Ruby Unscripted by Cindy Martinusen Coloma Read Free Book Online

horse you see in a field.

    I overhear Aunt Jenna on the phone, panic in her tone. “How sick are you? I know you’re sorry, but I just don’t know what I’m going to do tonight.” She hangs up and is punching in more numbers.
    â€œI thought you left,” she says as I come into the kitchen.
    â€œNo ride. Austin can get me in an hour, but I can stay and help.”
    â€œWhere’s your mom?”
    â€œShe’s interviewing the owner of that boutique for one of her magazines.”
    â€œWhat boutique?” But Aunt Jenna is by now flipping pages on her board, looking for any help.
    â€œListen, it’s no problem, Aunt Jenna. It’s not like I have plans.”
    She sighs. “I will make this up to you.”
    â€œThat sounds good,” I say with a smile. “Let me just make a phone call, and I’ll be back out there.”
    Aunt Jenna nods; then she closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and leaves with a renewed cheery look on her face. “Premiere Night officially begins.”
    The only thing that made me hesitate about volunteering for tonight was my phone. My poor lonely phone, sitting on the windowsill in my room, ringing inconsolably with no one to comfort it. And what’s been happening back home? My friends will think I’ve died. Nick might be annoyed that I’m not around for whatever he needs to ask me. Prom, prom?
    Mac answers the phone at the house.
    â€œHey, it’s Ruby. I need you to do me a favor.”
    â€œOkay, but it’s gonna cost you.”
    â€œCost me? Cost me what?”
    â€œDearly.”
    â€œHuh?”
    â€œI saw that on a movie. They said, ‘It’s gonna cost you dearly.’ What’s a dearly?”
    â€œListen, I can’t talk long.”
    â€œSo you don’t know either?”
    â€œI’ll explain later.”
    â€œSo you do know? Just tell me.”
    â€œMac! Listen to me. I need you to go up to my phone in my room and send Kate a text message.”
    â€œOh yeah, your phone keeps vibrating. I put one of my army men on it, and he stayed on for three seconds.”
    â€œMac. Focus. Listen to me. Get my phone.”
    â€œOkay, hang on. It was plugged in over here . . .”
    â€œYou’re in my room?”
    â€œMom and Austin are putting up my bunk beds, so they said I could play in here. Where’d your phone go? I built a Lego fortress around it—oh, here it is!”
    â€œGreat. Now do you remember how to send a text?”
    â€œIt says you have twenty new messages.”
    I hear a few beeps.
    â€œAnd six missed calls.”
    â€œMissed calls?” That could mean something. My friends only call when something’s important.
    â€œDo you want me to read your messages to you?”
    â€œNo! Just go to contacts—do you see the button you push beneath contacts? Then scroll down, you’ll see the arrow keys—”
    â€œI play games on Mom’s phone, remember. I know how it works.”
    â€œOkay, send a text to Kate. Just say Ruby is at work and forgot her phone at home. She’ll call when she’s back.”
    â€œI better write that down.”
    My aunt calls my name from the front counter.
    â€œI have to go—just remember it. You’re just telling her I don’t have my phone, and I’ll call when I’m home from work.”
    â€œHome from work, will call . . .”
    I hear people in the dining area of the coffeehouse.
    â€œPromise you’ll put my phone back after that.”
    â€œIt’s gonna cost you.”
    â€œDearly, yes, I know.”
    He laughs at that.
    â€œI could take messages for you. ‘Ruby’s phone, Mac speaking.’ See how good I’d be.”
    â€œNo. Just send that to Kate and nothing else.”
    â€œOops.”
    The last thing you want to hear your ten-year-old brother say when he’s using your phone is “Oops.”
    â€œWhat