How to Outfox Your Friends When You Don't Have a Clue
Page 3
“I think murder is probably a little extreme,” Dad said, peeking out from the kitchen. An old apron was tied around his waist, and he was wielding a wooden spoon stained with something red. “Unless you’re going to attack Daz with a murder of crows?” He giggled at his own joke.
CREATURE FILE
SPECIES NAME: Goofballicus Fatheropta
KINGDOM: Our house, making dinner so Mom doesn’t set the kitchen on fire; the gorilla exhibit at the zoo, where he studies them and usually comes home smelling like them too.
PHYLUM: Funny dads with mustaches that twitch when they’re thinking hard; excellent hug giver and maker of blanket forts.
WEIGHT: Whatever it is, he’s always moaning when he steps on the scale and muttering about treadmills.
FEEDS ON: Family meetings, gorilla stuff, Mom’s special pineapple cookies with extra cinnamon sugar on top.
LIFE SPAN: Pretty sure dads are immortal.
HANDLING TECHNIQUE: If you’re staying up late to read, make sure that he can see the light underneath your blanket because then he’ll leave you alone. Keep a stash of M&M’s in the car for long rides because Goofballicus Fatheropta gets hangry after a few hours without food.
I gave him a look. “It’s Daz’s turn to help out, not mine. You can tell him to stop bugging me with his texts!”
“Ten four, peanut! We’re making your favorite tonight to celebrate!”
“To celebrate what?” I yelled on the way to my room.
He didn’t answer. Instead, a loud clatter of cutlery echoed through the hallway.
“Weirdos,” I mumbled, shaking my head. My dad was usually so preoccupied with work, he was in Gori-La La Land half the time. For a second, I debated knocking on Daz’s door and chewing him out for his irritating texts. But why wake the beast?
As my hand was on my bedroom doorknob, Daz’s door opened. His head poked out of his room like a gopher. That on its own wasn’t scary, but the look in his eyes was another story. A devilish grin spread over his face.
“You going in there?” he asked, tapping his door frame aimlessly with his fingertip. He batted his eyelashes. Was it just me or was his hair extra spiky today? I knew from experience, the spikier his hair was, the greater the chance of me being embarrassed.
I took a step back from my door. “Why?” I asked. “Why are you asking that?” Whenever Daz got that look in his eyes, the only correct response was to take cover. “Why is everyone acting so weird today? Dad even said we were celebrating something today? Is that what all your texts were about?”
He shook his head, but Daz could have angel wings and be playing the harp on a cloud and he still wouldn’t look innocent.
“No reason,” he said. The mischievous glimmer in his eyes set my teeth on edge. Nodding to my door, he smiled again. “Go ahead. Go on in!”
He might as well have been telling me to hop into a live volcano at this point.
I peeked back at my door, inspecting the knob for any telltale signs of Daz prankery.
Bloodstains?
Nope.
Hidden insects?
Nope.
Superglue?
Nope.
What was he up to?
“You didn’t let one of your snakes loose in my room again, did you? I told you, I am not going to keep helping you find Oscar if you’re dumb enough to set him loose in there.”
He giggled and closed his door mysteriously. “Good luuuuck,” he said from behind the door.
I frowned, giving myself a pep talk. I will not live in fear of my brother. I will not live in fear of my brother!
Cracking my door open, I sniffed inside. It might seem weird, but there was no way he was going to get me with a skunk again like the Great Stink of ’11.
My room smelled normal from the outside.
But when I yanked my door open, my heart fell into my butt.
“Oh my God,” I breathed. My ears began to tingle, and my vision began to do swirly-whirlies. “You’re kidding me!” I steadied myself on the door frame as I gaped at her.
It wasn’t a reptile staring back at me.
Instead, it was a girl with bright eyes, clunky boots, and fingerless gloves.
A face I hadn’t seen in months!
“You’re actually here!” I yelped.
