How to Rock Best Friends and Frenemies

by Meg Haston

  “Obviously, there isn’t. She’s insane.” And so is Zander for not realizing how awful she is.

  “At least we’ll get a day off on Monday,” Nessa reminded us. “She probably can’t come on the field trip to the aquarium if she’s not a student.”

  “Whatever. Zander’ll bring her anyway. Not like Finnster would even notice.” I glared at a picture of a barefoot Zander on my bulletin board, then papered it over with a shot of Ella in her Miss Piggy Halloween costume.

  “Ugh. She’ll probably bring those disgusting Swedish Fish,” Liv moaned. “Which, by the way, have enough food coloring in them to—”

  “WAIT.” A flash of genius smacked me so hard, it almost knocked me over. Prank. Aquarium. Swedish Fish. “I’ve got it!”

  The girls leaned toward me, holding their breath. Nessa whipped out a crisp yellow legal pad and a new pen, writing down my words as I outlined the plan for my friends, detail by detail.

  Operation: Shedding Stevie

  • Objective: Create (and pull off) prank during Shedd Aquarium field trip that can be traced back to Stevie. Get her banned from Marquette grounds (and possibly Chicago) before the dance on Friday (and possibly sooner).

  NEEDED / RESPONSIBLE?

  1. Glitter markers, pens, puff paint / Liv & Nessa (Kacey can steal from Ella’s art stash if necessary)

  2. Swedish Fish stash / Molly (Kacey can steal from Ella’s candy stash if necessary)

  3. Field trip itinerary / Kacey

  4. List of potential diversions to distract Spinster Finnster / Kacey

  5. Cell phone (Note: Stevie can’t recognize the number) / Liv

  6. Victory dance, to be rocked out at a later date and separate location / Kacey (and everyone)

  KACEY’S LIST OF POTENTIAL DIVERSIONS

  • Option A: Slip sea anemone in Finnster’s old-lady handbag while she’s not looking. Then complain of scratchy throat and ask if she has a hard candy. She will, because she’s old. Sit back. Enjoy.

  • Option B: Fake sighting of escaped poisonous water snake. (Note: Scream like I screamed when Ella slipped Oprah Winfurry and Enrique Piglesias under my covers to “snuggle me good morning.”)

  • Option C: Scribble Molly’s face with (washable?*) black marker and claim she got squirted with octopus ink.

  *Note: Permanent marker would probs be more believable.

  • Option D: “Borrow” starfish from aquatic petting zoo area. Nestle securely in TBD Student’s hair. (Possibly Jilly Lindstrom? Her mop’s so frizzy it would be easy to slip it in there unnoticed.) Point out starfish. Sit back. Enjoy.

  When we finished, we looked at one another, our eyes glowing. It was so simple. So perfect. And there was no way it could ever be traced back to us.

  SHEDDING STEVIE

  Monday, 9:16 A.M.

  “Attention, Marine Biology students.” Spinster Finnster’s labored breath rattled over the bus speakers like the soundtrack to a geriatric slasher flick. “We will be arriving at Shedd Aquarium in just a few moments, and we will then make our way to the Oceanarium for the dolphin show.” Mic feedback screeched as she mentioned something about being good ambassadors to the outside world. Everybody groaned, and the volume on the bus resumed its Wrigley-Field-on-game-day level.

  “Okay, girls. Are we ready?” I tapped a caffeinated rhythm on the ripped leather seatback in front of me. I might have been a nervous, jittery wreck on the inside, but on the outside, I had it together. My jade jersey boatneck dress was innocent enough, but the black fishnets and laceless black ankle boots added an appropriate hint of “bad girl on a mission.”

  “Born ready,” Nessa assured me with a nod.

  “Good.” The girls and I had staked a claim on the four seats in the back row. Paige sat one row ahead of us, but luckily she had occupied herself handing out baggies of pistachios with the slogan Go Nuts for Paige Greene on them. Quinn and Aaron Peterman were tossing a Nerf football in the aisle while Jake Fields called the plays.

  And Zander and Stevie were smashed against each other in one of the middle rows, sharing a single set of iPod buds. He’d hardly acknowledged me all morning. All I’d gotten was a nod, the kind you give your old-lady next-door neighbor Mrs. Weitzman so you won’t have to stop and talk to her about cat arthritis.

