Tianna the Terrible (Anika Scott Series) by Karen Rispin

her away. Besides, we don't want to. The last thing Tianna needs is more rejection. I only hope you're mature enough to be a help to her, Anika. This isn't going to be easy for any of us, especially you."
    "What about school?" Sandy asked. "Are we still going today?"
    Mom and Daddy looked at each other for a minute. Finally Daddy said, "I don't see why not. We'll have to decide what to do about Tianna's schooling when she gets here, but I don't see why either of you should miss another day."
    "She wants to go to boarding school," I said slowly. The idea of having Tianna at Valley Christian Academy was gradually sinking in. I cringed inside.
    "We'll have to see about that," Mom said. "Now let's get cracking. We want to get you there in time for supper."
    Two hours later, Daddy drove down the hill toward my dorm. He was going to drop Sandy off last. I looked out the window anxiously. I could hardly wait to show Lisa my new Canadian clothes. Then I bit my lip. What if she already had other friends and didn't want me anymore? What about Muthoni and Amy? I'd kind of hung around with them last term. Would they remember me?
    The car stopped, and I got out and stretched. Cool upland air, filled with the smell of cedar, surrounded me. I breathed deeply, and suddenly I was really excited to be back.
    A bunch of kids came running out of the dorm. Lisa got to me first.
    "Anika! Anika!" she yelled, running at me. "Mrs. Jackson said you were coming," she grabbed my arm. "I traded beds so you can have the bunk under me."
    "How come y'all came back so soon?" Amy asked. Her parents are from Texas. Muthoni was right beside her. She had her hair done in these really neat cornrows.
    It seemed like everyone was talking at once, so I couldn't even answer. I grinned and headed into the dorm.
    Jackson dorm isn't really a dorm. It's a big house with two rooms at the back where all the fifth- and sixth-grade girls stay. Jacksons, the dorm parents, stay in the other end of the house.
    Daddy, Mom, and Sandy helped haul my junk in. Of course, Mom said she'd be praying for me like she always says whenever they drop me off. There were quick hugs, and Mom and Daddy went to take Sandy to her dorm.
    "Do you have any chow?" Amy asked.
    "Whoever wants chow has to help me unpack," I said, grinning.
    Chow is any food from home, and I had a whole batch of chocolate chip cookies.
    "Hey! cool," Lisa said. She was holding up the big T-shirt I'd bought with Tianna.
    It turned out that there weren't any drawers left for me. Sabrina Oats and Esther Miller had snitched the ones I was supposed to have.
    "Come on, you guys. Get your junk out," I said.
    "First come, first served," sneered Sabrina. She always was trouble for me.
    "Don't be such jerks," Lisa said.
    "Look who's talking," Esther said. "Little Miss Cool from California. You've got an extra drawer. Give her yours."
    "Mrs. Jackson gave me that drawer," Lisa said. "Anika is supposed to have these drawers, and you know it."
    I got mad and my cheeks got hot. It was like all my nervousness about being back at school and about Tianna rolled up and aimed itself at this hassle. Suddenly arguing seemed really stupid. I stamped over, jerked the first drawer out, and turned it over with a crash. My hands were shaking. I was just yanking the other drawer out when I realized the room had gone dead silent.
    "Anika," a voice said from the door, "that wasn't necessary." It was Mrs. Jackson.
    "But they wouldn't move their stuff," I blurted.
    "I've had to speak to you about your temper before," she said, shaking her finger at me. "Apologize!"
    "Sorry," I muttered.
    "Now, who had things in the drawers I assigned to Anika?" she asked.
    Nobody said a word.
    She reached down, picked up a notebook, and read the name on the cover.
    "Sabrina Oats, get your things back into your own space," she said. Then she turned to look at me. "Anika, I came in to welcome you back only to find you in a temper tantrum. You certainly don't make things