Pizza Is the Best Breakfast Read Free Page B

“And why don’t you like Rainbow Sparkle anymore? She is my favorite cartoon cat ever.”
    â€œI watch other stuff now,” Paige says, and she runs her fingers through her hair, turning the waves round and round into loose curls.
    â€œDo you want to play hairdresser?” I ask her. “I will do your hair, and then you can do mine, and then—”
    â€œNah,” Paige interrupts me again. “I don’t really like other people touching my hair.” And this is terrible news, because I would definitelylike to see what Paige’s curls feel like. But before I can answer her, Timmy bursts through my bedroom door, even though there is a sign on it with a big X through his name and everything.
    â€œCome on, Paige!” he says, padding into my room in his fire-truck pajamas to grab Paige’s hand. Paige reaches out and takes it.
    â€œOh, so I told Timmy I would sleep in his room tonight,” Paige turns over her shoulder to tell me as Timmy drags her toward the door. “Good night, Manda. We can pretend to be twins tomorrow.”
    Paige and Timmy disappear from my room, and I am left all by myself standing on the mattress, which doesn’t even feel much like a trampoline anymore. And I didn’t even get to tell Paige that we could never be twins, and not just because I don’t like twins.
    We could never be twins because Paige haswavy blond hair and I have straight brown hair, and Paige hates Rainbow Sparkle and I love her, and Paige left me for Timmy, when I was supposed to be her favorite cousin.
    And also, I saw Paige’s underwear, and it’s not even polka dot.

CHAPTER 3
Stinky Toes up Your Nose

    I WAKE UP SUPER-DUPER EARLY on Saturday morning, and Timmy’s bedroom door is closed, which makes me happy, because I do not feel like seeing his or Paige’s face yet. I pad down the stairs and into the living room. All of the lights in the house are still off because no one is awake but me, and it is kind of spooky, like a haunted house. I feel a shiver run down my back, and I scurry through the living room quickly, just in case a ghost is chasing me in the dark. When Ireach the kitchen, I turn on each and every light so it won’t be so scary in here.
    â€œYou can’t get me now, ghosts,” I say out loud, because even though I am not a fraidy cat, I am still a little bit scared of ghosts, if I am being honest. That is because every Halloween, our neighbors, the Packles, turn their entire front porch into a ghost town, and I am never sure where the ghosts go for the rest of the year. Our house is right next door, after all—they might get confused and move in here.
    I asked Anya once if she thought there were any ghosts from the Packles’ trespassing in my house, and she said probably not, but I like to keep the lights on downstairs just in case. Because everyone knows that ghosts hate bright things.
    I slide my feet across the kitchen floor to the refrigerator, and I open the door and peer in. Milkand apples and baby tomatoes are right in front of me, but that is not what I would like for breakfast. I glance all around the refrigerator until I spot them: the chocolate pudding cups hiding on the top shelf. Mom must have moved them yesterday so that Timmy wouldn’t be able to reach them anymore, but I am much taller than Timmy, so if I stand on the bottom shelf, I can touch a cup with my fingertips. I step onto the shelf, gripping the edge with my toes, and I stretch my arm as far back as it will go toward the top right corner of the refrigerator. My fingertips tickle the pudding containers, and I scrape my nails against one trying to drag it closer to me.
    â€œAnd what do you think you’re doing?” Dad’s voice comes from behind me, and I am so startled that I almost fall backward out of the refrigerator. I hold on to the side of the door to steady myself and then whip around. Dad isstanding there holding a twin, and