Bug Girl Page 6

  And she needed to do something else that was going to be even harder: persuade Emily to help.

  12

  Oyster Cove Middle School sat splat in the middle of town on a hill so small it had to be referred to as a hillock and made Amanda wonder why they didn’t just bulldoze it before they started building. Out in front of the big brick rectangle was a statue of a man wearing buckle shoes and a silly hat. Nobody ever bothered to read the placard he stood upon, which declared Tad Parsnippity the founder of the school. Nobody was particularly grateful that the school had been founded.

  This morning Amanda was decidedly more ungrateful than usual for the school’s existence. She’d spent most of the night “training” with Poppy, doing calisthenics, running wind sprints, and climbing onto the roof of the house so she could practice her jumping. Her skills were coming along, but since she’d gotten just three hours of sleep, her eyelids felt as if they had been sanded, her head pounded, and gravity was working overtime to pull her toward the center of the planet. Each step was a chore.

  Then there was her outfit.

  Though she had tried to convince Poppy that macaroni meditations would be effective enough to control her bugginess on campus, Poppy had insisted, and Amanda had been forced to take … precautions.

  First, in spite of the warm weather, Amanda had pulled on a wool turtleneck and pants. Next she’d located a trench coat, which provided extra coverage and had deep pockets to hide her hands. To top it off, she’d wrapped a scarf around her head several times and prayed it would be enough to contain her antennae should she become agitated.

  She was hot, and combined with the worry swirling in her stomach, she felt slightly nauseated as she walked up the school steps.

  Luckily the second appearance of the green holograms had everyone talking distractedly, and Amanda, despite her ensemble, was able to walk to her locker without a fuss. Along the way she listened in on the whispers and exclamations of her schoolmates. Judging from the snippets, it seemed everyone was up in arms.

  “My dad says it’s the end of the world!” LaDonna Tartenhaufer proclaimed. “He read all about it in the National Inquisitor.” She poked at the daily rag clutched in her fist. “I brought a copy in to share at circle time!”

  “Turkey, please. This is not permanent,” Eugenia Thrackmorten spat at the trembling conspiracy theorist. “This is an assault. We are under attack, and there isn’t anyone around to rescue us!”

  Darren Dibbles joined in the complaining. “Right? Megawoman and Dragonfly are so totally responsible for the town, you know? And they, like, abandoned us!”

  “My dad says that Oyster Cove Day might be canceled.” Cesar Horowitz nodded, fighting back tears. “My whole year will be ruined if I can’t compete in the deviled-egg-eating contest!”

  “Maybe Dragonfly and Megawoman were busy?” Missy Simpkin suggested, tentatively defending the town’s heroes. “Or they moved away?”

  “Those superladies are long gone,” Justice Herbert sneered. “I bet they’d be old and useless now anyway.”

  “I heard on the news this morning that the mayor’s office received something called a fax, whatever that is, stating that our entire town is getting what’s coming to it in just a few days, and that no one, especially Dragonfly and Megawoman, will be here to help us,” Mookie Pistachioso chimed in. “It didn’t say who the message was from, but it sounds pretty bad.”

  Amanda’s stomach churned faster. She didn’t know what a fax was, either, but Mookie’s words echoed in her head. In just a few days … no one to help us … someone sending threatening faxes to the mayor himself … the town heroes could not help.… Amanda felt herself being torn in two. Poppy had told her to be patient, but she wasn’t sure how long she could handle that!

  As she scuttled over to locker 512, she heard another student, Babs Hedgepeth, laugh in Mookie’s face. “That’s just some silly prank,” she said. “This whole messed-up business is just somebody’s idea of a joke.”

  Amanda wasn’t laughing. She peeked around the upturned collar of her enormous coat while she worked her locker combo and wished the out-of-date jacket didn’t have such massive shoulder pads. She also wished that Vincent and the rest of the Oyster Cove Entomological Society would get to school soon. She hoped her friends would help keep her calm.

  Finally, as the first wave of students headed to their homerooms, Amanda’s associates slipped nervously through the throng.

  “So what did you make of the recent, um, occurrences?” Amanda asked, anxious to hear their take.

