The Sleepover (13 page)

Veronica looks very smug. “Booked her through www.hypnotismrocks.com.”

I sigh and turn again to Jake, who's swinging slowly back and forth. My stomach flutters and flops like there's a small gymnast practicing for the Olympics inside it. But I force the words out, avoiding his eyes. “I don't know how hypnosis works, but we're kind of freaking out.”

Jake stops his swinging using his left toe. “Whoa. Well, you guys
were
acting a little crazy last night. I mean, I know I didn't know you very well before, but I kind of had the impression you aren't all wackadoodle normally. You kept talking about how you had to do epic things until you couldn't stay awake anymore. And let's just say you had some pretty outrageous ideas—even by my standards.”

Paige answers, “Yeah, well, now there's a big blank in our brains from the time we closed our eyes for Madame Mesmer until the time we woke up this morning. And Anna Marie is missing and we need to find her. You're our only hope at this point. Can you help us retrace our steps?”

“Anna Marie is missing?” Jake says, jumping up from the swing. “Why didn't you start with that?”

All three of us look guilty. Why
hadn't
we started with that? Darn Jake Ribano and his distracting cuteness.

Paige holds up her hand. “To clarify, she's not missing anymore. We just don't have her. Or know where she is, technically. But we know
who
has her.”

“What? Who?” Jake looks like he doesn't know how much to believe from three girls who arrived on his porch spewing crazy talk. “Are you saying she was kidnapped or something?”

He drags his fingers through his hair, which somehow only makes it look more perfect. I have to force myself to look away.
Focus, Meghan. Your best friend is being held by a psychotic marching band.
Well, maybe not psychotic, exactly, but who knows what those guys are capable of? They seem
really
attached to their Hedgie.

“Sort of,” Paige says. “So, you know how we all stole that hedgehog float last night? And yes, we know about that. We don't remember doing it, but we did see a video, and we know you were with us. Well, the band kids who built the float have Anna Marie, and they said if we don't bring the hedgehog to them at the Dunkin' Donuts on Parker by ten a.m., we're not getting her back. Although, obviously, we're getting her back because it's not like they can
keep
her. But we'd kind of like to have her safe and sound before any parents need to get involved. Plus, it's Anna Marie's birthday, and who knows
what horrible place they're keeping her or what they're feeding her or—”

“Stop!” Jake shouts, and his voice is edgy enough that I'm instantly reminded who we're dealing with. Jake didn't come by his reputation by whispering gently. When Paige stops speaking, his expression goes back to normal. “So now you need to bring the float to Dunkin' Donuts?”

“Yeah, so if you have any bright ideas of where we could find it in the next”—Paige pauses and consults the clock on her phone—“seventeen minutes, that would be great.”

Jake grins, and I have to suck in another breath over how cute he is when he does that. I hadn't seen him do too much grinning before today.

“I can do even better!” he says.

J
ake doesn't wait for us to follow this time as he takes off up his driveway to the freestanding garage at the end of it. The outside walls are peeling, and the window has a crack running through the center of it. The double doors don't quite match up; the left one hangs lower than the right. Jake pulls a pen from the pocket of his corduroys, snaps off the metal tab, and sticks it into the lock.

A few seconds later it pops open. Paige and I stare at him, but Veronica says, “Cool.”

Jake shrugs. “We lost the key. Been after my dad to get a new lock, but he keeps forgetting.”

Sure, lock picking
would
be a skill of Jake Ribano's.
I take a step back. It's a perfect reminder that Jake has a reputation, and I'm not exactly in the habit of hanging out with guys who have reputations, no matter how nice they seem or how cute their hair looks when it's rumpled or how they keep stealing
glances at me and making my spine tickle in a weird way. Okay, to be fair, I'm not exactly in the habit of hanging out with any guys, but still.

Jake pries the doors open, flings them wide, and says, “Ta-da!”

Standing at attention in the front of the garage, shaking his fist at us, is one not-so-menacing-looking hedgehog on top of a rolling platform. Up close it looks a little (okay, a lot) rough. There are places where the metal frame shows through the papier-mâché, and the paint job is . . . not the best. Still, it's pretty cute. Not intimidating (or havocking) at all. But cute.

