Odd Girl In (9 page)

There was no way I could say what I knew about each person. All of Trevor's mnemonics had been helpful but not particularly insightful. I couldn't say Dan spent too much time in the sun or that Bobby smelled like an armpit.

“Uh,” I said and pointed to Shelly. “That's Shelly. She has blonde hair.”

“And?” prompted Ms. Success.

I stared at Shelly's desk for clues. “Well, she's not afraid to use pens.” I held up a finger. “Which is saying something because the pen is
mightier
than the sword.” I paused. “That also means she's probably not afraid of swords, so if you were going into medieval battle—”

Ms. Success closed her eyes. “Move it along, Alexis.”

“Right.” I blushed. “Next to Shelly is Jules,” I said. “She likes to wear, um, jewels. Probably diamonds, since they're a girl's best friend. As are dogs.” I frowned. “Oh, wait. Dogs are a
man's
best friend. So maybe cats—”

Nick leaned over. “Stop babbling.”

I struggled through the rest of the names and facts and then Parker went, followed by Nick. And, of course, they both brilliantly rattled off the names and different facts for each student.

“Well done,” said Ms. Success, sending us back to our seats. “Class, your assignment that is due next lesson is teamwork. Keep it fun and keep it legal.”

With a wave, she turned her back to the crowd, and there was an instant shuffling of papers and scraping of chairs as the class gathered their things to leave. My brothers and I hadn't even stepped away from our desks when Ms. Success called our names.

“Come join me for a quick powwow,” she said.

“Great,” muttered Parker. “I wonder what
this
could be about.” He gave me a pointed look and I shoved him.

All Nick had to do was extend his massive hand, one toward each of us, and Parker and I fell silent.

As soon as everyone else had left, Ms. Success gestured for us to grab the desks closest to her.

“I'm not an idiot, kids,” she said. “I know Alexis doesn't have a fear of the front of the room, and frankly, I'm offended that you'd try and stump me with triskaidekaphobia. Nobody is afraid of snack crackers, Triscuits or otherwise.”

Parker opened his mouth but then clamped it shut and nodded.

Ms. Success continued. “Alexis, I'm disappointed that you didn't try harder to get to know your classmates,
especially
since you're struggling with social skills.”

I stared at my hands. “Sorry, Ms. Success.”

“Work on it.” She moved on to my brothers. “Nick, I didn't hear you participate once in class. Did you even read the chapters?”

“I, uh.” He stuttered for a moment, then said, “I didn't have time.”

Ms. Success didn't look remotely sympathetic. “Set a schedule and find some time for reading, okay?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“And Parker,” she said, “I'm lethal with a high heel. If you interrupt me during class again, I'm not above decapitating you with a Jimmy Choo.”

Parker nodded. “Yes, Ms. Success.”

“Those things being said”—she faced us and allowed herself a small smile—“I was impressed with your over-the-top entrance. You rolled with the punches and became the Energetic Evins. You were also supportive of each other, which, I understand from your father, doesn't happen a lot.” She flashed us a thumbs-up. “Keep up the good work.”

We grabbed our things and headed for the exit. As
soon as we reached open air, Parker gave an all-over body shudder.

“That woman is
intense
. I think my hair's standing more on end than usual.”

“And where am I supposed to find more time?” asked Nick, yawning. “I can barely stay awake for school as it is.”

I snapped my fingers. “I know just the thing. Wait here!”

I hurried back into the building and went down the hall to the faculty lounge. I checked to make sure the coast was clear, then I poured a cup of coffee and walked toward the exit as fast as the sloshing liquid allowed.

Just outside Ms. Success's office door, I heard voices. Emily was talking to her stepmother.

“I'm not sure if he's doing it out of pity, but it's a start,” said Emily. “I mean, he notices me now.”

I pressed my back against the hallway wall. She was talking about Trevor. With Ms. Success. I never would have imagined the two of them in a conversation like
that
.

“If he was smart, he would have noticed you the whole time,” said Ms. Success.

“He
is
smart,” said Emily. “
I'm
just …” She paused and made an exasperated sound.

Ms. Success answered with a clucking tongue. “The next words out of your mouth better be positive ones. Nobody insults my kiddo.”

I stared into the coffee cup I was holding and bit my bottom lip. Emily and Ms. Success were having a mother-daughter moment. I'd always wondered what those were like. Now I kind of wished I'd gotten to know firsthand.

When I walked past the office, they were too busy laughing together to even notice me.

Chapter 7

O
f course the teamwork project wasn't
just as simple as meeting at Emily's house. I was required to arrive half an hour
before
Trevor so Emily could go over the ground rules with me.

“Let me do most of the talking,” she said. “And if I say something funny, laugh heartily.”

“Laugh
heartily
?” I repeated. “As in, clutch my belly like Santa Claus?”

“No, do this …” She slapped her thigh and demonstrated an over-the-top laugh that almost looked painful.

“I've
never
laughed that hard,” I said. “Even when Nick brushed his teeth with bodywash.”

Emily groaned in aggravation and wandered into the kitchen.

“You know Trevor isn't expecting you to be a comedian,” I said, following her. “Or anything else you aren't.”

Emily checked her reflection in the toaster and applied more lip gloss. “I just want to offer something that Chloe doesn't. I want him to think I'm unique.”

“Oh, you definitely are,” I said.

She frowned at me. “Not unique like a circus freak, Alexis.”

“Fine, but all joking aside, you
do
stand out,” I said. “In an ambitious way. I can't think of anyone else who would buy ingredients for a hundred different desserts when she's only making one.”

