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put the notebook in a safe, dark place where I wouldn’t lose it—only now I have.”
    I patted her arm reassuringly. “We’ll find it.”
    But after checking every folder, drawer, shelf, and scrap of paper, we didn’t.
    I was ready to go against everything I believed in—or didn’t want to believe in—and ask Opal for help. But before I got a chance, Nona suggested we put the search on hold and have lunch. When we entered the kitchen, I spotted the egg carton still on the counter where I’d left it.
    “You’re not the only one who forgets things,” I told my grandmother with a wry smile. “I better put it away.”
    I pulled open the refrigerator door. Then I stared in astonishment. I couldn’t help myself—I started laughing.
    “What is it?” Nona demanded.
    “Look!” I pointed inside the refrigerator where a blue spiral-bound book was propped between a blueberry jam jar and a catsup bottle.
    I’d found Nona’s missing notebook.

Shake it, shake it, rattle and roll.
    Win, win, win! That’s our goal.
    Penny-Love and Jill jumped high, waving their poms, then slid down in perfect splits.
    “That was great!” I said, applauding from the garage floor where I was on my knees painting a large letter H in shades of red, white, and blue on a poster. Adding a patriotic theme was my idea, and I was glad the others approved.
    Jill’s house was in a subdivision near the school, about a mile from Nona’s farmhouse. Since we were having a mild October, I’d walked over instead of driving.
    I enjoyed hanging out with such energetic, hard-working girls. Cheerleaders weren’t the fluff-brains I used to think, but seriously dedicated athletes. I admired that, but no way did I want to wave poms or do the splits in front of crowds. Watching from the sidelines suited me fine.
    Four members of the Sheridan Spirit Squad were present: Penny-Love, Jill, Catelynn, and Kaitlyn. They all wore sweats and T-shirts, except for Penny-Love who never dressed down, not even when she planned to paint. She’d twisted her wild red hair into twin French braids and wore a high-cut purple stretch top that showed off the diamond pierced into her bellybutton.
    “You’re a great audience, Sabine,” Jill said with a flash of her pearly smile. She was team captain and brilliant at creating new routines. “It still needs work, but we can practice later. It’s more important to finish the posters.”
    “This one’s almost done.” I said as I dipped my brush into the red paint and filled in the outline of the letter H .
    “I got more paint on myself than the poster,” Catelynn complained as she held out a long strand of her blue-splattered brunette hair. “I’m a disgusting mess.”
    “That for sure,” her best friend Kaitlyn teased. Although Catelynn and Kaitlyn shared a name, they were total opposites. Perfectionist Catelynn was often critical, while Kaitlyn had a kooky sense of humor.
    “We’re all a mess, but it’ll wash off,” Jill said.
    “But Catelynn is the worst,” Kaitlyn pointed out. “She looks like a rainbow exploded on her.”
    Jill giggled. “True. Catelynn, you even have paint in your ears.”
    “Anyone got a camera?” Penny-Love asked. “This would make a great front-page shot for the Shout-Out.”
    “Or I could give Manny a call—among his many duties, he’s also the staff photographer,” I said.
    “Don’t you dare!” Catelynn protested. “Or I’ll wipe paint all over you.”
    “Okay, okay,” Kaitlyn said with a giggle. “Truce.”
    “I was just kidding,” I added. “I wouldn’t really call Manny.”
    “Too bad,” Jill said with a sigh. “Oh-So-Fine Manny is welcome here anytime.”
    “I just love his column,” Kaitlyn added. “He did a great job on that ten-year-in-the-future article. I’d love for him to write about my future.”
    I smiled, used to these sort of comments by now. Manny didn’t care what anyone thought of him, dressed and acted exactly as he pleased, and instead