Drop by Lisa Papademetriou

Author:Lisa Papademetriou
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780375891373
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2008-11-11T00:00:00+00:00

“What are you doing?”

“Ow, dammit!” Kat rubbed her head where she had smashed it against the doorframe. “It’s not funny,” Kat said, even though she really didn’t blame her sister for giggling. She knew she must look ridiculous—crawling around the bottom of her closet, butt out, and jumping at the slightest noise. “Don’t you know how to knock?” Kat grabbed a boot and shoved a small wad of bills inside.

“Is that money?” Lala asked.

Kat slid the boot back into place in the darkest corner of her already dark closet. “If you touch it, the cops will never find your body.”

“I wouldn’t take your money.” Lala looked offended.

Kat stood up, dusting off her hands, which were filthy, thanks to that boot. It was half of a pair she hadn’t worn since eighth grade. Kat knew she should throw them away, but the thought made her anxious. “I know,” she admitted…grudgingly. Lala was “pathologically honest,” in Trish’s words. She didn’t lie, didn’t steal—wouldn’t even cheat at Monopoly. She was good. Really, really good. The thing that amazed Kat was how effortless Lala’s goodness was. She didn’t even have to think about it.

Lala flung herself dramatically across Kat’s bed, her long, dark hair spilling over the edge. “What’s it for?” she asked the ceiling.

“What?”

Lala rolled over onto her side and watched as Kat sat on the edge of the bed. Automatically, Lala slid over to give her sister more room. “The money,” she said.

“For a rainy day.”

“No, really—what for?”

Kat looked her dead in the eye. “It’s for rain, Lala,” she said. It had only recently occurred to Kat that money might just be the answer to her problems. If she could save up enough, maybe she could take off before the parole hearing even appeared on the calendar. But she only had about seventy dollars. Enough to take her and Lala exactly nowhere.

“Jeez, sorry I asked,” Lala said, flopping backward again.

Kat heard a door slam. Trish was home.

“Kat…,” Lala said slowly, as if she had been thinking something over. She turned her face to look at her sister so that her cheek was pressed against the scratchy olive blanket that covered Kat’s bed.

“Yes?” Kat arched an eyebrow at her.

Lala winced, scrunching up her face, then peeked out of one eye. “Can I have twenty-three dollars?”

Kat snorted. “That didn’t take long.”

“I need it,” Lala said.

“Well, then, by all means, help yourself.” Kat gestured grandly to the closet. “Feel free to take fistfuls of the money I’ve been saving and just—”

“Forget it, forget it—”

“—just go to the mall and get yourself a makeover, or maybe a new pair of socks, or—oh, I know!—how about a scented candle?”

“I said, forget it.” Sighing in frustration, Lala slapped her hand against Kat’s mattress. It bounced back slightly, and something about the futility of that gesture made Kat clamp her mouth shut.

Grudging silence settled over the room. Kat felt like a resentful hen perched on her eggs, fluffed out and indignant at the presence of a passing cat. But

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