Odd Girl In by Jo Whittemore

too?”
    â€œUh, because I can’t cook,” I said. “And because we’re supposed to be practicing teamwork , remember?”
    Emily crossed her arms and gave me a condescending smirk. “Oh, Alexis, don’t you see? We are. We’re working together to get twice as much accomplished.”
    I shook my head. “Unbelievable.”
    Clever Trevor sensed the girl trouble brewing and jumped in to help. “I can go between the two of you,” he said, turning to me. “When I’m done helping Emily with a step, I can go over it with Alex.”
    Emily’s smirk flattened, but Trevor couldn’t see it with his back to her.
    â€œThat’s okay,” I said. “I’ll try doing it on my own.”
    Emily flashed me a grateful smile and took Trevor’s arm. “Let’s get started.”
    â€œUh, okay,” he said, giving me a shrug.
    As it turned out, cooking wasn’t hard.
    It was impossible.
    The recipe instructed me to sift flour. When I asked Emily what sifting was, she wordlessly pointed to a huge silver cup with a crank on one side, and then went back to mooning over Trevor. I poured flour into the cup, and began turning the handle while I wandered over to watch them work. What I didn’t realize was that there were holes in the bottom of the sifter for the flour to drain through.
    When I looked into my cup to check the progress, it was completely empty, and my shoes, pant legs, and half of the kitchen were coated like a winter wonderland.
    â€œCrud,” I mumbled.
    Trevor and Emily glanced at me, then down at my floury path.
    â€œI was just making a trail back to my bowl,” I said. “In case I got lost.”
    Trevor smiled. “At least we won’t stick to the floor.”
    Emily rolled her eyes.
    I gave up on sifting and dumped flour directly into the bowl, mixing it with the other ingredients. Then I checked the recipe again, which said to coat the baking pan with grease.
    â€œWhy?” I mumbled, flipping the pan upside down. “Hey guys, the instructions say to grease …”
    Emily thrust a canister of shortening at me. “Here.”
    â€œOkay, but …” She turned back to Trevor before I could finish.
    Making a face, I reached into the container for a giant glob of fat. I supposed that coating the outside of the pan with grease kept the cake from baking too fast or something. Just to make sure, I slathered it on extra thick and flipped the pan back over to pour in the batter. After sliding the cake into the oven, I joined Trevor and Emily.
    â€œYou guys need help?” I asked. “I’m pretty good with grease.” I spun the shortening can on my index finger.
    Trevor laughed and Emily took the container from me.
    â€œWe’re doing fine, thanks .” She smiled and nodded toward the back patio. “Why don’t you wait outside?”
    â€œYeah, we’re almost done here,” said Trevor, sidling up beside her.
    So much for teamwork. Without another word, I plodded outside and flopped onto a lawn chair.
    A few minutes later, the sliding glass door opened.
    â€œAlexis?” said Emily. “Are you upset or something?”
    I squinted at her. “Where’s Trevor? Shouldn’t you be attached to his hip?”
    â€œYou are upset.” Emily stepped closer. “Why? You didn’t even want to be here.”
    â€œYeah, but if I have to be here, I don’t want to be excluded,” I said. “I like Trevor too, you know.”
    Emily gasped, and I rolled my eyes.
    â€œAs a friend . I like having someone to bond with.”
    â€œYou can bond with me,” she said.
    I sighed. “No, I can’t. When you’re not flirting with him, you’re kissing up to a teacher…. Or worse, Ms. Success.”
    Emily crossed her arms. “Sharon and I have a healthy mother-daughter relationship. Something you wouldn’t know anything