Free Rebecca's Rashness by Lauren Baratz-Logsted

party-hosting manners but we did understand.
    "Can I offer you some refreshments?" Durinda offered, no doubt to make up for Georgia's rudeness. Also because she was Durinda.
    "What do you have?" the McG asked.
    Oops! We'd been so excited to see our friends from school, we'd forgotten to bring out the food and drinks!
    Quickly, we all did our best to rectify that problem. Soon, the long party table that Pete had brought out earlier in the day and that Mrs. Pete had put a red-white-and-blue paper tablecloth over was covered with a punch bowl, cups, and serving dishes with various salads: fruit, potato, three-bean, egg. Not all mixed together, of course.
    It did seem like an awful lot of salads and not enough other stuff, but we'd heard this was the type of food people served at outdoor parties in the summer. We'd read all about it in a magazine on entertaining.
    "We have this lovely mango punch," Durinda offered.
    "Did you save me a glass of pulp?" Rebecca asked, cracking her knuckles and scratching her belly.
    Oh, Rebecca.
    But before Durinda could serve any punch, a cab pulled up. Who could possibly be arriving in a cab?
    A moment later, our next-door neighbor the Wicket popped out, and we smelled the increasing aroma of fruitcake as the human toadstool cautiously approached us.
    Who takes a cab just to go next door?
    Oh, right. We'd forgotten. We were talking about the Wicket.
    "Are your parents home for this party?" the Wicket said without greeting. "I would so love to see your dear mother again. Perhaps she's inside?"
    The Wicket made for the front door.
    "No," Annie said, racing to block the front door with her body.
    Six of us, all except Petal, raced to Annie's side. There was no way we'd let the Wicket in our house unsupervised. Who knew what she might do?
    "The party's out here," Durinda said.
    "En tire ly out here," Georgia said.
    "So if you have to use the bathroom—" Jackie started.
    "—we're afraid you'll have to go use your own," Marcia finished.
    "You could take a cab there," Rebecca said.
    "Would you like us to call one for you now?" Zinnia offered.
    Petal would have said something, but she was still busily driving her car. Beep-beep!
    "Fine," the Wicket said, looking defeated. "I'll stay out here."
    She went over to the food table, picked up a blue fork, and began eating her own fruitcake.
    "Why don't you start the barbecue, dear?" Mrs. Pete suggested to Pete. "That man who's climbing the walls looks like he might be getting hungry, and that bouncing girl does too."
    "Sounds like a plan," Pete said gamely. "What am I barbecuing again?"
    "Fish dogs," Mrs. Pete said. "It was Zinnia's idea."
    "Ah, right," Pete said, still surprisingly gamely.
    He tried to light the grill, but it wouldn't light.
    "That's funny," he said. "I'm sure I'm doing it right. The instructions for the matches are right on the bottom. It says clearly 'Close cover and strike match,' and that's what I'm doing here."
    "They look like they might be wet," Marcia pointed out.
    "That's my fault," Petal said, pulling her car to a stop. "When I saw them on the counter I got scared. Children aren't supposed to play with matches, so I doused them in water. Carl the talking refrigerator helped me; robot Betty too. I hope no one minds too very much. Bye!"
    And off Petal went again.

    "This stinks! " Rebecca said. "Today's supposed to be a celebration of me and now we can't properly barbecue the main course?"
    It was then, as Frank Freud climbed the walls and the Wicket ate fruitcake and the McG and the Mr. McG made goo-goo eyes at each other and Mandy bounced and Petal beeped and Will Simms stood there being just-in-general wonderful and the rest of us stood around too, that Rebecca raised both hands in frustration and pointed all ten fingers at the grill.
    Fire flew from her fingertips.

TEN
    Fire flew from her fingertips.
    You're not imagining things.
    Yes, we really did just say that.
    And we said it because it's what happened.
    The fire that flew