The Sisters Club Read Online Free PDF Page B

Monkey: What’s wrong with that?
    Me: I messed up! Now I’ll never get the part, and Scott Howell will hate me forever. Here’s what I said. No lie. I said, “Is it his fault that he is so ugly and has so few zits ?”
    Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! (Laughter from evil un-stepsisters offstage.)

 
    Alex flung open the door. She glared at us with mice eyes, all puffy like she had been crying. She started swearing at us in Shakespeare. “You gore-bellied, hasty-witted harpies!” she yelled.
    “Don’t you mean hasty- zitted harpies?” I said, cracking up even more.
    “How long have you been out there? You guys heard every word I said, didn’t you?”
    “Scott Towel has zits!” said Joey. She lost it, giggling like it was the funniest thing ever.
    Joey’s giggling egged me on. “Oh, Sock Monkey. I adore you. I love you,” I said, imitating Alex. “You’re just an old sock, but you look just like my boyfriend, Scott Towel! Kiss, kiss, kiss.”
    “ Howell! It’s Scott Howell ! If you’re going to eavesdrop, get it right.” Alex narrowed her mean eyes at us. “I wish I never had a sister. That goes for BOTH of you.”
    For once, we knew to keep quiet.
    “And don’t think I forgot you stole my sweater, Stevie. My lucky sweater! Where is it? I mean it. You better give it back this minute. And Joey, don’t think I forgot you. You’re a dankish elf-skinned clodpole! No better than Stevie. If Mom was here, I’d —”
    “I am not an elf or whatever!” said Joey.
    “I hope you both turn to stone. Just like Beauty’s evil sisters in the fairy tale. I’d like you much better as statues — that’s for sure!”
    Joey looked at me like she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
    “Out, vile jelly!” Alex shouted. “A pox of wrinkles on thee!”
    She slammed the door in our faces without waiting to get her sweater back. Thonk! The door slamming knocked a picture off the wall in the hallway. A picture of Alex when she was a mushroom in Mushroom in the Rain, her kindergarten play. I wonder if she heard the thud from inside her room.
    “You’re still a mushroom!” I shouted, only because it sounded good. Silence. Was she still listening?
    “Nothing short of a miracle will turn a wicked and envious heart!” she shouted through the door, quoting her beloved Beauty.
    “You’re the big meanie,” Joey said. “Puke-face dung heap,” she yelled, trying to swear in Shakespeare.
    “Rrrrr! Sisters make me crazy,” yelled Alex.
    “Ditto!” I yelled back.
    “Double ditto!” yelled Joey, even though she doesn’t know what it means.
    We both sat on Joey’s bed (after moving about a hundred stuffed animals), staring at the mess that used to be Alex’s sweater.
    “Stevie?” Joey asked.
    “Not now, Duck. I have to think.”
    “About what?”
    “What to do about Alex, the sweater — everything.”
    “She was calling us evil Jell-O and stuff!”
    “That was just Shakespeare. She always spits out Shakespeare when she’s mad.”
    “She doesn’t even know you wrecked the sweater yet. She just thinks you stole it.”
    “Don’t tell, Duck! She’s going to kill me when she finds out,” I said. “Or at the very least, turn me into a zitty-faced stinkard!”
    “She’ll see.” Joey pointed to the mess of yarn on my bed that used to be Alex’s sweater. “It looks like a bird’s nest. What happened?”
    “I told you. The tag was itching me. So I cut it off. I do it all the time on my own stuff. All I did was pull this one thread, and next thing I knew the whole thing came undone,” I said.
    “Maybe we could sew it,” Joey suggested. “Mom could help us.”
    “How? She’s not even here.”
    “Maybe we could make it into something else.”
    “What? Like a Sweater Monkey?”
    “Like a scarf, or a pillow for her room.”
    “Hey, that’s a great idea, Duck. I think I can make a pillow with the star on the front. At least she’d have something. ”
    All afternoon, I tried to make a sweater pillow for