Free The Lemonade War by Jacqueline Davies Page B

quiz—the
only
time he'd ever gotten every word right—to find that Jessie had won a statewide poetry-writing contest. He'd thrown his paper into the trash without even telling his mom. What was the point?
    Evan didn't know how, but somehow Jessie'd found a way to earn more than one hundred and three dollars. She was going to beat him. And Megan Moriarty knew all about it. And she would tell everyone else. All the girls would know. Paul would know. And Ryan. And Adam and Jack.
    Scott Spencer would know.
Can you believe it? He lost to his little sister. The one who's going to be in our class. What a loser!
    "You know what?" he said, pushing past her. "Forget it! Just forget I said anything. The war is on. O-N. Prepare to die."

Chapter 10
Malicious Mischief
malicious mischief () n. The act of purposely destroying the property of someone else's business.
    Jessie was all in knots. Evan was madder than ever at her, and she couldn't figure out why. He had said, "Do you want to call off the war?" and she had said, "Sure, let's call off the war." Or
something
like that. That's what she'd meant to say. That's what she'd
wanted
to say.
    But what had she
really
said? She'd mentioned Megan. Oh! She'd almost spilled the beans about Megan giving her the $104. But she hadn't! She'd kept her mouth shut, just in time.
    Jessie smiled, remembering that.
    So why had Evan acted like that? What was the matter with him?
    Jessie lay down on her bed. The world was a confusing place, and she needed Evan to help her figure it out. If this is what fourth grade was going to be like, she might as well just give up now.
    And there was something else that was tying her up in knots. That two hundred and eight dollars—it wasn't
really
hers. Megan had given it to her to make a donation. She hadn't given it to Jessie the way Evan's friends had given their money to him. (That still made her so mad when she thought about it. Oh, she wanted to get even with him for saying she didn't have friends!) So even though it looked like she had two hundred and eight dollars in her lock box, only half of that was money she could honestly call her own.
    Still ... if push came to shove and she needed it all to win—
    Sure, she'd use it all! This was a war!
    But if she pretended that all the money was hers—
    Hey, what if Evan has even more than that?
    So if she lost, even
with
Megan's money—
    Gulp!
    Jessie hadn't thought of that. If she lost, even with two hundred and eight dollars. If she lost.
Oh my gosh. Winner takes all.
She would lose all of Megan's money to Evan. How could Jessie explain that to her friend?
You see, I took all the money you earned to help rescue animals and I lost it to my brother, who's going to buy an iPod.
Megan would hate her. All the girls who were friends with Megan would hate her. And Evan already hated her. So that was that. Goodbye, fourth grade.
    She couldn't use Megan's money to try to win the bet. It was too risky. But did she have enough to win on her own?
    Jessie felt desperation rise in her throat. How much money did Evan have? She had to find out.
    Jessie tiptoed upstairs to the attic office. She listened at the closed door. Her mother was on the phone. Then Jessie snuck downstairs. Evan was watching TV in the family room. Like a whisper,
she crept back upstairs. And into Evan's room.
    There was a strict rule in the Treski house: No one was allowed in anyone else's room without an
express invitation.
That was the term. It meant that Jessie had to say, "Evan, can I come into your room?" and Evan had to say, "Yes," before she put even one toe over the line.
    So even though Evan's door was wide open, just crossing the threshold was a direct violation that carried a fine of one dollar. But that was the least of Jessie's concerns.
    She snuck over to Evan's bookshelf and picked up a carved cedar box—Evan's chosen souvenir from the family summer vacation. The orange-red wood of the box had a scene etched into the