Free Sammy Keyes and the Skeleton Man by Wendelin Van Draanen

through all her rock star makeup, “Does
everybody
in your family have one of those?”
    Dot looks at me so I try out my Princess Nikki voice. “Every single one of us—even the cats.”
    Heather gives me a funny look. “The
cats?
”
    I grin. “Yeah, we’re raising leopards.”
    At first she thinks I’m serious, but then she starts laughing, and pretty soon we’re all busting up over the lamestjoke of the year. And when we’re all done laughing I say, “Cool earrings,” because she’s got on the
ugliest
earrings I’ve ever seen. They look like someone cut a circle out of an inner tube and glued on red marbles.
    Heather smiles real big. “Thanks!” She looks at me a little closer and says, “Your name’s Nikki? You’re all right.”
    Just then the doorbell rings and, sure enough, it’s Marissa. Heather says, “Well, well, Marissa. I didn’t think you’d show up without that loser friend of yours. What’s she doing tonight? Painting her shoes?”
    Marissa does a bit of the McKenze dance and looks around. “Wow, this is some party!”
    And it was. There were people everywhere. Heather’s house is kind of spread out and has lots of wood paneling and scrap metal sculptures hanging on the walls—copper windmills and birds and stuff like that. And the farther into the house we wandered, the more rooms there seemed to be, and every single one of them was packed with kids from school. I’m not talking just seventh graders. There were eighth graders, too.
Lots
of them.
    And part of me’s feeling kind of bad. Here are all these people, having a good time,
liking
Heather Acosta, and I’m the one person in the entire school that Heather hates. It doesn’t matter to them
why
she hates me; all they know is that Heather hates this girl named Sammy, and anyone who could give such a terrific party must be right. Not that it makes any sense; it’s just the way that kids who don’t think about things think.
    So I’m wandering around with Dot, looking at everyone eating Halloween cookies, feeling like a cat in a dog kennel,when all of a sudden Heather comes up behind me and says, “Hey, did you get some punch?”
    I hate to admit it, but I didn’t see her coming. And hearing Heather’s voice right there in my ear made me jump. On top of that, it was weird having Heather be
nice
to me, so after I get done jumping I kind of stand there batting my wings through the holes in my mask. “What?”
    She laughs. “C’mon. There’s punch and cookies and stuff in the kitchen. Want some?”
    I say, “Sure,” and then Princess Nikki kicks back into gear. “I’m starved!”
    Dot and Heather and I are all heading toward the kitchen, and I can tell from the way Heather’s looking at me that she’s ready to start asking me questions. So I say, “This is an awesome party, Heather. I can’t believe how many people are here. You must be really popular!”
    That makes her smile real big. And she’s about to say something like, No joke! when this lady comes out of the kitchen calling, “Heather! Heather, bring me some towels, would you? The punch spilled.”
    At first I thought this woman was something out of a weird sixties movie. She had hair the color of a new penny, and it swooped right over her left eyebrow, clear around her head, and into a monster beehive.
    And that was just her
head
. On her body she was wearing a hot pink scoop-neck blouse with sleeves that looked like little pink petticoats. And green spandex pants. I’m talking
lime
green. And on her feet were gold high heels with big fake jewels going across the tops.
    Then I noticed the dainty sapphire necklace that she waswearing, and it slowly dawned on me that this was not a woman in costume. This was Heather’s mom.
    So I’m standing there taking all this in, when Heather says, “C’mon.”
    I make myself quit staring at her mother and follow her down the hallway. And when Heather sees that Dot is coming with us she says, “Why don’t you go