The Sleepover by Jen Malone Page B

one, and I don’t need any help getting enthusiastic about it. Do you think schools ever choose nonstudents to be their mascots?”
    Paige shakes her head in disbelief, but I’m happy to hear that at least her voice is pleasant when she says, “I . . . I really don’t know, Veronica.”
    â€œDo you know how to do a roundoff? All the mascots I see on TV are always doing roundoffs. I think I might need to know how to do one to get the job.”
    Paige sighs. “Yes, I know how to do a roundoff.”
    â€œCould you teach me? Pretty please? Oh, Paige, puh-leaze!”
    Paige looks at me. I know this is probably the last thing we should be doing right now, but I shrug and say, “It’s not like we have any brilliant ideas for where to look for Anna Marie. Maybe being upside down will get the blood rushing to your brain, and you’ll think of something brilliant.”
    Paige smirks, but she stands. Veronica jumps into place next to her and carefully copies every move as Paige points one foot and then raises both hands in the air. When Paige executes a perfect roundoff, I can’t help it.
    I shriek.
    Immediately I throw my hands over my mouth.
    â€œGeez, Megs! Are you trying to get Principal Wexman out here?” Paige asks.
    Veronica, meanwhile, attempts her own roundoff and lands with her butt on the grass. Paige reaches down to give Veronica a hand up, but she keeps her eyes on me as I point to her. My mouth keeps opening and closing, but nothing is coming out. Eventually I manage, “Lift your shirt.”
    â€œWhat? I’m not flashing you, Meghan Alcott!”
    â€œNo, just a little. When you cartwheeled your shirt came up and . . .”
    Paige turns and pulls her shirt up just a little. “Blood!”
    Paige tries twisting her head around to her back, but she can’t see the spot I’m gesturing to. Her voice is wobbly when she asks, “I’m bleeding?”
    I nod, but just as fast I shake my head. “No, I mean, not anymore. It’s all dried up.”
    Veronica approaches Paige, then kneels down on the ground and puts her face right next to Paige’s back. She leans in close and . . . licks Paige’s skin! Paige squeals and then jumps forward while I yell (quietly), “Veronica!”
    â€œDid you just lick me?” Paige asks, tugging her shirt back down.
    â€œJust as I thought,” Veronica says calmly. “It’s not blood.”
    â€œDid you just lick me?” Paige asks again.
    â€œWhat is it?” I ask.
    Paige spins to me. “Megs, the girl licked me!”
    â€œI know! So gross, but . . . if it’s not blood, what is it then, Veronica?”

CHAPTER TWELVE
Flutes and Batons and Tubas, Oh My!
    V eronica places her feet hip-width apart and crosses her arms over her chest, looking very self-satisfied. “It’s paint,” she states.
    â€œPaint? How do you know what paint tastes like?” Paige asks. “Never mind—I don’t want to know.” Then she bunches her shirt ends in one hand and twists again to try to glimpse whatever the heck it is on her back.
    Veronica just shrugs. “Definitely paint. Maroon paint.”
    Okay, that’s just weird.
    Where would Paige have gotten maroon paint on herself? I sit on the ground, my chin in my hands. Think, think, think. Veronica steps close to Paige again (I catch Paige flinch) and starts circling her, squinting as she moves around her in a careful circle.
    â€œWhat are you doing?” Paige asks.
    â€œI’m looking to see if you have any more of it on you. Maybe that could help us figure out where it came from.”
    Paige looks ready to blast her, but she snaps her jaw shut and mutters, “That’s actually not a bad idea.” She holds her shirt above her belly button and spins slowly.
    Veronica purses her lips together in concentration and then reaches forward to tug