When Zachary Beaver Came to Town by Kimberly Willis Holt Page A

at the head of her bed. It was the last day of school. I should have written something great like Peace or Stay cool. But I signed, See you next year, Toby Wilson .
    I walk over to her dresser and pick up a cologne bottle. Wind Song. My hands shake, but I remove the cap anyway and smell it. The smell is faint, so I spray a little on my hand and take a close sniff.
    â€œUmmm!” Tara stands in the doorway, the plant
pot gone from her head. “Scarlett, Toby’s spraying your perfume!”
    I put down the bottle, grab the radio off her dresser, and head out. My face burns, and I know the scent gives me away.
    Scarlett drops pasta in the water while I wipe my hand on my jeans.
    With hands on her hips, Tara says, “Toby tried your perfume.”
    Shaking my head, I talk fast. “I knocked the bottle over when I grabbed the radio. Then the top fell off and I put it back.”
    â€œNa-ah!” Tara says. “You sprayed on some perfume!”
    â€œOh, Tara,” Scarlett says. “Scram.”
    The phone rings and Scarlett lunges for it, picking up the receiver before it finishes the first ring. There’s no denying it. This girl has answered many phone calls.
    â€œWhat do you want?” she says into the phone. “It’s Juan,” she mouths.
    Tara pulls at my shirt. “I want to see him again.”
    Ignoring Tara, I try to hear Scarlett’s every word and not look interested. I watch the pot of water boil.

    Scarlett sighs. “I don’t want to talk to you.” She sounds cold, almost mean, but I’m thinking, Yeah, cool, she doesn’t want to talk to you.
    Tara tugs at my shirt again. “I want to see him !”
    â€œI have company,” Scarlett tells Juan.
    Yeah, Juan, I think, go lick your wounds. She’s got a new man.
    â€œWho?” Scarlett glances my way.
    I swallow.
    â€œToby Wilson.”
    Why did she have to say that? My stomach dribbles like a basketball. I see Juan towering over me with his number-five iron. I should have sent off for that Atlas Body Building course.
    â€œDon’t call back.” Scarlett hangs up the phone. She bites her lower lip and tears fill her eyes.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?” I ask, reaching for her arm.
    But Scarlett steps away from my touch, shakes her head, fumbles through a drawer, and grabs a can opener. “Nothing.”
    It doesn’t matter. I already know. It’s the words she’s etched all over her notebooks since fifth grade— Scarlett Stalling loves Juan Garcia .
    Tara stomps her feet. “I WANT TO SEE THE FAT MAN AGAIN!”

    â€œTara, stop screaming!” yells Scarlett. She sighs, and her voice softens. “Toby, would you mind?”
    â€œNo,” I lie. “Not at all.” I leave the girl of my dreams in the kitchen, pining over some other guy, while I take her possessed sister to see Zachary Beaver. Loser is my middle name.

Chapter Eleven
    The foil is missing from the pan of German chocolate cake and flies swarm around the icing. I hunt around for the foil, thinking maybe it flew off in a gust of wind. Something shimmers on Tara’s wrist—a bracelet made of aluminum foil. She sees me looking and quickly hides her arm behind her back.
    I snap. “You took the foil!”
    â€œWe need to be shiny. Shiners are suppose to be shiny.”
    It’s no use now. I pick up the cake, inspect it for damage, and decide it looks okay. Except for the flies. I swat them away, but not before they land on the sweet icing and rub their legs together, celebrating their good luck.
    â€œI’m surprised you didn’t eat the cake.”
    Tara frowns and plants her hands on her hips. Her
fingernails wear chips of the same red as Scarlett’s toenails. “My momma says it’s not nice to steal!”
    Cal’s bike is parked in front of Zachary’s trailer. I’m wondering why he didn’t tell me he was coming here, then suddenly I