Liv—as in, the Liv, my lifelong best friend who I hadn’t seen since she moved to New Zealand—uncrossed her arms and wiggled her fingers in the air. “Surpriiiise!”
Chapter 4
The cougar holds the Guinness World Record for the animal with the most number of names. It is also called puma, mountain lion, panther, catamount, and more, depending on the region.
—Animal Wisdom
My friend Liv has a bunch of names too. Olivia. Livi. Livia. Liviola. But the most important thing about Liv? She is here RIGHT NOW.
“What are you doing here?!” I fumbled, kicking my dirty socks out of the way to reach her.
“Is that any way to greet your best friend?” Liv stood up from my bed and scrambled over to me, giving me a giant hug. She smelled like strawberry body spray and licorice.
“Sorry!” I said. “I’m just so surprised to see you! I mean, look at you!”
I didn’t mean to be staring, but I couldn’t help myself. She looked so…different! Not bad different, but not at all like the Liv that moved away six months ago. Her face was thinner, like her cheeks had lost their squishiness, and her chin had gotten a bit pointier. A knitted, wooly hat was tugged down over her ears.
When she was here, she used to live in jeans, T-shirts, and cardigans. You know, typical geeky girl stuff. But the girl in front of me was wearing tight black pants, a black long-sleeved shirt layered with a T-shirt from some band I’d never heard of, and a clunky pair of black boots that easily made her two inches taller than me. She looked like the kind of girl that cardigans would run away from in fear. Some sort of inky, dark lip gloss made her teeth look extra-white every time she smiled.
“You’re so tall!” I sputtered, stepping back to take another look at her.
And you have chesticles now! I didn’t say that part out loud.
She beamed. “Dad said I’ve grown over an inch since we left. It must be the fresh New Zealand air.” She spun around, yanked off her hat, and twirled around like a ballerina, with her dark purple-streaked hair whipping around her.
Wait.
Purple hair?!
“Whoa!” I said, reaching out to touch a lock of it. “Your parents actually let you dye your hair purple?!” I tried to picture straight-laced, cut-the-crusts-off-your-sandwich Mr. and Mrs. Reed letting Liv do something so outrageous. They wouldn’t even let her wear tinted lip gloss until she was twelve!
She grinned. “They didn’t let me, but it’s kind of too late now, isn’t it? So awesome, right? Leilani has purple hair too, but hers is more magenta-y, like hot purple. Mine’s called Violent Violet,” she said, like that explained everything.
I swallowed.
Violent Violet.
My best friend who stops to pick up ladybugs from the side of the road so they don’t get stepped on had Violent Violet hair.
I’d heard of Leilani before—that’s the girl that Liv met when she first moved to New Zealand. I was still trying to get used to hearing her name without cringing. To me, it seemed like she was put on this earth for the sole purpose of yanking away my best friend.
“How long are you here for?” My eyes popped out again as I noticed the ear stud sparkling on the top of her ear. “And what is that?!”
“Oh, this?” She tucked her hair (her purple hair!) behind her ear to show off a silvery stud. “It’s a dragon.” She nudged me with her elbow. “Almost as good as a crocodile, huh, Crocodile Girl?” She winked, but my head was spinning too much to respond.
“Whoa,” I breathed.
&
nbsp; I had to sit down.
Tucking my knees up under me on my bed, I tried to find Liv’s old self somewhere behind all the weird.
“You’ve totally changed too,” she said. “You’re taller, and your boobs look awesome.” She nodded gravely.
I snorted, thankful for the new snowman bra Mom had given me a few weeks ago. “So you are the same old Liv after all.”
With her sitting in my desk chair with her feet perched on the edge of my bed, it almost felt like old times. So what if her hair was purple and she had a dragon in her ear? She was still Liv, and for the first time since first seeing her in my room, my heart seemed to realize that. A swell of happiness bloomed inside of me.
My best friend is in my room right now.
“So,” I started to ask again, “how long can you stay?”
