A Snitch in the Snob Squad (8 page)

Guess where we ended up? At the latest dorky Disney. The minute we walked in my ears were assaulted by a bejillion screaming
kids in the theater. I think their parents dropped them off for the weekend. All the way down the aisle, when my sandals weren’t
sticking to the tacky carpet, popcorn crunched under my soles. I’d never dig it all out. The only four seats together were
on the left side, way in back. It wasn’t until I sat down that I discovered my cushion was all wet. I didn’t even
want
to think why.

Ever notice how all Disney movies are the same? A beautiful babe and a gorgeous hunk start out hating each other’s guts. She
saves his life, or vice versa, they fall in love, someone dies then comes back from the dead, and everyone lives sappily ever
after. Just like real life—on some other planet.

After the movie Vanessa and I immediately veered out toward the parking lot. Dad called, “What’s the rush? Let’s mosey on
down to the ice cream parlor.”

No kidding. He said, “Mosey on down.” He said, “Ice cream parlor.”

I muttered to Vanessa, “And this is your brain on Disney.”

“What’s left of it,” she muttered back.

“Good idea, Robert,” Mom said, looping an arm through Dad’s. “It’ll give us all a chance to talk.”

Vanessa and I rolled our eyes, but we trailed them down the mall. I mean, what could we do? Except try to lose them in the
crowd, which was impossible since Mom kept glancing over her shoulder giving us the evil eye.

Near the Nut Shoppe, Vanessa whispered, “This is so bogus. Who goes to a mall on Saturday with their parents?”

“Really,” I agreed. “If we see anyone we know, let’s start yelling and screaming like we’re being kidnapped.”

What we did was drop back as far as possible. When we were out of earshot of Mom and Dad, Vanessa said, “So tell me about
Kevin.”

My face flared. “What do you want to know?”

“Where did you meet him? What’s he like? Does he have a brother?”

I said, “At school. He’s way cool. And I don’t know.”

Van shook her head. “I can’t believe it. My baby sister has a boyfriend before I do.”

“I’m not a baby,” I replied. “Unless you’re talking baby elephant.”

“You just turned twelve. I bet you don’t even have all your permanent teeth yet.”

I sneered. “I’m going on thirteen. I have permanent teeth
and
PMS, for your information.”

She stared off down the mall and sighed. “Who’d want a sicko like me, anyway?”

I stopped and grabbed her bony arm. “Don’t say that, Van. You’re not a sicko.”

She just looked at me.

“I mean it. You’re lots better. When was the last time you cut your Cheerios in half?”

A smile tugged the corner of her lip.

“See?” I said. “And you hardly ever get lost in mirrors. Or change your clothes a hundred times a day—wait, that’s normal.
Oh, I know. You hardly ever take more than two or three hours in the bathroom to count the hairs in the brush. Just that one
time I had to go so bad that I ran out to use the tree in the Crotchedys’ backyard.”

“You didn’t—” She shoved me. I shoved her back.

“Hurry up, you two,” Dad called through cupped hands. “You’re losing us.”

“He noticed,” Van murmured.

We resumed our funeral procession toward the ice cream parlor. Out of the blue Vanessa said, “Dr. Sid wants me to open up
more; express my feelings. So here goes. I’m glad you’re my sister.”

I looked over at her, shocked. “Ditto,” I managed to say.

She added, “And believe it or not, as weird as they are, I’m glad they’re our parents.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t want to wish them on anyone else. Well, maybe Ashley Krupps.” Speaking of
witch
… the pink Nikes caught my eye first. Then the too-tight jean skirt, the velour top, and the purse. The purse that was strapped
to Ashley’s chest like an oxygen tank.

“Quick, hide me.” I spun Vanessa around and ducked behind her. As if a walking stick could hide a tree trunk. Using Vanessa
as a shield, I watched Ashley and Melanie approach.

Vanessa slowed. “Keep walking,” I whispered, twisting her around in a half circle.

“It’s kinda hard when you’re pulling me backward,” she said. But she got my drift and wove in and out of traffic.

Finally they were past us and I loosened my death grip on Vanessa’s arms. Geez, it left welts. “Sorry,” I mumbled. Peeking
over Vanessa’s shoulder, I watched as Ashley wiggled her rear and gestured dramatically to Melanie.

Vanessa said, “Who are they?”

“Just some snobs from school—” Snobs! I had to call the Squad. This was our chance to catch Ashley in the act. No doubt she
was here to spend Mrs. Jonas’s money. Then I remembered: Ashley had been hanging around near the PC lab that day, too. She
could’ve taken Ms. Milner’s money. And if I had to choose between Ashley and Max as far as criminal tendencies, Ashley got
my vote.