I gestured to the kitchen counters, which were covered with spices, fruits, and all kinds of other baking ingredients.

“I don't know what Trevor's planning to make,” she said. “And I don't want him to think I'm unprepared.”

The doorbell rang then, and Emily practically jumped out of her skin. “He's early!”

“Well, your stepmom
did
teach him time management skills,” I pointed out.

Emily flashed me an annoyed look and ran to the door.

“Hey!” said Trevor when she let him in. He smiled at her and waved to me. “I hope you don't mind, but I brought
the ingredients to make my mom's famous carrot cake.” He gestured to the paper grocery bag in his arm.

The tiniest flicker of annoyance passed over Emily's face, but she forced a smile. “Mind? Why would I mind? I mean, it's not like there's dozens of groceries waiting in the kitchen.”

She let out a laugh that was probably meant to sound casual but came out kind of crazy. To show my support, I slapped my thigh and said, “Ha!”

Trevor stared at both of us. “So the kitchen's through here?” He started down the hall, but Emily grabbed his elbow.

“Hey, let Alexis take that bag.” She took it from Trevor and put it into my arms. “I wanted to show you something in the, uh, bathroom. It's that way.” She pushed him in the opposite direction of the kitchen and turned back to me.

“Get rid of all the food!” she hissed. Then she hurried to join him.

I stood there for a second, holding Trevor's groceries and wondering just how I'd become Emily's lackey. Then I headed to the kitchen and gathered up armfuls of unopened ingredients, shoving them into the biggest empty space I could find—the dishwasher.

I'd just started laying out Trevor's items when I heard him and Emily approaching.

“Isn't that something?” she asked Trevor.

“Uh, yeah,” he said. “I never noticed how much a flushing toilet sounds like the ocean.” He gave me a strange look and I smiled.

“So what are we cooking up?” I asked.

“Oh, right. Voila!” Trevor reached into his back pocket and pulled out an index card.

He rattled off the list of ingredients while I grabbed the matching items. Or rather, while I
tried
to grab the matching items. Every time I reached for something, Emily would dart forward and snatch it away.

“Here are the carrots, Trevor!” she announced, followed by:

“Got the milk!”

“All eggs accounted for!”

“Pecans coming right up!”

Just to throw her off, I grabbed a dog toy from the floor. Emily yanked it from me and, before she realized, presented it to Trevor.

He looked at the squeaky newspaper, smiled, and said, “Uh, maybe we can read
The Daily Growl
later.”

Emily blushed and laughed. “Whoops!” Then she whirled around and fixed me with a frown. I shrugged innocently.

When it came time to start mixing the ingredients, Emily sidled up to one side of Trevor so I moved to the other.

She glanced at me and snapped her fingers. “You know what? We should
both
bring a dessert to the party.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Huh?”

She nodded. “Alexis, why don't you go ahead and start one too?”

“Uh, because I can't cook,” I said. “And because we're supposed to be practicing
teamwork
, remember?”

Emily crossed her arms and gave me a condescending smirk. “Oh, Alexis, don't you see?
We
are. We're working together to get twice as much accomplished.”

I shook my head. “Unbelievable.”

Clever Trevor sensed the girl trouble brewing and jumped in to help. “I can go between the two of you,” he said, turning to me. “When I'm done helping Emily with a step, I can go over it with Alex.”

Emily's smirk flattened, but Trevor couldn't see it with his back to her.

“That's okay,” I said. “I'll try doing it on my own.”

Emily flashed me a grateful smile and took Trevor's arm. “Let's get started.”

“Uh, okay,” he said, giving me a shrug.

As it turned out, cooking wasn't hard.

It was impossible.

The recipe instructed me to sift flour. When I asked Emily what sifting was, she wordlessly pointed to a huge silver cup with a crank on one side, and then went back to mooning over Trevor. I poured flour into the cup, and began turning the handle while I wandered over to watch them work. What I didn't realize was that there were holes in the bottom of the sifter for the flour to drain through.

When I looked into my cup to check the progress, it was completely empty, and my shoes, pant legs, and half of the kitchen were coated like a winter wonderland.

“Crud,” I mumbled.

Trevor and Emily glanced at me, then down at my floury path.

“I was just making a trail back to my bowl,” I said. “In case I got lost.”

Trevor smiled. “At least we won't stick to the floor.”

Emily rolled her eyes.

I gave up on sifting and dumped flour directly into the bowl, mixing it with the other ingredients. Then I checked the recipe again, which said to coat the baking pan with grease.

“Why?” I mumbled, flipping the pan upside down. “Hey guys, the instructions say to grease …”

Emily thrust a canister of shortening at me. “Here.”

“Okay, but …” She turned back to Trevor before I could finish.

Making a face, I reached into the container for a giant glob of fat. I supposed that coating the outside of the pan with grease kept the cake from baking too fast or something. Just to make sure, I slathered it on extra thick and flipped the pan back over to pour in the batter. After sliding the cake into the oven, I joined Trevor and Emily.

“You guys need help?” I asked. “I'm pretty good with grease.” I spun the shortening can on my index finger.

Trevor laughed and Emily took the container from me.

“We're doing fine,
thanks
.” She smiled and nodded toward the back patio. “Why don't you wait outside?”

“Yeah, we're almost done here,” said Trevor, sidling up beside her.

So much for teamwork. Without another word, I plodded outside and flopped onto a lawn chair.

A few minutes later, the sliding glass door opened.