Trouble With Liberty by Kristen Butcher Page B

before, most girls like Cody. Cody seemed to be interested in Liberty too. He didn’t ask her out or anything, but he was pretty generous with his smile. And he didn’t seem to mind us hanging around even though we’re two years younger.
    It wasn’t just Cody who warmed up to Liberty. My whole family thought she was great. If Liberty had shown up at the front door when I wasn’t there, they would have hauled her in anyway. She even came with Mom and me when we went clothes shopping
— and
she convinced my mom to let me get jeans. Liberty used exactly the same arguments I’d used, but for some reason they sounded different coming out of her mouth, and Mom bought them. In a way, that bugged me, but since I got the jeans, I didn’t complain.
    My mother is the secretary at Clarence Cobb Regional Secondary, so Cody and I usually ride to school with her. On that first morning we picked Liberty up too.
    I took one last look in the mirror before leaving the house. My jeans fit perfectly and my new white blouse really showed off my tan. My hair even looked okay for a change. It was still a mousy brown, but that morning I’d taken the time to blow it dry, and there seemed to be twice as much of it. I turned my head and watched it swish across my shoulders. Then I stuck my face so close to the mirror that my breath made little fog clouds on it. I studied every inch of my skin. Not a single zit.
    I stepped back and smiled at my reflection.
    â€œNot bad,” I told myself. “Not bad at all.”
    But once we picked Liberty up, my confidence started to evaporate. How could someone make jeans and a T-shirt look
that
good?
    Liberty slid into the backseat beside me. “You look fantastic, Val!” she smiled. “I love your hair.” But before I could return the compliment, she went on, “I’m so nervous.”
    About what?
I wanted to say.
Being too rich
? Liberty’s family had moved into the old Bartlett mansion on Kokanee Lake Road, and the place was worth a mint, so her parents obviously had money. Maybe she was worried about being too pretty. How about too tanned? Having too manydesigner clothes?
NOT!
As far as I could tell, Liberty had
everything
going for her. I wouldn’t have thought she’d been nervous a single minute in her entire life. But I have to admit there was a teeny-tiny little green part of me that was happy to hear that she was.
    Cody was driving. I glanced up to see him staring at Liberty in the rearview mirror. Talk about a lovesick cow!
    â€œ
Moooooooo!
” I let out a long mournful bellow.
    Cody didn’t even hear me. He just kept staring.
    â€œHey!” I tried again. “You behind the wheel! You think maybe you might want to watch the road for a while?”
    This time I got through, and Cody’s cheeks turned into two squashed tomatoes.
    â€œFor your information, Miss Know-It-All,” he retorted, looking away, “a driver has to be aware of what’s happening behind the vehicle as well as in front of it.”
    â€œOh, please!” I sneered. “You want me to believe you were looking out the back window?
As if!
”
    â€œValerie Gail MacQueen, that’s enough,”Mom cut short the argument. “Nobody likes a backseat driver.”
    I could see Cody laughing at me in the rear-view mirror. I was dying to give him a piece of my mind, but Mom had used every one of my names, so I knew she wasn’t kidding around. I sent Cody a
this-isn’t-over-so-don’t-think-you’vewon
glare and slouched back on the seat.
    â€œI really appreciate the ride, Mrs. Mac-Queen,” Liberty said to fill the suddenly dead air in the car. “The thought of getting on a bus full of kids I’ve never met is kind of scary.”
    Mom smiled. “You’re very welcome, Liberty. It’s perfectly natural to be a bit anxious your first day. But trust me — you’re going to be fine. By four