Nobody's Perfect by Marlee Matlin Page A

boxes!”
    â€œBut won’t that take too many?”
    â€œNot really,” said Alexis. She sketched a design on scratch paper to demonstrate how they could build the whole thing with interlocking shoe boxes. Megan offered suggestions as to where the different-colored rooms should go. They agreed that it was no fair putting hamster food in the purple room because that would give purple an unfair advantage over red and blue, the colors they had chosen for the other two rooms. However, they did think it was a good idea to put a little hamster food at different corners of the maze so that Zippity had some reason to travel from one end of the maze to the other.
    Megan did a rough calculation and guessed that eight shoeboxes would do the job. Alexis knew her mom had sharp sewing scissors they could use to cut the interlocking slots and hamster-size doorways in the shoe boxes. Megan knew her father had thick masking tape in the garage that they could use to hold the shoe boxes together. Megan, of course, had purple paint, and Alexis was pretty sure that she had red and blue.
    â€œSo we’re all set,” said Alexis.
    â€œWait,” said Megan. “What about shoe boxes? Eight shoe boxes! Will we have enough?”
    â€œEight is a lot of shoe boxes,” said Alexis.
    â€œThat’s why I brought it up,” said Megan.
    That October, when Megan had been required to do a diorama of colonial days for class, she had put the project off until the last possible minute and, naturally, couldn’t find a single usable shoe box in the entire house. She only managed to score a decent-size box for her witch-burning tableau because she convinced her mother to hit the mall for a new pair of high heels. Megan couldn’t imagine that she’d be able to convince her mom to buy eight new pairs of shoes so they could build their hamster maze that night.
    â€œI have a brother,” Alexis said shyly, looking in the other direction so that Megan wasn’t sure what to make of the comment.
    â€œYeah,” said Megan. “That little kid. I met him at the store.”
    â€œHe likes sneakers, but he grows through them,” said Alexis.
    â€œBrothers are like that,” said Megan.
    â€œBut he never gets rid of his old sneakers,” Alexis continued, “and he never gets rid of the boxes .”
    Megan nodded slowly, catching on to the point that Alexis was making. “ Fee-fi-fo-fum ,” said Megan, “I smell shoe boxes.”
    â€œThat’s what I’m thinking,” said Alexis.
    â€œBut your kid brother is still little,” Megan observed. “Won’t those boxes be too small?”
    â€œBig enough for a hamster, maybe,” said Alexis.
    Megan had to agree. “But you know what?” Megan continued. “My brother is the exact same way. He doesn’t like me in his room, but I bet he’s got every pair of sneakers he ever owned—still in the box, still in his closet.”
    â€œFour shoe boxes from you, four shoe boxes from me?” asked Alexis.
    â€œDeal,” said Megan. “That should do it. I’ll go home and get my brother’s boxes and meet you at your house.”
    Alexis flinched. “Actually,” she said, “it’s not such a good idea to meet at my house.”
    â€œBut my house is crazy,” Megan responded. “Everything is turned upside down because we’re in the middle of preparations for my birthday party.” Megan caught herself at the mention of her own party—the very same party that Alexis had already announced her intention not to attend. But Alexis didn’t seem to notice the remark at all.
    â€œNo, no,” said Alexis. “That’s okay. Your house is a much better idea.”
    â€œAre you sure your house wouldn’t be easier?” Megan insisted.
    â€œNo, really,” said Alexis. “Besides, I want to see your house.”
    Megan smiled. She was happy to