“You have got to be kidding me,” Bobby said.
Another thunderous crash shook the house.
“It’s still in the box,” Fox said.“Isn’t it?”
3
“Voting is a little extra,” I said.“Don’t you think?”
“We have to vote,” Millie said.“If we don’t vote, how will we ever know which one is THE BEST?”
“Yes,” I muttered as I worked a finger in my ear.“How will we ever know?”
Keme gave me a dark look.
“Don’t be so dramatic,” Fox said as they threw the end of their scarf over their shoulder.
“I’m sure everyone’s gingerbread house is lovely,” Indira said.
“Are you?”I said.“Because I think you know you’re a shoo-in.I heard youcacklingearlier.”
Indira didn’t do anything.But that lock of white, witchy hair seemed extra white.
“Uh,” I said.“Retracted.”
We all waited for a peal of thunder—or something.
After a few seconds, Bobby said, “Okay.Here we go.”
“We’ll go first,” Keme said.
“We will?”I said.
He gave me that look again—and, not so discreetly, showed me a fist—so I sighed, and we all moved into the billiard room.
Making gingerbread houses wasn’t a tradition for us.But Indira had insisted.Actually,insistedis too strong a word; she’d asked if we could do it, and because Indira never asks for anything—and because the rest of us simultaneously love her and are terrified of her—the answer had obviously been yes.
The competition and voting had been Fox’s idea.
You probably expected Millie and Keme to team up.That’s certainly what I expected, anyway.To my surprise, though, Millie had said she wanted to build her own.(You should have seen the look on Keme’s face.) And since I’d been complaining about how playing Xbox had given me early-onset arthritis of the, uh, knuckles, Bobby suggested Keme and I work together.
(Suggestedis a word that can mean so many things.)
As everyone took their places in the billiard room, Keme hopped up to sit on a windowsill, leaving me to present our masterpiece.
“What,” Fox said, “is that?”
“It’s—”
“Is it a shoebox?”Fox asked—apparently answering their own question.
“No, it’s not a—”
“Is it a loaf of bread?”More dubiously.“Gingerbread?”
“It’s not a loaf of bread.”Then inspiration struck.“It has wheels.”
“It’s very nice,” Indira said, echoing her comment from earlier—and, from the tone of it, regretting that choice of words.
