Everyone's a Critic Read Free Page B

the cafeteria took over the hallways, and at this point I hoped I’d never see Michael again. Well, at least not today. It was hard to be honest sometimes, but I didn’t want to get into an argument with Hailey. I know she wants the best for me and Michael. Sometimes she can just get a little carried away. Just a bit.

Chapter 3
POSSESSED WASHING MACHINE EATS SECRET LETTERS!

    Hailey came over and we did our homework together. Hailey usually needs some help with her homework because of her dyslexia. Afterward she showed me photos of Michael that Jeff, the Voice photographer, posted on Buddybook of him goofing around after a baseball game. There was one where he was in his uniform balancing a baseball on his bat, and somehow managing to give the camera a gorgeous smile. I wanted to print it out and make a poster of it. Of course, I had to restrain myself. Imagine if he ever saw I made a poster of him? The probability of him ever seeing my room is probably a big fat zero, but still. Then Hailey had to leave because hermom wanted her home for dinner. Hailey said she wished she could stay because she was probably going home to soy burgers and spinach soufflé, and the smells coming from our kitchen were delicious.
    â€œPotatoes?” Mom asked when Allie and I sat down for dinner. She held out a thick white bowl heaped with her awesome roasted potatoes. She puts these little sprigs of rosemary on them. They rock. She also made steak and sautéed string beans. Mom only makes steak for our birthdays or when we have special guests.
    â€œMom, what’s the occasion?” I asked.
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œSteak and everything,” I said, taking a small scoop of potatoes.
    â€œNo occasion,” she said cheerfully. “I just wanted to have a nice dinner with my daughters and catch up. I miss you guys. We’ve all been so busy.”
    Mom is a freelance bookkeeper, and sometimes her schedule is pretty light. But sometimes she hasto work like crazy, which is how it’s been during the past few weeks. We’ve been grabbing quick dinners at the kitchen counter. When she’s really busy, my mom puts something in the fridge for us to heat up in the microwave.
    â€œAllie?” Mom said, holding the bowl in front of her.
    â€œNo thanks. I’m going low-carb for the play,” Allie said with a toss of her hair, and she heaped up her plate with steak and string beans. Then she nudged her phone out of her jeans pocket and started texting with one hand under the table, her phone on her knee.
    â€œYou seriously have a problem,” I said.
    Mom looked up. “Allie, we’re having a media-free dinner.”
    â€œBut—”
    â€œNo buts,” Mom said, holding out her hand for Allie’s phone. “So, tell us. How’s the play going, Miss Low Carb?”
    Allie rolled her eyes and gave Mom the phone. Then she took a deep breath and started twirling her long, shiny hair into a bun. Whenever shestarts playing with her hair, it’s going to be a long story.
    â€œIt’s okay. I just can’t believe I didn’t get the part of Maria. I mean, Julia Gowen is okay, but my audition was awesome. She might be able to sing, but she can’t dance. She’s so awkward. The only reason she got the part was because she and the director’s daughter went to some theater camp together last summer and she gets straight A’s and the director wanted the person who plays the lead to be able to handle it academically. But I could have totally handled it, and I’m a much better dancer.” Then she sighed and let her hair spill over her shoulders again.
    â€œBut do you like your part?” I asked. Allie was playing the lead’s best friend, Anita.
    Allie shrugged and took a big bite of the string beans. “It’s one of the big roles. But I wish I were Maria.”
    Allie does a lot of theater, and as much as I hate to admit it, she’s a