A pretty awesome band practice might cancel out a pretty horrible first day of school, but when you add them together, you still get complete exhaustion.
What I need is a hug from my mom, I thought, and to tell her all about my crazy day. Unfortunately, Mom wasn’t home, which meant no hug and no dinner either, unless I cooked it myself. Mom is a waitress, which means that she usually works all evening. So we kind of have to fend for ourselves.
I wished I had someone to talk to. But Mari, Patti, and Nanci went to Airbrook Arts, where I bet everybody (except my brother) was cool. They didn’t know what it was like to face the snobs of the Princess Patrol. I could talk to Grandma Dotty, I thought, but she would just tell me to be grateful that I didn’t have to walk five miles to school, the way she used to. And the only other person around was…
“Stinky!” Rafe announced as he strolled into the kitchen. “That’s the perfect word to describe your band, Georgia. Seriously, I actually think We Stink is a good name. It’s kind of got a rock edge.”
I just sighed. I didn’t have the energy to think of a comeback.
“What’s wrong? Had a bad day?”
For a second I thought maybe he cared. Then I noticed the big grin on his face.
“My day was horrible,” I snapped. “Thanks to you.”
“Me?” He batted his eyelashes. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He opened the fridge, pulled out a carton of orange juice, and chugged down, like, half of it. Gross.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” I replied. “That’s some path you’ve blazed for me at HVMS.”
“That’s because I was the only interesting person who ever went there,” Rafe replied. He chugged more juice.
“Yeah, I met your buddy Miller’s little brother. I think we’ll be hanging out a lot.” My voice was dripping with sarcasm.
“Did he bother you?” Rafe asked. He didn’t have a smirk on his face now.
“He’s nothing I can’t handle. Anyway, all my teachers are amazed that you’re still in school,” I told him, “instead of jail.”
Rafe shrugged. “I wouldn’t even call them teachers. More like wardens. Admit it—I was right and you were wrong.”
I wasn’t about to agree with him. “One day doesn’t mean anything,” I told him, walking to the cupboard to take out a box of pasta. “It’s going to get better.”
“Wrong.”
I whirled to face him. “I’m not you, Rafe. I know how to make friends. I know how to get good grades. I guarantee that in four weeks, I’ll have straight A’s, and I’ll be one of the most popular girls at school.”
The Princess Patrol will be begging me to hang out with them, I thought. My teachers will have forgotten Rafe ever existed.
“Wanna bet?” Rafe’s eyebrows shot up. “In four weeks, you’ll have zero friends, and you’ll be begging to get out of HVMS.”
I folded my arms across my chest. “Yeah. I do want to bet.” The wheels were already spinning in my mind.
My brother looked a little surprised. “What should we bet?”
“Loser does the winner’s chores for a month.”
Rafe looked around the kitchen at the unswept floor, the dishes piled in the sink, the crumbs on the counter. The rest of our house was more of the same: like the “before” picture on a home-makeover show. There were loads of chores to be done—and I would think up plenty more when I won.
Rafe grinned again. “Deal,” he said, and we shook on it. He seemed pretty confident.
I couldn’t wait to wipe the smile right off his face… and prove to everyone that the only problem I had at HVMS was having RAFE for a brother.