Sleepover Stakeout (9780545443111) (6 page)

I
didn't know what Darcy's problem was. Maybe I'd hurt her feelings over the whole glasses thing. But, obviously, Fiona's opinion would matter more than Darcy's when it came to style. Just like if I wanted to buy a new laptop, I'd ask what Darcy thought, not Fiona. And if someone needed to know how many moons Jupiter has, they'd ask me. (At least sixty-five, though we'll probably discover more in time.) The point is, we know about different things.

But I wasn't about to bring it up again, especially now that we were at Darcy's house and she was acting normal again.

Well, normal for her.

“My mom and I baked cupcakes last night,” she said, taking the lid off a container.

Fiona and I, seated at the kitchen table, leaned over to look inside. They were chocolate cupcakes with orange icing, plus a layer of black icing threaded across to look like spiderwebs. I smiled. They were
so
Darcy.

Fiona sat back in her chair. “Is it Halloween and I just don't know it?”

I reached in and pulled out two cupcakes, handing one to Fiona. “Just eat it and thank me after. Darcy and her mom make great cupcakes.”

Her hostess duties done, Darcy sat down and opened up the black notebook.

“What do we have to add to the case file?” Fiona asked, licking a dot of frosting off her top lip.

“Well,” I said. “We can cross off accidental interference. No one else has a baby monitor.”

“Not necessarily.” Darcy lifted her pencil into the air. “No one has a
baby
.”

I carefully peeled the liner off my cupcake. “What's the difference?”

“The baby monitor is pretty cheap, right? Sixteen bucks? Someone could have bought one knowing Maya would hear the voices. Just to scare her.”

I took a big bite and let Darcy's words settle in. So
that
was her theory. It figured she'd go the conspiracy route, but she had a point. You didn't have to have a baby to buy a monitor. And the voices
had
come through only on Saturday nights, when Maya was babysitting her brother and therefore would be listening. And the voice or voices were certainly creepy. It wasn't just someone talking about nothing important, which is what accidental interference would probably sound like.

I nodded slowly. “It's a definite possibility. But who would do that?”

“I think we have two strong contenders.” Darcy stabbed her finger at the notebook in two places. “Anya and Hunter.”

“Hunter, no doubt,” I agreed. “He loves messing with people. And he's teased Maya before on walks home from school.”

Fiona dabbed at her mouth with a napkin. “But this is a lot more involved than his usual pranks. And I doubt he'd spend his own money on a monitor just to mess with the girl next door.”

Darcy tapped the end of her pencil on the table. “Then there's always Anya: Worst Sister Ever. I wouldn't put it past her.”

“But Maya insisted Anya was out when she first heard the voices,” I said.

“She could've just
told
her she was going out,” Fiona said. “Maybe she took the second monitor into the woods, and she and her friends did the spooky voice into it.”

“The woods
are
in range,” Darcy pointed out.

I scooped the cupcake crumbs into a napkin and balled it up into my hand. Anya
would
know when Maya was home babysitting. When she'd be sitting there watching TV, listening to the monitor. And, from the way I saw her treat Maya, I knew Anya had a mean streak. She was the complete opposite of shy, sweet-natured Maya.

I felt a flash of anger. If someone was doing this on purpose to scare Maya, I wanted to put a stop to it. She didn't deserve to be treated that way.

“But how do we find the evidence?” I said, thinking out loud. “How could we prove it?”

Darcy got a glimmer in her eye. “We catch her in the act.”

“Another sleepover?” I said.

Darcy nodded eagerly. “And this time … we'll be prepared.”

Fiona clapped her hands and bounced in her seat. “Yay! A sleepover! And this time … I can come!”

 

While
Darcy stepped out of the kitchen to call Maya and ask if she wanted to do another sleepover stakeout, I opened my daily calendar in the back of my binder. I tried to figure out a game plan for the rest of my week. But the more I looked at everything I had going on, the more stressed I got.

