Sleepover Stakeout (9780545443111) Page 6

  I turned around to face the mall traffic. Lots of people walking by had glasses. Yesterday, I wouldn’t have even noticed. Maybe it wasn’t as big a deal as I was making it out to be.

  A howl of pain followed by mocking laughter made me look to the right. And there, headed my way, were Slade Durkin and his two older brothers. They were punching and climbing on one another like animals as they walked.

  My stomach seized. I didn’t want to deal with King of the Bullies right now.

  I glanced inside the store. Mom was still at the register, chattering away with the saleslady. I thought about heading back inside, but another yelp of pain made me look again at the Durkins.

  One of his older brothers had Slade’s arm twisted behind his back. The other brother laughed and drilled the most violent noogie I’d ever seen into Slade’s scalp. People walking by glanced at them but did nothing.

  As Slade struggled to get out of his brothers’ grip, embarrassment bloomed on his face. And for a moment he wasn’t this mean, evil boy who taunted kids in school and had caused me so many problems. He was one of us. Just a kid himself, being tortured by bigger, meaner kids. Even if they were only his brothers.

  I pushed myself off the wall and stepped toward them. I had no plan, no clue what I was going to say. I just wanted them to leave Slade alone.

  As I got closer, Slade noticed me, and our eyes connected. At first, his cheeks turned red, his shame even deeper now that someone from school had seen him getting bullied. He looked from me to his brothers and back again. Then the panic slid from his face.

  Confidence rose up inside of me. I was making him feel better already! I was going to be a hero!

  “Hey, Norah!” Slade called out. His brothers loosened their grip to look at me. “You were already ugly enough. You didn’t need to go and get glasses!”

  I flinched and stopped mid-stride. It felt like someone had punched me in the gut. How did bullies always know how to pick the words that would hurt the most?

  Slade’s brothers threw their heads back in laughter. They released Slade, who then straightened and laughed along with them. As they walked by, he said, “Seriously, Norah. If you were a dinosaur, you’d be a Nerdosaurus rex.”

  His brothers laughed even harder, snorting and punching each other in the arms. One of them said to Slade proudly, “You’re a Danville boy, all right.”

  What did that mean? They all lived in this town, so weren’t they automatically Danville boys? But I didn’t even care. Tears stung my eyes, and I willed them not to fall down my cheeks.

  I didn’t know what I was more upset about, that Slade had said I looked ugly … or that I’d temporarily mistaken him for a human being.

  The next morning, I felt so depressed I even thought about faking an illness. Though Darcy had done this plenty of times (and attempted to school me in all acts of parental trickery), I had never lied about being sick to my parents. And, despite how much I wanted to hide in my bedroom all day, I wasn’t going to start now.

  We had a Spanish test, and Mr. Graham’s makeup tests are always harder than the real thing. (Probably to discourage the whole faking-sick-on-test-days thing.) I didn’t need that stress. On top of that, I was so busy lately with Partners in Crime along with my regular school stuff. Seventh grade seemed like it had double the amount of homework that sixth had. So I sucked it up and went to school.

  Strangely, though getting glasses was a big deal to me, most people didn’t seem to notice. I got no crazy looks in the hallway, and no one made any mean, Slade-like remarks. Even though I felt as if my whole face had changed, to everyone else I was still regular Norah Burridge.

  Between the Spanish test and a pop quiz in English, it was a busy morning, and I barely had time to talk to anyone, not even Darcy. She only had a chance to tell me “Cool specs” as we rushed between classes.

  I finally got a moment to rest at lunch. When I walked over to our usual spot, I saw Fiona was sitting at the popular table. We’d get her back tomorrow as part of our Share Plan.

  I dropped my lunch bag on the table and eyeballed Darcy. She was eating a pudding cup and had two more lined up.

  “Three puddings?” I said. “That’s your lunch?”

  “I can’t chew,” she answered through a mouthful of liquid chocolate. “It’s too sore.”

  Oh. Bad friend alert. In all my worrying about my own problems, I’d forgotten that Darcy got braces yesterday. And I hadn’t even noticed them in any classes or in the halls this morning! I tried for a cheery tone. “Well, Zane says the soreness only lasts a day or two.”

