Samantha and at me. "What wasn't funny?"
"Getting Samantha to take Vicki's report."
"I didn't get her to do anything. She did it herself. Didn't you, Samantha?" Gisselle's fixed gaze was enough. Samantha nodded.
"Give it back to her this minute," I said. Samantha reached under the sofa to pull out the report. There was a look of shock on her face. She knelt down and searched.
"It's not there," she said, surprised. "But that's where I put it."
"Gisselle."
"I don't know anything about it," she said smugly.
Suddenly we heard a scream from Vicki and Samantha's room. All of us rushed in to discover Vicki sitting on the bed, bawling. In her lap was her report, soaked.
"What happened?"
"I found it like this under the dresser," she cried. "Now I'm going to have to copy it all over." She looked at Samantha hatefully.
"I didn't do that," Samantha said. "Honest."
"Someone did."
"Maybe you did it yourself and you're trying to blame it on one of us," Gisselle accused.
"What? Why - would I do that?"
"Just to get someone in trouble."
"That's ridiculous. Especially when you consider that I'm going to have to copy it over!"
"Then you'd better start before too much of the ink runs," Gisselle suggested. She turned her chair and the girls followed her out.
"Abby and I will help you, Vicki," I said.
"Thanks, butI'll do it myself." She wiped her cheeks.
"Sometimes, when you rewrite, you make corrections anyway," Abby said.
Vicki nodded. Then she fixed her eyes on me coldly. "We never had things like this happen before," she said.
"I'm sorry," I said. "I'll speak to Gisselle."
Later that night we had an argument about it. Gisselle insisted that she hadn't dipped the report in the toilet and even pretended to be hurt that I would accuse her of such a thing, but I didn't believe her.
The next day Gisselle surprised me with a suggestion.
"Maybe we shouldn't room together," she said. "We don't really get along all that well, and we can't really get to know other people if we see only each other most of the time."
"We don't see each other. I've hardly seen you all week," I said. "But that's not my fault."
"I didn't say it was. I just think it might be better if you roomed with Abby, who you've become close with, and I room with someone else."
"Who?"
"Samantha," she said.
"You mean Vicki doesn't want to room with her since the practical joke, don't you?"
"No. Samantha can't stand rooming with Vicki, who is so involved in her schoolwork, she doesn't even pay attention to personal hygiene."
"Now what are you saying?"
"Samantha said Vicki got her period two days ago but hasn't taken the time to get herself any sanitary napkins. She stuffs her panties with toilet paper," Gisselle replied and grimaced.
"I don't believe it."
"Well, why should I lie? Go ask her yourself. Go in there and ask her what she has in her panties. Go on!" she shrieked.
"Gisselle. All right, relax. I believe you."
"Just don't blame all this on Samantha," she said. "Well?"
"What?"
"Do you want to move in with Abby and let Samantha move in here or not?"
"But what about your special needs?"
"Samantha is willing to do everything I require her to do," Gisselle said.
"I don't know. Daddy might not like this."
"Of course he will like it. If it makes me happy," she added, smiling.
"I don't know how Abby would feel about it," I said softly, secretly loving the idea.
"Of course she'll love it. You two have become like. . . sisters," Gisselle said, her eyes fixed on me sharply. Was that jealousy and envy in her eyes or just plain hate?
"I'll talk to Abby," I said. "I suppose I could always move back if it doesn't work out. But what about all your other things, the things you insisted on bringing here? There might not be room enough for my things in Abby's room now."
"I'll have Mrs. Penny put some of it in storage just as she originally suggested," Gisselle replied quickly. Obviously, she would overcome any obstacle to get what she wanted. "Besides, you don't have that much anyway."
"I know why you
"Getting Samantha to take Vicki's report."
"I didn't get her to do anything. She did it herself. Didn't you, Samantha?" Gisselle's fixed gaze was enough. Samantha nodded.
"Give it back to her this minute," I said. Samantha reached under the sofa to pull out the report. There was a look of shock on her face. She knelt down and searched.
"It's not there," she said, surprised. "But that's where I put it."
"Gisselle."
"I don't know anything about it," she said smugly.
Suddenly we heard a scream from Vicki and Samantha's room. All of us rushed in to discover Vicki sitting on the bed, bawling. In her lap was her report, soaked.
"What happened?"
"I found it like this under the dresser," she cried. "Now I'm going to have to copy it all over." She looked at Samantha hatefully.
"I didn't do that," Samantha said. "Honest."
"Someone did."
"Maybe you did it yourself and you're trying to blame it on one of us," Gisselle accused.
"What? Why - would I do that?"
"Just to get someone in trouble."
"That's ridiculous. Especially when you consider that I'm going to have to copy it over!"
"Then you'd better start before too much of the ink runs," Gisselle suggested. She turned her chair and the girls followed her out.
"Abby and I will help you, Vicki," I said.
"Thanks, butI'll do it myself." She wiped her cheeks.
"Sometimes, when you rewrite, you make corrections anyway," Abby said.
Vicki nodded. Then she fixed her eyes on me coldly. "We never had things like this happen before," she said.
"I'm sorry," I said. "I'll speak to Gisselle."
Later that night we had an argument about it. Gisselle insisted that she hadn't dipped the report in the toilet and even pretended to be hurt that I would accuse her of such a thing, but I didn't believe her.
The next day Gisselle surprised me with a suggestion.
"Maybe we shouldn't room together," she said. "We don't really get along all that well, and we can't really get to know other people if we see only each other most of the time."
"We don't see each other. I've hardly seen you all week," I said. "But that's not my fault."
"I didn't say it was. I just think it might be better if you roomed with Abby, who you've become close with, and I room with someone else."
"Who?"
"Samantha," she said.
"You mean Vicki doesn't want to room with her since the practical joke, don't you?"
"No. Samantha can't stand rooming with Vicki, who is so involved in her schoolwork, she doesn't even pay attention to personal hygiene."
"Now what are you saying?"
"Samantha said Vicki got her period two days ago but hasn't taken the time to get herself any sanitary napkins. She stuffs her panties with toilet paper," Gisselle replied and grimaced.
"I don't believe it."
"Well, why should I lie? Go ask her yourself. Go in there and ask her what she has in her panties. Go on!" she shrieked.
"Gisselle. All right, relax. I believe you."
"Just don't blame all this on Samantha," she said. "Well?"
"What?"
"Do you want to move in with Abby and let Samantha move in here or not?"
"But what about your special needs?"
"Samantha is willing to do everything I require her to do," Gisselle said.
"I don't know. Daddy might not like this."
"Of course he will like it. If it makes me happy," she added, smiling.
"I don't know how Abby would feel about it," I said softly, secretly loving the idea.
"Of course she'll love it. You two have become like. . . sisters," Gisselle said, her eyes fixed on me sharply. Was that jealousy and envy in her eyes or just plain hate?
"I'll talk to Abby," I said. "I suppose I could always move back if it doesn't work out. But what about all your other things, the things you insisted on bringing here? There might not be room enough for my things in Abby's room now."
"I'll have Mrs. Penny put some of it in storage just as she originally suggested," Gisselle replied quickly. Obviously, she would overcome any obstacle to get what she wanted. "Besides, you don't have that much anyway."
"I know why you
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