I busted up so hard that everyone in the store turned to look at me. I mean, Heather's my archenemy, not hers, but everything she was saying was so spot-on that it was like she'd been the one harassed by Heather all year.
When my laughing wound down, I asked, “What did she do to you?”
“What did she do to me?” She seemed to take a step back, even though she stayed right where she was. “She tortured you.”
“But …”
“She was evil! Awful! How can anyone be so terrible?” She shook her head. “All year I just wanted to smack her.” She grabbed my arm. “But you stood up to her and won! And now her brother likes you and she's insane over that.” She rubbed her hands together. “It's all so … satisfying!”
All of a sudden I was not laughing. I was staring at Cricket and feeling very, very weird. She was treating me like the star of some teen-drama reality show that she hadn't missed one episode of. She knew a lot about my life—about my archenemy and her brother and my friends and all the action that had gone down at school— but I knew nothing about her.
She was just Cricket Kuo, Quiet Girl.
Macaroni Angel Girl.
“So what are you buying?” I asked, suddenly wanting to change the subject.
“Backpacking food!” she said, like she'd been saving up all year for this very moment. “We're hiking out to Vista Ridge to see condors!”
“Condors? I thought they were extinct or …”
Her eyes got wide. “They were almost extinct, but they're making a comeback! We hike out to a tracking station where we can monitor them.” She tossed a couple of freeze-dried pouches into her basket. “Everyone who's seen a condor soaring over the canyon says it's the most amazing sight, and this time I'm not leaving until I spot one!”
“So how far do you have to hike?”
“Aaaactually …” She pulled a little face. “We drive most of the way. There's a road clear up to the tracking station, but it's steep and full of potholes, and there's a gully you need a four-wheel drive to ford. So we just get as close as we can and hike the rest.” She shrugged. “It's only about five miles.”
“Your whole family's into this?”
She stopped cold, then seemed to thaw from her fingertips, up her arms, to her shoulders. “I'm going with my Scout troop,” she said quietly, then gave me a shy smile. “Remember? I told you about it once?”
I racked my brains, and yeah, I kind of remembered her inviting me to go on an outing with them. It was when she'd given me the macaroni angel. Or thereabouts.
“We don't wear uniforms or anything. We're just a group that likes to camp.” She was looking down, and her voice had dropped to a whisper. “We don't look like the girls you see on cookie boxes.”
I didn't know what to say. She was acting apologetic and so embarrassed.
“You would like it, Sammy,” she whispered. “You really would.”
I shrugged. “Probably so.”
Mistake! All of sudden her face is twitching and popping and lit up like fireworks, and she says, “Why don't you come! You'd have a blast! Vista Ridge has the most amazing views! You could share my tent! You could share my food!” She turns over a pouch of freeze-dried Santa Fe Chicken with Rice. “See? Serving size: two! I don't mind! I'll buy more!”
“Whoa, Cricket, hang on! I've never been backpacking. I don't know how. I don't have any gear!”
And what does she do with this camp-killing news flash?
She looks at my feet.
“What's your shoe size?”
“A seven …?”
She hops up and down. “You can borrow boots from me! And a pack from my brother! And Robin has extra sleeping bags! You'll love Robin—she's our leader and she's good friends with Coach Rothhammer!”
Now, the fact that her leader was good friends with my softball coach was a plus. I respect Ms. Rothhammer. As Grams says, she's got backbone. But still, it wasn't reason enough to go backpacking.
So while Cricket's whipping around the store, tossing one thing after another into her basket, I'm trailing behind her going, “But I, um … I don't know if I can…. Cricket … ? Hey, Cricket! Hold on a minute…. Cricket?”
But there's no stopping this girl. When she's done filling up her basket, she grabs me by the arm and yanks me toward the checkout line. “Come on! There's a ton to do before tomorrow!”
“You're leaving tomorrow?”
“We're leaving tomorrow.”
I didn't really want to, but I was desperate to do something, anything, besides hang around the mall.
So yeah, I was doomed.
I was so doomed.
Published by Yearling an imprint of Random House Children's Books a division of Random House, Inc. New York
Text copyright © 2005 by Wendelin Van Draanen Parsons
Illustrations copyright © 2005 by Dan Yaccarino
“Yo Ho (A Pirate's Life for Me)” from PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN at Disneyland Park and Magic Kingdom Park. Words by Xavier Atencio. Music by George Bruns © 1967 Walt Disney Music Company. Copyright renewed. All rights reserved. Used by permission.
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eISBN: 978-0-307-54499-5
May 2007
v3.0
Sammy Keyes and the Dead Giveaway Page 22