Free Friends of a Feather by Lauren Myracle

number.
    â€œI have an idea,” I say after he answers.
    â€œYou do?”
    â€œYeah. Do you want to know what it is?”
    â€œUm, sure.”
    â€œBoth,” I say. “We could do both.”
    â€œHuh?”
    â€œWhat we were talking about! Sometimes it could be just you and me, but other times we could do stuff with everyone. Well, maybe not Taylor. Or maybe Taylor. We could decide on the day of.” I take a breath. “What do you think?”
    I’m nervous, but Joseph doesn’t make me wait for long.
    â€œI think yes!” he says.
    â€œYay!”
    I can hear how happy he is, and I’m happy, too. I feel happier than I’ve felt all week. And who knows? Playing with John and Chase and the others might be fun. It probably will be, with Joseph as part of the group.
    Now that I’ve figured things out, I’m ready to move on.
    â€œAre we going to tell Lexie about catching Fernando?” I ask.
    â€œShe’ll never believe us,” Joseph says.
    â€œIf we both tell her, she’ll have to.” My chest feels looser. I feel more like
me
. “I agree that she’ll be all
nuh-uh
about it, though.”
    â€œWe need to figure out how to catch her unawares,” Joseph says.
    â€œA bird ambush!” I say. “Only without birds!”
    â€œâ€˜No birds were harmed in this ambush,’” Joseph says in a TV commercial voice.
    I laugh. I settle into the fort of pillows and stuffed animals on my bed and wiggle around till I’m good and comfortable. “So. What, exactly, is our plan?”

CHAPTER TEN
    O n Friday, before morning meeting, Joseph gives me a Ziploc bag of chocolate-covered potato chips.
    â€œThanks!” I say. I’d forgotten about those chocolate-covered potato chips.
    â€œI’d hide them if I were you,” Joseph says in a spy voice. He gestures at Chase, who is playing paper football with John, and at Hannah and Elizabeth, who are making bracelets in the crafts area. “If you don’t, everyone’s going to want one.”
    â€œSmart,” I say. “Oh, and here.” I hand him his red hat.
    â€œThanks.” He looks at it, and I wonder if he’s thinking what I’m thinking, which is that here he is, not wearing his hat, and no one has said a thing.
    He puts his hat in his desk.
Cool beanie-weenies
, I think. That leads to me thinking,
Cool benis-weenises
, but no, that is not a good think about, because what if I accidentally say it out loud?
    We have eleven minutes of free choice before the day officially starts. Maybe more, because every so often Mrs. Webber comes in late. One morning I saw her in the teacher’s lounge with Mr. Glasgow, the other second-grade teacher. They had Starbucks cups in their hands, and they were both off topic since they were talking to each other instead of teaching their classes.
    But Joseph and I have at least eleven minutes to sneak-attack Lexie and tell her about Fernando while she’s putting her stuff in her cubby. We want to tell her first off, because lots of mornings she has drowsy eyes when she first gets to school. Sometimes she shows up with a bump in her ponytail, which means she slept too late and had to hurry to get ready for the day.
    I know about bumps in ponytails because of Winnie and Sandra. Neither of them would allow a bump to live in her ponytail, never-not-ever.
    Joseph grabs my arm. “She’s coming. She’s coming!”
    I glance at the door. She is! She doesn’t have drowsy eyes, but she does have the last bite of a Pop-Tart in her hand. That means she had to eat breakfast on the run. That’s a good sign.
    â€œHi, Lexie,” Joseph says.
    â€œHi, Ty,” I say. I whack my forehead. “I mean, hi, Lexie!”
    Joseph laughs, because we just started and already I’ve messed up.
Not
cool benis-weenises!
    â€œYou don’t know your own name?” Lexie says, eating the final crusty