BFF* Read Online Free PDF Page B

don’t try to stretch out my legs. There’s a nice spicy smell, too, which makes me hungry, even if I’ve just finished dinner.
    While I was talking to Rachel I munched on the macadamia peanut brittle one of Mom’s clients brought her from Hawaii. I tried Alison’s number after I’d talked to Rachel, but her line was busy so I went into the den to watch TV with Bruce.
    Next year, when we get cable, we’ll have MTV. Aunt Denise’s neighborhood already has cable, and my cousin, Howard, watches MTV all the time, even while he’s doing his homework. Mom says I’ll never be allowed to do my homework in front of the tube. I say,
We’ll see
.
    Bruce went to bed at ten. One thing about Bruce, he falls asleep really fast, as soon as his head hits the pillow. Same as me.
    I went to the bathroom and used the Water Pik. Then I scrubbed my face. Some nights I don’t bother washing my face at all. I keep forgetting to ask Mom if scrubbing your face willkeep you from getting acne. I scrubbed mine until it turned very pink, to make up for all the nights I’m too lazy to do anything.
    Next, I decided to call Dad. I went down the hall to Mom’s room and looked up Dad’s number in the little phone book she keeps in her night table. There was also a flashlight in her drawer, and some lip goo.
    I dialed the number of Dad’s apartment. The phone rang three times before Dad’s answering machine clicked on with Dad’s voice saying, “This is Steve Hirsch. I’m not home right now but if you leave a message …”
    â€œHi Dad,” I said at the sound of the beep. “It’s Stephanie. I just wanted to say hello.”
    I went back to my room. The house was so quiet. There was a half moon outside my window and it lit up Benjamin Moore’s poster. Well, Benjamin, I thought, as I got into bed. It’s just you and me tonight. I wish you were real. I wish you could come down off the ceiling and kiss me goodnight. You look like you’d be a great kisser.
    I rolled over and fell asleep. I slept until a frightening sound woke me. I sat up in bed, my heart pounding. Then I raced down the hall to Mom’s room. But Mom wasn’t home yet. I grabbed the baseball bat from under her bed. She keeps it there when Dad is away, just in case. I glanced at the clock—11:20—not even an hour since I’dgone to bed. I listened for other sounds, trying to decide if I should call the police or a neighbor, but all I heard was Bruce, crying and calling for Mom. I ran to his room, clutching the baseball bat, and that’s when I realized nothing was wrong in the house. It was just Bruce, having one of his nightmares.
    I sat down at the edge of his bed. He threw his arms around me, sobbing. I held him tight. I would never put my arms around him during the day. Not that he’d let me. His face felt hot and wet with tears. He smelled like a puppy.
    â€œThe usual?” I asked.
    â€œYes … I saw it,” he said, gulping for air. “I saw the bomb … it was silver … shaped like a football … rolling around in the sky. When it got to our house it started to fall … straight down … and then there was a flash of light … and I heard the explosion …”
    â€œIt’s all right,” I told him. “It was just a bad dream.”
    â€œIt’s coming,” Bruce said, “the bomb is coming ….”
    â€œBut it’s not coming tonight,” I told him, stroking his hair. His hair was soft and damp around the edges.
    â€œHow do you know?”
    â€œI just know. So there’s no point in worrying about it now.”
    â€œIt could be the end of the world,” Bruce said, shuddering.
    â€œLook,” I told him, “if it happens, it happens.” I don’t like to think about the end of the world or the bomb so I don’t. I’m good at