  Then I remembered how all the things my mom had said to try to make me feel better about glasses hadn’t worked at all and realized the only thing I could do was be Darcy’s friend. I sat beside her and made little circles on her back with my hand. “I’m sorry about the braces,” I said gently.

  “Sorry?” She wiped the chocolate off her mouth with a napkin. “Don’t be sorry. They’re awesome!”

  Shocked, I stuttered, “Uh — what?”

  “The pain stinks, but like you said, that’s only for a day or so. Check them out!” She smiled huge, and I really saw the braces for the first time.

  They were purple.

  My eyes widened. “Purple braces? I didn’t know those existed.”

  “Me neither,” Darcy said excitedly. “I thought I’d be stuck with those same metal ones like everyone else. But my mom told me I could get colored ones. This changes everything. These things rock!”

  Darcy wore either black or purple every day, and the braces totally matched her tough-chick style. They actually did look kind of cool on her!

  I wished I felt the same about the new addition to my face.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, realizing I wasn’t as happy as she was.

  I filled her in on the Durkin brothers’ appearance at the mall and what Slade had said about me looking ugly.

  Darcy rolled her eyes. “Slade’s such a jerk. He just wanted to impress his older brothers, and you impress a Durkin by being mean. You happened to be in the wrong spot at the wrong time. You are not ugly and your glasses look great. I swear.”

  She held out her fist like a solemn oath. I half-heartedly bumped it. “Thanks,” I muttered, but I knew she was just trying to make me feel better. She’s my best friend. That’s her job.

  Darcy knows me well, so she changed the subject. “Tell me all the details about yesterday’s investigation,” she prodded.

  As we wolfed down our lunches, I filled her in on everything, from the lack of leads to the fact that the Old Witch was totally harmless, even sweet.

  Darcy settled back into her seat and furrowed her brow. “Really.”

  I raised my hands. “So we’re out of options. I have no idea what to do next.”

  The bell rang, and we got to our feet.

  “Partners in Crime meeting at my house after school,” Darcy said, picking up her tray. She leaned toward me and whispered, “I have a theory.”

  That afternoon, I waited for Darcy at my locker. I held my books in my arms and leaned up against the cool metal, watching kids get ready to leave for the day.

  Down the hall, Zane and Maya were walking side by side. They’d have to pass me to get to the exit. I didn’t want to stare, so I pretended to gaze straight in front of me, but really my eyes looked left, trying to sneak peeks at them. As they got closer, I realized they were talking in low voices. I strained to hear. Were they talking about whatever Zane’s secret was? Dang it, why couldn’t I be Spider-Man right now? (Not for shooting webs out of my wrists — that’s gross — but for his superhearing.)

  Maya seemed to be trying to convince Zane of something. She was pleading with her hands while he had a sheepish, unsure expression on his face. And then he noticed me.

  Yep, Zane caught me staring. He stopped walking and his eyes widened. Maya whispered something to him, and he shook his head quickly and started walking faster in my direction.

  I straightened
up, and every nag my mother ever said ran through my head. Don’t slouch! Pull your shoulders back. I flattened myself against the locker, and the dial poked me in the back. I winced and lowered my face. Keep your head up, Mom’s voice said. My thumb nervously went to my mouth. Don’t bite your nails!

  I almost yelled “Fine!” out loud, but thankfully I wasn’t completely insane in that moment. Only mildly crazy.

  I thought Zane was going to continue to power walk by, but as he got to where I was standing, he slowed. He looked up — right at me — and his face was a little flushed. He gave a shy smile and said, “I like your new glasses, Norah. They look really good.”

  “Thank you,” I managed to say. He smiled again, bigger this time, and continued on his way. Maya gave me a little wave as she passed.

  I let out the huge breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding in. I would’ve taken his words as a compliment, but Zane was probably just being nice. He was easily the kindest boy in Danville Middle School.

  Still, my heart was beating like I was on mile twenty-six of a marathon.

