Revenge of the Snob Squad by Julie Anne Peters

Author:Julie Anne Peters
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: JUV019000
ISBN: 9780316072236
Publisher: Little, Brown Books for Young Readers
Published: 2009-11-30T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

“I know where she lives,” Max said as we thrashed through the junkyard toward the Peacemobile.

“Where who lives?” Lydia asked. We settled into our designated places.

“Mustard head,” Max said.

It took Lydia a minute. “You know where Ashley Krupps lives? She never told me where she lives.”

I knew where she lived. I never wanted to go back there again.

Max shrugged. “My brother sold her brother a rebuilt engine for his ’87 Olds, and I went with him to help put it in.” She thumbed behind her. “It’s down a couple of streets from here on Quigley. That big brown and white house.”

“Yeah, the giant Oreo,” I said. “My bus drives by it every day.” I used to love that house. It always got me hyped for my after-school snack. That was before. Now I get queasy when we pass.

“Are you ready to firebomb it now?” Max asked.

We all stared at her, considering. Even if Max knew how to make a firebomb… I shook the thought loose. “Why don’t we just TP it?”

For a long moment all you could hear were the springs groaning under my weight. Then Max’s eyes gleamed. So did Prairie’s. Lydia said in a sigh, “I don’t think my mom would let me go out after dark to TP a house.”

“Would she let you out to firebomb it?” I asked.

Lydia sneered.

Max said, “Don’t tell her what you’re planning to do—” I know she wanted to add something like “wart head.”

“I mean, I don’t think she’ll let me out at night, period.”

That was a problem. Even if I had a Big Mac attack an hour after dinner, I couldn’t go out alone at night either.

“Can’t you sneak out?” Max said.

Lydia didn’t answer. Neither did I. Confirming we were wimps.

Prairie said, “W-why d-don’t we have a sleep-over or s-something? That’d be a g-good excuse.”

“A sleep-over,” I repeated. “Here at Max’s. Brilliant, Prairie. As usual. Have a Tootsie Roll Pop.” She selected grape from the open plastic package that I’d pulled from my backpack. Maybe in a group, maybe with a purpose, I could stand going near Ashley’s house again.

“Sleep here?” Max’s voice cracked. “At my house?”

“Sure,” I replied. “We can all bring sleeping bags and spread out in your living room.”

“No!” Max’s face took on a shade reminiscent of Grey Poupon. “It’s Friday night. We can’t do it here. Not in my house. No way.”

We all looked at Max. She just kept shaking her head and saying, “No way. Not tonight. It’s Friday night.” I wondered what went on in her house on Friday nights. Apparently it was something bad. Something she didn’t want us to see. Maybe Friday was the night Scuzz-Gut Baggied up body parts.

Prairie piped up, “W-what about sleeping out here? In the van?”

We arched hopeful eyebrows at Max.

Her eyes darted around. “Yeah, I guess that’d be okay. As long as you didn’t go in the house to go to the bathroom or anything.”

We looked at each other. “No problem. We’ll hold it. Right?” I was kidding, sort of.

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