“Come on.” I grabbed Vanessa’s wrist and yanked. “We need to find a phone.”

V
anessa suggested an alternate plan. She said she’d stall Mom and Dad at I Scream Ice Cream while I went in search of a phone.
Luckily, I had some change on me. Luckily, I remembered Lydia’s number. Unluckily, no one answered. “Come on, Lyd,” I pleaded
to the coin slot. Three, four, five rings.

“Hello?”

“Yes! You’re there,” I said.

“Where else would I be?” Lydia grumbled. “Mom won’t let me go to Max’s this afternoon.”

“Why not?”

Lydia sighed wearily. “She heard about the thefts at school. She called Mr. Krupps and I guess Max’s name came up.” She clucked.
“He told her Max was seen at school the day Ms. Milner got robbed.”

Who would’ve told?… Ashley, I seethed silently. She must’ve spotted Max. The snitch.

Lydia went on, “I guess Mr. Krupps sent the cops to Max’s house, but she got away before they could handcuff her and read
her her rights.”

Lydia was prone to exaggeration, but it made me shudder to think it might be the truth. My resolve to get Ashley Krupps registered
off the Richter scale.

Lydia said, “Now my mom doesn’t want me hanging around with Max anymore.”

“But Max didn’t
do
it.” At least, I didn’t think so. I hoped not. I wanted to believe so bad.…

“I know she didn’t do it,” Lydia replied. “But try telling my mother that.”

No way. You don’t disagree with a child psychologist. She has the power to pack you off to the funny farm, wherever that is.
I didn’t think it’d be funny. “Look, I’m here at Creekside Mall and I just saw Ashley and Melanie. This is our chance. If
we can catch them spending the stolen money, we’ll have proof Ashley did it and Max didn’t.”

“Yeah, perfect,” Lydia said. “But…”

I waited. “But what?”

Lydia sighed again. “How can we prove the money they’re spending is the stolen money?”

Good point, I thought. Too bad Prairie wasn’t here. She’d know the answer, since she’s the brainpower of the Snob Squad.

“Well,” I thought aloud, “we could at least see how much they’re spending. I bet it’ll be almost exactly what was stolen.
Then we report it and let Krupps take it from there.” Oh, the gossip. The humiliation. The lifelong grounding. What a delicious
thought.

“Not bad,” Lydia said. “But what do I tell my mom?”

Geez, did I have to do all the thinking? “Tell her whatever you have to. Then call Prairie. Tell her to get hold of Max and
meet us—” I glanced around, “in front of the Sears in half an hour.” I didn’t figure we’d run into Ashley anywhere near Sears.
“Be here by four o’clock. Same time we would’ve met at the Peacemobile.”

“This is a waste of time,” Lydia muttered.

“It’s our best opportunity to prove Max’s innocence.” Prove it to myself, I didn’t say. “Don’t you want to get her off?”

Lydia clucked. “Of course I do. I just meant… my mom…” She exhaled. “I’ll see what I can do.”

A few minutes later I sauntered casually into I Scream Ice Cream, squeezing through the narrow aisles between tables, and
elbowing some old lady’s head. Mom and Dad glared. Mom especially. “Where’ve you been?” she said. “We’ve been here for ten
minutes. There’s a line of people outside waiting for these tables.”

“Sorry.” I almost added, Call the ice cream cops. “Did you order already?”

“No,” Mom said. “We were waiting for you.”

I studied the menu. Everything was color-coded. No fat. No sugar. No dairy. No eggs. No taste. Finally, at the bottom was
the real deal. I ordered a peanut butter parfait with extra nuts and whipped cream. Mom opened her mouth, then shut it when
I shot her my most defiant stare. Sometimes it works.

My food diary loomed in my mind. “Okay, forget the extra nuts,” I told the waitress. “And the whipped cream.” That seemed
to please Mom.

Dad made chitchat while we waited. I kept twisting around, looking at the clock. By the time our ice cream arrived, it was
ten to four.

You know how when you eat ice cream in a hurry it makes your head throb? Instant headache. I bet when my brain burst and splattered
gray matter all over the wall, the tables would clear out fast.

Mom said, “Maybe if you ate slower, you’d enjoy your food more.”

“Who says I’m not enjoying it?” I slurped a heaping teaspoonful of parfait into my frozen wasteland of a mouth. “In fact,”
I added, just to irk Mom, “I could probably enjoy another one.”