  “She deserves this. What goes around comes around, right?” Liv crossed her legs into lotus pose and closed her eyes.

  “Right.” I tightened my high ponytail and checked for bumps in the smudged window. Beyond my reflection, Michigan Avenue landmarks raced by. Pritzker Pavilion, where Molly and Zander had gone on their first (and only) date. The Millennium Park skating rink, where I’d told Zander I had to quit the band.

  “Aaaand he’s going long, and it’s—gooooood!” In the fifth row, Jake jumped to his feet as Quinn jogged backward and pawed the football from the air, almost tripping over the mountain of backpacks in the aisle.

  “Wilder!” I snapped, glaring at my former crush. “Watch it.”

  Quinn turned and whipped his thick, dirty blond locks out of his eyes. A few weeks ago, that hair toss would have made my knees buckle. Now it just made me want to give him a haircut.

  “Sorrrrry, Simon.” He grinned and released the football in an effortless throw. It sailed toward the front of the bus.

  I rolled my eyes and refocused on the girls. “Mols. You’ve got all the supplies, right?”

  Molly stared straight ahead, her strawberry-glossed lips slightly parted. “Did you guys see that throw?”

  “Molly. Focus.” I snapped my fingers just inches from her nose. “Supplies.”

  “Got ’em.” She lifted a generic-looking backpack that used to belong to her half-brother, Nate, before he went to college. It was black, plain, and totally boring. In other words, inconspicuous. “Everything’s here.”

  “Okay. Okay.” I glanced nervously at each of the girls. “Thank you guys for helping out.” This plan had to work. If it didn’t… the thought alone was enough to make me want to cry. Or stuff Quinn Wilder’s football down Stevie’s throat.

  “Obv.” Molly looped arms with me and rested her head on my shoulder. “She’s toast, Kace.”

  “Oh. Am I interrupting anything?”

  I looked up to see Paige standing in the aisle, squinting suspiciously through her foggy lenses.

  “Apart from a perfectly nice bus ride?” Molly studied her nail beds.

  “Uh, no. ’Course not.” I elbowed Mols and crossed my legs. There was no way Paige would let us go through with our plan if she found out about it. “How’s it going with the pistachios?”

  “Pretty good.” Paige gripped the tops of the seats on both sides of the aisle and leaned in, like she was doing a push-up.

  “Awesome,” I said encouragingly. Paige’s wide-eyed innocence, the way she was so concerned about winning and being so good at the same time, made me feel a little guilty about what I was about to do. But then I caught another glimpse of Stevie resting her head on Zander’s shoulder. Moment over.

  The Oceanarium was an expansive pavilion with high ceilings and spotlights positioned over the turquoise waters of the tank. Silver stadium-style bleachers curved halfway around the tank, facing a wall of windows overlooking Lake Michigan.

  “Come along, students, the show will begin in a few moments.” Finnster led the class to our seats in the top three rows of the bleachers, past a few retirees and fanny-pack-wearing tourists. Trainers in wet suits were perched on the fake rocks edging the tank. “Please take out your class journals, and be sure to make note of your observations during the show.” Finnster crossed her legs, revealing the ankles of her bunchy tan support stockings.

  “Come on.” Molly grabbed my hand and dragged me to the seats next to Quinn, Aaron, and Jake in the second row. Nessa and Liv slipped in behind me, and Paige sat next to Jilly Lindstrom on the top row. Stevie led Zander to the very end of the row, away from the rest of the class.

  “You know what would actually make this show cool?�
�� Quinn started up again. “If they put hungry sharks in the tank, too.”

  “Quinn!” Molly shrieked, her face a combination of disgust and curiosity. “That’s inhumane,” she informed him with a sultry flick of her bangs. “Don’t you ever read the side of the tuna fish can?”

  “Bloodbath.” Jake punched Quinn’s shoulder. “Epic.”

  “I’m for real, dudes,” Quinn insisted. “If I planned these trips, man—”

  “Only you don’t, Quinn.” Paige ran a hand through her bob, making her bangs stick out in a million directions. “The student council makes the big decisions, while you’re busy playing paper football. So let it. Go.”

  If I hadn’t been so preoccupied, I would have been semi-impressed with Paige.

  Quinn’s jaw tensed. “I could do a way better job than those losers.”

