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Sleepover Stakeout (9780545443111) Page 7
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Page 7
I didn’t realize I was rubbing my forehead until Darcy said, “What’s wrong, stress ball?”
I pointed at my planner and said, “I’m just feeling a little overwhelmed at the moment.”
“Is it because of the social studies project?” Darcy waved her hand. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll work on that this weekend.”
“It isn’t just one thing,” I started to explain.
Darcy’s face lit up. “You know what you need? A night of pizza, popcorn, and Crime Scene: New York. It’s a new episode tonight.” She aimed a thumb toward the giant TV in the living room.
My shoulders sagged. “I wish I could, but I don’t have time.”
Darcy pouted. “What do you have to do?”
“I’ve done so much Partners in Crime stuff lately, plus I wasted time this week on glasses-induced depression. I have a ton of reading to catch up on and I don’t want to fall behind on my homework assignments.”
Then I remembered that my parents were planning a Family Movie Night for tonight, too. Ugh! Like I had time for a movie. Not to mention, I hadn’t visited my favorite astronomy blog or done any sky-gazing with my telescope in forever. Even my most-loved hobby was suffering!
Darcy must have seen the panic in my eyes, because she put a steady hand on my shoulder and said, “Chill. I can watch the show alone.” She opened up her laptop and muttered under her breath, “That’s what I usually do anyway.”
I didn’t have time for one of Darcy’s mood swings. Fiona and I stood and grabbed our backpacks, ready to leave. But then Darcy shot a hand out. “Hold up, guys.”
“What?” I asked.
“We just got an e-mail about another case!” Darcy sounded all revved up about it.
My backpack felt heavier on my shoulders as I asked, “What does it say?”
She read aloud. “I heard around school that you guys are running this detective agency like it’s real. I need your help. Can we meet tomorrow afternoon?” Then Darcy’s eyes got even wider.
“Who’s it from?” Fiona said.
Darcy looked up at us. “Hunter Fisk.”
I wagged a finger in the air. I wasn’t going to spend any time helping that guy. “No. Ohhhhh, no.”
“I know he’s a big jerkface,” Darcy said. “But aren’t you the least bit curious about what he needs help with?”
“No, I’m not,” I said honestly. “I’m too busy with everything I have to do and our current case for Maya. He probably just wants us to do something illegal, like get him test answers or something.”
“What if he really needs help?” Darcy said.
I gave her a look. Like she cared about helping Hunter Fisk. She just wanted to know what his mystery was — if it even was that.
“I’m not meeting him,” I said. “He can solve his own problem.”
Fiona and I said good-bye to Darcy and headed out the front door. I felt a little bit guilty for saying no to Darcy, but I was seriously so stressed out. I had to catch up on all my work. And we had Maya’s sleepover to plan for. And it was Hunter … come on.
“See you later, Fiona,” I said and headed toward my house next door.
“Hey, wait a sec,” Fiona said. “I was wondering … would you let me pick out your clothes for tomorrow?”
I looked at her sideways. “What?”
“With your new glasses and all that, I’d love to style you.”
“I’m not your doll,” I joked.
“Come on. Just for one day.” She gently tugged on my ponytail. “Pleeeeease. Please, please, please, please, please.” She hopped in place as she begged.
“Okay, fine, if it will shut you up,” I said with a giggle. “Make it quick, though.”
“I know, brainiac, you have a ton to do.”
And then she followed me inside. She may have been skipping.
Fiona sighed as she flipped through the clothes hanging in my closet. “I feel like an artist who’s used to working with oils and paints but was only given a pencil to create a masterpiece.”
I threw myself onto a beanbag chair. “This was your idea, remember? Besides, I like my clothes. They’re comfortable.”
A hanger screeched as she pulled another rejected choice aside. “All I’m saying is, it wouldn’t kill you to branch out and wear something more colorful or interesting sometimes.” She held up my gray pleated skirt as an example. Then she grinned at me over her shoulder. “Trying new things is good.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I said in a mocking tone. But I wasn’t annoyed. I was actually … having fun. Which was strange. Fiona was so different from me, and together we did things that were so different from what I did with Darcy. But different didn’t mean bad.
