Spirit Week Showdown by Crystal Allen Page A

her. I’ve got to make them like me again, but how?
    I put my boots in the closet and notice last year’s boots all slumped over in the corner.
    Wait a minute.
    Those weren’t just regular boots. They were my lucky cowgirl boots, the only pink pair in Bluebonnet with a blue horseshoe burned into both sides at the heels. Mom bought them for me at a garage sale in Fort Worth. I hate knowing somebody else’s feet were ka-clunk ing around in them before mine. It’s hard making up adventures from used boots because they already come with their own boot stories.
    But I’ve got a fix for that. When people ask where I got my bubble-gum-colored two-steppers, I say I won them—in a hard-fought card game—on a horse and kangaroo ranch—in Australia! That sounds so much better than the truth, and it’s funnier, too!
    Two weeks after I got those boots, I found out they really were lucky! I was in church chewing gum and popped a bubble so loud that it woke everybodyup. I knew I was in big trouble, so I rubbed the horseshoes, hoping they were lucky ones. Dad scooted closer to me, and instead of taking me out of church he asked if I had another piece of gum!
    Another time I wore my lucky boots and found a five-dollar bill stuck to a fire hydrant. Right before summer, those boots got so tight that they left marks on my feet. But maybe if I curl my toes, I can still wear them. I sure need some good luck right now, and those boots are a guarantee!
    I reach down and rub the blue horseshoes.
    If there’s any luck still left in you, please help me get my friends back. And if there’s any luck still left after that, I’d really like to win those VIP tickets.
    Early Monday morning, I sit in my pajamas with one hand over my nose and the other in my lap as Mom eats her peanut butter–and-onion sandwich and brushes my hair. “How many braids this morning, Mya?” asks Mom.
    â€œOne big fat ponytail, please!”
    After she finishes, I rush upstairs and put on the thinnest pair of socks I’ve got and then tug on my old boots until my feet squeeze into them. I’ve got the perfect red-and-black bracelets for this outfit,even though the king of hearts probably doesn’t wear much jewelry.
    As I come downstairs, Nugget laughs at me. He’s wearing that dorky crown he got when we went to Burger King on his birthday, four years ago.
    â€œWhere’s the rest of your king costume?” I ask.
    â€œSolo says dressing up like kings and queens is lame, but I wanted to wear something, so I’m wearing this crown. Our costumes tomorrow are going to be boo-yang good, though.”
    â€œYou let Solo talk you out of wearing a cool costume? Fish would have never done that. You would have been dressed like King Henry or at least King Kong.”
    â€œLeave me alone, Mya. I know what I’m doing.”
    No he doesn’t. I know how much Nugget loves Spirit Week. He and Fish used to plan for days what they would wear.
    Mom calls to me. “Come here so I can put makeup on you, Sir King of Hearts!”
    I giggle as she makes my eyebrows thicker and gives me a mustache.
    â€œConnie is such a nice girl. I was taking out the trash, and she carried it out for me.”
    I stay quiet. Mean Connie’s got Mom fooled, but not me.
    â€œDone,” says Mom. I look in a mirror, and we giggle on our way to the door.
    Outside, Connie’s standing on the sidewalk, staring at me. “Nice outfit, Tibbs.”
    Mom waves. “Connie . . . I mean, queen of hearts, you look adorable!”
    â€œThank you, Mrs. Tibbs,” she says.
    â€œCome in for just a minute. I’ll put makeup on you, like I put on Mya,” says Mom.
    â€œOkay, but remember, the queen doesn’t have a mustache,” says Connie with a grin.
    Mom laughs as Connie follows her inside. She puts lipstick and mascara on the queen of hearts. “Okay, all done,” she says.
    â€œHow do I