Free Kelsey the Spy by Linda J Singleton

doesn’t involve you.”
    â€œIt will if you don’t return Kelsey’s notebook,” Ann Marie warns. “ Now .”
    â€œNo one tells me what to do,” Tyla scoffs. “I don’t even know you.”
    â€œAnd you don’t want to.” When Tori puts her hands on her hips and juts out her chin, she seems even taller and tougher. “We don’t like you upsetting our friend.”
    â€œKelsey’s an honorary Sparkler and one of my closest friends,” Tyla says in such a phony voice I want to vomit. “Can’t you see we were just joking around?”
    â€œKelsey isn’t laughing.” Ann Marie’s scowl deepens.
    â€œSome people need to grow a sense of humor.” Tyla rolls her eyes. “I wasn’t really going to read her notebook.”
    Ann Marie glares. “So you won’t mind giving it back.”
    â€œSure, sure.” Tyla flings the notebook at me.
    I hug it to my chest and turn to Ann Marie and Tori. “Thanks.”
    Ann Marie leans close to whisper in my ear. “Dump these glitter clones and sit with us.”
    I glance at Becca, hurt that she didn’t defend me. I don’t want to stay where I’m not welcome. But if I leave, I may never come back—the ultimate win for Tyla. I shake my head at Ann Marie. “I’m okay here.”
    â€œReally?” Tori scowls at the Sparklers.
    â€œIt’s just temporary.” I touch the borrowed crescent moon necklace I’m wearing. “I’m only here to help out with the fund-raiser. Next week I’ll go back to sitting at our table.”
    I watch Becca, hoping she’ll say I don’t have to be “temporary,” that I can sit with the Sparklers whenever I want. But she’s looking down at her lunch tray as if cafeteria food is fascinating.
    Ann Marie pats my shoulder. “Stop by my house soon. It’s been too long since you’ve been over. Mom was asking what’s up with you.”
    â€œI will,” I promise as I zip my notebook securely in my backpack.
    After Tori and Ann Marie leave, there’s an awkward silence at our table. Sparklers chew and sip drinks, their gazes sliding away from me as if I’ve turned into a Medusa and one look will turn them into stone.
    Finally Becca looks up from her tray and gives a nervous laugh.
    â€œOookay. Let’s get back to fund-raiser business.” She taps her pencil against her food tray and looks around the table. “I’ll start by making the booth schedule.”
    Conversation resumes like everything is fine, and the cafeteria noisily buzzes back to life too. But something has changed … me, I think. I’m an outsider among strangers. When lunch ends, I hurry away without saying good-bye to Becca.
    To avoid a repeat of the notebook keep-away game, I lock my notebook securely inside my locker, burying it beneath books and a sweater, then slam the locker shut.
    I’m still shaking like I’m suffering from PTSD: post-Tyla stress disorder. I can’t concentrate in my classes and mentally replay the lunchroom drama. My old friends stuck up for me, not my new ones. Not Becca.
    Why didn’t she try to help me? Does Tyla intimidate her that much? Or is she more loyal to the other girls than to me? She said I could trust her with my secrets—but can I trust her with my friendship?
    When my last class ends, Becca is waiting for me outside the door.
    Anger and hurt steam inside me. I can’t pretend that everything is okay.
    But before I can speak, Becca says, “I’m really, really, really sorry.”
    â€œYou should be,” I say as I walk away from her.
    â€œLet me explain.” She follows, hurrying beside me. “Please don’t be mad.”
    â€œFriends stick up for each other. You did nothing.” My backpack bounces on my back as I walk faster. “But it doesn’t matter now because Ann Marie and Tori