Middle School: My Brother Is a Big, Fat Liar (15 page)

There was a soft knock at my door.
Rafe
, I thought.
He’s come to gloat
. “Go away.”

“What did you say, Carolina?” Grandma Dotty asked as she opened the door. “ ‘Slow decay’?”

“No, I—never mind. Come on in.”

Grandma Dotty sat down at the foot of my bed and rubbed my back for a minute. Mom used to do that when I was little. I forgot how nice it could feel. “What’s wrong, honey?”

“Nothing.”

“Hmm. Then why are you lying facedown on your bed?”

Sighing, I sat up. “It’s just—Rafe got his progress report today. He got one lousy A, and Mom is acting like he just got into college. He even got a C! Do you know what would happen if I got a C?”

Dotty clapped. “An A is marvelous!”

“But I get straight A’s all the time!” I wailed. “And Mom never made me a pie!”

Grandma Dotty looked thoughtful. “She never made me a pie for my report card either.”

What?
Mom wasn’t even alive when Grandma got her report card.
Well, maybe that’s Dotty’s point—that life isn’t fair.

“I want pie too,” I grumbled.

“Well, maybe Rafe will let you have some.” Dotty smiled and took my hand in her wrinkly old one. I knew she was trying to help, but she wasn’t really getting my point. “It’s good that your brother is doing well in art school,” Dotty went on. “He’s never been the greatest student, you know.”

“Tell me about it.” I rolled my eyes.

“He’s like your mother in that way. They’re both born artists. They aren’t much good at regular school. They’re a lot alike, in good ways and bad.” Grandma Dotty smiled, and her brown eyes twinkled.

“Am I like my mom?” I asked. “Like she used to be?” I was hoping Dotty would say that both Mom and I were smart. Or musical. Or kind, maybe.

Dotty shrugged. “How should I know?” she asked. “I don’t know what your mother was like when she was your age.”

What? She doesn’t know my mom?

I wanted to say it out loud, but I thought it might be kinda cruel. I mean, Dotty’s memory is kind of Swiss cheesy. There are holes. There’s nothing she can do about it. Why make her feel worse?

Let’s face it: That’s what makes Grandma Dotty a little… dotty. Or more like completely dotty. And we all love her anyway.

I
have to tell them
, I thought as my fingers plucked the strings of my electric guitar.
I have to tell them. I’ll tell them right after this song.

The song ended. I didn’t tell them.

Mari, Nanci, and Patti still had no idea that Rafe had signed us up for the Battle of the Bands yesterday. I wished I could put off telling them forever, but I knew I couldn’t. For one thing, Rhonda was watching our rehearsal, and she was
dying
to tell my friends about our upcoming “gig.”

More like a gag.

If I didn’t say anything, I knew Rhonda would. And that wouldn’t be pretty.

Okay, I couldn’t let that happen.

“I’m beat,” Mari announced when the next song ended.

“Yeah, I have to get home,” Patti added, wrapping a scarf around her neck. “Mom needs me to mow the lawn.”

“So, we’ll rehearse again next week?” Nanci asked. She shoved her drumsticks into her back pocket and dug her hand into a bag of chips. “Same time, same place?”

Rhonda gaped at me.
TELL THEM!
she mouthed.

“Wait,” I said. My friends turned to look at me.

“What’s up, Georgia?” Mari asked.

“Um…” The only way to say it was to spew it. “Rafe signed us up for the Battle of the Bands which is in eight days so we have to practice because we’ll be performing in front of the whole school and our names are already on the program so it’s kind of too late to back out but I probably could if we really wanted to so it’s up to you guys.” I squeezed my eyes shut.

“What?” Nanci asked. She crunched a chip.

“We’re signed up to do the Battle of the Bands?” Patti asked. She made it sound like
You volunteered us to jump off a bridge?

Nanci and Mari looked at each other. It was a look of horror.

“Our names are on the program?” Mari asked.

“Rafe did it,” I said.

Dead silence.

I wish I could just dig a hole and live in it
, I thought.
Maybe Mom could bring me a sandwich now and then.

“COME ON, YOU GUYS!” Rhonda screeched. “THIS IS GOING TO BE AWESOME!”

“Rhonda, we’re not ready,” Mari pointed out.

“YOU
ARE
READY! YOU’RE AMAZING, AND THE DANCE WILL BE PATHETIC WITHOUT YOU!” She waved her arms in the air. “YOU OWE IT TO GEORGIA TO PERFORM! YOU CAN’T BACK OUT ON HER IN FRONT OF HER FRIENDS.”

I put up my hands. “Wait! This doesn’t really have anything to do with me—”

“YOU GUYS WILL REGRET IT FOREVER IF YOU BACK OUT NOW,” Rhonda insisted. “HOW WILL YOU PERFORM NEXT YEAR IF YOU BAIL ON THIS YEAR’S BATTLE?”

Mari turned to Patti. “Rhonda has a point.”

She does?

“SO WHAT IF YOU’RE NOT PERFECT?” Rhonda was clearly in the zone. She wasn’t about to stop screeching now. “ROCK IS NEVER PERFECT!”

“She’s right!” Nanci twirled a drumstick. “Let’s rock!”

“Yeah, let’s go for it!” Patti agreed.

Mari turned to me. “What do you think, Georgia?”

I looked over at Rhonda’s beaming face.
She really, really thinks we’re good
, I realized. It was kind of inspiring.

“Let’s do it,” I said.

Rhonda let out a shriek that might have been a cheer. I clapped my hands over my ears but smiled. Rhonda was our biggest fan, and I didn’t want to let her down.

Of course, she might just be completely insane.

But I didn’t want to let her down anyway.

I
was almost home from school when I saw him:

Rafe.

We had managed to avoid each other in the morning. Airbrook Arts starts forty-five minutes later than HVMS, so I ate a piece of pie for breakfast and snuck out early. But I couldn’t avoid him forever.

Rafe had paused midstride too. For a moment, we both stood stock-still, like mirror images. I guess we were both waiting for the other to make the first move.

I knew the same question was on both of our minds:
Who’s going to pull the next prank?

True, I had pulled the last one. And yet that prank was an epic fail for me, and a big, fat win for Rafe. So whose turn was it? Would the next victim be Rafe? Or me?

“What are you planning?” Rafe demanded.

“Nothing,” I said. “You?”

“Nothing.”

His hands were empty, so I decided to trust him.
I guess Rafe made the same decision about me, because he nodded, and we started up the walk to our house. We walked up the steps. Rafe opened the door….

Wait—is this the right house?

“Surprise!” Grandma Dotty cried. She was sitting on a hideous flowered couch. “I got my things out of storage and decided to freshen up the decor around here.”

It wasn’t that our apartment looked awful…. It was just that it looked exactly like Dotty’s old house. I looked at Rafe. Rafe looked at me.

“This is bad,” Rafe whispered.

“Wait till you see what I’ve done with the other rooms!” Dotty chuckled.

“Other rooms?” Rafe repeated, but I was already racing up the stairs. I threw open the door to my personal space.

“What’s this?” I shrieked. “Where’s my stuff?” My room now had a couch, a plant, and an empty birdcage. I yanked open the closet. Nothing. “Where’s Mr. Bananas?” My stuffed monkey had disappeared, along with my Most Outstanding Effort medal, my favorite blanket, and my
bed
.