Liv’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “Mom and Dad said this trip could be our vacation!” she squealed. “I did awesome at school this semester, even though it’s grade nine.” She waved her hand flippantly. “And they said this would be a better time anyway, because we’re going to do our first Christmas at home when we get back! Pretty cool, right? I’ll be here for almost two weeks!”
Two weeks with Liv home!
Instantly my mind whirred with ideas for us; we could have sleepovers and make lip gloss and talk about boys and go see movies and…
She kept babbling. “I mean, I wasn’t sure if it was the best time to come here, because there’s this great program for drama starting up, and Leilani and I really wanted to get these two parts as sisters in the play, but then I figured I can probably memorize lines while I’m here anyways, so—” She stopped short.
“I’m totally rambling now, aren’t I?” she asked suddenly.
I tried to smile. A small twinge of jealously unfurled inside me to hear her talk about Leilani, but this didn’t seem like the right time to mention that. Had Liv had the chance to come visit and actually thought she might not want to? All because of some play with Leilani?
My stomach twisted.
“No, it’s fine,” I said, swallowing down the question. “It’s great to hear you in person.” I smiled gently. It wasn’t like I didn’t have new friends too.
Speaking of which, what exactly was the best way to tell her about Ashley?
I was opening my mouth to speak again when Mom popped her head into my room. “You girls all caught up yet? We’re going to eat a little early tonight so Liv can join us.” The smell of spicy taco meat and cheesy goodness wafted in behind her.
Liv kicked me gently with her big boot. “You bet, Mrs. Wright! Thanks again for helping me surprise Ana,” she said.
“No problem, hun. I was afraid Henry let the cat out of the bag when he said we were celebrating tonight. Boys,” Mom said, rolling her eyes. “It’s so nice to see you two together again, even if it is for a short while. You look so different!” She glanced at me, and I could tell she was trying to gauge if I was okay with everything.
And by everything, I mean the whole “my best friend is now an alien with purple hair, grungy shirts, and butt-kicking boots” thing.
I smiled at her as breezily as I could muster. I’m sure it came out like a twitchy grin, but another clatter from Dad in the kitchen distracted her. She always says that between the two of them, her and Dad together add up to a pretty good cook.
I beg to disagree.
“Dinner will be ready in five minutes, okay?” She darted back into the hallway. “Make sure you wash up.”
“So,” Daz said, shoveling half a taco into his mouth. “What’s the coolest thing about living in New Zealand?”
“Daz,” Mom warned. “Please eat like a civilized person, especially when we have guests.” She dabbed a glob of salsa onto her plate and sprinkled cheese onto her taco.
Daz’s face screwed up, and he looked to Dad for backup. “Since when is Liv a guest?” he asked. Strings of lettuce and cheese dangled from his chin like worms, and there was a glob of what appeared to be guacamole on his temple. At least, I hoped it was guacamole, because if not, Daz was likely contagious by now.
“Liv used to eat here practically every week before she moved away,” he pointed out.
He was right about that. But still, there was something sort of…weird about having her sitting next to me at the dinner table now. Was it the strange clothes or the hair? Usually, I gobbled down my dinner without coming up for air, but now I felt like I was trying to sit a little taller than normal and take smaller, measured bites. Why didn’t it feel like it always did when she came over for dinner before she moved away?
“Hey!” Daz interrupted again. “Have you been hearing about stuff here while you were gone?” He pointed his fork at me accusingly and waggled his eyebrows. A tense knot tightened in my stomach.
Liv perked up. “I know Ana did that crocodile presentation when the summer started!” she chimed. “Last I heard”—she turned to me—“your grandpa was working at that aquarium thingy?”
Daz erupted with laughter. “You should have seen Ana on opening day!” He wiped his hands on a napkin and licked his fingers, giggling at me. “Did you tell her about what happened with the shark tank? When you were trying to stop—”
“Hey!” I half yelled, half coughed while I kicked him under the table. Mom peered over at me with all sorts of unasked questions in her eyes.
