Free Squishy Taylor and the Bonus Sisters by Ailsa Wild Page B

Which is kind of fair enough, since I made that brilliant mess in Vee’s bag this morning. But that was fair enough, because Vee drew a moustache on my face with permanent marker while I was asleep last night. I got it off before school – but I had a red moustache until recess from the scrubbing.
    Anyway. Whatever. I climb into the middle bunk between the twin-generated-silence and lie there. In the stupid triple-bunk-bed Alice built before I moved in.
    I’m staying awake, thinking about my secret.
    After ages, the line of light under our door goes out. I hear Dad and Alice’s bedroom door close. Jessie and Vee are both doing sleep-breathing.
    I slowly peel back the covers and tiptoe into the kitchen. It looks as though Dad or Alice discovered the secret stash of garlic bread and meatballs I hid under the table, but it’s fine, they’re just sitting in the top part of the bin. I grab an old take-away container and pile them in. Then I lift the key off the hook and ease open the front door.
    When I get out into the corridor, I realise I don’t just have to hide from Dad and Alice. I have to hide from every single adult in the building. Grown-ups take the responsibility of being grownups very seriously. Especially if they see kids in pyjamas out in the middle of the night.
    Luckily, no-one spots me and I make it to the car park just fine. I tap gently on the boy’s door. ‘ Room service ,’ I say.
    As he opens up, I hear the garage roller-door begin to beep and rise. Headlights shine down into the car park. He stumbles backwards and I follow him in, closing the door behind us.
    ‘Thanks,’ he says as I hand him the food. ‘Hope they didn’t notice the light.’ He shoves a meatball into his mouth and we listen to the car pull up. We sit on his sleeping-bag with our backs to the wall.
    ‘What’s your name?’ I ask.
    ‘John,’ he says, with his mouth full. ‘John Smith.’
    ‘Why are you here?’ I ask.
    ‘I’m hiding,’ he says, taking a bite of garlic bread.
    ‘No way!’ I say sarcastically.
    ‘From the police.’
    I stop being sarcastic and do a question-face instead.
    ‘I stole a tram,’ he says. ‘When the tram driver got out, I jumped in and drove it all the way to St Kilda. Now they want to put me in prison.’
    ‘They don’t put kids in prison,’ I say.
    I wish I’d stolen a tram.
    I think for a little bit.
    ‘Next time I’ll do a secret knock, OK?’ I say. ‘Don’t open to anyone except me.’
    ‘OK,’ he says. ‘What will it sound like?’
    I make up a really complicated knock that nobody else would ever do.
    He shakes his head. ‘I didn’t get that. Do it again?’ he asks.
    But I can’t remember it. I make up another one, but then I can’t remember that either. It makes us both laugh. Finally we agree on a pretty quick and simple tappety-tap-tap-tap .
    I stand up.
    ‘Don’t tell anyone I’m here,’ he says.
    ‘Course.’
    ‘Will you bring food tomorrow night?’ he asks. He suddenly sounds lonely.
    ‘I’m going to bring you so much food ,’ I grin.
    But when I open the door to leave, Vee is standing on the other side.

‘What are you doing ?’ Vee hisses.
    John Smith is hiding behind me but he’s pretty obvious. There’s no point pretending.
    ‘John Smith, this is my stepsister, Vee. Vee, this is John. He stole a tram and now he’s on the run from the police.’
    ‘You did not steal a tram,’ Vee says, but she sounds admiring. I can tell she wishes she stole a tram too.
    John nods.
    ‘I’ve been looking after him,’ I declare, ‘and I’ve promised to protect him with my life.’
    I know that’s not exactly what I promised, but John doesn’t seem to mind and Vee looks a tiny bit impressed.
    ‘I’ll protect him too,’ she says.
    I want to say no and keep John Smith all to myself. I start to shake my head.
    ‘ With my life ,’ Vee adds, with her chin out.
    I figure if she’s not with me, she’s against me. ‘You can protect him,’ I say