Before I got to know Fiona, I’d always thought of her as superficial and shallow. But it’s not that she doesn’t care deeply about anything; it’s just that she cares about things that don’t interest me. And she always thought of me as just a nerd and … well, she still probably thought I was a nerd … but we had this sort of mutual respect thing going on now. I liked it.
Fiona pushed all the hangers to the left and let out a gasp. “What do we have here?” She pulled out a short skirt with a flowery print and held it up, her mouth a giant O in surprise.
“My mom bought it,” I said.
“Well, that explains why it’s so cute,” she said. “It’s fun and frilly. Love. It.” She tossed the skirt at me. “Try it on. With” — she reached back into the closet and pulled out a thin black sweater — “this thing. It’ll have to do.”
I tried on the outfit while Fiona scrambled on her hands and knees through the shoes that littered the bottom of my closet. “Hey, these boots aren’t bad,” she said, tossing them over her shoulder.
I put those on, too. And then stood, ready to be judged.
Fiona paced back and forth, tapping the end of her nose. I felt like one of those girls lined up ready to get kicked off a reality show. Finally, after the longest minute ever, she threw her hands into the air. “It’s perfect!”
My mouth dropped open. “Really?”
“The skirt is a flirty splash of color, but the black top is sophisticated like your glasses. And the boots tie everything together.” Her eyes snapped up to mine. “You’ll need to wear black tights tomorrow, though. Please tell me you have tights.”
“Yes, I have black tights,” I said with a smirk.
“Good.” She clapped her hands together. “Now for your hair.”
Fiona straightened my hair and made me pinky-swear promise that I wouldn’t wash it in the morning, and that I’d wear the outfit she’d picked out. I’ll admit everything looked great, but it was way too much effort. I didn’t know how Fiona went through all that trouble every single morning.
My mom insisted Fiona stay for dinner and Family Movie Night. Despite how much I hadn’t wanted to waste time watching a movie, the comedy my dad chose was pretty funny. After Fiona left, I was a speed-reading machine and caught up on a ton of work. I was feeling a lot less stressed when I got to school Thursday morning.
Darcy, however, was not.
She hadn’t met me at my locker like most mornings, so I poked my head into our homeroom and found she was already there. I slid into my seat in front of her. She had a book open but didn’t seem to be reading it, and she was scowling more than usual.
“How was Crime Scene: New York?” I asked, pushing my glasses up on my nose. I was still getting used to them.
Darcy shrugged. “Fine.”
Huh. Usually she went into elaborate detail, telling me every twist and turn of the episode.
She looked up at me sharply. “What did you do last night?”
“Family Movie Night. You know how that goes.” The thought occurred to me that once Fiona had decided to stay for the movie, I should have called Darcy and invited her over, too. But she probably would’ve rather watched Crime Scene: New York anyway. So it was for the best that I hadn’t.
Darcy snorted and returned to pretend-readi
ng her book.
“Is something wrong?” I asked.
“Yeah,” she mumbled. “That outfit.”
I looked down and smoothed out the skirt with my hands. I’d felt pretty good about the outfit when I put it on that morning. Granted, it wasn’t really me, but it was fun to try something new every now and then, I guess. Now, though, I felt self-conscious.
I turned away from Darcy and opened a notebook.
Fiona strolled in and immediately checked to see if I was wearing the clothes she’d picked out. Then she gave me a thumbs-up and took her seat one row over.
I hated this silent treatment thing Darcy and I were doing to each other. And I didn’t even know why it was happening. I forced a happy tone into my voice as I turned to my BFF. “So do you want to hang out after school? Do our homework together?”
Her face changed then. The mad look started to go away. But her eyes flashed, as if she remembered something.