Okay, so I didn’t exactly tell Liv a lot about last summer, including my little dip in the shark tank. But that’s only because I didn’t know how to bring it up without mentioning the whole Ashley thing. The truth was, I didn’t want to spill the beans about Ashley—and the fact that we were actually friends now—in front of my whole family. That’s the sort of thing that you mention when you’re together alone.
Preferably with ice-cream sundaes to soften the blow.
I knew Liv would flip when she heard it, and giving her time to adjust to the news was the nice thing to do. The best friend thing to do. I owed her that.
“Liv didn’t answer your first question,” I blurted, trying to cover my tracks.
I glared at Daz, trying to send him all of this telepathically. He shrugged and stuffed another taco into his mouth. I could always count on carbs to shut him up.
“So,” I said calmly, “what is the best part about New Zealand?”
Liv chewed her bite slowly, tapping her chin with her finger as she thought. She did the same thing during tests at school, only instead of her finger, she taps her pencil. It was über-weird seeing her do all the same things like chin-tapping when she looked so incredibly different.
“The people are so fun,” she said finally. “I mean, the scenery is, like, the most gorgeous stuff on the planet, and there are all these mountains and amazing beaches everywhere…”
“There are loads of mountains here,” Daz pointed out, slurping salsa from the side of his mouth.
“True,” she said. “But these mountains are different, I guess.” She turned to Mom. “Did you guys know there are no snakes in New Zealand?”
I narrowed my eyes. “Seriously? Like, none?” I tried to picture a life without snakes. In my world, that would pretty much be a life without air. A whole country without snakes?
Dad wiped his mustache with his napkin. “It’s true, kiddo. They also don’t have any large mammal predators. No bears, wolves…nada,” he explained.
I slumped down in my chair. “That doesn’t sound very interesting,” I said. I didn’t mean to sound like a snob, but come on now. No predators? Where was the excitement in that?
Liv shook her head. “But it’s so beautiful! And sometimes they don’t give you bills at your table when you go to a restaurant!”
I chewed another bite of taco. “How does that work?”
Daz jumped in. “Do you get to dine and dash?” he asked, his eyes widening.
Liv giggled, tucking so
me of her purple hair behind her ear. “No,” she said. “I mean, you could, I guess. People are a lot more trusting there, I think. When you’re done with your meal, you go up to the cash register yourself and tell them what you had and then you pay there.”
Mom smiled. “That’s very interesting, Liv. That will come in handy if we ever get to visit you there.” She dunked her neatly wrapped taco into the salsa on her plate and followed it with sour cream.
“Yup,” she said. I could tell by the way she was puffing up and grinning that she loved talking about her new home. My stomach clenched even tighter. “And there is only one native mammal species,” she added, nodding at me. “I looked that up for you. It was some teensy little bat creature that was as small as my thumb.”
Maybe it was the taco meat doing a number on my tummy, or maybe all this “Yay, New Zealand!” talk was making me edgy. I don’t remember Liv talking about her old home here like this. Had she forgotten about life here in only six months?
Mom seemed to sense the shift at the table. “And how about school? Are you enjoying it? What’s your favorite class?”
Liv smiled tightly, wiping sour cream from her lip. “High school is great!” she said, keeping her eyes down to stuff some more cheese into her taco. “I mean, it’s not like school here, but that’s okay.” Her face brightened as she spoke. “I was super worried I wasn’t going to make any friends, but I met Leilani—she’s the girl I was telling you about earlier.” She gestured to me. “She is the best. And since then, she’s introduced me to loads of people.”
I squirmed at the word best, which seemed to slither inside my heart like a viper ready to strike. Best was too close to best friend for my liking. Had Liv really changed so much she could be best-anythings with someone with purple hair?
“As for classes.” She tapped her chin again, interrupting my panic. “I love drama. I thought about joining the math club when I got there, but the kids in drama are so crazy! I’m not sure if math club would be as much fun. They’re sorta geeky,” she said.