  My teeny, tiny, atom-size crush on Zane (okay, fine, Milky Way galaxy–size crush) kept me from noticing Fiona until she stood right in front of me.

  Fiona gaped. “Oh. My. Fashion. Goddess.”

  I whipped around to see who was standing behind me. No one. Just the locker. Then I slowly turned back. “Are you making fun of me?” I was more confused than hurt. I’d thought we were past that.

  She took another step and examined me closely. I felt like a bug under a microscope.

  “I can’t believe it,” she said. “Why didn’t I think of this? It’s genius. It’s what I was searching for all along!”

  I asked, “Are you, like, sleepwalking or something? Because you’re making no sense.”

  “The glasses, you doofus! They’re perfect!”

  I tilted my head like my dog, Hubble, does when I babble to him and he has no clue what I’m saying. (Yes, I talk to my dog. It’s useful sometimes since he doesn’t talk back.)

  Fiona, finally realizing my cluelessness, waved her hands excitedly. “You know how I kept saying that your look was missing something but I couldn’t put my finger on what it was?”

  “It was … glasses?”

  “Yes! You look so … sophisticated.”

  Now it was my turn to be shocked. I repeated, “Sophisticated?”

  “Absolutely. You look older and more confident. Maybe because you’re not all squinty and unsure-looking. And this pair you picked out …” She paused. “Wait, there’s no way you picked these. Who helped you?” She put her hands on her hips like she was insulted I’d asked someone else’s fashion advice instead of hers.

  “No one. I picked them myself.” I didn’t want to tell her that I’d practically chosen them at random because I was ready to have a tantrum in the store. Let her think I’d actually made a wise fashion choice on my own for once.

  Fiona shook her head in amazement. “Wonderful pick for your face’s shape and your hair color.” She reached up and loosened my ponytail a little. “And they’re versatile with many looks. You’re just adorable, Norah Burridge!”

  “Wow,” I said, feeling truly stunned by all these compliments. “Thanks.”

  Everyone who’d mentioned my new glasses had told me they looked great (except Slade) — but I hadn’t believed them. I’d thought they were all just being nice. Fiona, however, doesn’t do “nice” when it comes to fashion. She only knows honesty. So, if she thought the glasses were perfect for me … I believed her. I could already feel myself standing taller, feeling more confident.

  “Hey,” Darcy said, giving me a little hip check as she got to us. “Ready to go?”

  “My glasses look great,” I told her, my voice giving away my surprise.

  “Duh,” Darcy said. “I told you that this morning. And at lunch.” Then she looked at Fiona, back at me, and said, “But you didn’t believe it until Teen Vogue over here said it.”

  Whoops. A little nugget of guilt sat in the pit of my stomach. “Sorry?” I said with a sheepish smile. “She does know a lot about style, though.”

  “And I also know about time,” Fiona butted in. “If we’re going to have a Partners in Crime meeting, we should get going.”

  “You’re coming?” Darcy said. Her jaw tightened. Something most people wouldn’t notice, but it didn’t slip past me.

  “Yeah,” Fiona said. “Norah invited me along. I’m glad cheering got canceled today. I’m looking forward to chilling with you guys.”

  “Me … too,” Darcy said with a small smile.

  But the smile didn’t reach her eyes.

  I didn’t know what Darcy’s problem was. Maybe I’d hurt her feelings over the whole glasses thing. But, obviously, Fiona’s opinion would matter more than Darcy’s when it came to style. Just like if I wanted to buy a new laptop, I’d ask what Darcy thought, not Fiona. And if someone needed to know how many moons Jupiter has, they’d ask me. (At least sixty-five, though we’ll probably discover more in time.) The point is, we know about different things.

  But I wasn’t about to bring it up again, especially now that we were at Darcy’s house and she was acting normal again.

  Well, normal for her.

  “My mom and I baked cupcakes last night,” she said, taking the lid off a container.

  Fiona and I, seated at the kitchen table, leaned over to look inside. They were chocolate cupcakes with orange icing, plus a layer of black icing threaded across to look like spiderwebs. I smiled. They were so Darcy.

