Broken Hearts, Fences and Other Things to Mend by Katie Finn

mean
    version of me— like in old TV shows, when someone’s evil twin
    showed up, usually wearing a goatee and an eye patch— could. So
    I started to think like a person who was the opposite of me, some-
    one who wouldn’t have a problem being mean on purpose.
    I knew fi rsthand from a summer of hanging out with Hallie
    how close she and her mom were. I had a pretty strong feeling
    that if Hallie was miserable, Karen would leave and take Hallie
    with her, and my dad could forget all about Karen and come back
    home.
    Since I wasn’t sleeping anyway, I turned on my light, pulled
    out my green notebook, and started to write down plans.
    I was going to make Hallie miserable.
    The fi rst idea I had involved Cooper, her crush. All the things
    Hallie had told me suddenly seemed less like friends sharing se-
    crets and more like ammunition that she’d easily handed me, never
    thinking I might use it against her.
    I knew that Cooper was obsessed with gummy candy— and with
    motorcycle stunts, though I couldn’t think how that would help
    me, so I stayed focused on the candy. I didn’t think that Cooper
    would be able to recognize Hallie’s handwriting, but just in case,
    a few days before I put this plan into action, I told her about
    handwriting analysis. For a while there, Bruce had been develop-
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    ing a movie called Love/Letters, about calligraphers in love. The
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    movie had fallen apart (even at eleven, this hadn’t surprised me)
    but there was all kinds of research still in Bruce’s offi ce. And one
    of them was a handwriting analysis that could predict character
    traits. I told Hallie about it, trying to make it sound enticing and
    really fun, and since she was game for almost anything, she agreed.
    We both wrote out Amazingly few discotheques provide juke-
    boxes, which was a sentence that contained every letter in the
    alphabet, and then examined our handwriting samples, compar-
    ing them to the charts in the book. I barely listened as Hallie
    read out what was predicted for both of us— she was logical and
    practical, I acted impulsively with little follow- through, we both
    were curious and open to the world around us— because I was
    mostly concerned with making sure I got ahold of Hallie’s paper
    when the analysis was done. And when she wandered off to the
    kitchen for a snack, I saw my opportunity, folded up her paper,
    and tucked it into my pocket.
    That night, I carefully traced Hallie’s letters onto a note.
    Cooper . . . meet me to night at sunset
    for a sweet treat!
    Then I let out a long breath. I was really going to do this.
    O O O
    “What’s this?” Cooper asked me when he’d read the note. I’d
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    told Hallie that I was going to video chat with my mom,
    0—
    and
    couldn’t hang out with her that morning. She had been
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    understanding— ever since she’d inadvertently dropped the dat-
    ing bombshell she’d been extra- nice to me. I had tracked Cooper
    down in the spot where I’d seen him riding— but mostly falling
    off— his skateboard.
    “It’s from Hallie,” I said, trying to sound casual about it. “She
    just got this huge bag of gummy candy and wanted to give it to
    you.”
    Cooper’s eyes lit up. “Really?” he asked. “That’s awesome.” Then
    he paused and frowned at me. “So why didn’t she just tell me?”
    “She’s running errands with her mom today, and wanted to
    make sure you found out as soon as possible. You know it’s better
    when it’s fresh.” I tried to sound blithe as I lied over and over
    again, glad that I’d practiced what I would say to these questions
    on the bike ride over.
    Cooper nodded thoughtfully. “That is true,” he said. “Okay. Cool.”
    “Write her back and tell her,” I said, thrusting a piece of paper
    and a