How to Ruin a Summer Vacation (Ruined Series #1) by Simone Elkeles

Author:Simone Elkeles [Elkeles, Simone]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: ePub Bud (www.epubbud.com)
Published: 2006-10-01T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 16

I can do anything you can do, and I can do it better. I think.

Just call me Amy the Sheep Shearer. That's what I've been trying to convince myself of all morning. After I found the note that Snotty wants to meet me after breakfast for our little challenge, that is.

Unfortunately, last night was not a nightmare. I really and truly challenged Snotty, and I hadn't even had any of that beer I was accused of consuming. Okay, I realize I'm the stupid one here, but I'm still determined to prove to her that I do not screw everything up.

I dress in jeans and a long-sleeve T-shirt for full protection. I don't have any protective goggles, so I put on my Coach sunglasses. Walking outside, I see Mutt bouncing toward me.

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"You find my sandal yet?"

To answer me, he rolls onto his back. His tongue is hanging out of his mouth like a beggar.

"Don't grovel," I say. "It's not attractive."

I pick the mutt up and carry him with me. He might prove useful when I'm trying to corner the sheep. "Okay," I say. "Let's get a game plan. You make me look good, and I'll forget the sandal incident. Okay?"

Mutt's answer is a big fart.

This is not going to be my day.

When I reach the sheep pens, Ofra is the first person I see.

"You don't have to do this," she says.

Oh, yes I do. For me. For Mutt. For Americans all over the globe. Ofra's lack of confidence in me just furthers my resolve.

"That's okay. I want to do it," I assure her.

Doo-Doo comes over to me and gives me pointers. "Hold him down. Keep your eye on him. Don't drop the razor on your toe."

He's like a boxing coach, and in the ring is my opponent.

They've placed one sheep in the pen, along with a large razor hanging from the ceiling. Doo-Doo helps me strap the razor to my hand.

I survey my surroundings. Snotty is sitting on top of a railing with O'dead at her side. Ofra and Doo-Doo, my supporters, are beside me.

Avi is nowhere in sight. I'm surprised he didn't come to watch me get eaten alive by a sheep.

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In the opposite pen is another sheep. Snotty's. I swear, it looks a lot smaller than mine.

Taking a deep breath, I enter the pen with the unsuspecting animal. He's even bigger than I thought. You'd think Snotty would have enough compassion to give me a lamb like the one in the nursery rhyme, but no.

This is definitely not Mary's little lamb. And its fleece is as dirty as Mutt's, not white as snow.

Snotty enters the other pen. She jumps right in, like she does this every day. Then she turns to me. "You're really going to go through with it?"

"Hell, yeah." I once saw a bumper sticker that showed a picture of an American flag and the caption below These Colors Don't Run. I'm not about to chicken out. Even though I really, really want to.

"Okay," she says, pure disbelief on her face.

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