late,” she told Frankie in a slight accent, and
Charlotte remembered Brooklyn mentioning
that her mom was from Uruguay. As Frankie
pounded up the stairs, the woman
said, “You must be Charlotte. I’m
Brooklyn’s mom. Come in. She’s
almost ready.”
Charlotte had barely taken
a seat in the living room when
Frankie emerged from the
kitchen, dressed in shorts and
a soccer jersey.
Charlotte blinked and
shook her head. Had she
dozed off? I must be really
sleep-deprived, she thought.
“You’ll be cold in that,”
said Brooklyn’s mom, following the child out of the kitchen.
“Go upstairs and get a hoodie.”
No sooner had Brooklyn’s mom turned away than Frankie
reappeared, wearing jeans and the required hooded sweatshirt.
Incredible, thought Charlotte as Frankie followed Ms. Patrick
into the kitchen. That has to be the world’s fastest kid.
“Hey!” cried Brooklyn, galloping down the stairs. “Sorry to make
you wait. It’s chaos here every morning.”
She wriggled into her jacket and called, “Bye, Mom!”
“Your whole family must be great at soccer,” said Charlotte as they
walked. “Frankie moves faster than any kid I’ve ever seen.”
Brooklyn laughed aloud. “Frankie’s not that fast. I’ll explain . . .”
What did Brooklyn explain? (TAP HERE for answer.)
A Winning
Combination
“Where’s Alex?” Brooklyn won-
dered aloud. “She was supposed to be
here ten minutes ago.”
“Maybe she’s waiting for us inside,”
suggested Charlotte. She peered
through the glass panels of the doors
at Weston Middle School’s main
entrance, trying to spot their friend,
but saw no sign of activity. Most of the
students had rushed out as soon as
the bell rang at 3:15 and were probably
already at home or in Centennial Park
by now.
“We definitely agreed to meet by
the flagpole after school,” Brooklyn
said. “This is the only flagpole around.”
It was Friday afternoon—the end
of the first week of school—and the
girls were beyond eager for the
weekend to start. Charlotte’s
mom had gotten tickets
for them to the 5 p.m.
showing of The Suspense Sisterhood, the new movie that all the kids at Weston
were dying to see. It opened today, and every show had sold out! Even with
tickets, they would have to get to the theater early to get good seats.
It was already 3:35. What was taking Alex so long? If she didn’t show up
soon, they would end up stuck in the front row.
“I’m going to see if I can find her,” said Charlotte.
“Good idea,” Brooklyn agreed. “I’ll stay here in case she comes out.”
Walking back into the stone building with its tall windows and banks of
lockers lining the halls, Charlotte already felt at home. Last week’s terror
seemed like a distant memory. Alex and Brooklyn had introduced her to
everyone they knew from elementary school, and most of the kids had been
surprisingly friendly. Better yet, despite her nightmares, Charlotte hadn’t
flunked any math classes, and no one had threatened to send her back to
kindergarten. In fact, she was one of the best math students in the class!
There was no sign of Alex in the deserted halls on the first floor.
Charlotte opened the girls’ bathroom doors and
called her friend’s name but got no answer. She
peered into every classroom she passed,
and then checked the lunchroom, the
gym, and the auditorium before head-
ing to the second floor. At last she
spotted the missing girl at the end of
the hall, struggling with the handle
of a locker.
“There you are!” Charlotte
exclaimed. “We were starting to
think something happened to you.”
“It did,” muttered Alex.
“What’s wrong?”
“I . . . can’t . . . get . . . my . . .
stupid . . . locker . . . open!”
Charlotte suppressed a giggle.
“Nobody else had a problem!” Alex
seemed close to tears. “What’s wrong with
me? I think the lock must be broken. Or maybe
they gave me the wrong combination.”
“Did you turn the dial right, then left, then right again?”
“About fifty times, but it still won’t work!”
“Did you go past the number once when you turned it to the left?”
“Yes!” wailed Alex.
“Can I try?”
“Go ahead,” Alex said, sliding down to the floor in defeat, her back
resting against the lockers.
“Okay, tell me the combination.”
“Nine . . . eleven . . . six.”
Charlotte turned the combination lock as Alex read the numbers.
“Hmmm,” said Charlotte. “That’s weird. It doesn’t open for me either.”
“So, I’m not crazy. It is broken!”