  “Paranormal activity,” Stuart Rigby quickly asserted. “The likes of which haven’t been seen since the Great Haunting of ’06. Really bad news.”

  Amanda stepped back. Stuart was a ghost hunter, but really?

  “Refractions caused by a meteor shower, obviously,” Sylvia Blatherthwaite said skeptically. She researched everything to death. Astronomy was her favorite. “What did you make of them?”

  Amanda motioned the geeks to come in closer. “I’m not sure,” she said. “But I don’t think it was a natural or paranormal phenomenon, and we need to prepare ourselves. The apparitions swarming the town are nothing—there’s a more sinister plot afoot. Somebody’s threatening the whole town. And things are going to get a lot worse!”

  Sylvia snorted and immediately began to cough. Stuart patted her back.

  “You’re overreacting. Who would threaten Oyster Cove? We don’t get that sort of criminal activity here,” Sylvia said, pooh-poohing the proposition. “Not anymore. And if we did, I’m sure Megawoman and Dragonfly would buzz back from their tropical island or whatever. It’s going to be fine.”

  Amanda wanted to tell them it wasn’t going to be fine. Megawoman and Dragonfly weren’t on any tropical island! They had already been captured.

  Vincent, who had only just arrived, stood outside the group and took a puff from his inhaler. He held in his breath and, after eyeing Amanda’s dreadful outfit with a sour expression, gave her a supportive nod.

  Amanda’s forehead tingled—she was getting overemotional.

  “I just hope things go back to normal soon,” Clementine Varicose sniffled.

  Normal. Right. Unfortunately, there was nothing normal about what was happening under Amanda’s headscarf. Her skin was crawling. The protective exoskeleton armor had been triggered, and her feelers were twitching like crazy. She considered unwrapping her scarf and revealing her augmentations to shake up her science-minded friends, but Poppy had reminded her over and over while she trained that revealing her strength too soon would make her a target, and a secret identity would only keep her safe if it stayed secret. She could resist the urge.

  She thought of penne instead.

  By reciting silent noodle incantations and sticking close to Vincent, Amanda made it through most of the morning. Between classes, she scanned the student body nervously, but it wasn’t until the lunch bell rang that she spotted Emily.

  The blonde was coming down the hall, flipping her hair and pretending to ignore the people flocking around her. Typical. She was acting like nothing had happened.

  Amanda took a deep breath.

  The mere thought of approaching Emily was enough to make Amanda’s skin itch and her antennae tingle painfully beneath the scarf. Ravioli, ditalini, orecchiette, tortellini. She steeled herself and called out, “Emily!” Emily didn’t bother to look.

  “Emily!” Amanda called louder. Nothing. So rude.

  “EMILY!” Amanda practically screamed. That did it. Emily whirled on her heel. She fixed Amanda with a look and pointed toward the custodial closet.

  Amanda knew what she meant. Emily would not talk to her, a social reject, where they would be seen conversing. Not when it was Amanda’s idea.

  Feeling every bit as doomed as a ladybug straying too close to a trapdoor spider’s deadfall, Amanda stepped into the closet.

  TRAPDOOR SPIDER

  Fun Bug Fact: The trapdoor spider sets a trap with a silk hinge on one s
ide of a door made out of mud, silk, and plants. Then it hides under the door and waits for prey! Watch out!

  13

  Emily tried to make it look like her closet detour was planned and that she had some urgent janitorial business. But Amanda thought the way she stormed toward the closet with heaving stomps that echoed down the hall brought more attention to the situation than if she had just acted calm. Amanda was aware she had broken the Number One Rule of middle school etiquette imposed upon her by the school’s self-imposed ruler: She had called Emily by name. In public.

  But it had gotten her attention.

  “What?” Emily demanded, slamming the door shut as soon as she had slipped inside. But before Amanda could explain, Emily’s eyes adjusted to the low light, and she recoiled. “Holy crab apple. I cannot believe I’m in here. You know I hate low-quality cleaning products,” she snorted. “Gross.”

  Amanda tried to speak, but Emily was on a roll.

