I couldn’t let the green-hair thing go. I needed revenge.
I know what you’re thinking: “Sheesh, Georgia’s been a little harsh on Rafe, hasn’t she?” Yeah. I have. But you need to understand something: He ruined my life. I had always loved school. I’d always been good at it. And now it was horrible, and it was all Rafe’s fault.
He was my brother, and I was stuck with him… but he was stuck with me too. And I would make him pay. I rubbed my hands together like an evil mad scientist. (Hey, I already had the hair to match.)
When I came into the kitchen, Rafe was there, chugging milk straight from the plastic jug. Seriously. Again with the chugging!
I bit back a comment about backwash and picked an apple out of the fruit bowl. “Hey, you got a phone call earlier,” I said, like the thought had just occurred to me.
Rafe looked stumped, as if I had just told him a riddle. “Who?”
“Oh… wait… I can’t remember her name.” I took a bite of the apple, pretending to rack my brain.
Rafe’s eyes bugged out when I said “her.” “Someone from Airbrook?”
“No… it was someone from HVMS,” I said. “Someone who used to know you.”
“Jeanne Galletta?”
I snapped my fingers. “That’s it. Sorry I didn’t write it down. She said you had the number?”
Rafe looked thrilled, as if I’d just told him Santa Claus was real and he was coming over for dinner.
Rafe grabbed the phone from the wall and started to punch in the numbers. He has her number memorized? I don’t think he even realized how huge his smile was. Rafe was happier than I’d seen him in weeks.
And that was when I knew that this was really mean. Too mean. Meaner than turning someone’s hair green.
“Wait—” I said. I didn’t want to be an evil mad scientist.
“Hey, Jeanne?” Rafe grinned. “Hey, it’s Rafe!” There was a pause. “Yeah, that Rafe.” Another pause. His smile faltered a bit. “Well… I called because I heard you left a message earlier….” My brother looked at me, clearly confused. “Oh. Oh, yeah. Of course not. It, uh, must have been Jeanne from my new school….” He gave a fake little laugh, but his face was so red I thought it might melt off.
He glared in my direction. Yikes. I wanted to tell him I was sorry, but he was still on the phone with Jeanne.
“Oh, yeah, I really like Airbrook Arts,” Rafe said cheerfully into the receiver. Watch out, he mouthed at me, eyes narrowed. “How’s HVMS? What are you up to?” Then he turned his back on me and started toward the stairs. I heard him slam the door to his bedroom.
I looked down at my apple. I’d only taken one bite, but I didn’t want it anymore.
It ain’t easy being mean.