  Fiona sat back in her chair. “Is it Halloween and I just don’t know it?”

  I reached in and pulled out two cupcakes, handing one to Fiona. “Just eat it and thank me after. Darcy and her mom make great cupcakes.”

  Her hostess duties done, Darcy sat down and opened up the black notebook.

  “What do we have to add to the case file?” Fiona asked, licking a dot of frosting off her top lip.

  “Well,” I said. “We can cross off accidental interference. No one else has a baby monitor.”

  “Not necessarily.” Darcy lifted her pencil into the air. “No one has a baby.”

  I carefully peeled the liner off my cupcake. “What’s the difference?”

  “The baby monitor is pretty cheap, right? Sixteen bucks? Someone could have bought one knowing Maya would hear the voices. Just to scare her.”

  I took a big bite and let Darcy’s words settle in. So that was her theory. It figured she’d go the conspiracy route, but she had a point. You didn’t have to have a baby to buy a monitor. And the voices had come through only on Saturday nights, when Maya was babysitting her brother and therefore would be listening. And the voice or voices were certainly creepy. It wasn’t just someone talking about nothing important, which is what accidental interference would probably sound like.

  I nodded slowly. “It’s a definite possibility. But who would do that?”

  “I think we have two strong contenders.” Darcy stabbed her finger at the notebook in two places. “Anya and Hunter.”

  “Hunter, no doubt,” I agreed. “He loves messing with people. And he’s teased Maya before on walks home from school.”

  Fiona dabbed at her mouth with a napkin. “But this is a lot more involved than his usual pranks. And I doubt he’d spend his own money on a monitor just to mess with the girl next door.”

  Darcy tapped the end of her pencil on the table. “Then there’s always Anya: Worst Sister Ever. I wouldn’t put it past her.”

  “But Maya insisted Anya was out when she first heard the voices,” I said.

  “She could’ve just told her she was going out,” Fiona said. “Maybe she took the second monitor into the woods, and she and her friends did the spooky voice into it.”

  “The woods are in range,” Darcy pointed out.

  I scooped the cupcake crumbs into a napkin and balled it up into my hand. Anya would know when Maya was home babysitting. When she’d be sitting there watc
hing TV, listening to the monitor. And, from the way I saw her treat Maya, I knew Anya had a mean streak. She was the complete opposite of shy, sweet-natured Maya.

  I felt a flash of anger. If someone was doing this on purpose to scare Maya, I wanted to put a stop to it. She didn’t deserve to be treated that way.

  “But how do we find the evidence?” I said, thinking out loud. “How could we prove it?”

  Darcy got a glimmer in her eye. “We catch her in the act.”

  “Another sleepover?” I said.

  Darcy nodded eagerly. “And this time … we’ll be prepared.”

  Fiona clapped her hands and bounced in her seat. “Yay! A sleepover! And this time … I can come!”

  While Darcy stepped out of the kitchen to call Maya and ask if she wanted to do another sleepover stakeout, I opened my daily calendar in the back of my binder. I tried to figure out a game plan for the rest of my week. But the more I looked at everything I had going on, the more stressed I got.

  Mr. Mahoney had assigned us a brand-new science project, right when I wanted to start focusing on my social studies project. Plus, Mrs. Haymon, my math teacher, talked to me after class about some state math competition she wanted me to enter. And this was all on top of my regular homework!

  I had so much to do, my head was spinning. Fiona was sitting there happily texting away on her phone. I don’t know how she kept it together. Chatting with all her friends, cheering, taking the time to make sure her hair and clothes were perfect every day, plus school stuff. Well, she didn’t exactly ace the school stuff, but you know. I’m sure she put in some effort.

  I looked back at my to-do list and tried to prioritize. Then I put my face in my hands and groaned.

  “It’s on like no spelled backward!” Darcy cheered, returning to the kitchen, cell phone in hand.

  “The sleepover?” Fiona said.

  “Yep!” Darcy slid into the seat next to me. “Saturday night at Maya’s. We’re going to catch Anya … or whoever … in the act.”