Mr. Mahoney had assigned us a brand-new science project, right when I wanted to start focusing on my social studies project. Plus, Mrs. Haymon, my math teacher, talked to me after class about some state math competition she wanted me to enter. And this was all on top of my regular homework!

I had so much to do, my head was spinning. Fiona was sitting there happily texting away on her phone. I don't know how she kept it together. Chatting with all her friends, cheering, taking the time to make sure her hair and clothes were perfect every day, plus school stuff. Well, she didn't exactly ace the school stuff, but you know. I'm sure she put in
some
effort.

I looked back at my to-do list and tried to prioritize. Then I put my face in my hands and groaned.

“It's
on
like
no
spelled backward!” Darcy cheered, returning to the kitchen, cell phone in hand.

“The sleepover?” Fiona said.

“Yep!” Darcy slid into the seat next to me. “Saturday night at Maya's. We're going to catch Anya … or whoever … in the act.”

I didn't realize I was rubbing my forehead until Darcy said, “What's wrong, stress ball?”

I pointed at my planner and said, “I'm just feeling a little overwhelmed at the moment.”

“Is it because of the social studies project?” Darcy waved her hand. “Don't worry about it. We'll work on that this weekend.”

“It isn't just one thing,” I started to explain.

Darcy's face lit up. “You know what you need? A night of pizza, popcorn, and
Crime Scene: New York
. It's a new episode tonight.” She aimed a thumb toward the giant TV in the living room.

My shoulders sagged. “I wish I could, but I don't have time.”

Darcy pouted. “What do you have to do?”

“I've done so much Partners in Crime stuff lately, plus I wasted time this week on glasses-induced depression. I have a ton of reading to catch up on and I don't want to fall behind on my homework assignments.”

Then I remembered that my parents were planning a Family Movie Night for tonight, too. Ugh! Like I had time for a movie. Not to mention, I hadn't visited my favorite astronomy blog or done any sky-gazing with my telescope in forever. Even my most-loved hobby was suffering!

Darcy must have seen the panic in my eyes, because she put a steady hand on my shoulder and said, “Chill. I can watch the show alone.” She opened up her laptop and muttered under her breath, “That's what I usually do anyway.”

I didn't have time for one of Darcy's mood swings. Fiona and I stood and grabbed our backpacks, ready to leave. But then Darcy shot a hand out. “Hold up, guys.”

“What?” I asked.

“We just got an e-mail about another case!” Darcy sounded all revved up about it.

My backpack felt heavier on my shoulders as I asked, “What does it say?”

She read aloud. “I heard around school that you guys are running this detective agency like it's real. I need your help. Can we meet tomorrow afternoon?” Then Darcy's eyes got even wider.

“Who's it from?” Fiona said.

Darcy looked up at us. “Hunter Fisk.”

I wagged a finger in the air. I wasn't going to spend any time helping
that
guy. “No. Ohhhhh, no.”

“I know he's a big jerkface,” Darcy said. “But aren't you the least bit curious about what he needs help with?”

“No, I'm not,” I said honestly. “I'm too busy with everything I have to do and our current case for Maya. He probably just wants us to do something illegal, like get him test answers or something.”

“What if he really needs help?” Darcy said.

I gave her a look. Like she cared about helping Hunter Fisk. She just wanted to know what his mystery was — if it even was that.

“I'm not meeting him,” I said. “He can solve his own problem.”

Fiona and I said good-bye to Darcy and headed out the front door. I felt a little bit guilty for saying no to Darcy, but I was seriously so stressed out. I had to catch up on all my work. And we had Maya's sleepover to plan for. And it was
Hunter
… come on.

“See you later, Fiona,” I said and headed toward my house next door.

“Hey, wait a sec,” Fiona said. “I was wondering … would you let me pick out your clothes for tomorrow?”

I looked at her sideways. “What?”

“With your new glasses and all that, I'd love to style you.”

“I'm not your doll,” I joked.

“Come on. Just for one day.” She gently tugged on my ponytail. “Pleeeeease. Please, please, please, please, please.” She hopped in place as she begged.

“Okay, fine, if it will shut you up,” I said with a giggle. “Make it quick, though.”