  “Those losers,” Paige said slowly, “do more for this school than you ever have.”

  “What, like getting rid of all the good vending machines and planning lame field trips?” Quinn shot back. “Nice work.”

  Everyone stopped talking and stared at Paige and Quinn.

  “OMG. This is even better than dolphins.” Liv’s lemon tea–scented breath was hot on my ear.

  “Whatever. I wouldn’t expect you to get it, Wilder.” Paige’s voice started to waver.

  “Gimme a break. I get it. And to prove I get it? I”—he turned around to face the rest of the class—“am running for eighth-grade class president.”

  “Duuuude!” Jake and Aaron started punching Quinn. Molly golf-clapped. And Paige looked like she wanted to take a running leap into the dolphin tank. On Finnster’s other side, Imran Bhatt, Paige’s main competition for president, buried his face in his hands. Everyone else pulled out their phones. Quinn’s nomination would be trending on Twitter before the first dolphin backflip.

  “Students!” Finnster clapped. “Quiet, please!”

  At least I thought that was what she was saying. I couldn’t actually hear her. But I did see Nessa beam me a look that said: No diversion necessary.

  “You ready?” I whispered to Molly, stealing one last glance at Zander and Stevie. Zander was laughing and fiddling with the leather cuff bracelet on Stevie’s wrist. The same way he used to fiddle with mine.

  “Let’s do this.” Molly’s voice was thick with determination.

  I composed a quick text to Stevie on Liv’s phone. I had to get her away from Zander so she wouldn’t have an alibi.

  HINT HINT. U HAVE A HUUGE TEAR IN THE BACK OF UR PANTS.

  Stevie looked down at her phone and stiffened, then rushed out of the bleachers toward the ladies’ room, covering her butt with her slouchy messenger bag.

  Molly snickered, then hooked the backpack over her shoulder. And while the rest of the class clustered around Quinn Wilder, the four of us slipped unnoticed from the bleachers and headed for the glowing EXIT sign.

  JUST ADD WATER

  Monday, 10:24 A.M.

  We had to hustle through a dingy stairwell to get to the penguin tank, the next stop on Finnster’s itinerary. Slowly, we crept down the metal steps in the near dark. The stench of dead fish hung heavy in the air and pinpricks of salty sweat rose along the neckline of my dress. Every nerve in my body was on high alert.

  “Dun dun DAH-dun, dun dun DAH-dun.” Behind me, Molly hummed the theme to Mission: Impossible. Nessa snickered.

  Halfway down the stairs, I stopped and turned to face my troops. “Remember, if we run into a security guard—”

  “Ohmygosh, Officer! We’re soooo lost and just want to, you know, learn? Can you help us find our teacher?” Molly widened her eyes innocently, then triple-blinked.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Nessa groaned.

  “I can cry on cue if you want.” Molly pinched her thigh, and her face twisted in pain.

  “Mols!” Liv swatted Molly’s hand away. “Quit it.”

  “That’s okay. No crying necessary,” I said. “Let’s just stick with the plan.”

  The door at the bottom of the stairwell was jammed. I had to hip-bump it three times before it released, revealing a dim, cavelike room. Behind floor-to-ceiling glass, at least forty penguins hopped from fake iceberg to fake iceberg, dove into clear blue water, and blinked their beady little eyes at us. The light from the tank wove blue ribbons on the wall behind us. The room was completely deserted. No witnesses.

  “Perfect.” I wiped beads of sweat from my forehead and squinted at the girls. “Let’s get to work. Mols? Supplies?”

  Molly knelt next to her black backpack and pulled out two giant bags of Swedish Fish, a boa, and three glow-in-the-dark rubber duckies.

  Nessa wrung her hands. “I can’t believe we’re about to do this! Wait. What if we get caught? What if—”

  I grabbed her wrist and squeezed reassuringly. “We won’t. I swear.”

  “This isn’t gonna hurt the penguins, is it?” Liv pinched her lower lip. The turquoise glow emanating from the tank lit her worried frown.

  “GIRLS!” My voice bounced off the damp walls. Even the penguins stopped and stared. “Everything’s gonna be fine. We want Stevie out of our lives, right?”

  “Right,” the girls chorused.