“Hedgie!” Veronica shouts, running up and throwing her arms around it. “He's so sweet!”

I smile shyly at Jake, who returns my grin with a smile of his own. Whoa. Just whoa. As he does, though, I suddenly remember something I'd managed to forget briefly.

I have one eyebrow. Jake Ribano is seeing me with
one
eyebrow!

I want to dissolve into a puddle under Hedgie's wheels. I quickly head to the back of the float to get out of sight. This is not my life. It can't be. No one is this tragic.

“How are we going to get it to the Dunkin' Donuts?” Paige asks, stepping close and pulling on the handle at the front of the float. Hedge is mounted on a small rolling platform, but
he must not be all that light. She doesn't budge him so much as one inch. She steps back and places both hands on her hips.

Jake laughs, but in a friendly way.

“Same way we got it here,” he says. “We walk it together. Or roll it, I guess. It won't be so bad with all of us helping, once we get it going. We did it last night.”

Veronica puts her Mickey Mouse watch right up next to her face and studies it. “We have eleven minutes, peeps.”

Peeps?
I roll my eyes, because I know she can't see me. In fact, I'm hoping no one can back here in the shadows as I absently rub the smooth patch of skin above my eye.

Jake looks around the garage, taking in the contents. “I have an idea.”

He tugs a silver-edged black skateboard covered in skull-and-crossbones decals off the wall where it hangs and flips it onto the ground. He steps on the board, bouncing a little to test it, before hopping off.

“I have two old motocross bikes in here too. If we can get one person riding along each side of the float to keep it from tipping over, we should be good.”

Jake Ribano is fearless. I can't help but be impressed. Before this sleepover, I couldn't even go a whole night away from my own bed, and I can't even be
that
proud I managed to accomplish it last night because I don't even
remember doing it
! I can't imagine being as free-spirited as he is. While I'm
busy listing all his pros in my head, Jake disappears farther into the garage to hunt down the bikes.

Paige stands next to Veronica.

“Doesn't sound like there are enough bikes for all three of us. How would you feel about heading back to Anna Marie's to run interference in case Mrs. Guerrero comes down?” Paige asks her.

Veronica nods, a very serious expression on her face. “That's probably a wise decision for me. I didn't pack my custom-painted Thor bike helmet, and I don't ride anywhere without it, so . . .”

“Oh, okay. Um, so our plan makes sense then.” Paige avoids my eyes, and I know it's because she's afraid she'll laugh if she doesn't. Veronica is definitely one of a kind. But mostly harmless and even a little fun. In fact, odd as she is, she's starting to grow on me.

Jake wheels the bikes out, then returns with three black helmets tucked under his arms. Veronica holds her hands up and shakes her head, so he tosses one to Paige and then approaches me with the other.

“Here, let me,” he says, stepping close and gently placing it on my head. I might hyperventilate. Why is he doing this for me but not for Paige? He looks me straight in the eyes (oh God, is my lack of eyebrow even worse up close?) as he fastens the buckle under my chin.

Can't. Breathe. Send. Medic.

What is going on here? Why is he being so nice to me? We've never even spoken before last night, and he usually keeps completely to himself at school. But this version of Jake Ribano is smiling and . . . and
sweet
.

I have to say it again: Of all the weird things this morning, this just might be the weirdest. And that's saying a lot, considering that a havocking hedgehog, seventeen ducklings, and a blackmailing marching band are on the same list.

Before I can really take in the moment, Jake has fastened my helmet and is stepping away, putting the third one onto his own head. Then he unties his sweatshirt and instead ties the rope attached to the front of Hedgie around his waist. He hops easily onto the skateboard and turns to look back at us.

“Catch,” he says, tossing me the hoodie I'd returned to him not ten minutes ago. “Um, it's, uh, it's kind of cool out,” he adds with a casual shrug. “Ready?”

“Have fun, guys!” Veronica says, waving.

