Witcha'be Read Free Page B

sniffed her sickeningly sweet fingers, stifling a cough.
    “Vanilla cream,” she said.
    “Your mom said dinner would be ready in a few minutes.” I tried to ignore the green eyes boring into my skull from across the room.
    “Yikes. I think she’s making some vegetarian version of Chinese dumplings. She downloaded this whole recipe book of low-fat Asian dishes. Hope we can choke it down.” Lenni looked worried for a moment then broke into a big smile. “Molly, bring your huge bag downstairs and hide it under the table. We’ll fill it with dumplings when Mom’s not looking.”
    “Pam works hard to make you and your dad happy. You shouldn’t mock her cooking.” Bianca shoved her fists to her narrow hips and cocked a boot on Lenni’s desk chair. Her short skirt inched up her smooth thigh—Bianca had no reason to fear pink, plastic razors. “And I happen to be hungry.” Her hair smelled of earth and musk as she breezed from the room. The scent reminded me of the incense in the hippie store where Mom bought her CDs.
    “She hates me. How could you do this?” I asked, on the verge of tears.
    “Do what ?” Lenni seemed clueless.
    “Ask me to spend the night and invite Bianca behind my back. You know how she feels about me.” I swiped a tear from my cheek.
    “You’re wrong. I don’t know how she feels about you. I only know how you feel about her . Bianca’s never even mentioned you.”
    Her honesty stung my pride. “Don’t you think it’s strange that she’s never mentioned me, with you and me being such good friends?”
    “You don’t want her to talk about you, but you think it’s strange when she doesn’t? I’m beginning to think you’re the one with the problem, not Bianca.” She let a breath out slowly. “Molly, just give her a chance. I’ve known her for a long time—”
    “So I’ve heard. I know all about your cute little ‘blood sister’ dance and all that other ridiculousness.” Jealousy simmered, hot and bitter, in my bones.
    “That was forever ago. We were only seven. Trust me, we aren’t going to perform any more dances around the bloodberry bush.”
    “Whatever.” I shrugged, hating my insecurity.
    “Look, I know Bianca is different. Her uniqueness is what I love best about her. Just like your uniqueness is what I love best about you.”
    “Really? I thought you wanted me to get a makeover so I would be beautiful like you, your mom, and Bianca.” I crossed my arms.
    “You are beautiful. You just seem a little uptight sometimes, like maybe you don’t feel beautiful.” Lenni looked wounded. She creased her forehead. “I’ve only known you for a few months, but I could tell by that first day we spent together at the lake we would become best friends. I’m a good judge of character. If you give Bianca a chance, you’ll be good friends too.” She stretched her tank top to her eyes and wiped tears.
    My heart hurt for her. She’d gone out of her way to welcome me into her town, her school, her home. I couldn’t stand to see her cry. “I’ll try, okay? Turn off the tears.” I put my arm around her shoulders. “But I have to show you something. I still want you to know how she feels about me.” I unzipped my bag, dug to the bottom, and then dumped everything onto the carpet.
    The doll was missing. Goosebumps invaded my arms.
    “She must’ve gone through my bag when I was downstairs, and you were in the bathroom. She hid it somewhere.” I walked to Lenni’s desk, cluttered with cosmetics. In the middle of the pastel jumble lay Lenni’s scrapbook. I thumbed through it, as if a cardboard version of the doll would pop up.
    “What are you looking for?” Lenni asked, peeking over my shoulder.
    “I-I’m not sure. It’s too complicated to explain.” Our lake pictures. Lenni and I smiling, our images surrounded by miniature ocean-wave stickers and little, glued-on fish. I looked closely at my face, spine tingling. My knees buckled. I leaned against the