Two-one-five,I started dialing,three-two-one…
Crap.
What were the last four digits?
Something with two eights?
Come on,I thought, squeezing my eyes shut as if that would help.Come on!
And suddenly, they came to me. The eye-squeezing technique had worked.
I punched in the rest of the number, then waited. Three rings passed before I heard a click, and a little voice say, “Hello?”
Abigail Adler, Everett’s little sister.
“Abigail, hi,” I said, cautiously adding, “it’s James.”
“Yeah, I recognize your voice,” Everett’s sister said bluntly. I loved how direct she was. “I’ve known you since before I was born!”
I smiled. True.
“Why are you calling?” she asked.
“Why aren’t you in school?” I deflected.
Did the elementary school have off today?
“Because I’m sick,” Abigail informed me. “I had a really bad stomachache, so my mom just picked me up and brought me home. She’s in the kitchen making chicken noodle soup and getting me some ginger ale. I’m not usually allowed to have it, but she said it’ll make me feel better.”
“Yes, it will,” I said as I tried to figure out how to bring up Everett. “It always does.”
“Is Grace drinking ginger ale?” Abigail asked. “My mom says her stomach hurts, too.”
Of course,I thought,because word travels like light speed in The Moms’ group chat.
“I’m sure she is,” I told Abigail. “I poured her a big glass before I left for school.”
Abigail gasped. “You’re atschool?”
Shit.
“Everett says he’s not allowed to use his phone at school.”
“Well, I have a free period right now,” I lied. “So it’s okay for me to use it.”
“But Everett says he leaves his in his locker all day. He never uses it.”
I reached up to rub my eyes.Everett says this, Everett saysthat.
WherewasEverett?
I couldn’t outright ask; knowing Abigail, she would go straight to Mrs.Adler. In fact, I was one hundred percent expecting her to report that I’d called, but that wouldn’t be too difficult to explain to my parents.Oh, you had your important meetings today, so I didn’t want to distract you….
“Did someone take a picture of Everett?” Abigail blurted.
“Huh?” I asked.
“A picture,” she repeated. “My mom said he won the Phillies contest, and that the Phanatic picked him up from school. I want to see a picture.”