I slip into the sweatshirt again and swing one leg over the seat. I've never ridden a dirt bike. It's so much shorter than my ten-speed. Will it ride differently too? The last thing I need is to wipe out in front of Jake Ribano. At least the helmet covers my missing eyebrow, but I still don't want to draw any extra attention to myself. Especially not by being a klutz. I think I might be scared.

With one foot on the ground, I raise the other pedal and set my foot in place, ready to push off.
Be brave, be brave, be brave,
I repeat in my head, but it only works slightly better at calming me than the counting I did this morning.

Still, what choice do I have, really?
Do it for Anna Marie.
That's it. That's perfect inspiration. I picture Anna Marie, waiting for us behind the Dunkin' Donuts. I bet she's biting her cuticles. She always does that when she's nervous. I imagine her face breaking out into a smile when she sees us ride up with Hedgie. Yup, that's the image I need in my head right now. Perfect.

I can't see Paige on the other side of me because of the giant hedgehog between us, so I rely on Jake for the signal. When he gives one, I quickly shove my foot down and balance on the short bike. My knees are practically at my chin, but I'm relieved it isn't
that
different from riding my own. Except that the hedgehog doesn't move at first, and I'm worried I'm going to crash into Jake's back. But Veronica must push from behind at the last second because the platform suddenly rolls over the bump between the garage and driveway, wobbles a bit, and then straightens before propelling down the driveway.

I have to pedal hard to keep up. I steal a glance behind me and spot Veronica waving as we speed into the street.

I stare hard at the asphalt as we pass Anna Marie's house, kind of like a little kid who thinks covering her own eyes
means no one else can see her during hide-and-seek. But I really cannot begin to contemplate the thought that after everything we're going through, Mrs. Guerrero might be near any windows at the exact moment a giant parade float being pulled by a boy on a skateboard and guarded by two girls on BMX bikes (two girls who are supposed to be safely asleep in her basement) flies by her house.

Nothing anyone can do about it now anyway. We're going too fast to stop, and already we're making the widest turn possible onto Crestmont and pulling out of sight. In the worst-case scenario, if she
had
seen us, Veronica could come up with some kind of cover story and, once we get back—
with
Anna Maria—we can figure something out. As long as we have her, none of the rest matters.

I breathe in the wind rushing at my face and, without meaning to, I giggle. Okay, so in no universe could I ever have imagined
this
would be my morning, but now that I know we're
this close
to having Anna Marie back, safe and sound, I have to admit it's exactly the kind of fun I'd hoped to have at the sleepover. Well, maybe not
exactly
the kind of fun, but . . . fun. Real fun and real adventure. No one could argue this sleepover isn't epic. No one.

Jake glances over his shoulder at me. My stomach does something weird that I don't think has that much to do with the exhilaration of the bike ride. Before I can even form a
thought or talk myself out of it, I smile at him, and he gives me a thumbs-up.

We pedal/skate hard and fast, keeping as close as possible to the side of the road to allow the very occasional car to pass. Only two do, one of them honking the entire time. We look ridiculous. I get it.

Luckily, we live in a quiet neighborhood and, because it's a weekend, it's emptier than usual around town. We have one last turn to make and then we'll see the Dunkin' Donuts. At this rate, we ought to get there exactly on time.

Of course, I forgot to take into account one minor detail: the Dunkin' Donuts is at the bottom of Hillside Avenue while we . . . are at the top. And Hillside Avenue is very,
very
appropriately named.

Jake crests the hill first and disappears over the top before I can yell to him to slow down. Is he remembering how steep the decline is? He has to be, right? My dad and I sometimes take walks on this road, and it's almost hard not to keep from jogging when we head down the top half. My stomach churns again, and this time it has nothing to do with a cute boy. I wish I could see Paige. If she's calm, maybe I can be, but if she's not . . .

The first set of the float's wheels bump over the edge of the hill. Then the second. I don't really have a choice but to follow. I mean, I can't abandon the float, or it might tip over.
Then again, if it does start tipping over, what am I possibly going to do about it? I'm already hanging on to the bike's handlebars for dear life.