The Caped 6th Grader by Zoe Quinn Read Free Book Online

our sodas, and there was a moment of confusion when Emily was given Josh's root beer by mistake. Caitlin looked glad of the distraction, but Howie wasn't about to let the topic drop.
    “Aren't you going to tell them what happened?” he prompted.
    Caitlin shot him a look that could have frozen the soda in his glass. “Of course I am,” she said. “Why wouldn't I? After all, it was just an honest mistake. It was kind of amusing, actually.”
    “Hmmm.” Howie took a long sip of his cola. “I don't think Mr. Adamson thought it was amusing.”
    “What mistake?” Emily asked. “Who's Mr. Adamson?”
    Caitlin let out a long sigh, then forced a bright smile. “The Adamsons are regular customers at the flower shop. Yesterday, Mr. Adamson called and ordered an elaborate bouquet and asked that it be sent to his wife, with a card that said, ‘I love you more each day, Hugs and kisses, Melvin.’ Well, I took the order and prepared the arrangement and had it delivered to Mrs. Adamson.”
    “So what was the problem?” Josh asked.
    “The problem,” said Howie, “was that the phone call wasn't from Mr. Michael Adamson, it was from Mr. Melvin
Abramson.
So when Mr. Adamson got home and saw the mushy card his wife had gotten from some guy named Melvin, he was furious.
    He thought his wife was dating another man!”
    I gulped. Caitlin was studying the tabletop. She looked uncomfortable, but not especially sorry. In fact, she looked as if she was trying not to crack up.
    “So what happened?” Emily asked.
    Howie shook his head. “It was awful. Mrs. Adamson swore she didn't know anyone named Melvin, but Mr. Adamson said the flowers were proof that she was lying. Finally, they had to call my grandpa to get to the bottom of the mess. He figured out that Caitlin had gotten the names confused and sent the arrangement to the wrong wife. But to make matters worse, Mr. Abramson called to say that he was in the doghouse because his wife never received her birthday bouquet.”
    “Adamson, Abramson,” Caitlin said offhandedly. “It could have happened to anyone.”
    Sure it could, I thought. Except it had happened to
her
, and there was something about Caitlin Abbott that made me the teensiest bit suspicious.…
    The waitress arrived with our burgers and we dug in, eating quickly because no one wanted to be late to work.
    Especially me. Washing bottles may not sound like fancy work, but it was cool by me. I'd scrub at the sink in the workroom, and Electra would draw, and I'd get to hear more of her stories from the comics-writing world. For the world's biggest Electra Allbright fan (that's me, by the way), what could be better?

    When I arrived at Electra's mansion, I found that she had left the front door unlocked for me. I let myself in and headed upto her attic studio, my backpack stuffed with Grandpa's huge scrapbook—thudding against my shoulder.
    I entered the attic and found Electra frowning at a storyboard.
    “Hi,” I said from the doorway.
    “Hello, Zoe,” said Electra, not looking up. “Hope you didn't mind seeing yourself up—I'm experiencing a comic-book author's worst nightmare at the moment.”
    “What's that?” I inquired.
    Electra let out an exasperated huff. “Writer's block.” She frowned at the sketches in front of her, then glanced up at me with a grin. “I could use some input.”
    I put my backpack on the floor beside the door and crossed the attic to her table. “Here's the problem,” she said. “Lightning Girl has been captured by the villain Riptide. Nasty guy …”
    I nodded. “I remember him. He's the one who trained the killer sharks to breathe on land and set them loose in shopping malls all over America.”
    “Right. Well, now he and Lightning Girl have crossed paths again and he's just sealed her into an airtight room. No windows, no vents, and the door is padlocked on the outside, so she can't fire a lightning bolt at it.”
    “YIKES.”
    “Indeed.” Electra tapped her pencil on the