neck, carefully hidden under her blouse, she was on her way up the stairs to her room when she began to realize that there was one thing that needed to be attended to first. A minor detour, but a very urgent one, had to be made immediately. The problem was that she was suddenly terribly hungry. She swallowed hard. She was, in fact, absolutely ravenous. Hungrier probably than she'd ever been in her entire life. Which actually wasn't too surprising, under the circumstances. Coming that close to being eaten alive was probably enough to make anyone hungry. Changing course, Xandra headed for the kitchen. For the kitchen first and foremost and for something substantial and solidly comforting to eat.
But a moment later, back downstairs and approaching the door, she became aware that the kitchen was already occupied. Occupied, judging by the sound of the voices, by a particular sibling and some of her friends. Along with such kitchen noises as the clatter and clank of plates and glasses and the slamming of the refrigerator door, she was hearing wave after wave of teenage chatter and laughter. Her hand was on the doorknob and she was steeling herself to join a bunch of giggling, shrieking teenage refrigerator raiders when a different sound forced her to back off entirely.
The new voice was a younger one and easily recognizable. High-pitched and as cutesy as a movie star kid's, the voice had to be Gussie's. Xandra winced. If the little rat hadn't already tattled about being shaken and yelled at, shewould be sure to the moment Xandra showed up. Now that she had a large adoring audience, she'd be sure to whine about how she'd been mistreated. Xandra paused, undecided, and then gave up. Even if she only so much as dropped by for a moment to grab an apple or a cookie, things were certain to become horribly embarrassing. Hungry and angry, Xandra turned away, crept up the back stairs and headed for her room.
She was nearly there, passing the room of one of the twin siblings, when an alternative to immediate starvation occurred to her. The room belonged to the twin named Nicholas—one of the two siblings who were not only great at all sorts of athletics but also famous for their looks. Bulging with muscles, with mouths full of shiny white teeth and heads covered with thick curly hair, they looked, according to some of the girls at Carter Academy, like Greek gods. As far as Xandra was concerned the Greek-god stuff was ridiculous. Besides, she really resented the fact that she never could tell whether girls she knew, like Marcie and her friends, really liked her, or whether they were only being nice to her now and then because they were hoping she might introduce them to her “Greek-god” siblings.
But at the moment, the most interesting thing about this particular twin was that he had a tendency to collect a lot of other things besides sport trophies and stupid girlfriends. Nothing as fascinating as Quincy's exotic fish, actually, but some other fairly interesting junk, including, for instance, one or two of every kind of candy bar known to the civilized world.
Xandra had known about the candy bar collection ever since one day the summer before. She'd been hanging out inNicholas's room after he and Nelson, the other twin, had gone, as usual, to some sort of ball game. She hadn't exactly been snooping. At least that wasn't how she thought of it. Just checking out some of Nicholas's other more or less interesting collections, such as all kinds of books about Sherlock Holmes and other famous detectives. And she had just happened to come across, at the back of his closet, a huge box full of candy bars. Not just the wrappers—the bars themselves. A really big box full of all kinds of candy bars.
Why would anyone collect that many candy bars? But another question had occurred to her on that day, and that was whether Nicholas kept careful track of his collection. Careful enough to know if one was missing. She hadn't quite gotten up her nerve
But a moment later, back downstairs and approaching the door, she became aware that the kitchen was already occupied. Occupied, judging by the sound of the voices, by a particular sibling and some of her friends. Along with such kitchen noises as the clatter and clank of plates and glasses and the slamming of the refrigerator door, she was hearing wave after wave of teenage chatter and laughter. Her hand was on the doorknob and she was steeling herself to join a bunch of giggling, shrieking teenage refrigerator raiders when a different sound forced her to back off entirely.
The new voice was a younger one and easily recognizable. High-pitched and as cutesy as a movie star kid's, the voice had to be Gussie's. Xandra winced. If the little rat hadn't already tattled about being shaken and yelled at, shewould be sure to the moment Xandra showed up. Now that she had a large adoring audience, she'd be sure to whine about how she'd been mistreated. Xandra paused, undecided, and then gave up. Even if she only so much as dropped by for a moment to grab an apple or a cookie, things were certain to become horribly embarrassing. Hungry and angry, Xandra turned away, crept up the back stairs and headed for her room.
She was nearly there, passing the room of one of the twin siblings, when an alternative to immediate starvation occurred to her. The room belonged to the twin named Nicholas—one of the two siblings who were not only great at all sorts of athletics but also famous for their looks. Bulging with muscles, with mouths full of shiny white teeth and heads covered with thick curly hair, they looked, according to some of the girls at Carter Academy, like Greek gods. As far as Xandra was concerned the Greek-god stuff was ridiculous. Besides, she really resented the fact that she never could tell whether girls she knew, like Marcie and her friends, really liked her, or whether they were only being nice to her now and then because they were hoping she might introduce them to her “Greek-god” siblings.
But at the moment, the most interesting thing about this particular twin was that he had a tendency to collect a lot of other things besides sport trophies and stupid girlfriends. Nothing as fascinating as Quincy's exotic fish, actually, but some other fairly interesting junk, including, for instance, one or two of every kind of candy bar known to the civilized world.
Xandra had known about the candy bar collection ever since one day the summer before. She'd been hanging out inNicholas's room after he and Nelson, the other twin, had gone, as usual, to some sort of ball game. She hadn't exactly been snooping. At least that wasn't how she thought of it. Just checking out some of Nicholas's other more or less interesting collections, such as all kinds of books about Sherlock Holmes and other famous detectives. And she had just happened to come across, at the back of his closet, a huge box full of candy bars. Not just the wrappers—the bars themselves. A really big box full of all kinds of candy bars.
Why would anyone collect that many candy bars? But another question had occurred to her on that day, and that was whether Nicholas kept careful track of his collection. Careful enough to know if one was missing. She hadn't quite gotten up her nerve
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