“IT WAS dumb, I know, but you don’t understand.”
Mom sits at my desk with Peg Leg Fred in her lap. I’m across from her, sitting cross-legged on my bed.
“I understand more than you think, Birdie, but you’re at the age when you have to make smarter decisions than this. You know better than to set off a stink bomb in someone’s house. Even if Rose doesn’t.”
“But I didn’t do it!”
“You didn’t stop it. And that’s almost as bad.”
I stare at the floor. Her disappointed voice makes my stomach hurt. “I’m sorry,” I say, and we sit there in silence.
“Okay,” Mom says. “There are going to be people like Rose through your whole life, and you need to learn to stand up to them.”
That’s when I realize my mom doesn’t get it at all. “I can stand up to Rose, Mom! That’s not it. She didn’t make me do it!”
“Then why did you do it?”
The truth is burning in my throat. Because Rose is going to leave and I may never see her again. Because she was going to do it anyway and I didn’t want her to have to do it alone. Because I am going to be a friendless freak without her and Ally at school next year. Because I’m sad and afraid. But all I say is, “I don’t know.”
“Is this about middle school?” she asks.
“Maybe,” I mumble. “I’m going to be by myself. I’m not going to know anybody. I’m going to be…” The words drift off.
“What are you going to be?” she asks.
“I don’t know.” My eyes search hers. “Alone.”
“Hmmm,” she says. “You haven’t been alone for a long time.”
“And it’s middle school and there’ll be new kids and I just don’t know how to do it without them.”
Mom looks at me long and hard. “Is this because you look different than them?” She places her vanilla hand on my mocha knee and I know what she means.
“No!” I say. “I mean, I don’t think so.” It’s true, where I go to school, most kids are white, but nobody cares much about things like that. Even in Atlanta. But I’ve been sandwiched in between my two white friends for a long time. Maybe without them, I will be different.
“I know we haven’t made it simple for you and Zora. But we’re always here to help you through any of it. You know that, right?”
“Yeah, I know. It’s just … I don’t know how to make friends anymore. Rose and Ally, they’ll make new friends. Not because they’re white. Because they’re … Rose and Ally. I’m not like them, Mom. I’ve already made my friends. It might be over for me.”
“Oh, Birdie. You’ll make friends. It came so easily for you with Ally and Rose. You’re just out of practice. There’re new friends waiting for you. New middle school friends.”
“I don’t want new middle school friends,” I say quietly.
“You will.” She hands me Peg Leg and stands up. “Now, listen. You’re grounded. No pool, no friends. Our yard, our house. Until your birthday.”
“Until my birthday! That’s almost two weeks away!”
“Play with your sister and be a model citizen and you might get off early for good behavior. Okay?”
I can’t believe it. We can’t afford to lose two weeks! “But, Mom!” She doesn’t say anything, just gives me that look that says This is final.
“Okay,” I finally say.
Mom kisses me on the forehead. “It’s going to be all right, little one. I promise.”
“Mom?” I ask as she starts to leave. “I can still have my birthday sleepover, right?” It’s been planned for months.
“Model citizens get sleepovers. Which might leave Rose out for quite some time.”
* * *
Our yard. Our house. I am allowed to text Rose and Ally from my mom’s phone to tell them not to come over or call until my birthday. I’m to have no contact other than this. Mom is going to talk to their mothers if there will be a sleepover. So I’m completely in the dark. I won’t know how badly Rose gets punished. I won’t know if Ally wins the game before the championships. And I won’t know if I’m having a birthday.
During my first week of house arrest, I’m either reading in my room or playing with Zora in the front yard, trying to be a model citizen who deserves a birthday sleepover. I’m hoping to see Rose nonchalantly walking by our house, but that doesn’t happen. So I have to assume that she’s grounded, too.
I sit through every morning of Super Summer Mathematics Camp. I play every game we have in the house with Zora. I help Dad finish cleaning out the garage. And I daydream about Ruthie Delgado and Girl Detective.
It’s the longest week of my life and it doesn’t end the next Saturday. I plead with Mom, but she says my time isn’t quite up yet. “What about my good behavior?” I ask.
“You’ll remember this next time you think about setting off stink bombs,” was her only reply.
So I miss Ally’s game. I lie on my bed and picture her on the pitcher’s mound, striking out boy after boy. Ally will catch a spider in a cup and take it outside, but when it comes to boys and baseball, she has no mercy.
On Monday, hallelujah! Dad takes Zora and me to the library. I practically kiss the sidewalk outside the library door I’m so happy to be there.
As we walk inside, I wave to Mrs. Thompson, who’s checking out books at the counter. She sees me slip the book she recommended into the return bin and I give her a thumbs-up.
“Can we come see her, Dad?” I ask, pointing to the poster over Mrs. Thompson’s head—the one about the author coming to sign books here in August.
Dad looks up at the face of Emily McAllister, who’s smiling down at us. “I didn’t know she was from Atlanta. That’s pretty cool.”
“You know who she is?”
“Sure. Emily McAllister is a big-time mystery writer. And coming to our local library.” He grins at me. “Yes, we should definitely come.”
I give him my first genuine smile in over a week.
