hanging out with Ryan afterward.
But I never even saw him after practice. I loitered outside the boys' locker room, but he never showed. Finally, I started feeling like a football groupie, so I gave up and walked home alone.
As I left the school, a car pulled up and honked its horn. "Hey, Daisy," Jordan called from the driver's seat, "do you need a ride?"
"No thanks, Jordan," I said. "I'll just walk, it's no biggie." I wanted some time alone to mull over the case.
I still liked being alone more than the average Nightshade cheerleader, but it was nice to know I had options. The old Daisy would have had to walk home by herself. Now I had friends. The thought made me smile the entire way home.
As soon as I got in the house, I checked the machine to see if there were any calls. There weren't. Evidently, having a boyfriend was suspiciously similar to not having a boyfriend, but I refused to sit around moping.
I went into the kitchen and inspected the cupboards. I felt like cooking something special. The kitchen was completely stocked, for a change.
In the living room Rose was studying as usual, while Poppy painted her toenails and watched television.
"I thought I'd make calzones if everyone will be home tonight," I announced. "And maybe we can rent a movie."
I looked at Rose, but Poppy answered. "I was going to go out with Candy, but her grandparents are in town. A night in sounds good, especially if it includes calzones."
"Maybe I'll make a tiramisu, too," I said, peeking at Rose. Tiramisu was her favorite. The book she was reading concealed her expression, but I thought I detected a twinkle in her eyes.
"Mom will be back from Grandma's in a little while," Poppy said. Mom usually spent Saturday afternoons with Grandma Giordano. "I'm sure she'll be glad to have dinner ready when she gets home."
"Great," I said, restraining myself from pointing out to Poppy that she never made dinner for Mom or anyone else. "You and Rose can go to the video store while I cook."
"Maybe we can rent An American Werewolf in London " Rose said as she and Poppy left. It was her favorite movie, and now I knew why.
I decided to make the tiramisu while the calzone dough rose. After I soaked the ladyfingers, I whipped up fresh cream and shaved a slab of dark chocolate. I put everything together in a trifle bowl and put it in the fridge to set.
The bread dough for the calzones was ready. I checked the clock—5:00 P.M. and Mom still wasn't back from Grandma Giordano's— if that's even where she'd been. I wasn't sure about anything since Poppy revealed her suspicion that Mom was still trying to find out what had really happened to Dad.
The phone rang right when I was kneading the dough. I grabbed it with one gooey hand.
"Hello?"
"Daisy, it's Samantha." Perfect timing. And what did she want now?
"Can I call you back? I'm in the middle of something."
"Is Ryan there?" she asked. "Is that why you're busy?" She put a particular emphasis on busy. She had a dirty mind.
"I'm cooking, Sam," I said. "Ryan's not here." I wasn't going to tell her I had no idea where Ryan was. It wasn't like we were glued at the hip or anything.
"Then I'm coming over," she said.
"But..." Dial tone.
I was surprised at how fast Samantha got to my house. Right after I finished the dough, I heard a car pull up. I peeked out the window and saw Samantha's cute little BMW convertible in the driveway.
I didn't give her time to ring the doorbell. She was already standing on the stoop, carrying a bag of groceries. Her hair was in a ponytail and she wore black designer sweats with pink trim. If DEAD was stamped on her butt, I was so going to kick her out of my house. Instead, her butt read DIVINE in pink letters.
"What's so urgent?"
"Daisy, are you going to invite me in or what?" Hmm. Did she need to be invited in? Sounded vampy to me.
"You don't need an invitation," I said. I watched her closely, but she just pushed through the front door and headed for the kitchen.
I
But I never even saw him after practice. I loitered outside the boys' locker room, but he never showed. Finally, I started feeling like a football groupie, so I gave up and walked home alone.
As I left the school, a car pulled up and honked its horn. "Hey, Daisy," Jordan called from the driver's seat, "do you need a ride?"
"No thanks, Jordan," I said. "I'll just walk, it's no biggie." I wanted some time alone to mull over the case.
I still liked being alone more than the average Nightshade cheerleader, but it was nice to know I had options. The old Daisy would have had to walk home by herself. Now I had friends. The thought made me smile the entire way home.
As soon as I got in the house, I checked the machine to see if there were any calls. There weren't. Evidently, having a boyfriend was suspiciously similar to not having a boyfriend, but I refused to sit around moping.
I went into the kitchen and inspected the cupboards. I felt like cooking something special. The kitchen was completely stocked, for a change.
In the living room Rose was studying as usual, while Poppy painted her toenails and watched television.
"I thought I'd make calzones if everyone will be home tonight," I announced. "And maybe we can rent a movie."
I looked at Rose, but Poppy answered. "I was going to go out with Candy, but her grandparents are in town. A night in sounds good, especially if it includes calzones."
"Maybe I'll make a tiramisu, too," I said, peeking at Rose. Tiramisu was her favorite. The book she was reading concealed her expression, but I thought I detected a twinkle in her eyes.
"Mom will be back from Grandma's in a little while," Poppy said. Mom usually spent Saturday afternoons with Grandma Giordano. "I'm sure she'll be glad to have dinner ready when she gets home."
"Great," I said, restraining myself from pointing out to Poppy that she never made dinner for Mom or anyone else. "You and Rose can go to the video store while I cook."
"Maybe we can rent An American Werewolf in London " Rose said as she and Poppy left. It was her favorite movie, and now I knew why.
I decided to make the tiramisu while the calzone dough rose. After I soaked the ladyfingers, I whipped up fresh cream and shaved a slab of dark chocolate. I put everything together in a trifle bowl and put it in the fridge to set.
The bread dough for the calzones was ready. I checked the clock—5:00 P.M. and Mom still wasn't back from Grandma Giordano's— if that's even where she'd been. I wasn't sure about anything since Poppy revealed her suspicion that Mom was still trying to find out what had really happened to Dad.
The phone rang right when I was kneading the dough. I grabbed it with one gooey hand.
"Hello?"
"Daisy, it's Samantha." Perfect timing. And what did she want now?
"Can I call you back? I'm in the middle of something."
"Is Ryan there?" she asked. "Is that why you're busy?" She put a particular emphasis on busy. She had a dirty mind.
"I'm cooking, Sam," I said. "Ryan's not here." I wasn't going to tell her I had no idea where Ryan was. It wasn't like we were glued at the hip or anything.
"Then I'm coming over," she said.
"But..." Dial tone.
I was surprised at how fast Samantha got to my house. Right after I finished the dough, I heard a car pull up. I peeked out the window and saw Samantha's cute little BMW convertible in the driveway.
I didn't give her time to ring the doorbell. She was already standing on the stoop, carrying a bag of groceries. Her hair was in a ponytail and she wore black designer sweats with pink trim. If DEAD was stamped on her butt, I was so going to kick her out of my house. Instead, her butt read DIVINE in pink letters.
"What's so urgent?"
"Daisy, are you going to invite me in or what?" Hmm. Did she need to be invited in? Sounded vampy to me.
"You don't need an invitation," I said. I watched her closely, but she just pushed through the front door and headed for the kitchen.
I
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