The Invisible Rules of Zoe Lama by Tish Cohen

Author:Tish Cohen [Tish Cohen ]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781443402736
Publisher: HarperCollins Canada

Sorcerer’s Stands Require Written Permission

The Snow Ball Planning Committee meeting is on the library floor beside the fake fireplace. It’s after school and there should be, like, zero chance of us spilling any food on the new lemon-yellow floor pillows.

So far it’s me, Laurel, Susannah, Smartin, and the two LameWizards. But they don’t count. They never look up except to groan when they lose a match to a goblin or something.

“Psst,” Susannah pssts. She leans close and says, “I’ve got major news.”

“Yeah?” I crawl farther away from the LameWizards so they don’t hear.

“I just heard from a Sixer, Jack Muldoon, that your Man-on-One-Knee, Riley, spent two weeks’ allowance on an antique gold necklace. He’s planning to give it to you when he invites you to the dance.” Susannah sniffs and rolls her tongue around in her mouth to clear out the Major news.

“Gold?” I ask. “Wow. But wouldn’t that cost a whole lot more than two weeks’ allowance?”

Susannah snorts and explains, “By antique, Jack might have meant, you know, thrift store. And I never said the gold would be real. Oh, and Riley’s going to insist you wear it to the dance so you can be Fred and Ginger.”

“Who?” Laurel asks.

“Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers. They’re some famous dancing couple from the olden days.” Susannah shrugs. “My mom watches them in old movies and then yells at my dad for never taking her dancing.”

Just when I’m thinking maybe Riley and I could become a famous dancing couple, in comes Maisie with Brianna Simpson, eating chocolate cookies that probably contain zero butter.

“Hey, Zoë,” Maisie says, holding out her cookie. “Want a bite?”

“Thanks, no,” I say, smiling.

Brianna starts giggling and bumping shoulders with Maisie. “That totally reminds me, Maisie. Remember…Bite? Bite yourself!” And they both crash to the ground laughing. Personally, I don’t see what’s so funny. Also, I don’t see how these two could possibly have an inside joke yet, when it hasn’t even been two whole days since Brianna became Maisie’s number one BFIS.

Unwritten Rule #7. Inside Jokes Require a Minimum of Eight Days of Friendship.

So they’re rolling on the floor laughing, spewing butterless cookie crumbs all over the new floor pillows, when I decide, as the Snow Ball Planning Committee chairgirl, that it’s time to take control.

“Ahem.” Chairpeople should always begin an announcement by clearing their throats. Even when their throats feel perfectly clear.

Maisie and Brianna look at each other, burst out laughing, and flop even more on the lemon-yellow pillows.

The nerve! Just when I’m wondering if my chairgirl status allows me to send flopping people to the office, Handsome Married Mr. Lindsay walks in.

“Okay, troops,” he says with a whole bunch of hand rubbing. “Let’s plan ourselves a dance, everybody. What do you say?”

We all shrug and mumble, “Okay.” Inside, I pray he doesn’t do the finger bang-bang thing again.

He puts a hand to his ear and says, “What? I can’t hear you.”

We say, “Okay,” a bit louder.

“I can’t he-ear you!”

“OKAY!”

Then Mrs. Kettleby, the librarian, scoots out of her office and goes, “Shhhhh!” and some of us glare at Handsome Married Mr.

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