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Emma
“Dare you to knock on her door.” Isabelle elbowed Emma in the side hard enough to hurt, and cherry slushy dripped off the end of Isabelle’s straw and onto Emma’s toe.
Emma stopped walking and shook her foot, but the slushy was like glue. Gross red glue. “Yuck, Isabelle! You don’t need to whip your straw around spraying cherry syrup everywhere!”
The other three girls stopped walking too.
“Oh, relax, Miss Drama Queen,” Isabelle said. “It’s not like you can’t take a shower. And stop dodging the dare.”
“I’m not dodging the dare.” Emma started walking again.
Isabelle didn’t follow. She just stood there in the street, holding her stupid slushy in one hand and chewing on her straw. “Oh, you’re not, are you?”
Emma didn’t turn around.
“Prove it.”
Finally, Emma turned and looked at her friends. “Don’t be stupid. That’s a stupid dare, and I’m not doing it. You’re all acting like little kids.” She turned away and started walking again.
“Chicken!” Natalie called after her.
Why were her friends siding with Isabelle again? This was so stupid. She didn’t know what to do. She certainly wasn’t going to go knock on Mrs. Patterson’s door, no matter what. That would be embarrassing, not to mention kind of mean to Mrs. Patterson. But neither did Emma want to walk around town alone. That gave her the creeps, and someone was sure to tell her dad, and she would get in trouble. But going home was her last choice. Both of her parents were always exhausted after church, and they were probably napping or watching separate televisions—either way, they’d want her to be quiet so they could “rest.”
She hated Sundays.
Trying to be firm, she continued walking, not knowing where she was going. Eventually, her friends gave up and caught up to her. Breath rushed out of her.
“I don’t know why you don’t want to do it,” Isabelle said.
“I don’t know why you want me to,” Emma fired back.
“Because it would be hilarious,” Raven chimed in.
“No, it wouldn’t be. Where are we going, anyway? Let’s go to the boat landing.”
“Okay, let’s,” Isabelle said, and skipped ahead. Then she turned to face them. “Why are you so scared of your neighbor?”
“I’m not scared of her,” Emma said, though this wasn’t entirely true. “She’s a sad old lady. I don’t want to make her sadder by messing with her.”
“Have you ever seen her?” Natalie asked.
No, she hadn’t, but she didn’t want to tell them that and deepen the intrigue.
“I wonder what she looks like,” Isabelle said. “Maybe she’s a hunchback or something. I don’t know anyone who has seen her. You should knock on the door, and then when she comes to answer it, take her picture and then run away. Then you could show everyone what she looks like!”
Emma rolled her eyes. “Your ideas keep getting worse.”
“No, they keep getting better.”
“I’ll do it!” Raven suddenly declared.
Emma’s stomach rolled. She couldn’t have any part of this. Her father would kill her.
Isabelle and Natalie stopped walking. “You will?” Isabelle said slowly, emphasizing her doubt.
Emma was surprised too. Raven was usually the last person to accept a dare.
“All I have to do is take her picture and run away, right?” She was already having second thoughts.
Isabelle put her arm around her. “Right. We’ll be waiting in Emma’s backyard. Run right for us, and then we’ll all run to the boat landing.”
“Okay,” Raven said tentatively. She started to slide the phone out of her back pocket.
“Here,” Isabelle said, shoving her phone in her face, “use mine.”
“Why?”
“It’s better.”
Though Isabelle’s phone was better, or at least miles more expensive, Emma knew that wasn’t why she was pushing it into Raven’s face. They had to use her phone so that she could show the picture to anyone and everyone who would look, and then take credit for the prank. Emma didn’t want to be friends with Isabelle anymore, but it was so hard to avoid her. Isabelle was everywhere—even in church.
They started walking toward Mrs. Patterson’s house, and Emma tried to think of a way to stop this. “I don’t think this is a good idea.” She hated how wobbly and weak her voice sounded.
“Obviously,” Isabelle said, “and obviously you are wrong, and it is a very good idea.”
Though it was the middle of the afternoon and the sun was high and bright in the sky, Isabelle made a show of slinking along the side of Emma’s house to reach the backyard. Anyone driving by could see them. Mrs. Patterson, if she looked out her window, could see them. Isabelle went behind the grapevines and then pulled Natalie in with her. “Come on, hide!”
Raven ducked behind the vines too.
“Not you.” Isabelle pushed her back out. “You’ve got a job to do.”
Raven didn’t move.
“You don’t have to do this,” Emma said.
“Yes, she does. Stop trying to take away her fun. You’re just jealous because you didn’t dare to do it.”
Emma rolled her eyes.
“What does she look like?” Raven asked. “Is she scary?” Raven was the youngest girl in their class and acted it.
“No, she’s just an old woman, and we really shouldn’t be picking on her.”
Isabelle elbowed Emma again, even harder this time. Then she looked at Raven. “We don’t know what she looks like. That’s the whole point. Now go, or we give up on you.”
