The One and Only Zoe Lama Read Online Free PDF

exploding.”
    She tucks her chin into her shoulder and smiles. “That’s okay.” She holds up a stickercovered shoe. “They actually look good on my sneakers.”

    They don’t, but I fake-nod to boost her self-esteem. I ask, “Did you get my e-mails while I was gone? About not using plastic in the microwave and taking the other route to school?”
    “Yup. I cut through the townhouse parking lot, like yousaid, and I got to school two and a half minutes earlier. Now I have time to stop in front of Brandon’s house and see if I can see him through the bushes.”
    No. Spying on your crush is very bad. Especially if your crush is Brandon Skinner, Lord of the LameWizards—Allencroft Middle School’s gaggle of electronic gamers. “Actually, Sylvia…” I put my arm around her shoulders and guide her into the hall before Laurel and Susannah go outside and get involved in some sort of horrid winter sport in the playground. “You might want to put those extra minutes to better use. Like getting to class early enough to comb your bangs after pulling off your hat. You know what static cling does to thin hair…”

    She nods furiously as we jog down the stairs to the foyer. “Right. That’s true. But he actually waved at me when he was getting into his mom’s Jeep last Thursday.”
    I stop her. “There’ll be no more hedge-hiding for you. No amount of waving is worth the scratches and scrapes on your face. Or your pride.”
    “But I’m waiting for the chance to ask him to my Scottish dance recital.”
    Whoa. “I’d rethink that one,” I say, holding the dooropen. Wind nearly blows off her hat and she grabs it.
    “But why?” she asks. “I happen to know his ancestors are Scottish and Devon said—”
    “What?”
    Sylvia looks flustered. It’s so noisy in the playground, I can barely hear her.
    “Well, I know one of his grandparents is from Scotland, anyway. Two of the others are from Ireland, but it’s still pretty close…”
    From a snowbank, Laurel shouts, “Zoë, come see this!”
    I wave to her that I’ll be a minute. “No, you said something about Devon.”
    “Oh yeah. Just that she said I should get front-row tickets for Brandon and tell him I’ll leave a chocolate caramel on his seat.”
    This makes my eyes clamp shut in horror. Unwritten Rule #4—One Lama Per School. No Exceptions—exists for a reason. Two lamas lead to a sticky, gooey mess. “No, no, no. That’s terrible advice!”
    “She said it was romantic. Like something from a Hilary Duff movie.”
    “It’s sappy and needy and…tragic!” I say, rubbing my forehead. “It’s not for real life. I don’t recommend you try that with any boy, but especially not a boy like Brandon.”
    “Why? Devon says his long eyelashes mean he’s passionate.”
    I roll my eyes. I swear I’m never going into quarantine again. “Long eyelashes mean he has dust allergies. Brandon has a long, ugly history of not wanting girls that want him bad.”
    She crinkles her nose. “I’ve never heard that.”
    “Of course you haven’t heard it. That’s what you have me for. Don’t you remember last Valentine’s Day, when Alice sent Brandon a cookiegram that said, ‘Roses are red, violets are blue, buttercups have sunshine, and I have you’?”

    “No.”
    “He sent back a broken piece of cookie that said, ‘My dad’s a cop.’”
    Sylvia looks sick. “Whoa.”
    “Whoa is right. The only way to land Brandon Skinner is to shatter his core first. Nothing horrible, just enough to make him think you couldn’t care less about him. Then, and only then, you can think about inviting someone else to your dance recital right in front of him.”
    “Another boy?”
    “Sure. Or a girlfriend.” I reach down to smooth my scarf. “Someone who helps you out from time to time…”
    Sylvia gets knocked sideways by a couple of sixth-grade boys having a snowball fight. She rights herself and adjusts her hat. “I already asked. Devon’s busy that