“I know, brainiac, you have a
ton
to do.”

And then she followed me inside. She may have been skipping.

Fiona
sighed as she flipped through the clothes hanging in my closet. “I feel like an artist who's used to working with oils and paints but was only given a pencil to create a masterpiece.”

I threw myself onto a beanbag chair. “This was
your
idea, remember? Besides, I like my clothes. They're comfortable.”

A hanger screeched as she pulled another rejected choice aside. “All I'm saying is, it wouldn't kill you to branch out and wear something more
colorful
or
interesting
sometimes.” She held up my gray pleated skirt as an example. Then she grinned at me over her shoulder. “Trying new things is good.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I said in a mocking tone. But I wasn't annoyed. I was actually … having fun. Which was strange. Fiona was so different from me, and together we did things that were so different from what I did with Darcy. But different didn't mean bad.

Before I got to know Fiona, I'd always thought of her as superficial and shallow. But it's not that she doesn't care deeply about anything; it's just that she cares about things that don't interest me. And she always thought of me as just a nerd and … well, she still probably thought I was a nerd … but we had this sort of mutual respect thing going on now. I liked it.

Fiona pushed all the hangers to the left and let out a gasp. “What do we have here?” She pulled out a short skirt with a flowery print and held it up, her mouth a giant O in surprise.

“My mom bought it,” I said.

“Well, that explains why it's so cute,” she said. “It's fun and frilly. Love. It.” She tossed the skirt at me. “Try it on. With” — she reached back into the closet and pulled out a thin black sweater — “this thing. It'll have to do.”

I tried on the outfit while Fiona scrambled on her hands and knees through the shoes that littered the bottom of my closet. “Hey, these boots aren't bad,” she said, tossing them over her shoulder.

I put those on, too. And then stood, ready to be judged.

Fiona paced back and forth, tapping the end of her nose. I felt like one of those girls lined up ready to get kicked off a reality show. Finally, after the longest minute ever, she threw her hands into the air. “It's perfect!”

My mouth dropped open. “Really?”

“The skirt is a flirty splash of color, but the black top is sophisticated like your glasses. And the boots tie everything together.” Her eyes snapped up to mine. “You'll need to wear black tights tomorrow, though. Please tell me you have tights.”

“Yes, I have black tights,” I said with a smirk.

“Good.” She clapped her hands together. “Now for your hair.”

 

Fiona
straightened my hair and made me pinky-swear promise that I wouldn't wash it in the morning,
and
that I'd wear the outfit she'd picked out. I'll admit everything looked great, but it was way too much effort. I didn't know how Fiona went through all that trouble every single morning.

My mom insisted Fiona stay for dinner and Family Movie Night. Despite how much I hadn't wanted to waste time watching a movie, the comedy my dad chose was pretty funny. After Fiona left, I was a speed-reading machine and caught up on a ton of work. I was feeling a lot less stressed when I got to school Thursday morning.

Darcy, however, was not.

She hadn't met me at my locker like most mornings, so I poked my head into our homeroom and found she was already there. I slid into my seat in front of her. She had a book open but didn't seem to be reading it, and she was scowling more than usual.

“How was
Crime Scene: New York
?” I asked, pushing my glasses up on my nose. I was still getting used to them.

Darcy shrugged. “Fine.”

Huh. Usually she went into elaborate detail, telling me every twist and turn of the episode.

She looked up at me sharply. “What did you do last night?”

“Family Movie Night. You know how that goes.” The thought occurred to me that once Fiona had decided to stay for the movie, I should have called Darcy and invited her over, too. But she probably would've rather watched
Crime Scene: New York
anyway. So it was for the best that I hadn't.

Darcy snorted and returned to pretend-reading her book.

“Is something wrong?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she mumbled. “That outfit.”

I looked down and smoothed out the skirt with my hands. I'd felt pretty good about the outfit when I put it on that morning. Granted, it wasn't really me, but it was fun to try something new every now and then, I guess. Now, though, I felt self-conscious.