“Yeah, sure,” she said. “I’ll meet you out at the bike rack.”
I smiled and turned back around in my seat. Everything was going to be fine. Darcy was just moody sometimes, that’s all. I accepted that like she accepted the days when I turned into a stress ball.
That’s what best friends do.
At lunch, Darcy, Fiona, and I made plans for our Saturday night sleepover, part two.
“I got a new toy to bring with us,” Darcy said, eyes alight. “I’ll show you guys when we get to Maya’s house.”
“Why does that statement scare me?” Fiona said.
I laughed. “I saw Maya in the hall earlier. She’s happy we’re coming. I think the time she’s spent with us is helping to bring her out of her shell.” I was happy about that. Maya was really nice. She just needed to put herself out there more.
Fiona waggled her eyebrows and said, “Speaking of people being shy …”
I turned to see what she was looking at. Zane was standing at the condiments table. He looked over at me, and my eyes shot back down to my plate. Why did he always catch me staring at him?
“He sure is taking his time picking out a ketchup packet,” Darcy said.
“He totally wants to talk to you,” Fiona added.
Then they both started giggling like idiots.
“Stop it,” I whispered. “You’re going to embarrass me.”
“Oh, relax and go talk to him,” Fiona said.
Easy for her to say. This boy stuff came natural to her. It was painful for me. “What would I even say?”
“Oh, I don’t know…. You could start with ‘hi,’” Fiona said sarcastically.
I gave her a look and she said, “Come on. You’re all dressed up today. It’s like fate.”
Fate? Yeah, right. My logical mind does not compute that. Plus, I’d forgotten I was wearing the “special” outfit. Now I wanted to hide under the table.
“You could tell him about the sleepover,” Darcy suggested. “Maybe he’d offer to keep an eye out for anything suspicious in the neighborhood.”
Huh. Now, that was something reasonable.
“Oh! He’s looking at us! He’s looking!” Fiona said, waving her hands. “Go, go!”
I decided to just get up and talk to him before Fiona’s head exploded.
I turned and found Zane already walking toward me. We met halfway and I positioned myself so he wasn’t facing Darcy and Fiona. I was. He didn’t need to see them staring at us the whole time, which I knew they were going to do.
“Hey,” I said, sounding desperately uncool.
“Hey, Norah.” He bit his bottom lip. “You look nice. With your glasses and those clothes and stuff … you look … older.”
I looked down at myself and back up again, blushing. “Um, thanks.”
“Though I like your regular clothes just as much,” he added.
And that might have been the best compliment I’d ever gotten.
I grinned and then he smiled and, I’m telling you, his smile was brighter than a supernova. (For you non-astronomers out there, that’s very bright.)
I shuffled my feet nervously. “So, um, I wanted to let you know that we’re doing another sleepover on your street this weekend. At Maya’s.”
“Are you still trying to figure out that weird voice?” he asked quietly.
“Yeah. We’re hoping to get to the bottom of it Saturday night.”
Darcy was making kissy-faces behind Zane’s back. I was glad she liked crime shows so much, because she was going to star in one after I murdered her.
Zane suddenly turned serious. “Be careful out there, Norah. Don’t go wandering in the woods behind the houses.”
“Why not?” I asked. Despite the obvious: Woods are creepy.
He fiddled with the ketchup packet in his hand. “I’ve heard stuff out there sometimes. At night. It could be animals, but who knows. Just … be careful, okay?”
His eyes had this earnest look to them. Like he really did care. He was … worried about me. I’d never really fully grasped the meaning of the word swoon until that moment.
I felt my cheeks reddening again as I said, “Okay, I will.”
After the last bell, I grabbed my stuff from my locker and headed out to the bike rack, where Darcy had told me to meet her. She was already there, but she wasn’t alone.
Hunter stood next to her.
He kept pushing the sleeves of his flannel shirt up his forearms, then they’d fall again, and he’d push them back up. And he shuffled from foot to foot while his eyes darted all around. Why was he acting so weird … and nervous?