  “Plus the moisture in this tacky closet is going to ruin my outfit,” she groaned, and began brushing invisible filth off her skirt, as if the act of walking in had caked her in grime. “And furthermore, why are you talking to me at school? Did your mom put you up to this?”

  “Uh. No. But this is about our moms,” Amanda said, talking fast. She wasn’t sure how much time she had. “Listen, Emily. Something weird is happening, and there are things we need to discuss, like why your mom didn’t come home Saturday night.” Amanda paused. She looked at Emily, waiting for a reaction.

  “What do you mean?” Emily asked. She sounded defensive and a little freaked out. “What are you even talking about?” she asked more slowly, trying to play it off. Amanda saw her response for what it was—an act.

  The blonde was as freaked out as she was, if not more—at least Amanda had a clue about what was going on and why her mom hadn’t come home. Emily was probably still in the dark. She was probably scared. But even in the dim closet light, Amanda could see that Emily’s expression wasn’t frightened. Nope. She was radiating pure anger.

  “I don’t see that that’s any of your business,” Emily said through tight lips. “But if you must know, my mother is not at home. And I’m glad. If she had come home Saturday, she would have seen what you did to our living room! Do you know how hard it is to get chocolate out of shag? Lucky for you, Mom left before the party was over. She left … on a … on a cruise.”

  A cruise. Oh, please. Amanda knew that Mrs. Battfield despised cruises—the one time they’d all gone on one together, they had vowed never to go again.

  With her mother missing, Emily was all by herself—her father had gone away six months earlier because he needed “alone time,” as Amanda’s mother had diplomatically put it. And he hadn’t been in contact since. In other words, the Battfields were breaking up. No doubt the split was hitting Emily hard. Now, with both parents gone, Emily had only Frida to take care of her—though Amanda had always found Frida to be the most levelheaded and capable person in the Battfield house.

  “Listen.” Amanda reached out and touched Emily’s hand. “When our moms left the party, they said they were going to work out. But—”

  “No!” Emily yanked her hand back and looked away. She lifted her pert nose a little higher. “I will not listen to another word until you apologize for ruining my party!”

  Amanda recoiled from the verbal slap. “Are you kidding?” She blinked. “I’m trying to tell you I think our moms are in troub—Never mind.” Amanda stopped talking. There was no point.

  Emily had her manicured nails jammed in her ears and was chanting in singsong, “That doesn’t sound like an ap-o-lo-gy!”

  “Urgh!” Amanda’s trapped antennae were really starting to hurt, and she wanted to yank Emily’s hands away from her head. Rotini, tagliatelle, spiralini, pappardelle. She struggled to keep it together. Losing her temper wasn’t going to get her anywhere.

  Amanda took a deep breath and started again. “Listen to me! Our mothers are more than just best friends. They’re partners. They’re crime fighters. My mom is—”

  Emily sang louder.

  “Emily, are you five? I mean, you’re acting like a total kindergartner right now,” Amanda finally snapped, loud enough for Emily to hear it. That brought Emily out of her tantrum. She glared at Amanda.

  Then, without a word, Emily grabbed the first thing she could get her hands on—a stinky mop that had been hanging on the wall—and snapped it in half. She tossed the broken pieces aside without breaking eye contact.

  “Wow,” Amanda said, staring down at the splinters. “It’s happening to you, too. You’re getting powers!”

  “Okay, I’m so over this,” Emily finally spoke. “Nothing is happening to me.” She whirled and, with a twist of the handle, was free of the janitorial supply space and back in the crowded halls.

  Amanda trotted after her. She had more to say, and Emily needed to hear it!

  “Your mother didn’t come home because she’s Megawoman!” Amanda hissed in Emily’s ear. “And she’s been kidnapped. And we have to save her!”

  Emily tried to wave Amanda off as if she were an annoying gnat. She picked up speed, but Amanda kept pace.

  The two girls rounded the corner at a good clip and, wham, Emily slammed right into Vincent. The dainty boy was pitched against the lockers. The jolt launched all the data he’d gathered for the Future Scientists Kiosk from his hands and sent it fluttering all over the halls.

