How I Saved Hanukkah Read Online Free PDF Page B

giggles.
    When the phone rang, we had to stop. But I said, “We can’t talk, Dad. Mom is teaching us to hora.”
    “Did you say HORA?” my dad said. “I must have the wrong number. I’ll call back later.”
    Ned’s feet got tangled easily, but even he more or less got the general idea. We all jumped and kicked and whirled in a circle and landed in a happy, sweaty heap at the end.
    “Voilà. Hora!” my mom panted.
    *    *    *
    “Sorry about today,” I said when Lucy and I were in our beds that night.
    “Me too,” Lucy said. “I always wanted a little brother or sister.”
    “You’ve got two sisters!” I said.
    “Yeah, but I’m the baby. No one looks up to melike Ned looks up to you. He’s thrilled if you just sneeze in his direction.”
    “I’ve always wanted your big sisters,” I said. “They treat you like a doll.”
    “Exactly,” Lucy said. “Which sounds better? To be a doll that’s played with awhile, then left half-dressed with your head facing backward in the dust and dirty socks under the bed—or to be worshipped like a queen?”
    “You win.” I giggled. “Maybe Ned isn’t so bad after all.”

CHAPTER
7
    T he next day Lucy was brushing my hair on the back-porch swing when she said, “Tonight is Christmas Eve.”
    “I know,” I said. “You’re supposed to be eggnogging and singing carols and stuff, right?”
    “Hmmm,” Lucy said. “Something like that, but . . . ”
    While I was waiting for her to finish her sentence, I remembered her family’s Christmas Eve party last year and my heart started thumping. There had been holly and pretty pine wreaths and stockings on the fireplace. Every inch of Lucy’s house was decorated, even the bathrooms. The tree was gorgeous, lit up and loaded with tinsel and ornaments.
    I remember how I’d felt crazy with jealousy that Lucy had all that and I didn’t. I suddenly just had to have something for myself. When no one was looking,I slipped a teeny gingerbread house off the tree and put it in my pocket.
    I’d wanted to have it in my pocket so badly, but as soon as it was there, I desperately wanted it out. I was scared that someone would catch me putting it back on the tree, though, so I just stood there—feeling miserable.
    Then Lucy’s sister Yaz came up and gave me a present! It was wrapped in candy cane paper with a silver bow. The tiny card had my name on it, and it wasn’t from the whole family, meaning their mom, but just from Yaz. It was the absolute worst moment of my entire life.
    Knowing the gingerbread house was in my pocket while Yaz, the coolest person I’d ever met, was being so sweet to me, had made me dizzy.
    “Go on, open it,” Yaz said.
    So I did. I stared at it awhile, so busy feeling bad about the gingerbread house that my eyes could barely focus.
    “It’s a barrette,” Yaz said. “A hair thing.”
    I guess I still looked dumb so she said, “Extra big to hold all your gorgeous thick hair.”
    Maybe I said, “Thanks,” maybe not. I’m not sure.
    After Yaz shrugged and walked away, I went intothe kitchen. It was mobbed with women laughing and bumping into each other and fixing more and more plates of food. I slipped into the pantry, where the trash basket was, and shoved the gingerbread house deep under the paper plates and other garbage. I’ve wondered a million times since then why I didn’t leave it on a pantry shelf or something.
    Just remembering that awful, awful night, even a whole year later, made me sick all over again.
    Sitting on the swing I felt my neck prickle and I knew I had better hurry and change the subject. I glanced at Lucy, who was staring off in space thinking I-don’t-know-what, maybe about the same Christmas party. I hadn’t even noticed that she had stopped brushing my hair.
    I didn’t want her to ask me why I’d stopped swinging or why my face was beet-red, which it had to be.
    I jumped up and said, “Race you to the fence? On your mark! Get set! Go!” And Lucy