Read Rules for Stealing Stars for Free Online Page B

could get away with it. But she doesn’t answer. “Astrid?” I try. I’m not even sure how loud I’m calling. It could be a whisper, for all I know. I’m too overwhelmed to really assess anything. But Astrid doesn’t answer either. I mean, she barely hears me when we’re in the same room and I’m making eye contact with her, let alone when we’re in different rooms doing entirely different things.
    â€œMarla . . . ,” I say. This time I know it’s a whisper. I’m not sure I actually want Marla to come running, but I’m sort of out of options, and at least if she were here, I wouldn’t bealone with whatever it is that’s happening. “Marla!” I call, louder this time.
    And of course it’s Marla who appears, pushing my door open when she hears her name. Her eyes are rimmed in pink. It’s from crying, although there was a period of time a few months ago where Eleanor was sporting that look on purpose. Someone told her pink eye shadow was in. She didn’t believe us when we said it looked weird.
    Same went for the black eye shadow phase, when it constantly looked like she had been punched in the face.
    â€œWe do our best to learn stuff without Mom, you know?” Astrid said when I was making fun of Eleanor. It shut me right up, that’s for sure. I almost tell Marla that I’m thinking about all this right now, but it’s not the right thing to say, and I know it. She’s sad and I’m freaked out and exhilarated, and our sisters will be home any minute, so I need to get out what’s happened now so that I can fight the impulse to tell Eleanor and Astrid that I broke the rules.
    â€œI did it,” I say. I can’t put words to the specifics, so I take her hand and try to pull her into the closet.
    â€œStop! What are you doing? Don’t grab at me!” Marla has a hitch in her voice, confirming the crying she’s been doing since I left her with Mom. Between Marla and Mom, we could fill all of Blue Lake with tears.
    Of course the lake down the street is called Blue Lake.As Astrid’s always saying, most people in the world have a serious lack of imagination, and I guess New Hampshire is no exception.
    Meanwhile, I haven’t cried at all. I couldn’t fill a thimble, let alone a whole lake. I considered doing it when we moved, but decided I didn’t really need to.
    â€œAre you okay?” Marla says. I’m not sure Marla’s ever asked me that. She’s usually very worried about her own big huge feelings, and not so much concerned about anyone else’s. A little bit of me warms up inside, seeing her eyebrows all scrunched together.
    â€œSomething happened in my closet,” I say.
    â€œNo,” Marla says with some force, as if she could change what’s already happened by saying No with enough feeling behind it. “You’re not anything special. Your closet’s not anything special. I don’t know what you think you saw, but it probably wasn’t real, and you should probably forget all about it.” Even Marla knows how flat her argument sounds. In the pause after her words, I reach out a hand and put it on her shoulder, the way Eleanor might. Marla leaps away from me.
    She doesn’t leave my room, though, doesn’t cover her ears with her hands and scream at me to shut up, which she has definitely done before, so I think I’m allowed to keep going, even if it stings a little.
    I’m trying to work out the feelings, inside and out, and I need to say them to one of my sisters. “It was warm and strange. It was better than what’s out here.”
    Marla doesn’t reply, but her eyes go wide and glassy, and I wonder if maybe she’s about to have another sobbing situation right here and now. Her fists are tight at her sides and I should stop talking, even if she isn’t telling me to.
    Maybe I’m a very selfish person or am so