Addison Addley and the Things That Aren't There by Melody DeFields McMillan

soy.
    Mrs. Wilson looked like she was going to strangle me. Her eyes bulged out of her head even more than Tiffany’s. “You mean to say that you put three-and-a-halfcups of soy
sauce
in that punch? No wonder my baby got sick!”
    I didn’t see what the big deal was.
    Tiffany came back into the classroom. She didn’t look sick anymore, except for the brown stuff on her shirt. Her face was shiny and red, just the way it always was. She looked like she was going to kill me.
    I coughed politely, the way Tiffany had taught us.
    â€œUm, aren’t you forgetting something?” I pointed out. “When did Tiffany get a chance to drink my punch? She must have been the one who broke into the party room at recess. The proof is on her shirt.” And in her stomach, I added to myself. Or at least it had been.
    I grinned. Success was sweet. Mrs. Wilson had been right about one thing: Look for the evidence. It will show up. It always does.

Chapter Fifteen
    Sam and I had a celebratory fishing trip at the creek that night. I took the trophy with me. After all, it wasn’t every day that I actually won something.
    Sam slapped me on the back. “You did really well today, really good, really well!” he said. He was practically bubbling over with excitement. “Thanks to you, we still got to have our party.”
    It really had been a good party. It seems that innocent little Tiffany hadn’t been so innocent after all. She had snuck into the party room and helped herself to some punch and cookies. Then she had helped herself to some money too. She was going to use it to bribe her friends to vote for her speech. Instead she had to put the money back and promise to pay forcleaning Becky’s dummy. She also had to apologize to the class.
    We got to have our pizza and a dance too. The only person I would have danced with was Becky’s dummy, but it smelled too much like my punch. Tiffany just sat in the corner and glared at everyone. I guess she felt stupid because she’d been caught in the act. She knew she’d screwed up, but she’d hated apologizing.
    I slept really well that night. There was something about watching Tiffany get what she deserved that made me feel kind of nice and sleepy, like the way I felt after I drank chamomile tea once when I was sick.
    I was surprised to see Mrs. Wilson waiting outside the classroom the next day after school. It wasn’t a great way to end my day.
    She demanded an apology from me. From me? What had I done wrong? All I’d done was make a little mistake with my fractions. And one of the ingredients. They were honest mistakes. I mean, who really cares if ½ times 3 is 1 ½ instead of 3 ½ ? Well, except for Tiffany. Her stomach cared. She shouldn’t have been so greedy in the first place. She was the one who’d gulped down the punch when she wasn’t even supposed to have been in that room. It wasn’t fair that I had to apologize.
    â€œWell, we’re waiting,” Mrs. Wilson said, tapping her big foot in its pointed brown shoe. Tiffany had popped up beside her.
    I swallowed hard and stared at Mrs. Wilson’s big foot. I thought about her sitting at the table in the astronomy club room, tapping her big hand before she voted for the new positions on the board. I thought about black holes and wormholes and things that weren’t there, like how I wished I weren’t there right then. I decided to take one for the team.
    â€œSorry, Tiffany,” I mumbled to the floor.
    Tiffany smiled a slow, sweet smile. “What was that?” she asked.
    I cleared my throat and said it again. “Sorry.”
    â€œAnd here,” I said quickly, before I changed my mind. I pulled the favorite speech trophy out of my backpack and shoved it at her. “You take this. You deserve it.”
    It was just a dumb cup. I didn’t need it. I knew I had really won the competition. Sometimes you’ve just gotta do