Free The Kid in the Red Jacket by Barbara Park Page B

door, she turned around and sort of giggled. “This will be fun, being friends again. Won’t it?”
    I nodded. “Yeah. Fun.”
    She turned the doorknob and stopped again. “Hey, Howard?”
    “What, Molly?”
    “Does this mean that we can play house sometimes?”
    I rolled my eyes. “No, Molly.”
    “Oh.”
    As she left I laughed to myself. I guess I practically even got a kick out of her for a second.
    Two days later she showed up at the front door with Sally. I really panicked. I mean, it’s one thing to have one little kid hanging around; but I didn’t want my house turning into a day-care center or anything.
    When I opened the door, Molly was grinning from ear to ear. Sally was hiding behind her. I think the kid has a problem.
    “Hi, Howard Jeeper!” greeted Molly cheerfully. “This is my friend Sally. Do you remember her? She’s the one who’s afraid of big kids.”
    I peered around Molly’s back. “She’s handling it beautifully,” I said sarcastically.
    “I know,” Molly replied. “That’s because she signed up for karate lessons. She already knows how to put on the little white suit they give you. She can bow, too. Bow for him, Sally.”
    Sally started bowing. She bowed about ten times before I could think of something to say.
    “Er, nice bowing, Sally,” I managed at last.
    Sally bowed thank you.
    “We just came over to tell you that I won’t be playing with you today,” Molly explained. “See, Sally’s here to play with me, and we’re probably going to play some of that stuff that I like but you don’t. And I’d let you play anyway, except I don’t think you’d have a good time and Sally said she didn’t want you to.”
    I looked at Sally. She bowed.
    “That’s okay,” I said, feeling relieved. “I don’t need to play.”
    Molly thought it over. “Maybe you and I can play tomorrow or the next day. See, Sally,” she said, turning to her friend, “Howard Jeeper and I flock together sometimes, except that there are other times when I play with just you, and heplays with these big, mean guys. Right, Howard?”
    I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, right, Molly.”
    When you have a friend like Molly Vera Thompson, it’s easier to agree with her than to try to explain. Even if it means agreeing with something stupid.
    Molly continued. “And, anyway, we only like
some
of the same stuff, not all. Like we both like to color, don’t we, Howard? Oh, yeah, and we both don’t like chipmunks.”
    I just nodded.
    I’m still not sure this friendship won’t kill me. She’s a funny little girl and I admit I kind of like her; but I still might end up dead.

 
        10    Ollie called after school. He wanted to come over. He didn’t even hint around about it or anything. He just said, “Hi. Can I come over?”
    I stuttered for a second, then told him Gaylord was taking a nap. He wasn’t. I just told Ollie that.
    It’s not that I hate Ollie or anything. But after a while guys like Ollie can start to get on your nerves. I mean, when you first meet them, they seem funny and everything. But let’s face it, puttingan orange in your mouth isn’t really much to base a friendship on. Not when you’ve had the kind of friends that I have.
    Besides, after I got to know him better, I found out that Ollie Perkins and I don’t have that much in common when you get right down to it. He thinks a lot of stuff is cool that I don’t. Like when he went to this big shopping mall last week, he got his ear pierced. A lot of the guys thought it made him look real neat. Mostly I just thought it made him look like my mother.
    I still think he’s funny sometimes. Like yesterday at lunch he got a grape stuck in his nose. He kept holding his ears and trying to blow it out, but it wouldn’t come. Finally he had to go to the lavatory and stab it with a pencil. I’m still laughing over that one.
    Anyway, besides finding out more about Ollie, I found out some other stuff about living here too. Take my street,