  “Oof,” Vincent huffed as papers rained down around him. He gasped for breath and flattened himself against the lockers to allow Emily to pass.

  Amanda stopped. “Oh, Vincent, are you okay?” Vincent could only nod, and Amanda let him steady himself on her arm. Emily continued on her way.

  “You can’t ignore this! THE MAYOR RECEIVED A FAX!” Amanda screamed after Emily, still unsure what a fax was. It sounded important, though. “We only have a few days!” she shrieked.

  Emily wasn’t impressed and continued stomping down the hall. Amanda watched her go, shaking her head. This whole partner thing was never going to work.

  Halfway down the locker bank, Emily turned, just for a second, and looked back at Amanda and Vincent. Amanda looked into her eyes. There was something there that reminded Amanda of her eighth birthday party—when Amanda had gotten the Megawoman Glitter Hair-n-Nails Playset that Emily really wanted and her mother refused to buy. The expression was a mix of hurt and want and fury and … before Amanda could name it, Emily whipped her head back around and was gone.

  In gym class, Amanda tried again.

  But it was track day, and Amanda had to spend extra time in the locker room digging up a supersize sweatshirt to cover her shiny arms, so by the time she made it up to the field, Emily was already sprinting around the track, her long legs striding confidently over the red clay.

  The day was exceptionally warm, and Amanda in her bulky fleece was sweating before she even made it around once. She could pour on a little insectile speed if she wanted, but she knew any show of sportiness on her part was bound to make people suspicious. Besides, her scarf was sliding all over the place, so she had to run with one arm up and one down to keep her appendages covered.

  She couldn’t catch up to Emily. Instead, her former friend lapped her.

  “Hey, Emily!” Amanda called as the girl whizzed past. Emily ignored her.

  “Emily, listen,” Amanda tried again. Useless.

  I’ll catch her in the locker room, Amanda told herself. Though the mere thought sent chills down her spine. Middle school locker rooms were not for the faint of heart.

  Amanda’s opportunity came after the bell, when all the other girls had left. Only Amanda, who had to change in a bathroom stall, and Emily, taking care to dust off her pristine white sneakers, remained in the echoey room. Amanda was sure Emily didn’t know she was there, because the girl was talking to herself—risky behavior, even for her.

  “It’s happening to you, too. You’re getting powers,” she heard Emily say in a mocking voi
ce. “Gross.”

  Amanda snorted. Only Emily would think having powers was something to complain about. She shuffled her feet to make her presence known, and Emily whipped her head around so fast, it was a wonder it didn’t snap right off her skinny neck.

  “You! Again! Give up!” Emily growled when she saw Amanda peeking around the cage of dodgeballs. She slung her bag over her shoulder and started to leave.

  “Wait. Emily, I seriously need to talk to you,” Amanda called. “I need you to come over to my house so I can show you some stuff about our moms.”

  “Oh, come on,” Emily spat dismissively. “I told you, my mother is on a cruise. And just because our moms are friends doesn’t mean—”

  “Do you really think that your mother would leave your birthday party to go on a cruise? Or are you just afraid of what’s really going on?” Amanda interrupted.

  Emily’s bag slid off her shoulder. She turned around to face Amanda with an expression Amanda couldn’t quite read—a cross between “I just sucked a lemon” and “you might be on to something”—when Mikki Folders threw open the locker-room door.

  “Fiddlesticks!” Amanda muttered.

  The instant Little Miss Folders saw Amanda and Emily standing together, her eyes grew wide. The queen of the school fraternizing with a freak was the kind of leverage a gossipy girl—and Mikki was a very gossipy girl—could really use. And all three of them knew it. The game had changed.

  The only way for Emily to save face now was to appear to be tormenting Amanda—which meant actually tormenting Amanda.

  Grasping Amanda’s arm, Emily started pushing her toward the showers. “Time to clean up, frumpy,” she said in a disdainful tone, reaching for Amanda’s scarf.

  Amanda squeezed her eyes shut. No! No! No! The middle school locker room was her personal house of horrors—and the waxworks in this one were coming to life.