The Graham Cracker Plot by Shelley Tougas Page A

fixed?” I asked.
    â€œNo. I can’t.” Ashley got back on her knees and hugged the beast. “I’m not helping someone who’s mean to my dog and mean to my cousin. You have to defend your friends, Daisy. Don’t you know that? I’m taking Fred upstairs until you’re ready to say you’re sorry.” She shook the Beefy Bits bag and “Fred” pranced after her, barking like a maniac for his treat.
    I crossed my arms. “She’s the worst partner ever!”
    Graham turned to me and said, “Her head is messed up, and it won’t ever heal right. You are mean, Daisy Bauer.”
    I leaned forward and yelled at him, “Am not! You are mean. You pull my hair!”
    â€œYou’d suck the nice out of a puppy!”
    Now that was a good line, and my mouth wanted to fire back, but I couldn’t think of anything equal, except “You’d suck the nice out of a kitten,” and that would be the stupidest thing to say. Ever.
    Then my brain came up with words, and they shot out my mouth. “If I’m so mean how come I have friends and you don’t have any!”
    Right away I wanted to take it back. I wished I had a net to catch those words before they got to his ears.
    Graham’s eyes flashed sad and mad but mostly mad. His hands curled into fists, and I thought he wanted to hit me. I dashed to the dining room, to the other side of the table. He followed and in seconds we were circling the table. Tigers ready to pounce.
    I tried some different words, words to help forget the other words. “If I’m so mean, what are you doing here? Why are you going to Club Fed?”
    â€œI’m a friend helping a friend helping her dad.” He said friend like he meant turd . “You don’t know what friend means. You’re clueless.”
    â€œI’m not clueless!”
    â€œFree of clues. That’s what you are.”
    â€œStop it right now, Graham Cracker!”
    â€œOr what? You’ll watch Jesse push me? You’ll ignore me at lunch? You’ll pretend you don’t hear Alice call me ‘spaz boy’?”
    Judge Henry, I wish I could tell you Graham was a whiner and a fake. But I’d done all those things. When you asked me if I had any shame, I tell you, cross my heart and hope to die, my shame then and there almost burst my body into flames.
    Graham stared at me. I bit my lip and looked at the floor. The quiet made me burn even hotter.
    I said, “We have to find that coin.”
    Graham’s voice was growly. “Move.”
    So I moved. He sat on the kitchen floor and inspected the bottom of the refrigerator, poking and pulling at cords and coils. His fingers came out covered with grease and spiderwebs.
    I knelt beside him. “Nothing?”
    â€œYou sure it went under the refrigerator?”
    â€œI’m sure! Two hundred percent!” I poked and pulled in all the places he’d just poked and pulled.
    Graham kicked the refrigerator. “Now what?”
    Tears trickled down the front of my granny gown. I ran past the tipped-on-the-door refrigerator, through the dining room, and out the front door. I ran. I ran across the driveway, across the grass, and into the old barn. The door opened with a creak and slammed behind me.

 
    DEAR JUDGE HENRY,
    Alone in the barn I couldn’t hear anything but my sniffles and the blop blop blop of rain hitting the roof. I hate crying in front of people, except for my mom, who’s good at back rubs. I wiped my eyes and nose on the floppy pink granny gown. My feet were wet and cold.
    The barn was full of stink and junk—yard junk and farm junk and Fred stink. In the corner, right next to the door, were some smelly old pillows, huge bowls of water, and dog food. Fred’s little home. I curled up on the pillow.
    I’d ruined everything. The Idea Coin was lost, and we weren’t going far without it. If fed-mates can’t figure out how