Read Nekomah Creek for Free Online Page B

store. Are you going there?”
    “Well, I want to. Mom and Dad have been promising me we will. I mean, every time I see the ad on TV after
Reading Rainbow
I practically start drooling. You know, where they call it a City ofBooks? A whole block? Wow. I’ve been saving my allowance for months now.” I sighed. “We’ll never get there at this rate, though. Every time we plan to
go
something comes up—Freddie gets another ear infection, Mom has to work, the van breaks down …” I glanced at Mrs. Van Gent. “I don’t blame any of this on the babies, though.”
    “Of course not.”
    “I mean, they didn’t ask to be born.”
    Mrs. Van Gent smiled.
    “But sometimes …”
    “Yes?”
    “Well, sometimes it seems like I’m always getting in trouble over them. They do something bad and Dad gets mad at
me
because I didn’t stop them. I don’t think that’s fair!”
    “No, I can see why you’d feel that way.” She glanced at her watch. “Oh, dear, I wish I could hear more about it now but I’m afraid our time is up. Let’s remember to talk about that next week, okay?”
    “Uh …” Right then that didn’t sound so bad. Nobody had listened to me talk this long in ages. “I guess,” I finally said.
    “Oh, by the way …” She handed me a paper. “I forgot last week. I’ll need to have your parents sign this.”
    I took the sheet. “What is it?”
    “A permission slip for counseling. Just a formality, in your case. I know how supportive your folkswere about the idea of having a counselor at Nekomah Creek.”
    My smile must have looked a little sick. I was thinking they probably liked the idea a lot better picturing Orin Downard in the hot seat instead of their own kid.
    Just outside the door, Amber was waiting her turn. As I passed, she stuck her face up so close I could’ve counted the freckles.
    “You didn’t tell anything about your family, did you?”
    “What do you mean?”
    “I mean I hope you didn’t get tricked into saying things you shouldn’t have.”
    “I didn’t,” I said uneasily. “At least I don’t think so.”
    “You didn’t complain about anything? About your parents or anything that happens at your house?”
    “No!” Why was I lying? Why was I feeling so guilty?
    “That’s good, because she can be so sneaky. Take it from me, I
know
. She acts so nice, but it’s just so you’ll spill your guts. Then they get you.”
    “Get you?” My legs felt weak.
    “Yeah, they use everything you say to prove what’s wrong with your family.”
    “Well, I didn’t say anything bad about my family.”
    But as I headed back down the hall, I was kickingmyself. Me and my big mouth, complaining about Dad not having time for me, admitting how mad it made me when the twins got me in trouble. I’d probably just turned my whole family in. I pictured Mom and Dad sitting in those little chairs outside the principal’s office, hanging their heads. They’d have to wear those pointy dunce hats like you see in old movies. BAD PARENTS, the hats would announce in big black letters.
    And it would be my fault.
    Back in the classroom, it was free reading time, usually my favorite. Only now, when I opened my book, the words just buzzed around the page. No way would they line up in sentences and march the story into my brain. Already too crowded in there with all these bad thoughts, I guess.
    Now that really made me mad! It wasn’t enough that the school people were keeping me from reading as much as I wanted to—now they’d fixed it so I couldn’t concentrate on reading at all!

  6  

The Spaghetti Disaster
    Riding my bike home after school, I felt weighed down with dread. If I didn’t have a big heavy problem before, I sure did now. The school would be wanting this permission slip back. I had to tell Mom and Dad about the counselor.
    By the time I coasted down over our own little bridge, I had made up my mind to come clean, tell Dad everything, even admit how I’d ratted on our family