Finale

arrangement will give her a new outlook.”
    “I’m used to getting my way?” I challenged. “Marcie’s an only child too. If we’re going to point fingers, let’s be fair about it.”
    Marcie smiled, clasping her hands together in delight. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Grey. I really appreciate it.” She had the audacity to bound over and hug my mom.
    “Kill me now,” I muttered.
    “Careful what you wish for,” Marcie crooned in a sugary tone.
    “Are you ready for this?” I asked my mom. “Two teenage girls, one ugly rivalry, and most importantly, one shared bathroom?”
    To my disgust, Mom smiled. “Family: the latest extreme sport. After school, we’ll carry Marcie’s boxes upstairs, get her settled in, and then we’ll all go out for pizza.
Nora, do you think you could ask Scott to help? Some of the boxes might be heavy.”
    “I think Scott practices with his band on Wednesdays,” I lied, knowing full well Vee would throw an epic fit if she discovered I’d knowingly allowed Marcie and Scott in the
same room together.
    “I’ll talk to him,” Marcie piped up. “Scott is such a sweetheart. I can convince him to come over after practice. Is it all right if I invite him for pizza, Mrs.
Grey?”
    Hello? Scott Parnell? A sweetheart? Was I the only one hearing the absurdity in all this?
    “Of course,” Mom said.
    “I have to shower,” I said, looking for any excuse to flee the scene. I’d hit my maximum Marcie limit for the day and needed to recuperate. A daunting thought struck me. If
Marcie moved in, I’d hit my limit by seven every morning.
    “Oh, Nora?” Mom called before I’d reached the stairs. “The school left a message on the phone yesterday afternoon. I think it was the attendance office. Do you know why
they’d be calling?”
    I froze.
    Marcie stood behind my mom, mouthing
Busted
at me, barely able to control her glee.
    “Uh, I’ll swing by the office today and see what they need,” I said. “The call was probably routine.”
    “Yeah, probably,” Marcie echoed, wearing that haughty grin of hers that I hated most of all.

C HAPTER

12
    S HORTLY AFTER BREAKFAST, I BUMPED INTO MARCIE ON the front porch. She was on her way out the door, chatting on her cell
phone, and I was on my way back inside, looking for her.
    “Your 4Runner is blocking my car,” I said.
    She held up a finger, signaling me to wait. I grabbed her cell phone, ended the call, and repeated more testily, “You’re blocking my car.”
    “Don’t blow a gasket. And don’t piss me off. If you touch my cell phone again, I’ll pee in your Cheerios.”
    “That’s disgusting.”
    “That was Scott on the phone. He doesn’t have practice today, and he wants to help move boxes.”
    Great. I could look forward to arguing about this with Vee, who wouldn’t believe me when I said, “I
tried
.”
    “As much as I’d love to sit here and shoot the breeze, I have class. So . . .” I gestured dramatically at Marcie’s 4Runner, which was inconveniently boxing in the
Volkswagen.
    “You know, if you need an excused-absence slip, I have a few extras. I work in the front office, and every now and then they find their way into my purse.”
    “Why would you think I’d need an excused-absence slip?”
    “The attendance office left a message on your phone,” Marcie stated, clearly unimpressed by my feigned innocence. “You skipped class, didn’t you?” It wasn’t
really a question.
    “Okay, so maybe I need an excused absence from the nurse,” I admitted.
    Marcie gave me a patronizing look. “Did you use the old ‘I have a headache’ excuse? Or maybe the classic: PMS. And what did you ditch school for?”
    “None of your business. Can I get the excused slip or not?”
    She opened her purse, scrounged around, and produced a pink slip of paper bearing the school logo. As far as I could tell, it wasn’t a reproduction. “Take it,” she said.
    I hesitated. “Is this one of those things that’s going to come back to haunt me?”
    “My, my, aren’t we suspicious.”
    “If it seems too good to be true . . .”
    “Take the slip already,” she said, waving it in my face.
    I had the bad feeling this was a favor with strings attached. “Ten days from now, are you going to need something in return?” I pressed.
    “Maybe not
ten
days from now . . .”
    I held up my hand. “Then forget it.”
    “I’m only kidding! Yeesh. You are no fun. Here’s the truth. I was trying to be nice.”
    “Marcie,