“You think we’ll have a book club when we’re old, Rae?” I ask her.
“Gonna be hard fitting a book club in between all your tour dates.”
I shove my shoulder into hers.
Rae grins at me. “Did you send in your recording yet?”
“Not yet.”
“What are you waiting for?” Laney asks, up to speed on everything thanks to Mom, who dropped the subject of my musical prowess in between the dumplings and the Peking duck.
To say I was surprised would be the greatest understatement of the year.
“I’m waiting for Mom to sign the form.” I twist my straw in my juice box. “She said she would.”
“Oh my God! She did?” Rae all but screeches.
Grinning, I nod.
“Your recording for what?” Mel asks, dropping her lunch tray on our table.
Laney looks up from her pizza. “The Mona Stone contest.”
I flick my gaze to Ten’s table, where now sit Bolt and Archie. For someone who didn’t want to fit in, he’s fitting in. Which has me thinking about his boarding school application. He said he wouldn’t go, but it’s easy to say you won’t do something until you have the option to do it.
“I’m so happy for you, hon! Yay!” Rae’s still sort of screaming. “Hey. Totally unrelated question.”
I drain my juice box. “Yeah?”
“Are we too old to go trick-or-treating?”
I give a little snort. “Yes, but when has that stopped us?”
“Ilovetrick-or-treating,” Laney chirps.
Mel, who looks more tanned than when school started, asks, “Are you guys serious?”
“Deadly serious. Or is itdeathlyserious?” Laney asks.
“It’sdeadly,” Rae replies. “Deathly means cadaverous, grim.”
“Mel, do you realize how lucky we are? We have a future superstar and valedictorian at our lunch table,” Laney says.
“Who’s going to be valedictorian?” Jasper drops onto the chair next to Mel and nuzzles her neck, which makes her giggle.
I didn’t expect them to last.
Laney points across the table. “Rae, duh.”
Rae grins, but then tears her paper napkin into tiny particles. “Maybe not. Ron Wilkins is extremely smart.”
“Not as smart as you, Rae.” Laney pats her hand. “Hey, Angie, didn’t you say you would let us listen to your song?”
I glare at her for tossing me under the bus, which just makes her smile broaden, because she knows my glares are all bark and no bite.
“What song?” Jasper filches the pudding from Mel’s tray. “You’re not going to eat that, right?”
Mel shakes her head at the same time Laney says, “Angie’s entering the Mona Stone contest.”
