A Little Help From My Friends by Anne Dayton

Author:Anne Dayton [Dayton, Anne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2013-03-07T00:00:00+00:00

27

“Hi, Zoe.” Michael says the right thing as he answers the door, but he forgets to make eye contact.

Riley whispers something in his ear, and he smiles, then runs into the house. She opens the door wider, and I follow her inside. We agreed to meet on the eve of Christmas Eve, which I always thought deserved a name of its own. This year I could call it Last-minute Panic Shopping for Marcus Day. The guy is impossible to buy for. I spent three hours downtown today and still showed up at Riley’s house empty-handed.

“Hey, guys.” I wave at Ana and Christine, and they mumble something over a bad Christmas TV special. We’re all pretty much in Christmas break comas.

“Zoe, how are you tonight?” Mr. McGee stands up and nudges Michael. This is called modeling. It’s important to show good social behavior so that Michael can learn it.

“I’m good. Thanks for asking,” I say, making sure I’m doing the modeling thing too. There’s a game board spread out on the table. “Are you playing chess?” Mr. McGee is tall and thin and has brown hair with two small patches of gray at his temples. It’s funny. He’s always struck me as a little geeky, while Mrs. McGee is so . . . like Riley. Popular, loud, outgoing. I wonder how they met.

“Okay, we’re all here. Let’s get to it.” Ana stands up and yawns.

Riley and I exchange a look.

“Didn’t you tell them?” I ask.

“It’s complex,” Riley says through her teeth. It just made sense for Riley to tell them. It’s her house, not mine.

“Tell us what?” Christine narrows her eyes. “If this is some kind of prank, I’m out. I’m on good behavior until Christmas. I think Candace and Dad are seriously considering getting me an this expensive set of oil paints I want as an I’m-sorry-there’s-a-puking-baby-on-the-way gift.”

“Well . . .” I take a breath, but the doorbell rings.

“I’ll get it!” Michael pops up from the kitchen table and dashes to the door. Within seconds, a familiar voice pierces our silence.

“Um, hi, Michael.” Ashley’s normally sure voice sounds unsteady, even from here.

Ana falls back on the couch. Christine’s eyes become as big as saucers. I think fast while Michael practices making small talk with Ashley.

I scramble over to them and whisper, “She knows something about Ms. Moore’s case. She’s going to help us.”

Ana shakes her head quickly back and forth. “She’ll double-cross us.”

Riley steps toward them. “Trust us. Okay?”

Ashley walks into the room, and I can almost hear her gulp. Ana and Christine stare at the floor.

“Glad you could make it,” I say and wave her into the living room, trying to affect a normal tone. I’ve been dreading this moment ever since Ashley called and told me I could tell the girls—and only the girls.

“Ashley?” Mr. McGee pushes himself up from the kitchen table. “Um, hi.” He shakes his head in disbelief. “I haven’t seen you in ages. How . . . are you?” Riley glares at her dad.

“Well, ha ha.

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