Sprinkles and Secrets by Lisa Schroeder Read Free Book Online Page A

Dennis?”
    â€œYeah?”
    â€œYou’re not going to try and show me the dead bird’s foot at your house, are you?”
    â€œDon’t worry. I know it’s not everyone’s thing. But, Sophie, I’m curious. What is your thing?”
    And before I have time to think twice, the word comes out. “Acting.” I let out a big sigh, because the truth really does sort of hurt. “My thing, right now, is acting.”
    â€œCool,” he says. “I bet you’re good at it.”
    And all I can think is,
We’ll see, Dennis. We’ll see.

Chapter 10
milk and chocolate-chip cookies
THEY MAKE HOMEWORK BEARABLE
    W hen we walk into Dennis’s house, it smells delicious, like we’ve just walked into a bakery.
    â€œHello!” a woman’s voice calls out. “Dennis, I’m in the kitchen.”
    â€œYeah, Mom, I can tell. Whatever you’re making, it smells really good!”
    We’re standing in the living room, where there are more knickknacks than I’ve ever seen in one place. She has hutches, bookshelves, and end tables full of music boxes, tea cups, ceramic and glass figurines, and all kinds of other stuff. It’s totally different from our house. My mom can’t stand having knickknacks or useless stuff just sitting around.
    Dennis must sense my amazement. “Something else, huh? My mom calls them her treasures.” He drops his voice to a whisper. “That’s not what I would call them.”
    â€œWhere does she get it all?” I ask.
    â€œThe thrift store. Man, she loves that place. There’s nothing here that cost more than three ninety-nine. Except maybe the sofa. I think she got that for nineteen ninety-nine.”
    I look at the old sofa with pink-and-green stripes. She paid $19.99 for that? I think she got robbed. “So, I guess you could call her a treasure hunter?”
    He smiles. “Something like that.” He picks up a glass penguin as we walk by one of the end tables.“Help!” he says in a high, squeaky voice. “Get me back to the South Pole. I’m dying here.”
    â€œWatch your feet, penguin,” I say. “They’re not safe around Dennis.”
    â€œWait a second,” he says. “Do penguin have feet?”
    I give him a shove. “Stop it.”
    I follow him into the kitchen where his mom is standing at the counter with a spatula, taking cookies off a baking sheet and putting them on a cooling rack. She’s a short woman, and has her brown hair up in a bun. She’s wearing a bright red-and-yellow apron and a big smile.
    â€œI hope you like chocolate, Sophie.”
    â€œI love it,” I say.
    â€œGood. This chocolate-chip cookie recipe is our favorite. It’s very unique in that the oatmeal is blended before you add it in. Dennis, you want to pour some milk for you two?”
    She puts the spatula down and comes over to me, carrying a plate of cookies. “Don’t know if you remember me. I’m Margie.”
    â€œI remember. We were just talking about his first-grade birthday party.”
    â€œLet’s see, was that Power Rangers or Spiderman?”
    â€œPower Rangers,” Dennis and I say at the same time. Then he says, “I think I still have some action figures around here somewhere, Sophie. You want to play with them when we’re done? You could be the pink one.”
    I raise my eyebrows at him. “I hope you’re joking.”
    Margie hands me the plate of cookies, then turns to Dennis. “You two can use the kitchen table for your homework. I have laundry to put away. Just holler if you need anything, okay?”
    â€œThanks, Mom.”
    â€œThanks,” I echo.
    She leaves and we go to the kitchen table. We set the cookies and milk down and drop our backpacks onto the floor. “Let’s eat first,” Dennis says. “I’m starving.”
    I take a bite of a cookie. “These are really