Rules for Secret Keeping by Lauren Barnholdt Page A

have taken off for their art class, I reach down and carefully slide the note up from under the table and back into my bag. Middle school so far? Um, pretty much a disaster.

WHAT DOES ONE BRING TO A sleepover at the house of the-most-popular-girl-in-school-who-might-like-your-crush when one is trying to make a good impression? You’d think it wouldn’t be that hard to figure out, right? You throw some pajamas and a toothbrush in a bag, and you’re good to go.
    But on the way out of school, while I was walking to my bus, I ran into Emma and she said, “See you tonight, I’ll text you the address. And don’t forget to bring a karaoke outfit!” Then she kissed me on both cheeks(!!) and was gone.
    A karaoke outfit? I have no clue
what
she is talking about.
    So now I’m home, and I have pulled every single thing out of my closet, including all my bags, because now evenmy tote bags don’t look right. I mean, I can’t exactly show up at Emma’s house with all my stuff in a “ICheese” duffel, can I? (In my defense, it’s not even mine. Tom got it at some kind of food show he went to when he was working in the food industry. Tom’s had a lot of different jobs. He works at the phone company now, although I’m not exactly sure what he does there.)
    I survey the mess in front of me and decide there’s only one thing to do.
    â€œTaylor!” I scream. “I need you!”
    â€œWhat?” she rushes into my room, her cell phone to her ear. “What is it
now
?” Wow. That’s really not very friendly. And what does she mean by “now”? I hardly ever ask Taylor for help. Only, like, once a week. Or maybe twice or three times.
    â€œI need help packing for my sleepover,” I say.
    â€œOh.” She tells whoever’s on the phone she has to go, then slaps the phone shut. She looks at the big jumble of clothes, shoes, and bags that’s littering the bedroom floor.
    â€œIt’s not my faullllttt,” I whine before she can say anything. “I don’t know what to brinnnngg.”
    â€œTo Daphne’s?” Taylor asks. “You go there all the time.”
    â€œNo, to Emma’s.”
    â€œWho’s Emma?”
    â€œEmma is this girl who goes to my school, she wentto Kennedy, and she’s very popular and very cool and she has long red curly hair and she’s having a sleepover and she said to bring a karaoke outfit do you EVEN KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS?” Wow. I’m really starting to get myself all worked up, which I don’t think is good for my skin. Or my eyebrows. Also, I hope the fact that Emma might like Jake isn’t important when it comes to my fashion choices. I cannot tell Taylor about that situation, because Taylor doesn’t even know that
I
like Jake. The only person who knows about
that
is Daphne.
    â€œFirst of all, you need to calm down,” Taylor says. “You’re freaking out.” Her hands are flying over her phone, texting away. Probably to the person she just hung up with. Which was probably Ryan. They’re usually in constant contact.
    â€œOkay,” I say, sitting down on my bed. I don’t feel so good. I wonder if maybe I should put my head between my legs or something, like I had to do that time I broke my wrist and almost fainted at the hospital.
    â€œNow,” Taylor says. “You cannot bring that ‘I heart cheese’ bag; that’s just offensive.”
    â€œCheese is offensive?”
    â€œNo, bringing that bag to someone’s house is offensive. It’s like you’re saying you don’t care about their opinion one little bit.”
    â€œAgreed,” I say. Even
I
knew that bag wasn’t going to cut it. And I kind of hate cheese. Although Charlie might have liked it; she had all those cheese sticks on her tray today.
    â€œYou can borrow my purple Adidas bag,” she says. “It’s cute, but casual, so it