Middle School: My Brother Is a Big, Fat Liar (6 page)

G
randma Dotty wandered into the kitchen, singing at the top of her lungs. She was wearing a tracksuit and a pair of rainbow-striped leg warmers. “I read these are making a comeback!” Grandma crowed.

Maybe in the “let’s embarrass our grandkids as much as possible” universe
, I thought.

I put a pot on the stove and lit the flame while Grandma Dotty belted out her rendition of “Sweet Home Alabama”… which slowly turned into a rendition of “Georgia on My Mind”… and then turned into a version of “Omaha Mall” by Justin Bieber.

Grandma’s not very good with places and names. Or fashion.

Once the water started to boil, I threw in some pasta, then reached for some wilted lettuce.
Shouldn’t making dinner be a grown-up’s job?
I thought as Rafe chugged
more
orange juice, finishing off the carton. He let out a huge belch loud enough to rattle the dishes in the sink. Dotty giggled.

Oh, yeah
, I reminded myself.
I’m the only grown-up here at the moment.

I washed the sagging lettuce leaves and topped them with cherry tomatoes (which I love) and green pepper slices (which Rafe hates) to brighten them up and hide their age.

“First course!” I sang as I brought the plates into the dining room.

Rafe frowned at the salad. “Yeah, that’s pretty appetizing—if you’re a rabbit.”

“I guess I was confused by your giant ears and twitchy nose,” I shot back.

“This looks wonderful!” Dotty gushed. “So healthy.”

Rafe picked the peppers out of his salad and
placed them on the side of his plate. He nibbled a leaf, then asked, “Where’s the real food?” Like I was his servant or something.

“Next course, coming right up,” I said as cheerfully as I could through gritted teeth.

Back in the kitchen, I strained the pasta and ladled on some sauce.

“Hey, Georgia, that actually doesn’t look horrible,” Rafe said when I placed the plate in front of him.

I smiled sweetly. “Be sure to eat it while it’s nice and hot.”

Rafe took a huge, greedy bite and hit the roof. Literally.

“Hot enough for you?” I asked, but Rafe didn’t answer. He was too busy fanning the flames burning his lips. Hmm. I guess he didn’t enjoy the entire bottle of hot sauce I emptied onto his pasta.

Good thing I didn’t put any on Grandma’s or mine.

Grandma took another bite. “This is delish, Carolina.”

Rafe sputtered and howled. He couldn’t really speak, but I knew what he was trying to say—and it involved revenge.
I’d better escape while he’s busy dousing his tongue with a glass of water
, I decided. I left my dishes in the sink and headed to the one place where I knew Rafe wouldn’t dare bother me.

My safe place.

W
hen I got to my safe place, I discovered it had been invaded by a carnivorous (but nicely dressed) beast.

You guessed it: Missy. Sitting there in a corner booth of Swifty’s Diner with her snooty-looking family. They were daintily eating apple pie.

I skulked over to the counter and slipped onto one of the red stools, holding my copy of
The Book Thief
in front of my face.
Please don’t notice me
, I begged silently.

“Your mom’ll be right over, Georgia honey!” Pearl hooted. Pearl is the other waitress, and she always does everything at top volume.

Cringing, I glanced at Missy. She was looking right at me with narrowed eyes and a tight little smile. I turned my back on her as the pasta in my stomach threatened to revolt.
Great
.
If Missy comes over, maybe I can barf on her.

“Hi, sweetie,” Mom said as she leaned across the counter and landed a kiss on my forehead.

I felt like I’d just reached a desert oasis.
Mom will know how to handle Missy
, I realized. “I need to ask you—”

“I want to hear all about it. I’ll be back in a sec.” She hauled a huge tray piled with dinner plates to a table by the window. It was seven o’clock, and the diner was packed.

The diner burned to the ground last year, but Swifty had rebuilt it with the help of a big insurance check, and it’s way nicer now than it ever was before. And more crowded.

Swifty shouted, “Order up!” and Mom hustled over to the grill to pick up the dinners. She held up her index finger, giving me the “One minute!” signal.

Argh—I didn’t have “one minute”! My problems had followed me all the way to my safe place and were threatening to
attack
.

I cast a nervous glance toward Missy’s corner. Her family was getting up to leave.
Please, please, please just go
, I thought.

I hid behind my book. The librarian had tried to tell me that it would be too hard for me. She must’ve had me confused with Rafe. (Note to reader: Rafe has never read
The Book
Thief
or any other book except the CliffsNotes for the Captain Underpants series. Okay, I’m exaggerating. He also sometimes reads the menu at McDonald’s.)

A moment later, Mom brought me a glass of chocolate milk. Chocolate removed.

“How was your first day of middle school?” she asked gently, crossing her arms on the counter. Finally—some time for just Mom and me.

“Oh, it was—” I looked toward the table in the corner. Missy was gone.
Good
, I thought.
Now I can really tell Mom all about it.
“It was okay, but—”

“Excuse me?” A bald man held up his coffee cup. “Refill?”

“Sure.” Mom scurried away to grab the carafe. The minute she refilled his cup, someone else was ready to order. Then another table’s food was ready, people were leaving, someone dropped a spoon…. Mom got caught in the chaos, and I couldn’t reach her.

I wished she could just take a night off and hang out watching movies on the couch with Rafe and me. But she works too much. Even when she’s around, it’s hard to get her attention—because Rafe hogs it all.

I really wanted to talk to Mom about Missy… but it looked like this wasn’t my lucky night. I’d just have to figure out what to do about the Princesses on my own.

I would have to fight fire with fire.

W
hen I came downstairs the next morning, Rafe took one look at me and nearly blew a chunk of Cap’n Crunch out his nose. He had to take a sip of juice to keep from choking on his own laughter.

“Be quiet,” I told him as I slid into the chair across from his.

“You look very pretty, Virginia,” Grandma Dotty said.

“Thank you.”

“Something special happening at school today, honey?” Mom asked as she placed an empty bowl in front of me.

“She’s trying to fit in,” Rafe announced.