Vanessa smirked. That encouraged me. “Or even two,” I said, “by the time you guys finish. Could you hurry up?” It was now
three minutes to four.

“What’s the hurry?” Dad said. “We’re just sitting here enjoying each other’s company. Aren’t we, hon?” He took Mom’s hand.

Vanessa and I rolled eyes. “Yeah, well, the people in line aren’t too thrilled about our family hour.”

I thumbed over my shoulder, where a mob of moms with screaming kids machine-gunned us down with dirty looks.

“What else do we want to do today?” Dad asked.

“I’m glad you asked,” I said. “Personally, I’d like to stay and shop. Since we’re here.”

“Good idea,” Mom said. “I need some new pantyhose. And Robert, you could use a few new pairs of boxer shorts.”

Panic surged. My eyes met Vanessa’s. Her panic mimicked mine. Suddenly Van fell forward, clutching her stomach.

“Vanessa, what’s wrong?” Mom said.

“I feel sick,” she replied weakly. “I might have the flu. It’s going around. I haven’t felt good all day.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Mom said.

Vanessa shrugged. “I didn’t want to spoil our family fun time.”

That’s when I knew she was faking it.

Dad stood. “We’d better get you home.”

Mom helped Vanessa to her feet. “That’s the trouble with this family,” Mom said. “We don’t communicate.” She looked at me.

Why was she looking at me? I thought I communicated what I wanted very clearly.

We weren’t even out of our chairs before there was a stroller stampede toward our table. “Yeow!” I cried when a twin double-seater
smashed my foot.

The mad mom didn’t even apologize. And I swear the little brats gave me matching evil grins.

Outside the ice cream parlor, Vanessa stopped and said, “I don’t want to spoil everybody’s fun. We don’t
all
have to go home.”

“Nonsense,” Mom said. “Of course we’re all going. We wouldn’t be a family without you.”

Vanessa heaved a sigh. “There’s no reason Jenny has to come. She could stay and shop. And, I just remembered, I do need a
new clarinet reed. Could you get one for me, Jen? A Mitchell Lurie Premium, three and a half.” She cocked her head at me pathetically.
“I need it by tomorrow.” She coughed.

“Sure, Van. No problem,” I said, like I knew what she was talking about. Squeezing her shoulder, I added, “You just take it
easy. But if you don’t make it, could I have your CD player?”

She almost laughed, then covered it in another cough.

I looked at Dad. He opened his mouth, but before he could speak, I said, “I’ll be all right. You can pick me up in a couple
hours. I’ll call you when I’m ready.” I answered Mom’s unspoken objection with, “I won’t be alone. I saw a couple of friends
earlier. I’ll catch up with them.”

She lived to hear I had friends. It made me seem normal.

Vanessa groaned. “Could we go now?”

Dad’s eyes met Mom’s. Somehow, silently, they settled the debate. Dad dug in his wallet. “If you happen to be in Penney’s,
near the men’s underwear—”

I snatched the twenty. “Not in this life,” I muttered.

He chuckled as he slid an arm around Vanessa’s waist. Before they disappeared into the sunset, Vanessa twisted around and
smiled at me.

For a sister, she was way cool.

L
ydia and her mom, Dr. Marianne Beals, were waiting in front of the Sears store when I got there, huffing and puffing my guts
out. I’d met Dr. Beals when the Squad had a sleepover at Lydia’s house to take glamour photos, and I liked her a lot. For
a mom. Lydia’s complaint was that she was a control freak. But whose mother wasn’t?

“Hello, Jenny,” Dr. Beals said. “How are you?”

“Fine,” I wheezed. Before I could ask about the others, Lydia said, “Prairie is going to meet us here.” She held a finger
to her lips, so I knew not to ask about Max.

“These thefts at your school are unconscionable,” Dr. Beals said to me, like I knew what that meant.

“Yeah, I know,” I said, like I did.

“Lydia tells me Max is innocent. That you think you know who did it, but don’t want to accuse anyone until you have proof.
I think that’s admirable.”

My face flared. Did I say that? Lydia was full of it.

Dr. Beals added, “Even though I really feel you should tell your principal what you know.”

“Mother, please.” Lydia rolled her eyes at me. “I can handle it. That’s what you want me to do, right?”

She didn’t have a comeback for that.

“Yo!”

We all turned. Saved by the Max. She and Prairie materialized out of the crowd. Boy, was I glad to see Max alive and kicking.
Lydia rushed over to greet her, leaving me alone with Dr. Beals, who’d gone stiff as a board.