A Snitch in the Snob Squad by Julie Anne Peters

mother.
    Leaving Dr. Beals in the dust, we hauled you-know-what down the mall. “You’re not really quitting school, are you?” Lydia
     asked Max.
    “Maybe,” Max mumbled.
    “Have you really been living at the bus station?” I said. “With the homeless people?”
    “Huh?” Max curled a lip at me.
    “Can I tell them?” Prairie said.
    Max shrugged. “I guess.”
    “She’s b-been staying with me. Her mom knows and everything.”
    “Thank God.” Lydia slapped her chest.
    “So, what happened with the cops?” I asked.
    Max replied, “I’ll tell you later. Where’s Kruppsbutt and Melon-head?” We’d stopped and gathered ’round the wiener wagon.
    “They were heading toward Dillard’s,” I said.
    “What’s the plan?” Lydia asked.
    Why does she always ask me? Oh, yeah. I’m supposed to be the leader.
    Max said, “It’s obvious, isn’t it?” She looked at Lydia like she was a helium head. To me, she said, “Prayer thought we could
     use these.” She shoved her hands into her extra-large pockets and pulled out four plastic cases.
    As she passed them out, I cried, “Brilliant, Prairie!”
    Prairie blushed. “My brothers got them for Christmas.”
    “What are they?” Lydia asked, examining her black box.
    Prairie answered, “Walkie-t-talkies.”
    A slow smile spread across Lydia’s lips. “I get it. For spying. Sweet.”
    Prairie added, “They might need batteries.”
    I pressed the Talk button. “Breaker, breaker,” I said into the microphone. “This is Sumo Sal calling any ears on in the SS.
     What’s yer flying orders, good buddies?”
    Max’s eyes widened. “You know CB?”
    “My uncle Ralph was a trucker. About six jobs ago. He taught me.”
    “Cool,” Max breathed. I felt a new reverence all around. “Teach me to say, ‘Roger, Charlie. Over and out.’ ”
    I pressed my Talk button. “Roger, Charlie. Over and out.”
    Max gave me her death look.
    “Or you could say, ‘To ya, buddy. On the flip-flop.’ ”
    Prairie giggled. She pressed her button and said, “On the f-flip-flop.” It echoed out into the mall.
    Lydia tried her walkie-talkie. Nothing happened. “Mine’s dead,” she said.
    Max tested hers. It was dead, too. “First stop,” I told them, “is the Walgreens for batteries.”
    On the way I informed them that we needed to make up handles. “You know, code names. Like Seat to the Saddle; that was Uncle
     Ralph’s. Or Lady Lead Foot. That was his girlfriend’s.”
    “Cool.” Max shook her head. “This is so cool.”
    Sometimes I loved being the leader. When we got to the cashier to pay for the batteries, Lydia said, “I didn’t bring any money.
     Did you?”
    Max and Prairie dug into their pockets. They had about thirty cents between them. “I’ll get it,” I said, even though I was
     planning to spend that twenty on replenishing my stash of candy. With low-fat granola bars, of course. “I’m rich today.”
    A knowing look passed between Max and Prairie. I didn’t know what it knew. “What?” I asked.
    Prairie lowered her eyes. “Nothing,” she said.
    I shrugged it off. Weirdness ran rampant in this group.
    As we loaded the batteries and headed down to Dillard’s, I taught everyone a few phrases in CB talk and we tried out our new
     handles. “Breaker, breaker,” I said to my box. “This is Sumo Sal, coming in on the south side. Anyone got their ears on? Over.”
    “That’s a five five,” Max said. “What’s yer flying orders, Sumo?”
    “Spy in the sky.” I covered my mike. “That means a helicopter cop, but it could mean just a spy, too. Puttin’ the kill on
     the Krupps. Reckon to turn her over to the big hats.” Which means catching Ashley in the act and letting the authorities know,
     loosely translated.
    Lydia pressed her Talk button. “Carmen SanDiego here,” she said. “Over.”
    We all looked at her.
    “What? She’s the only spy I know.”
    Prairie signed on. “This is Double O T-Trouble. Here’s pie in your