I turned away from Darcy and opened a notebook.

Fiona strolled in and immediately checked to see if I was wearing the clothes she'd picked out. Then she gave me a thumbs-up and took her seat one row over.

I hated this silent treatment thing Darcy and I were doing to each other. And I didn't even know why it was happening. I forced a happy tone into my voice as I turned to my BFF. “So do you want to hang out after school? Do our homework together?”

Her face changed then. The mad look started to go away. But her eyes flashed, as if she remembered something.

“Yeah, sure,” she said. “I'll meet you out at the bike rack.”

I smiled and turned back around in my seat. Everything was going to be fine. Darcy was just moody sometimes, that's all. I accepted that like she accepted the days when I turned into a stress ball.

That's what best friends do.

 

At
lunch, Darcy, Fiona, and I made plans for our Saturday night sleepover, part two.

“I got a new toy to bring with us,” Darcy said, eyes alight. “I'll show you guys when we get to Maya's house.”

“Why does that statement scare me?” Fiona said.

I laughed. “I saw Maya in the hall earlier. She's happy we're coming. I think the time she's spent with us is helping to bring her out of her shell.” I was happy about that. Maya was really nice. She just needed to put herself out there more.

Fiona waggled her eyebrows and said, “Speaking of people being shy …”

I turned to see what she was looking at. Zane was standing at the condiments table. He looked over at me, and my eyes shot back down to my plate. Why did he always catch me staring at him?

“He sure is taking his time picking out a ketchup packet,” Darcy said.

“He totally wants to talk to you,” Fiona added.

Then they both started giggling like idiots.

“Stop it,” I whispered. “You're going to embarrass me.”

“Oh, relax and go talk to him,” Fiona said.

Easy for her to say. This boy stuff came natural to her. It was painful for me. “What would I even say?”

“Oh, I don't know…. You could start with ‘hi,'” Fiona said sarcastically.

I gave her a look and she said, “Come on. You're all dressed up today. It's like fate.”

Fate? Yeah, right. My logical mind does not compute that. Plus, I'd forgotten I was wearing the “special” outfit. Now I wanted to hide under the table.

“You could tell him about the sleepover,” Darcy suggested. “Maybe he'd offer to keep an eye out for anything suspicious in the neighborhood.”

Huh. Now,
that
was something reasonable.

“Oh! He's looking at us! He's looking!” Fiona said, waving her hands. “Go, go!”

I decided to just get up and talk to him before Fiona's head exploded.

I turned and found Zane already walking toward me. We met halfway and I positioned myself so he wasn't facing Darcy and Fiona. I was. He didn't need to see them staring at us the whole time, which I
knew
they were going to do.

“Hey,” I said, sounding desperately uncool.

“Hey, Norah.” He bit his bottom lip. “You look nice. With your glasses and those clothes and stuff … you look … older.”

I looked down at myself and back up again, blushing. “Um, thanks.”

“Though I like your regular clothes just as much,” he added.

And that might have been the best compliment I'd ever gotten.

I grinned and then he smiled and, I'm telling you, his smile was brighter than a supernova. (For you non-astronomers out there, that's
very
bright.)

I shuffled my feet nervously. “So, um, I wanted to let you know that we're doing another sleepover on your street this weekend. At Maya's.”

“Are you still trying to figure out that weird voice?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah. We're hoping to get to the bottom of it Saturday night.”

Darcy was making kissy-faces behind Zane's back. I was glad she liked crime shows so much, because she was going to star in one after I murdered her.

Zane suddenly turned serious. “Be careful out there, Norah. Don't go wandering in the woods behind the houses.”

“Why not?” I asked. Despite the obvious: Woods are creepy.

He fiddled with the ketchup packet in his hand. “I've heard stuff out there sometimes. At night. It could be animals, but who knows. Just … be careful, okay?”

His eyes had this earnest look to them. Like he really did care. He was … worried about me. I'd never really fully grasped the meaning of the word
swoon
until that moment.

I felt my cheeks reddening again as I said, “Okay, I will.”