so we tried playing some two on two. It had rained earlier, so it was a little muddy and slippery for Maeve and Katani, but they actually enjoyed playing because no one was yelling at them for doing something wrong.

  “This isn’t so bad,” said Katani. “Maybe my problem is hand-eye coordination.”

  The trouble was, no one could get past Charlotte, not even me. She was amazing. It was like she said; there was something about her clumsiness that went well with playing defense. I started thinking that maybe she’s not really clumsy, but more like “attracted to things.” This is bad if it’s hot soup, or an open door, but it’s great if it’s the soccer ball you’ve just taken away from someone. I started wondering if Charlotte might want to try out for my travel team.

  We ended for the day with some shots on goal. I got in goal and watched Maeve and Katani flail away. Charlotte talked to them about kicking, but that was going to take some time. We were a long way from corner kicks or crosses.

  Another wild kick from Maeve sent the ball into the bushes behind the goal. Racing to get there first, Charlotte and I both charged headlong when suddenly, Charlotte tripped over a garbage can that had fallen on its side. She looked so funny, just like an I Love Lucy prank. I was about to hoot with laughter. Then I heard it. We both heard it. A high-pitched howl coming from the garbage can. Something short and kinda fat ran into the bushes. Charlotte made an “eeeww” face.

  “That looks like a big, fat white rat! Let’s get out of here,” she said, pulling herself up quickly. Unfortunately, she got her feet all tangled together and promptly tripped back over the can again. That set off another yowl, this one louder.

  “That’s no rat,” I said. “It’s a…OMG…” Something rushed me. Charlotte screamed and grabbed my arm.

  “Ohh! It’s just a little dog. Charlotte…you can let go of my arm now,” I said.

  “I’m sorry. It’s just that he looked like some kind of huge mutant rat.”

  We both stared at the muddy little thing sitting in front of us. He was about as big as the soccer ball and looked like a scruffy little terrier, with one gray ear turned up. Most parts of him were probably white, but he was so dirty you could hardly tell. He was also a little funny looking. But he looked like the kind of dog you wouldn’t say that to.

  “Do you think he’s lost?” asked Charlotte.

  The little guy cocked his head like he was listening to us.

  “I think so. We have leash laws in Brookline; dogs definitely can’t be loose in the park. And look at him, he’s so dirty. Nobody would let their dog in the house like that.”

  He barked at us and then promptly sat down in front of my feet.

  Charlotte said that she didn’t think he liked to be called “dirty.”

  “We can’t just leave him here,” I said.

  “Should we pick him up?” asked Charlotte in the kind of voice that meant, “If we have to, could you do it please?”

  “Well, I’m not sure if we really should ’cause we don’t know if he has his shots or not,” I told her.

  The little guy must have been really upset when he heard that because, all of a sudden, he jumped up and did a flip in the air like a circus dog or something.

  “OMG,” gushed Maeve, who had run over with Katani to see what all the commotion was about. “That’s the cutest little thing even if it is completely, disgustingly filthy.”

  Katani looked a little skeptical. “Do you think he’s friendly?”

  That did it.

  The little dog started running in and out of our legs at a zillion miles an hour. Suddenly, he stopped in front of me, stood up on his little hind legs, and seemed to beg for me to pick him up.

  Maeve bent down and looked at his collar.

  “Avery, he’s got a rabies tag hanging off his collar and it says the date on it. I think it’s safe to pick him up. Plus, he seems really friendly to me.”

  That’s all I neede
d to hear. I pulled my sweatshirt off, bent down, and wrapped it around him. Boy did he stink…goodbye sweatshirt. I picked him up, and with a contented little snort, he snuggled deep into my arms. He looked up at me with mischievous, brown doggie eyes that seemed to say, “This works for me.” It was love.

  “Guys, I know he looks like a drowned, oversized hamster,” I said. “But he’s a dog. A little lost dog…an orphan. See? He doesn’t even have a nametag on his collar—just the rabies tag. We have to help him.”

  “Phew!” said Katani, holding her nose. “Well, maybe we should give him a bath.”

  “Let’s give him a bath at Charlotte’s, she’s right across the street!” Maeve offered.

  The little guy looked up at me and cocked his ear. Maybe he likes how he smells, I thought.

  Charlotte was still wiping stuff from her glasses.

  “What?” she said. “We can’t bring a dog to my house, especially a dirty, smelly one! He may have fleas. He probably belongs to someone.”

  “Yeah, someone who abandoned him long enough to get this dirty. And hungry! Hey, I’ll bet he’s hungry, aren’t you, little guy?”

  Charlotte grumbled, rubbing a few scratches on her arms.

  “This dog needs a home!” I said, looking from one to the other of them.

  “My parents won’t let us have a dog,” said Katani. “They say it’s not fair when we barely have time or space for the members of our own family.”

  “We tried having a dog once,” said Maeve, “but he barked every time the previews started, so we had to give him away.”

  “My mom’s allergic…So, I guess Charlotte, you’re the only one. There’s nowhere else. Pleeeeease, Charlotte,” I said. “I’ve wanted a puppy my whole life and I’ve never been able to have one.”

  The dog licked my cheek and then stared at Charlotte. I tried to match his pathetic look by sticking out my lower lip. How could she resist us?

  “I’m not allowed to have pets,” she said. “Otherwise I’d have another cat.”

 

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