It's Only Temporary (17 page)

“Sorry about your brother,” Pip mumbled, looking embarrassed.

“Yeah,” Matteo said, eyeing the bowl of chips. “That's gotta suck.”

“Scott's better than he was last summer,” Skye assured them. “And it's funny,” she continued, “but he and I are a lot closer since I've been living far away. Closer than we've been since we were little kids.”

“Well, that's good, I guess,” Jamila said. “But getting back to those drawings – what did the one of me look like?”

“You looked good, naturally,” Amanda said, sounding a little bitter. “But Skye made
me
look like a – “

“I'm sorry,” Skye said again. She looked at Maddy, to include her in the apology, but Maddy was staring down at Gran's rug as if she were inspecting it for dust mites.

“So where are they?” Jamila interrupted, looking around the living room.

“They got thrown out,” Skye told her, mourning her lost drawings only a little. “By one of the committee moms.”

“This isn't over, though,” Pip said, frowning. “Because those guys still have your sketchbook.”

“But they don't,” Skye told everyone eagerly. “I got it back! Someone gave it to me this morning.”

“Who?” Jamila asked. “One of the grown-ups at the dance?”

“Who cares who it was?” Matteo said, helping himself
to a handful of chips. “This whole thing
is
over, if you've got the sketchbook back. So let's eat!”

“Maddy?” Skye asked quietly, as the other kids swarmed over Gran's assorted snacks and jabbered excitedly about Friday night. “Are we okay?”

“I feel fine, thank you,” Maddy said, misunderstanding Skye's question.

“Then why won't you look at me?” Skye asked.

“Because I don't want to,” Maddy said, still studying the rug. “You made a joke out of me in front of everyone, and I thought you were my real, true friend.”

“I didn't make a joke out of you,” Skye tried to explain. “I drew a cartoon of you when I moved here last summer, before I even really got to know you. I drew crazy pictures of
everyone
, Maddy! I never meant for anyone else to see them, though.”

“But I don't get it,” Maddy said, frowning in concentration. “How is a mean picture supposed to be funny? I would never do something like that to you, Skye.”

“Maybe you're nicer than I am,” Skye replied, meaning every word. “And anyway,” she continued, “the pictures I drew were just supposed to be funny to
me
. My sketchbook was like my diary, Maddy. But I'm very, very sorry if I hurt your feelings. I just – like I said before, I was feeling really bad when I had to move here.”

“Feeling bad from keeping so many secrets?” Maddy asked, finally looking at Skye. “Like about having a brother, and about being an artist?”

“I guess,” Skye said. “I kind of liked having a few secrets,” she added, surprised by her own admission. “But that's private, okay? Just between you and me.”

“
Another
secret?” a startled Maddy asked.

“But this is the good kind,” Skye assured her. “It's the kind of secret friends share.”

“Because we
are
friends, right?” Maddy asked, obviously trying to get things straight. “Real, true friends? If I forgive you?”

“Mm-hmm,” Skye said, nodding.

Maddy thought – for what seemed to Skye like a long, long time. “Then I forgive you, Skye,” she finally said. “Because anyone can make a mistake. But I'm probably missing the meerkats this very minute, so maybe I'd better go home.”

“I'll ask Gran to turn on the TV, okay?” Skye said. “That way, you can watch the meerkats here, Maddy. Because I really want you to stay.”

“Okay,” Maddy said, smiling. “Go ask!”

“Front and center, art activities kids,” a grim-looking Ms. O'Hare said a few minutes after art class began on Monday and the students had gotten to work on their torn paper collages. “Gather around my desk, if you please.”

Skye, Amanda, Jamila, Matteo, and Pip shot each other brief, panicky glances, then sidled up to their teacher's desk. Ms. O'Hare pulled a cardboard file out of her gingham-lined tote, opened it, and placed the Homecoming newspaper insert square, on her desk. “So,” she said, and then she waited, as if the other kids in class – industriously snipping and gluing, and pretending not to listen – didn't know exactly what was happening.

Silent, Skye and the other art activities kids stared down at the insert as if hypnotized; Skye's four drawings seemed to jump off the page.

“We'll gather after school for a short meeting, people,” Ms. O'Hare told them. “No excuses. And that includes Maddy, Skye. You can round her up.”

“But I have gymnastics,” Matteo argued feebly.

“And I have track,” Jamila chimed in.

“After school, and no excuses,” Ms. O'Hare said again,
sounding more like a scary principal than an art teacher, in Skye's opinion. “This was a group effort, and you'll face the consequences as a group.”

“You really let me down,” Ms. O'Hare said when everyone assembled after classes had ended for the day – everyone, including the still-grumbling Matteo and Jamila and Maddy, who, though terror-stricken, had quietly told Skye she would share the blame, if that would help.

“That's what friends are for,” Maddy solemnly said.

“This – this
escapade
really makes me look bad, do you realize that?” Ms. O'Hare told her art activities kids. “It makes it seem as though I don't know what's going on in my own class! And the art department is on thin ice around here already.”

The art activities kids shifted back and forth, scared that one of them was going to say something about what they'd done, or about why they wanted to get revenge – or
that no one would say anything. Skye didn't know which would be worse.

“Now, I know whose drawings these are,” Ms. O'Hare continued gravely. “I recognize the line. But I'd like that person to step forward and take full responsibility.”

Jamila scowled. “I wasn't even at the dance, so it's not me,” she objected, though that wouldn't clear her at all if she were the guilty one, Skye thought, working it out.

“I was at the dance,” Amanda admitted. “But I didn't have any fun, if that counts.”

Frozen where she stood, Skye suddenly heard the sound of her beating heart echo in her ears. Did this mean she was about to faint? She cleared her throat. “I – “

“It was all of us,” Pip interrupted, his voice surprisingly firm. “Even Jamila and Amanda. We all thought up the idea. We just talked Skye into doing the drawings, that's all. She didn't know any better, 'cause she's new here. She's like a foreign-exchange student, practically.”

“I am not,” Skye objected hotly. “I'm from New Mexico, in the U.S.A. It's just two states over!
Geez
.”

“It was our forty-seventh state,” loyal Maddy confirmed. “And it has been, ever since 1912.”

“What on earth made you do such a thing, Skye?” Ms. O'Hare asked her, ignoring the history lesson.

A dozen thoughts chased each other around inside Skye's head, because – how could she explain? That she was getting even with those football guys for “colliding” with Maddy that first day, for trying to hurt Amanda's feelings, and for kicking Pip? Or that she was getting even with Melissa and Taylor, too, for all their snotty comments? And that she wanted to get even with any mean person in the future who might tease or torment Maddy or Scott – or anyone else with anything wrong with them?