Man, this creeper can’t catch a break.
Last night, Sam and I were sledding. Yeah, I know, I should be mad at him for turning me into a Talking Tree. But Sam’s kind of got me in a trap, because he still has my sled. And there’s still snow on the ground. So . . .
I met him at the hill and pretended like everything was cool. But it STOPPED being cool when Chloe showed up.
Let me back up for a sec. You know how Mom has been all about family time lately? Well, she keeps coming up with these new family traditions. And I think she’s getting ideas from all the wrong people.
At dinner, she decided that our “tradition of the day” would be to get a Christmas tree. SERIOUSLY??? It’s like all the Christmas trees of the Overworld have turned against me and decided to make my life miserable.
I still have lines on my face from the twinkly lights wrapped around my head the other night, so the LAST thing I want to see in our living room is one of those dead trees. I’d almost rather see a CACTUS there. (Wait, scratch that. I didn’t really mean it.)
Anyway, when Mom invited us all to go get a tree together, I told her I couldn’t. “I have important holiday business to take care of,” I fibbed.
Mom actually smiled at that. Maybe she thought I was going shopping for gifts for the family. And that counted as “family time,” so she let me off the hook. (I’ll have to remember that excuse for later. It’s a keeper.)
But I’d only taken one turn on the sled before Chloe showed up. Mom, Cate, and Cammy were right behind her, lugging a really big spruce tree across the snow. Dad was nowhere in sight, so I figured he must have sneaked off for some “business” of his own. Have I mentioned Dad is a master sneaker-offer?
Anyway, when Chloe saw me standing by the sled, she shouted, “Hey, whose sled is that?”
Sam was just getting onto the sled. He was about to tell her EXACTLY who owned the sled. “Ger—“ he started to say.
That was when I gave the sled a little nudge with my foot, just to help him along. As he took off down the hill with a surprised look on his jiggly green face, I finished his word for him. “Ger . . . onimo!”
Then I turned to Chloe and said, “It’s Sam’s sled. Obviously.”
But she narrowed her eyes. She KNEW. And when I got home this morning, she busted me.
“You didn’t return the s-s-sled to the s-s-store,” she hissed. “Your s-s-slimy friend S-S-Sam is HIDING it for you. And I’m going to tell Mom.” Then she cocked her creeper head. “Unlessss . . .”
She was working up to another bribe, I could tell. So I told her right away I didn’t have any more emeralds. That wasn’t totally true. But I wasn’t about to give the emeralds I’d earned as a Talking Tree to my Evil Twin. No way, no how.
“Unless . . .” she said again, “you and Sam give me a ride to school every night. On that sled.”
I blew out my breath and stared at her. Was she bluffing? Usually, Chloe didn’t want anything to do with me at school. She didn’t even want other mobs to know we were related. So maybe this was just a threat and she wouldn’t follow through.
“Whatever,” I grumbled. I pretended to give in so that she would just GO AWAY. And she did.
I don’t know yet if I’m going to have to drag my sister to school on that sled, but I do know this: the one thing I thought I’d checked off my 30-Day Plan is now back on.
“One step forward, two steps back,” Dad likes to say. I never knew what he meant by that. But this morning, I know EXACTLY what he means.