The Best Friend Read Online Free PDF Page B

room.
    Was it her mother? Who was she talking to?
    Becka climbed two more stairs and stopped. Hidden by the railing, she peered across the landing into her room.
    The door was open more than halfway. The lights were on. Becka could see a portion of her bed.
    Someone was moving around in there, chatting.
    Someone.
    Becka poked her face through the railing and watched.
    Honey!
    Staring across the dark hallway, Becka saw Honey deposit some clothes on Becka’s bed.
    My clothes, Becka realized. What is going on here?
    Honey is in my room, taking clothes out of my closet.
    Honey disappeared from view. Becka heard her voice but couldn’t make out what she was saying.
    When she reappeared, Becka recognized the skirt Honey was wearing. It was the silver skirt Becka had bought for Trish’s party.
    She’s wearing my skirt?
    Becka gripped the rail tightly, frozen, staring in disbelief at what the rectangle of light revealed in the doorway to her bedroom.
    She’s wearing my skirt!
    She was also wearing a silky blue top that Becka’s parents had given her for her birthday.
    Once again, Honey stepped out of view. Becka could hear her opening dresser drawers now.
    What is she doing here?
    Why is she in my room, trying on my best clothes?
    And who, Becka wondered, is Honey talking to?

chapter

6
    â€œH oney!” Becka burst in to her bedroom, her heart pounding.
    â€œOh, hi.” Honey stood up from the dresser drawer she had been leaning over. A smile spread across her face. “You’re home.”
    Becka gaped at her, speechless for a moment. Her eyes darted around the room. Honey, she saw, had removed most of the clothes from the closet and piled them on the bed.
    â€œUh—I didn’t know—I mean, I didn’t expect. . .” Becka stammered, feeling her face grow red.
    â€œYour mom said I could come up,” Honey said casually. She turned and pushed the dresser drawers closed.
    â€œMy mom? She’s home?”
    â€œNo. I think she went out,” Honey told her.
    â€œThen who were you talking to?” Becka demanded, stepping reluctantly to the bed.
    â€œHuh?” Honey stared at her, a bewildered expressionon her face. She pushed back her disheveled pile of auburn hair.
    â€œI heard you talking to someone,” Becka insisted, turning to examine her nearly empty closet.
    â€œNo. Not me,” Honey replied, her smile returning. “I’m all alone.”
    â€œBut—” Becka realized she was still holding her backpack. She let it slide to the floor and kicked it under the bed.
    â€œOh, Becka, I just love your clothes!” Honey gushed. She swirled around in front of the mirror, admiring herself in the silver skirt and the silky blouse. “You always had such great taste! Even when we were little, you knew just what to buy.”
    â€œBut, Honey—”
    â€œI don’t believe this skirt!” Honey exclaimed, not giving Becka a chance to get a word out. She spun around one more time, then walked over to Becka, stopping so close to her that Becka could smell the sweet chewing gum on her breath. Feeling awkward, Becka took a step back.
    â€œI just bought that skirt. I haven’t worn it yet,” Becka said unhappily, hoping Honey would hear how irritated she was.
    â€œWhere did you get it?” Honey chirped. “Not at the mall. You couldn’t have bought this skirt at one of those tacky shops at the mall. Where, Becka? You have to tell me! It’s just so sexy!”
    â€œAt a little shop in the Old Village. Petermann’s, I think,” Becka muttered.
    This can’t be happening, Becka thought miserably.
    Honey didn’t seem to be picking up any of Becka’s signals. She made her way back to the mirror toadmire the outfit. “This top isn’t exactly right. What else goes with the skirt?”
    â€œI don’t know,” Becka said. “I’m going to wear the skirt to a Christmas