  “Then we have to do something so big that she’ll really get in trouble. And this is it.” I hoped my friends couldn’t hear the thunderous beat of my heart. Of course the plan would go off without a hitch. Stevie would be out of the picture, and I’d have Zander and the band to myself again. But if anything went wrong, we’d be in major trouble. Grounded-for-LIFE kind of trouble.

  “Kacey’s right.” Molly nodded, locking her eyes with mine.

  I grinned back. “Thanks, girl. Okay. Nessa, you take the supplies into the tank. And Liv, you take care of the glass. Molly, stand watch by the door. I’ll supervise. Ready? Break!”

  The girls dispersed. Liv dug a handful of glitter pens and puff-paint markers from Molly’s backpack and started scribbling on the glass. Molly flattened her body against the wall next to the door, cop-style. And Nessa scooped up the candy, boa, and rubber duckies and headed for the door next to the tank. She gripped the handle and rattled.

  “Um, Kacey? It’s… locked.”

  My heart stopped mid-beat. “What?”

  “It’s locked,” she said again. “I can’t… we can’t get in.”

  The sweat on the back of my neck turned to ice. “No. Nonononono. This is not happening right now.” I hurried to the door and tried the handle. Definitely locked.

  “Okay. I can figure this out. I just have to think. Think, Kacey.” I raked my hands through my hair, my fingers catching on the jeweled hairpin that held my bangs in place.

  “Aha.” Nessa plucked the pin from my fingers, slid it into the lock, and jiggled.

  “You are brilliant!” I peered over her shoulder as she twisted the pin. Finally, we heard a small pop.

  “Is it just me, or do you totally feel like we’re in a Russian spy flick right now?” Nessa turned the handle and opened the door. “Like, with subtitles and everything?”

  “Da,” I said in a Russian accent, flicking at the boa around her neck. “Now get to it.”

  She giggled and disappeared behind the door. A few seconds later, Liv shrieked.

  “Nessa! Ahhh!”

  “What? Lemme see!” I hurried to the front of the tank and peered through the glass. On the other side, Nessa was flinging handfuls of red Swedish Fish into the water. One of the penguins was making a nest out of the boa, and the glow-in-the-dark duckies were bobbing happily in the water. Nessa glanced up and waved, then produced a pair of tiny pink shades and placed them on the closest penguin.

  “OH. MY. GOD.” I doubled over in giggles. Liv and I leaned against the glass, trying desperately to catch our breath.

  Nessa checked her watch and flashed five fingers.

  I coughed and straightened up. “Five minutes! Five minutes.”

  “Help me finish up here.” Liv tossed me an emerald-green glitter mark
er, and I started doodling feverishly on the glass. Guitars, musical notes, Seattle’s space needle—anything that would point directly to Stevie. A few short minutes later, almost every square inch of the glass was graffitied with neon glitter sayings and drawings:

  FREE THE PENGUINS (& THE STUDENTS)

  SEATTLE ROCKS MY BOAT

  HEY, MARQUETTE! HONK IF YOU’RE CORNY!

  SPINSTER FINNSTER: 1,000 B.C.–????

  “Awesome.” I jumped at the sound of Nessa’s voice behind me. “Looks amazing.”

  Molly waved her hands frantically and stomped her foot. “I can hear them!” she hissed frantically. “Hide!”

  I snatched the backpack out of the way, and the girls and I bolted for the door, clustering behind it. My stomach was practically in my throat. What if Paige noticed I’d ducked out and started asking questions? What if someone recognized Liv’s handwriting? What if Stevie—

  “And here we have the peng—” Finnster’s disbelieving wheeze told me she wasn’t totally blind after all.

  “Oh. My. Gahhhhh—” Paige’s voice trailed off.

  “Dude! Somebody graffitied the tank!” Aaron Peterman shouted gleefully.

  The rest of the class shoved their way inside, and the girls and I slipped into the back of the crowd as if we’d never left.

  Finnster clutched her chest like she was about to collapse. The class rushed the tank, snapping pictures on their cell phones and tapping the glass. Almost immediately, a SWAT team of trainers in khaki shorts appeared on the other side, chasing the increasingly aggravated birds and swiping candy from the water with giant nets.

  Molly inhaled sharply when she saw the tank. Her shoulders started to shake, and her face turned bright red.

  A familiar lemony scent hovered in the air next to me. Liv reached over and squeezed my hand.

  “Such a shame.” She tsked. “Great accessories, though.”