Girl on the Other Side by Deborah Kerbel Read Free Book Online

sitting in my desk drawer for two weeks, making me sick every time I looked at it. If only I’d had the guts to rip it up in front of Catherine and David that night of my birthday. That would have really got their attention. But it’s too late for that now. So instead, I’ve decided to spend the money fast. Maybe that’ll help erase some of the anger I still feel over losing Grandma’s bracelet.
    â€œUm … let’s try Roots,” suggests Brandi.
    â€œNo, let’s do Garage,” says Dylan.
    Because I can, I decide to overrule them both.
    â€œNo, I think we should take a break and get something to drink,” I say, with a nod toward the coffee shop on the other side of the mall.
    â€œOkay,” says Brandi.
    â€œYeah, I could use a break,” echoes Dylan.
    Of course they agree. Really, what choice do they have?
    I lead the way while the twins follow behind. We make our way easily through the throngs of people. Today’s Saturday and, since most of the stores are having sales, the mall is busy. But the crowd opens up to let me through — kind of like in that old movie Grandma showed me when the Red Sea parted for Moses.
    When the twins and I get to the coffee shop, we stroll up to the counter to get our drinks. Of course, Tweedle-dum and Tweedle-dee wait to hear what I’m getting before making their orders.
    â€œLarge non-fat decaf latte, please,” I say.
    â€œI’ll have one, too,” says Dylan.
    â€œSame for me,” Brandi chimes in.
    While we fish change out of our wallets and wait for our coffees, I notice a familiar face standing on the other side of the counter. It only takes a second for me to realize that it’s Lora Froggett pouring foam into our lattes. The twins notice, too. Dylan pokes my arm with one hand and points with the other.
    â€œLook, Frog-face works here.”
    â€œHa! Maybe she’s trying to earn enough money to buy a new wardrobe,” laughs Brandi.
    I laugh, too.
    â€œAt least we can’t see her Payless Shoes from this side of the counter,” Dylan adds.
    Frog-face doesn’t look up from the coffee cups, but I can see her cheeks turn a bright shade of pink so I know she’s heard us. I don’t feel bad. With all the bullying I’ve seen her take at school, our little comments are nothing.
    Suddenly I feel twin elbows poking my arms and I realize that Dylan and Brandi are waiting for me to take my turn. I don’t really have anything to gain by putting Lora down, but sometimes I just go along with the rest of them because I know they expect it. And let’s face it, she’s such an easy target.
    â€œHere,” I say, dropping the change from my coffee into the tip jar, “… just a little something extra, so you can splurge on your next trip to Value Village.”
    With the pennies still ringing against the glass, Lora’s face dips down toward the floor and I think for a second that she might actually cry. Damn, maybe that one wasn’t so harmless. I turn away from the counter before the twinge of guilt that’s pricking at my conscience can grow any bigger.
    We pick up our cups and take a seat at a nearby table — the only empty one in the shop. It doesn’t take long to see why nobody else is sitting there. Some slob has spilled their coffee and left their muffin crumbs all over the place.
    â€œExcuse me, could we get this table cleaned? It’s kinda gross,” I ask the hairy waiter who’s standing nearby. Disgusted, I drop my shopping bags onto an empty chair and sit down.
    A girl with green hair comes over to wipe down our table. As she’s mopping up the crumbs, she accidently bumps Brandi’s arm and tips over her latte. It spills all over the table and floor, just missing her brand-new pink Uggs. Brandi jumps to her feet and starts to yell at the waitress — who has a funny look on her face, like she’s trying to swallow a