“Hey,” Darcy said as I came up to them. “You’re here.”
“Yeah …” I was too polite to add And what’s he doing here? My eyes went to Hunter for an explanation and he — for the first time in his entire life — gave me a weak smile. My mind took a moment to process that, and then I figured out what was going on.
Hunter was being nice because he thought I was going to help him with something.
Darcy had replied to his e-mail.
I glared at Darcy. “I thought we’d agreed we were too busy to take on another case.”
“You said that.” Darcy crossed her arms. “I didn’t agree.”
My mouth opened and closed silently. She’d gone ahead and answered his e-mail, then agreed to meet him, and hadn’t told me. And then also didn’t happen to mention when we’d made plans to meet after school that Hunter would be with her!
Through tightly pursed lips, I hissed, “I thought we made Partners in Crime decisions together.”
Darcy cocked her head. “Funny, that’s what I’ve been wondering lately, too.”
I winced. What did that mean?
Hunter stepped in between us. “Will you guys stop fighting, please? You’re starting to sound like Slade and me lately.”
I looked up at Hunter and noticed there was a bit of hurt in his eyes. He and Slade were fighting, too? What was up with all the BFFs at Danville Middle School?
Out of curiosity, I asked, “What’s wrong with you and Slade?”
Hunter shrugged like he didn’t care, but his face betrayed him. “Slade doesn’t have much time for me anymore.”
Darcy snorted, but her face was hidden by Hunter’s huge frame, so I didn’t know if she was happy about Hunter and Slade’s problem or what.
“Just look at the note and then you can decide if you want to take on my case,” Hunter pleaded. “Please. It’ll only take one second.”
Whoa. Hunter Fisk just used the word please. I exhaled loudly. “Fine. What note?”
He reached into the back pocket of his jeans. “It showed up in my locker yesterday. It’s small enough that someone could just push it through the vent. It’s … um … threatening.”
Well, it shouldn’t be a huge surprise that Hunter had made someone mad, I thought. He probably made enemies every day. But who would have the guts to stand up to him? I held out my hand, and he slid the note onto my palm.
Only two words were on it, in large block text:
<
br /> YOU’RE NEXT.
I tried to swallow, but my throat was suddenly bone dry. I hadn’t been prepared for something so simple and … creepy. I’d been expecting something like: Leave me alone or I’ll tell Principal Plati!
This note might not have anything to do with Hunter’s favorite hobby of bullying kids. This might be something completely different. And the “next” part implied that it was something already in progress, with other victims.
“Was there anything else?” I asked.
He ran a hand through his shaggy hair. “Not really. There’s just some weird design on the other side.”
I flipped it over. The swirly design looked familiar. Very familiar. Then I realized where I’d seen it before, and my stomach dropped.
The same design had been on the note I’d found on the ground behind Maya’s house. I slid my backpack off my shoulder and started frantically searching through it.
“What’s wrong?” Darcy asked, stepping around Hunter to stand beside me. “What are you doing?”
I pulled the scrap of paper from the bottom of my bag and smoothed out the creases. Then I held it up to show Darcy and Hunter. “I found this on the ground the night we were outside Maya’s house, searching for that mysterious voice.”
Hunter’s eyes widened. “It’s the same logo.”
Darcy took it out of my hand and brought it up close to her face. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?”
I drew in a shaky breath. “I figured it didn’t mean anything. It’s just a swirly design.”
She lowered the note. “Have you looked good and hard at it since you’ve gotten your glasses?”
“No … why?” She handed it back and I took a longer look. It wasn’t just a meaningless design. It was three letters drawn in elaborate cursive and linked together with decorative swirls. I’d never noticed before.
“The letters TDB?” I said.
“That’s what it looks like to me,” Darcy said.
“What does TDB mean?” Hunter asked us.
Darcy shook her head. “I don’t know. It could be someone’s initials.”
“But whose?” Hunter demanded. “And what am I ‘next’ for?”