this, more than I realized.”
“Happy to be here,” he said. “And if you ever need me for backup when it comes to this, all you have to do is ask.”
“Thank you for that, too,” she said, looking relieved. “Because if this whole thing blows up and I wind up having to take on Mariah Litchfield, it won’t be pretty.”
He smiled at the image. “I’ve heard she’s a little on the overly protective side,” he said, “but in this instance, I don’t think she’d stand a chance against you.”
In fact, he’d put money on it.
7
“I can’t believe Annabelle had the nerve to say something right out there in public like that,” Katie said indignantly as she and Misty sat on the back patio at Katie’s house after the incident at the fall festival. “At least Ms. Reed heard her. Now if you talk to her, she has to believe you.”
Misty stared at her with dismay. “I can’t talk to her. The whole thing is too humiliating. If Annabelle gets in trouble, everything will just get worse. They’ll go to her mom. She’ll raise a stink, and not only I, but Ms. Reed will get torn to shreds all over town.”
“Not if Annabelle’s suspended or expelled,” Katie argued.
“Like that’s ever going to happen,” Misty said. “Her mama would burn down the high school before she’d let them kick Annabelle out.”
Katie grinned. “You don’t think she’d really do that, do you?”
“Don’t you remember when Mrs. Litchfield went after the teacher back in seventh grade who gave Annabelle a D in physical education? She said her little girl was not meant to sweat, that it was unnatural, and that there must be something wrong with the teacher. By the time she finished with her, half the town thought the teacher was gay or something. She quit before the end of the year.”
Katie groaned at the memory. “I do remember. It was awful. Ms. Stevens was really nice, too. The kids tried to stick up for her, but Mrs. Litchfield got so many adults worked up, Ms. Stevens had no choice but to leave.”
“And that’s who we’re talking about,” Misty said. “If this turns into a battle between me and Annabelle, who do you think is going to wind up the loser? If there’s any mud left that Annabelle hasn’t dragged my name through, her mama will find it and try to drown me in it.”
Katie stared at her for a second, then giggled. “No wonder Ms. Reed freaks out about you skipping English. You have such a flair for drama.”
The last of the morning’s tension broke, and Misty giggled, too. “Maybe I’ve been looking at this all wrong. It’s life experience, right? Maybe one day I’ll write some mega-seller novel in which a girl who just happens to be named Annabelle gets taken away by aliens.”
But even as she smiled at the thought, she realized that by then her nemesis would probably be some superstar singer who wouldn’t care two little figs about anything Misty might write. She’d probably just laugh herself silly.
* * *
When Misty got home, she found her mother sitting at the kitchen table, a half-empty coffee cup and an untouched plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of her. Since the same meal had been there when Misty left the house hours earlier, she had to assume her mom was having another one of her down days.
“Mom,” she said, giving her shoulder a shake. “You okay?”
Her mother glanced up. “Oh, you’re home. How was the fall festival?”
At least she’d remembered where Misty had told her she was going that morning. “It was okay,” she said. “You never ate your breakfast. You must be starved. Why don’t I fix some grilled-cheese sandwiches and soup?”
“Thanks, sweetheart. I’m not that hungry.”
“Where’s Dad?”
Her mother shrugged. “He left without saying anything. Maybe he’s helping out at the festival.”
Misty bit back a sigh. Her mom was still delusional. They both knew that was unlikely. Her dad never volunteered for anything. He was either on a
“Happy to be here,” he said. “And if you ever need me for backup when it comes to this, all you have to do is ask.”
“Thank you for that, too,” she said, looking relieved. “Because if this whole thing blows up and I wind up having to take on Mariah Litchfield, it won’t be pretty.”
He smiled at the image. “I’ve heard she’s a little on the overly protective side,” he said, “but in this instance, I don’t think she’d stand a chance against you.”
In fact, he’d put money on it.
7
“I can’t believe Annabelle had the nerve to say something right out there in public like that,” Katie said indignantly as she and Misty sat on the back patio at Katie’s house after the incident at the fall festival. “At least Ms. Reed heard her. Now if you talk to her, she has to believe you.”
Misty stared at her with dismay. “I can’t talk to her. The whole thing is too humiliating. If Annabelle gets in trouble, everything will just get worse. They’ll go to her mom. She’ll raise a stink, and not only I, but Ms. Reed will get torn to shreds all over town.”
“Not if Annabelle’s suspended or expelled,” Katie argued.
“Like that’s ever going to happen,” Misty said. “Her mama would burn down the high school before she’d let them kick Annabelle out.”
Katie grinned. “You don’t think she’d really do that, do you?”
“Don’t you remember when Mrs. Litchfield went after the teacher back in seventh grade who gave Annabelle a D in physical education? She said her little girl was not meant to sweat, that it was unnatural, and that there must be something wrong with the teacher. By the time she finished with her, half the town thought the teacher was gay or something. She quit before the end of the year.”
Katie groaned at the memory. “I do remember. It was awful. Ms. Stevens was really nice, too. The kids tried to stick up for her, but Mrs. Litchfield got so many adults worked up, Ms. Stevens had no choice but to leave.”
“And that’s who we’re talking about,” Misty said. “If this turns into a battle between me and Annabelle, who do you think is going to wind up the loser? If there’s any mud left that Annabelle hasn’t dragged my name through, her mama will find it and try to drown me in it.”
Katie stared at her for a second, then giggled. “No wonder Ms. Reed freaks out about you skipping English. You have such a flair for drama.”
The last of the morning’s tension broke, and Misty giggled, too. “Maybe I’ve been looking at this all wrong. It’s life experience, right? Maybe one day I’ll write some mega-seller novel in which a girl who just happens to be named Annabelle gets taken away by aliens.”
But even as she smiled at the thought, she realized that by then her nemesis would probably be some superstar singer who wouldn’t care two little figs about anything Misty might write. She’d probably just laugh herself silly.
* * *
When Misty got home, she found her mother sitting at the kitchen table, a half-empty coffee cup and an untouched plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of her. Since the same meal had been there when Misty left the house hours earlier, she had to assume her mom was having another one of her down days.
“Mom,” she said, giving her shoulder a shake. “You okay?”
Her mother glanced up. “Oh, you’re home. How was the fall festival?”
At least she’d remembered where Misty had told her she was going that morning. “It was okay,” she said. “You never ate your breakfast. You must be starved. Why don’t I fix some grilled-cheese sandwiches and soup?”
“Thanks, sweetheart. I’m not that hungry.”
“Where’s Dad?”
Her mother shrugged. “He left without saying anything. Maybe he’s helping out at the festival.”
Misty bit back a sigh. Her mom was still delusional. They both knew that was unlikely. Her dad never volunteered for anything. He was either on a
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