Epic Fail by Claire LaZebnik

at this school. Did you girls know that James Bryan’s kids also go to Coral Tree? And George McGill’s and Beatrice Reilly’s and—” Before she could finish her recitation of all the celebrities—a couple of whom I’d never even heard of—whose kids were, supposedly, no different from the other students as far as she was concerned, Kaitlyn came rushing in and hurled herself at Mom, wailing, “Layla pushed me!”
    “I didn’t push her!” yelled Layla, from right behind. “She crossed over onto my side of the room—after I had told her she couldn’t—so I just gently made her move away! She’s such a baby!”
    “IT! WASN’T! GENTLE!” Kaitlyn screamed, turning and standing on her tiptoes so she could shout it right in Layla’s face.
    My mother sank against the doorjamb. “Do you have any idea how stressful it is to have a hard day at work and then come home to this  . . . ?”
    “It’s not my fault,” Kaitlyn said, and burst into tears. “She’s so mean to me!”
    “Could you guys continue this somewhere else?” I asked, with a meaningful nudge at my history binder. Kaitlyn and Layla were always going at it like this, and now that they had to share a room—which they hadn’t at our old house—the battles were constant. I was sick of the noise.
    Juliana put aside her books and got up from her bed. “I’ll take care of it, Mom,” she said. “You go eat.” My mother thanked her and happily disappeared. Jules turned to Kaitlyn. “If you promise not to bother Elise, you can hang out in our room for a little while. Would you like that?”
    Kaitlyn happily flung herself on Juliana’s bed and Layla shrugged. “Good riddance,” she said and left.
    “Can I sleep in here, too?” Kaitlyn asked, snuggling into a pillow.
    “No,” I said, but Juliana patted her on the head and said, “We’ll see.”
    A little while later I left to grab a snack and ran into my dad who was exiting the kitchen.
    “Just keeping your mother company while she had some dinner,” he explained. “She’s been telling me stories about the parents at Coral Tree. An entitled group, to say the least—more money than sense, as the saying goes.” He hooked his arm in mine. “This is a strange new world we’ve found ourselves in, my friend.”
    “No kidding.”
    “Your mother also told me that you and Juliana are already connected to a very ‘in’ group of kids. I’m glad you’re making friends, Lee-Lee, but don’t get too caught up in the social whirl—remember you’re working toward a scholarship, something these other kids probably don’t have to worry about.”
    “Don’t worry,” I said, and grinned at him. “My brain has yet to be corroded by the SoCal sunshine.”
    “Yet? Let’s aim for never, shall we?”
    I nodded. “I’m basically done with homework for the night. Want to do the crossword puzzle with me?” We liked to do the New York Times crossword puzzle together when we had time.
    His face lit up. “Absolutely.”
    A few minutes later we were settled in his office. As I studied the clues, I said, “Thanks for waiting. I know you could do it much faster without me.”
    “Not true.”
    I was sitting on the arm of his big office chair. I rested my cheek against his thinning hair. “Dad, it’s obvious you have it all done in your head before I even say a word. You give me hints so I feel like I’m getting the answers—but it’s all you.”
    He shrugged and smoothed out the paper—the only man left in America who didn’t read the news online. “One day, Elise, you’re going to outstrip me at everything, even crossword puzzles. And I won’t mind one bit.”
    We had visitors for dinner Thursday night: my mother’s brother and his family.
    Uncle Mike had a Hollywood-based catering company. Aunt Amy managed the business end. Their daughter, Diana, was three months younger than me.
    When we lived in Massachusetts, we saw them only about once a year, but I always liked Diana, who was