As Dad takes Zora to the science section, I wander over to my section and start sifting through books, searching for something new. Finishing one row, I turn up the other and practically collide with Romeo.
“Hi,” he says, equally surprised to see me.
“Oh, hi,” I say, wishing I’d gone down the other row instead.
“How’s it going?” he asks. He’s got a Percy Jackson book in his hand, the one about the labyrinth.
“Okay, I guess.” I look past him. Where are Dad and Zora when you need them?
“I was looking for you at Ally’s game. She said you got grounded.”
“Yeah,” I say, then brighten. “How’d it go? What happened?”
“She won. Six to zip. She pitched a great game.”
“I’m so glad,” I say, relieved.
“Don’t tell Joey, but me too. It’s kind of fun to watch him freak out because a girl might be better than him.”
I grin. “How’d you guys do?”
Mrs. Thompson walks by and puts her finger to her lips. “Shhh.”
“Sorry,” I say and we stay silent until she leaves the section.
“We won,” he whispers. “But I think Joey’s starting to get nervous. The middle school coach is coming to the championship game. He’s going to scout them.”
“That’s awesome. Does Ally know?”
“I think so.”
“She must be super excited.”
“You’ll be at the game, right?”
“Yes.” I whisper. “I’ll be there.”
“Cool,” he says and just stands there looking at me.
“Uh, listen,” I finally say and look around. There’s a girl from school at the end of the row. “Come with me.” I lead him to the back of the kid’s section. “I have to ask you something.”
“Sure. Shoot.”
I bite my bottom lip, then ask. “Do you like Rose?”
I can tell he wasn’t expecting that question. “Uh, yeah, I guess. Rose is cool.”
“No, I mean, do you like her like her?”
“I don’t get it, Birdie. Didn’t you get my Valentine’s card?”
I start to blush. “Yeah, I got it but—”
“No, I don’t like Rose. Not that way.”
My mouth goes dry. “Yeah, but she—”
“I like you.”
I don’t know what to say. I feel all weird inside. So I play the eleven-year-old card. “I’m not old enough, Romeo. I’m not even into boys yet.”
“I can wait,” he whispers. “We’re going to middle school together. It’ll be fun.”
“Okay,” I say because that’s all I can think of. I look pointedly at the clock on the wall. “I’ve got to go.”
Dad’s surprised when I find them and want to leave the library early. I never want to leave the library. On the way home, Zora leans forward in the backseat and loudly whispers, “Birdie’s got a boyfriend.”
I whip my head around. “Do not!”
“Do too! I saw you.”
“Zora, quit sneaking around all the time!” I say and turn back toward the front.
“I won’t tell your mom,” Dad says, “but when you’re grounded, I don’t think you’re supposed to talk to any friends.”
“You mean boyfriends, Dad,” Zora adds.
“Zora!” I exclaim. “It was just some boy from school,” I say to Dad. “And he was talking to me.”
“So it begins,” he says.
“What do you mean?”
“My little girls and boys talking to them.” He shakes his head. “You know they’re going to have to come through me first.”
“Dad, I’m only eleven.”
“You’re almost twelve. Almost sixteen. I might start to cry.”
“Daddy’s going to cry?!” Zora shrieks from the backseat.
“Daddy’s going to cry!” Dad yells, and even through I’m grounded and freaked-out by a boy, I can’t help but laugh.
When we get home, Dad and Zora start making dinner. They usually cook dinner, and Mom and I usually clean up. I say I’m going to my room to read but that’s not why I’m going there. I’m going there to look at the clue again.
Something about seeing that poster of the mystery writer reminds me that mysteries are supposed to be solved and the next clue is just waiting to be discovered. The trail feels cold but maybe it’s not. Maybe I’m just missing something and it’s my job to figure this out. Ruthie Delgado and Girl Detective are depending on it.
I pull the Open If You Dare box out from under my bed and unclasp the lid. There’s the ring, the ticket, and the clue, right where I left them.
The ring. I don’t think it’s haunted like Ally does, but I’m still not sure why it’s here. Did it belong to Ruthie or Girl Detective? And what does it mean? I place it on my bookshelf because if I see it every day, it might help me think of something.
The ticket. I reexamine the name scrawled across the back, Ruthie’s name. But Ruthie didn’t go to the Allman Brothers Band concert in 1973 because the ticket was never torn in half. So why is this significant?
The clue. I read it again:
R.D. is not alone anymore.
Because now I’m a dead girl, too.
I could have mailed this (I could have!) but
I’m not going to make it easy for you this time.
You know her address.
Where feathers are hard.
Keep following the clues!
Because he’s still out there.
You’re not making it easy for me is what I think. Especially if the next clue was destroyed when the Yukimotos remodeled the Gillans’ house. And if it wasn’t, it could be anywhere over there. As long as that’s the right address. But it’s the only address we have.
My room is at the front of our house and my side windows overlook the Gillans’ front yard. My eyes scan the area: the front porch, the koi pond, the garage. Everything’s new, or at least newish, over there. Nothing from 1973. As I lean back on my bed, I look at the haunted ring on my shelf and ask Girl Detective for help.