Who Won the War? by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor Page B

and the teacher had written at the bottom, Jake could be a better student if he tried, but his temper and impulsiveness sometimes get in the way.
    “You'd better take that along,” said Josh. “Who knows what else you've got in your desk? Probably something even worse.”
    “We should move the desks!” Jake said in despair. He was busy loading up his arms. “Take any money you've got lying around—all your state quarters, Josh. Your stamp collection, too.”
    “And don't forget all your baseball caps,” said Josh. “Eddie would love to get her hands on those.”
    They grabbed jeans and shorts from their closet, then pushed the remaining clothes as far back in the corner as possible, so that the girls' clothes wouldn't touch theirs when they hung them up.
    There were footsteps on the stairs, and the twins left their bedroom just as Mrs. Malloy and Mrs. Hatford appeared at the top.
    “Let me help you with the sheets,” Mrs. Malloy said.
    “If you'd like,” said Mrs. Hatford, taking a stack of pillowcases out of the closet and handing them to the girls' mother. “If you could put fresh sheets on the beds in the twins' room, I'll make sure we have plenty of towels in the bathroom.”
    Wally and his brothers fled back downstairs andfound themselves alone with the Malloy girls in the kitchen.
    “Talk about a bummer!” Eddie said at last.
    “I'd rather turn over my room to a hippopotamus,” said Jake.
    “Thanks for nothing,” said Eddie.
    “Are you guys going to start fighting again?” asked Peter from the doorway, his hands on his hips. “ I think this could be fun!”
    Everyone looked at Peter as though he had just stepped out of a spaceship. Fun? Having girls in their bedroom? Using the same bathroom, too? Having to get up in the morning and face each other across the breakfast table?
    But there was some truth in what Peter was saying, Wally had to admit. The chief offenders were Jake and Eddie. As long as they were fighting, it was hard for anyone else to get along.

Eleven

Stop Complaining!
    “W ell, I guess we're stuck,” Beth said. “We'll have to make the best of it.”
    “Yeah!” said Peter. “No more fighting!”
    “So who's fighting?” asked Jake. “I just don't want them sleeping in my bed, that's all.”
    “Don't worry,” said Eddie. “I wouldn't sleep in your bed for a million dollars. I'll be on the air mattress, you can bet.”
    “It must be awful at home,” said Beth. “Mom said Dad told her it was ninety-six degrees in our upstairs. By tomorrow, all the food in the refrigerator will be spoiled. Ugh.”
    “It's supposed to be a hundred and four here tomorrow,” said Josh. “What are we going to do today?”
    “We could trap flies in the sun and put a magnifying glass on them and watch them go crazy,” said Eddie.
    “That's cruel!” Caroline declared. “Besides, I don't want anything to do with bugs.”
    “At least we can go swimming if it gets unbearable,” said Beth.
    “Not!” said Eddie. “We packed our bathing suits, remember. We thought we'd be home by tonight.”
    “I know!” said Peter. “We could make peanut butter and banana milk shakes! And bake cookies!”
    “It's too hot for cookies, Peter,” said Beth.
    “We could take Caroline's school picture and make copies of it at the library and turn them into Wanted posters at the post office,” said Jake.
    “Not!” said Caroline.
    “We could make lemonade and sell it at a stand out front,” Beth suggested.
    “We've tried that, but people don't come down our block much,” said Wally. “Monopoly?”
    “Bor-ing!” said Eddie.
    What happened was that when the bedrooms were finally ready, with sleeping bags on the floor of Wally's room, fresh sheets on the beds in the twins' bedroom, and an air mattress there on the floor, the girls shut themselves up in the boys' bedroom for the afternoon, sprawled out on the beds, with books and magazines for company, and Wally and his brothers spent the afternoon