Free My Little Phony - 13 by Lisi Harrison Page B

crickets left a microscopic trail of insect poo along her hair part, like a stylist applying highlights.
Karma!
Claire’s inner voice screamed at her as she doubled over and held her knees, breathing deeply into what their yoga teacher called the “child’s pose.”
    “Claire!” Layne’s voice sounded from above as her sneakers squeaked down the ladder.
    “Are they on me?” Claire asked, swatting herself hysterically.
    “Oh no…” Layne gasped. Claire looked up just as Layne hopped off the bottom rung of the ladder. But one of her carabiners had snagged the ladder’s rung. It toppled like a silver domino. In the silence of the night, the crash sounded louder than a foghorn.
    “Layne!” Claire shouted at her friend, who was trapped beneath it. “Are you okay?”
    “Hurry!” Layne shouted back. The bugs were scurrying in opposite directions.
    Taking a deep breath, Claire bent down and, as quickly as she could she—
yuck, yuck, yuck, yuck, yuck, yuck, yuck, yuck!
—picked up the bugs and tossed them into the habitat before she could feel their creepy-crawly little legs poke her through her mittens. She locked the habitat, then helped disentangle Layne from the ladder. Together, the two propped it back up against the house.
    “Do you think anyone heard?” Layne asked, opening her eyes wide as she scanned the backyard for movement.
    “All the lights are still off,” Claire pointed out. “So I think we’re clear.”
    “Phew! Although,” Layne said, holding up one yellow-gloved finger in the air, “I would like to point out that your use of
cer-ooooo
in that situation was not entirely correct.”
    Claire shook her head as Layne slowly but surely started back up the rungs. When she finally reached the top, she pushed on the windowpane. Once. Twice. “Cer-ooo, cer-ooo!” she whisper-screamed.
    “Is someone in there?” Claire cried out, the muscles in her legs coiling, getting ready to bolt.
    “It’s locked.”
    Claire tilted her head up. The Big Dipper shone brightly in the sky like a bunch of judgmental eyes. “Are you sure?”
    “Yeah, you want me to punch through the window?” Layne sounded excited. “These gloves are pretty thick. I think I could do it.”
    “Layne! No! I’ve got it covered,” Claire said. “Don’t go anywhere.”
    Pressing her back against the stone wall, Claire inched her way along the perimeter of the Block Estate. Shrubs snatched at her thighs, and tree branches smashed her in the face. She crab-slid beneath a dry evergreen.
    “Achoo!” she sneezed.
    “Good job!” Layne called softly from around the corner. Instead of “Bless you” or “Gesundheit,” Layne liked to say,“Good job,” as in
Good job getting those germs out of your nose
. Claire rolled her eyes and shrank further into the bushes.
    She made it to the Blocks’ large veranda with the giant, carved-out double doors. She perched behind a large potted plant and pressed her hand against the house’s stone façade. A gray brick popped open and revealed a digital keypad. She paused in front of the alarm. It had been so long since she’d used it. What was it again?
    Massie’s birthday?
    Or Bean’s?
    Was it the date Massie became an official Glossip Girl black card member?
    Guilt and adrenaline made her hands shake as she pressed 1–1–2–9.
    The alarm let out a loud
BEEEEP
… then DISARMED flashed across the screen in neon red letters.
    Tentatively, Claire pushed the door open.
    Silence.
    She opened the door a little more.
    More silence.
    Claire stepped into the vestibule of the Block house. There was no one in sight. Quietly, she tiptoed up the plush steps to the second floor. Looking both ways when she reached the second-floor landing, she scurried down the hall and into Massie’s room. The lights were out, and she didn’t dare turn them on. She stepped inside—and directly into something solid… and Massie-shaped.
    “Massie!” Claire whisper-gasped, the smell of Passion Fruitfilling her