Camo Girl by Kekla Magoon Page B

do.”
    â€œOh.” He digs his hands deep into his pockets, stares atme. I don’t think he noticed Z, so he’ll think I’m ditching him, but what else can I do?
    â€œI want to,” I whisper. “I just can’t.”
    â€œOkay,” he says. “Hey, let’s go somewhere else after school tomorrow. Just you and me.”
    My heart flutters. “Okay.”
    Bailey turns to catch up with the others, who’ve moved on down the street. All except for Millie, who lingers, looking after Z. And Rick, who lingers, looking after Millie.
    I meet her eyes, but I don’t know what I’m telling her, or what she’s asking. It’s been a long time since we could read each other’s thoughts. I don’t know what it means, her hesitation. It can’t have very much to do with loyalty.
    â€œSee you tomorrow,” I say, because maybe she just wants to be let off the hook, and anyway, I’m not about to ask her for anything. Not anymore.

CHAPTER 22
    A s soon as millie and rick turn their backs, I go after Z. I tail him all the way around the building and back into the library.
    He stalks through the children’s section and into the boys’ bathroom before I can catch up.
    I see what’s happening. He’s trying to be artful. I go someplace that he can’t; he goes someplace that I can’t.
    So I wait.
    I sink onto the hall carpet, rest my head on my knees. He has to come out eventually. I don’t know what I’ll say to him; I really don’t. I hope he saw that I was with Millie, at least. I’m the one in the middle, the one who’s supposed to hold us together, like I promised him I would. Maybe he’ll believe that I’m trying to put us back the way we were.
    We used to be neighbors, the three of us. Millie on thecorner, me next door, and Z the house after that. One big backyard, no fences. It feels like such a long time ago, but I remember. There were nights when Mom and Daddy would put out the grill, and they’d have Z’s parents and Millie’s parents over while we played. We’d camp out in Millie’s tree house, run through my sprinkler, or ride Z’s tire swing until we fell over, dizzy. A few summers ago, before everything changed, we all three spit in a bowl, then we pricked our fingers and dripped blood in it and wrote out the words
Best Friends Forever
and signed our names with a paintbrush.
    Now, it’s like we draw a line around ourselves: No trespassing. Millie put up glass and Z put up bricks and I put up brown paper, which seems like it’d be easy to tear, but it isn’t.
    â€œWhat are you dooooing?”
    I lift my head. A four- or five-year-old kid stands in front of me, with Kool-Aid lips and touseled hair.
    â€œWhatever I want.”
    He reaches out his grubby hands, as if to touch my face. I flinch away.
    â€œYou’re weird.”
    Now, there’s a revelation. “Will you tell the other boy in there that I said to come out please?”
    He stares at me.
    â€œYou have to pee, right?” I snap.
    Nodding, he uses his whole body weight to lever open the door. A few minutes later he comes back, skipping by me without so much as a glance.
    â€œHey, did you tell him?”
    He gazes at me, indignant. “No one’s in there. I went all by myself.”

CHAPTER 23
    â€œW ell, aren’t we moody tonight,” Grammie says.
    I pick at my mashed potatoes, glaring at her. “Leave me alone.” This day has been a total mess. I’m so ready to call it a wrap.
    â€œOkay, so . . . I guess dinner’s over.” Mom says. “Clear your plate.”
    â€œWhatever.” I start to get up.
    Grammie waves a fork at me. “You’d better get out of that funk, little missy. This here’s a happy homestead.”
    â€œYeah, well, the freak is feeling funky tonight.”
    Mom silences Grammie with a Look. “Honey, you know how I feel