The Chocolate Pirate Plot Read Online Free PDF Page A

stairs that lead to the second floor of our house seemed to have grown even steeper as I went up them. If I tried to talk to her, how would Brenda react? Would there be tears? Yelling? Would she order me out of her room? Shove me back down the stairs? What should I say to her?
    The door to her room was closed. I decided that knocking was unwise, since she could just tell me I couldn’t come in. I opened the door a crack and spoke.
    â€œIt’s Lee. Ready to talk?”
    I didn’t wait for an answer. I just slipped inside.
    Brenda was sitting on the opposite side of the bed, leaning back against two pillows. She was still dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, though she’d kicked her tennis shoes off. Sodden tissues were heaped on the bed beside her. She didn’t speak, or even look at me.
    I sat down on the foot of the bed. “Do you think Joe can beat Will up?”
    Brenda gasped. “Oh! Will’s really strong! And Will’s a lot—well, younger than Joe is.”
    â€œYes, but Joe’s wily. He was a wrestling champion, you know. And he’s extremely mad at Will.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œBecause Will made you unhappy.”
    She sobbed. “Why should Joe care?”
    â€œYou’re our babysitter. I mean, sister!”
    Brenda gave a funny little laugh, more like a hiccup. “Oh, Lee! You’re so funny!”
    â€œLie down,” I said. “I’ll rub your back the way my grandmother used to rub mine.”
    I was rather surprised when Brenda complied, flopping onto her stomach. I stood up, leaned over her, and began to rub her shoulders. I didn’t ask any questions, and she continued to cry quietly, but after about five minutes she spoke.
    â€œOh, Lee, it was awful! Will says Marco Spear can’t act!”
    Marco Spear couldn’t act? That was what all this drama was about?
    Somehow I managed to refrain from either laughing or blurting out, “Whoever thought he could?” I just kept rubbing Brenda’s back, and after I had control of myself I said, “How did this quarrel come up, Brenda?”
    One of the activities Will and Brenda both enjoyed, of course, was movies. “I mean films,” she said. So both had taken a college course in film criticism. “You know,” Brenda said, “arts and humanities requirement.”
    Since Young Blackbeard had been the most popular film of the spring semester, each class—the one at Michigan State and the one at North Texas Junior College—had discussed it. Brenda had come away convinced that the film was a masterpiece and that Marco Spear’s performance was worthy of an Academy Award. Will had been convinced that the movie was a piece of trash and that Marco Spear was a complete ham.
    â€œIt’s not just that we disagree,” Brenda said, sniffing.
    â€œIt’s that he didn’t respect your opinion,” I said.
    â€œNo! He didn’t! And besides”—she sobbed—“he said I only liked Marco Spear because he’s s-s-sexy!”
    I longed to laugh, but Brenda’s emotional upset was too serious to take lightly. “Do you think Will could be jealous?”
    â€œOf Marco Spear? That’s silly! He’s not a real person.”
    Of course, Marco Spear definitely was a real person, but I understood what Brenda meant.
    At least the commotion gave Brenda and me a good reason to have a heart-to-heart talk, and I found out some interesting information.
    Brenda wasn’t at all sure how she felt about Will. He was “really, really nice.” And a lot of fun. And she liked him. (I interpreted that as meaning she found him sexually attractive.) Yes, someday she might want to marry him. But back in Texas she was involved in activities and fun at the area junior college. And there was another guy. “We’ve gone out since junior high. It’s not serious! ” (Did that mean she wasn’t sexually attracted to him?