“Where you goin’, Oddball?” Mandy waves me down.
“Oh, hey Mandy.” I pull over to the curb where she’s standing outside the town’s café. “I’m making deliveries for Miss Peachcott. What’s up?”
“You wanna get a hot chocolate? I been meaning to talk to you about something.”
Hot chocolate! I’d love a hot chocolate, but that would mean spending some of my stash.
“My treat,” Mandy says, reading my mind. “It’s important.”
Parking my bike, I follow her inside. We kick the slush off our boots, unzip parkas and pull off mittens, then slide into a booth. When the waitress walks up, Mandy orders two hot cocoas and an order of cheesy fries.
“So what’s so important? I got other business with Miss Peachcott today.” I don’t tell Mandy about my job as tester and dabber. I’m tired of livening things up in this one-horse town.
“I wanna talk about business, too,” she says. “School business. I’ve decided you should run for Ice Crystal Prince.”
“What? I don’t care anything about that.”
“But you gotta care. You’ll be running against Matt.”
“Running against Matt! Are you crazy?”
“I already told him that you were going to. He was mad enough to bite nails in half.”
“You what? Why’d you go and do that?”
“Why not?”
“ ’Cause I’m not gonna do it.”
The waitress brings our order, and we sit still until she leaves, glaring at each other.
“Why not?” Mandy asks again when we’re alone. “You gotta be tired of him rubbing your nose in it all the time. I know I’m tired of it.”
“I wouldn’t stand a chance.” I stuff my mouth full of fries, wondering what Mandy would do if I told her the truth. I decide I can’t risk it, not this close to leaving Clearview in my dust.
“Sure you would,” she says. “The fifth-graders in The Great Escape respect you now that you’re Mrs. Bixby’s assistant. I know I could get them to support you—and talk to their friends. Someone needs to put Matt in his place.”
She’s right. Someone does need to give Matt his comeuppance, but that someone’s not me. I have other things on my mind. My escape.
“I can’t,” I say. Slurping down my cocoa, I get up to leave.
“Wait,” she says. “Why not?”
“I . . . I just can’t, that’s all.”
Mandy grabs my arm. “I been a good friend, Frankie Joe Huckaby. You owe me a reason—a real reason.”
She has been a good friend. One of the best.
“ ’Cause . . .’cause he’s my brother.”
“I can’t believe you said that,” she snorts. “It doesn’t seem to make any difference with him.”
I know, I think as I zip up my parka. But she didn’t see how hard Lizzie and FJ worked on Matt’s posters and ballot box. And she didn’t see how important it was for Matt to be number one again at something.
“You’re weird, Frankie Joe Huckaby,” she yells at me. “Weird Scared Sneaky Freaky Slow Frankie Joe!”
Great. Now my only friend is calling me names.
Matt ambushes me as soon as I get back from Miss Peachcott’s house.
“You’re running against me!” He shoves my bike and me down in a snowbank. “I hate you, Frankie Joe. You’ve messed up everything since you came here. I wish you’d get run over by a snowplow . . . or freeze to death in a blizzard.”
Tears are sliding down his cheeks, and his nose is running. I figure out he’s talking about the Ice Crystal Contest. “Hey, I’m not—”
“Mandy told me. You’re gonna split the vote so I won’t win Ice Crystal Prince. You know the kids in The Great Escape will vote for you.”
“Matt—I’m not running!”
He wipes his nose on his sleeve. “You’re . . . not?”
“No.” I get up out of the snowbank and brush off my clothes. “That was Mandy’s idea. I told her this morning I’m not gonna do it.”
“But . . . why?”
Why do people always want a reason?
“ ’Cause”—I try to think of a lie—“ ’cause FJ would say it wasn’t right.” Which is the truth.
“Yeah,” he mumbles. “Yeah, he wouldn’t like us running against each other.”
“And it would hurt Lizzie. She’s been nice to me since I came here.”
Matt’s face turns red.
“It’s no big deal to me.” Which is the truth. It’s a huge deal to Matt, but all I care about is getting back home.
“Sorry about your bike.” Matt picks up my bike and pushes it to the front porch. “And, uh, I didn’t mean those things I said. I was just mad. Okay?”
“It’s okay,” I tell him. “I’ve wished those same things about you. I guess I didn’t mean them, either.”
I just grin.
That night I rewrite my escape plan after I’ve finished my chores and homework.
Tarp Found one half price at the farm supply store.
Spare bike tube and flat kit Bought at the gas station.
Pot for cooking Salvaged.
Matches to start a fire Picked up three books at Gambino’s Pizza Parlor.
Canteen Have two empty plastic bottles.
Jacket My Michelin-Man jacket.
Bungee cord The one Lizzie gave me for pizza delivery.
Money Still need more.
Mementos Need plastic bags to keep them dry and clean. Get from the kitchen.
Triple A maps Need a plastic bag for them, too.
Clothes All set.
“Now all I have to do is wait for the snow to melt—”
I hear a creak on the stairs and see FJ come into view. Hurriedly I close my notebook.
He walks over to me. “What’s this I’m hearing?”
I wonder if Matt squealed about me looking for the tarp? Or if Mr. Puffin told him I was asking questions about when the snow ended?
“Mr. Arnt told me that you were elected Mrs. Bixby’s assistant.”
“Oh,” I say, feeling relieved. “It wasn’t my idea.”
“Well, I hear it was you stepped up to fix the problem. Glad to see you’ve learned what that means.” He points to the definition of responsibility taped to the wall.
He thinks that’s why I did it?
He checks his watch. “Almost time for lights-out. Just wanted to tell you to keep up the good work.”
“Thanks,” I mumble.
FJ hesitates at the top of the stairs, a serious look on his face. “Growing up means you accept responsibility, even when it’s not easy. Sometimes that involves difficult decisions.” He looks at me. “You understand what I’m telling you, Frankie Joe?”
I look at the definition on the wall again. “Um, I think so.”
“Good. Lights-out in five minutes.” The stairs creak again as he goes downstairs.
I remove the definition for responsibility from the wall and throw it into the wastebasket.
Woo-hoo. He’s telling me I don’t have to read this definition anymore.