“WE’RE GOING TO AUNT JEANETTE’S for dinner,” Bett’s mom told her when Eddie’s bus had brought Bett home after detention. All had been quiet on that bus. Ranger and Mutt were tired out from practice, and besides, Bett and Dan had threatened Ranger within an inch of his life if he opened his mouth.
“What’s going on?” Eddie had asked, looking at Bett and Dan in the mirror, his brows furrowed. “Are you two that mad you got detention?”
“No,” Bett had said.
“We were just thinking about our wrongdoings,” Dan improvised.
Mutt grunted. “Aren’t you angels.”
“Shut up, dillhole,” said Dan.
And now here was Bett’s mother, with folded arms and that look she got on her face when Bett was in trouble. “The school office called to let me know you had detention today. We will discuss why, in detail, at Aunt Jeanette’s,” she said.
“I can’t come,” said Bett. “I have to go out. A meeting. For school.”
“Really,” said Bett’s mother. Her hair was particularly curly and pyramiddy today, what with the rain earlier. “You think you get detention and then you can just go out, la-di-da?”
“No,” said Bett. “But it’s for school. And all I got detention for was texting on the bus, and I was only texting because me and Dan didn’t want to hurt his little brother’s feelings.”
“What brought on this noble sentiment?” asked her mother.
“He . . .” Bett thought quickly. “Ranger was wearing a stupid hat, and we were trying to think of ways to talk him out of it so he wouldn’t get teased.”
Bett’s mother held out her hand for Bett’s phone. Bett forked it over and prayed.
“All right,” her mom said at last, after reading the texts. “But don’t break rules like that in the future. Even to help a little kid. And why would he be scared about a hat when you have so much else going on over there? Seriously, Bett. I talked to your principal again today. Devil drawings? Smashed glass? Why do I discuss everything with McLean before my own daughter?”
“I just got home!” Bett protested. “You know more than I do, up at the school with all your questioning. You’re the one who doesn’t tell me anything.”
Bett’s mother raised one eyebrow at her. “Be home by ten,” she said finally. Bett’s shoulders relaxed. “And quit texting when you aren’t supposed to,” she added, “or that phone becomes mine.”