It's Only Temporary by Sally Warner Read Free Book Online

“Well,” she finally said, “what about if you plan the menu for tomorrow night? What sounds good? You name it.”
    Skye grinned at her. “How about beanie-weenies, and iceberg lettuce salad with orange bottled dressing?” she answered, thinking of home. “And a butterscotch pudding cup with whipped topping for dessert?”
    A shocked silence seemed to hover over the dining-room table. “I hope you’re joking,” Gran finally said, barely squeezing out the words.
    â€œNot really,” Skye said softly. “But never mind. It’s okay.”
    â€œI – I could try making the beanie-weenies, if you tell me how,” Gran said, sounding brave. “And you can pour ketchup all over it,” she added.
    Skye managed a laugh. “Thanks, Gran,” she said. “But the way you cook is okay. I’m getting used to it, in fact.”
    Dear Scott, Hi! Guess what? I think Gran has a boyfriend! Shehad a date last night, and I had to go over to Maddy’s house.
    Maddy is this girl who lives across the street. She comes to art activities with me. She has a syndrome of some kind, but it doesn’t seem to bother her much.
    School is going okay. The meanest kids in school are on the football team. They pretty much leave us art kids alone, except when they feel like picking on someone, usually Pip. The bad ballerinas pick on Amanda and me, but so far it’s not too bad. From Art Jerk Skye

    HI ART JRK HAHA! THAT IS A MESSD UP NAME. AND NO WAY GRAN HAS A BFRND. SHE IS 2 OLD. I WNT 2 THE MALL WITH MOM AND I SAW STACIE BUT SHE PRETND SHE DOESNT SEE ME, THAT SUX RELLY BAD. I PRETND IM BUSY LOKING AT STUFF IN A STOR SO MOM WILL BE OK WITH IT.(DON’T GET MAD, U R MY KEYBRDNG TODAY BUT ID WRITE U ANYWAY) LOVE SCOTT

    Dear Scott, I am really sorry about Stacie at the mall. I think you were a lot braver than Stacie, because you were thinking about Mom, and Stacie wasn’t thinking about anyone except herself. Love, Skye

11
Sticky
    A s usual, Skye opened her locker with caution. It was two weeks before Halloween, and the tall narrow space was a mess, crammed full of textbooks, forgotten take-home announcements, stray assignments, a sweatshirt, and a couple of battered lip-gloss wands, among other things. But today, on top of her second-best hairbrush, was a folded piece of paper.
    Skye hunched against her half-opened locker for privacy and unfolded the paper with fingers that had suddenly turned cold. Was this hate mail from one of the bad ballerinas, or just a note from Amanda?
    But instead of being either, it was a really cool drawing–unsigned. It looked like a long, scary head with hollow eyes and a single listening ear, and it had ropy cords twining allaround it. The head’s gaping mouth looked as if it was trying to say something.

    It was a boy’s drawing for sure, in Skye’s opinion, but who had done it? Pip? Matteo? And why had whoever-it-was sneaked it into her locker?
    Skye smoothed the drawing flat and slipped it into her school notebook.
    â€œUrk! What are you eating?” Melissa Del Vecchio – one of the bad ballerinas – asked Amanda a couple of hours later, wrinkling her nose as she stalked by the art kids’ cafeteria table. Skye looked down, her finger tracing cloudy circles on the beige laminated tabletop. She’d been thinking about the mystery drawing.
    â€œIt’s called a peanut butter sandwich, Melissa,” Amanda said in her squeaky voice, but with exaggerated patience. “Can you say ‘sand-wich’?”

    â€œNo, I can’t,” Melissa replied, swinging her hair over her shoulder. “But I can say ‘gross.’ Do you know how many carbohydrates there are in that thing? And fat?”
    â€œNope, and neitherdo you,” Amanda said, taking a defiant bite of her sticky sandwich – which effectively ended her part of the conversation.
    â€œWell,” Melissa said loudly,