Free My New Best Friend by Julie Bowe

line."
    She hands a note to each of us.
Do-Good Nymphs Dance Practice
When: Monday, after school
Where: Jenna's House
Who: All Do-Good Nymphs
(Attendance is required!!!)
    "Be sure to tell your parents you have to be there," Jenna tells us as we walk down the hall. "Oh, and Ida, you should come over to my house tomorrow so we can paint your box."
    I gulp. "Um ... I can't," I say. "I'm going to ... be busy." I glance at Stacey.
    "Doing what?" Jenna asks.
    "Um ... helping my mom. With some hammering."
    Jenna frowns. "Can't your dad help her with that?"
    "Um ... no," I reply. "He's not allowed to hammer. It's a rule."
    Jenna lifts her chin and I see it quiver a little. "Never mind," she says, pushing past us.
    Stacey gives my arm a squeeze. "That was quick thinking, Ida!" she says. "Good thing the mermaid's helping us, huh?"
    "Good thing," I reply.

    When we get to Stacey's house after school, her Grandma Tootie is snoozing in front of the TV. We sneak into Stacey's bedroom and she calls her dad to tell him she's sick and needs to stay home. Then she calls Kelli and tells her she talked to her dad and he's going out of town, unexpectedly. Then she asks if she can spend the weekend with me instead. Five minutes later, we have all of Stacey's stuff packed up and we are heading for the door.
    "Is that you, Stacey?" Grandma Tootie looks up from her recliner.
    We stop and turn around. "Yep," Stacey says. "Dad called to tell me something came up this weekend, so Kelli said I can stay at Ida's instead."
    "Your dad called? When?"
    "Just a few minutes ago," Stacey replies.
    "Huh," Grandma Tootie says. "I didn't hear the phone."
    "Well, you were sleeping," Stacey says. "So I picked it up fast."
    Stacey gives her grandma a smile.
    I give my shoes the once-over.
    Grandma Tootie picks up the remote and changes the channel on the TV. "Well, you girls have fun," she says.
    "We will!" Stacey says back and yanks me out the door.
    When we get to my house, my mom is teaching piano and my dad is still at work, so we grab a snack from the kitchen, dump Stacey's stuff in my bedroom, and head to the attic. That's because on the way here Stacey had the best idea ever.
    We push boxes to one end of the attic to make a secret room. I unroll an old rug, and Stacey sets the wobbly piano bench on it. "This bench can be the shrine," she says. "We have to make it really nice so the mermaid will want to stay here
permanently.
"
    We hurry downstairs to the kitchen for tape and aluminum foil. Then we go back and cover the bench with it. I find an old string of Christmas tree lights and hang it on the wall behind the bench/shrine. We find some fake spiders and doll
body parts and scatter them around because that's the kind of stuff evil mermaids like. Then we run to my room, partly because all those spiders and body parts creep us out and partly to get the mermaid. We set her on the shiny bench/shrine and plug her in. The whole place glows with her evilness so we know she likes it here.
    "We should write her some fan mail," I say.
    "Oooo ... good idea," Stacey says back. She dashes over to my dad's tool bench and grabs a jar of pens and pencils. "I'll get some paper from your room!" she says, heading for the door.
    "Wait!" I say. "I have a better idea."
    I take the jar and dump out the pens and pencils. "Fill this up with water in the bathroom," I say, handing her the empty jar. "And grab a roll of toilet paper. I'll get some markers."
    Stacey gives me a puzzled look.
    "Mermaids live in water, right?" I say.
    Stacey nods.
    "So, if you want to send a mermaid fan mail, the best way is with water."
    Stacey still looks confused, but she flies out the door with the jar.
    I run to my room and dig through my desk. I
find two purple markers that smell like sour grape gummy worms.
    I head for the door. I stop and give George a smile.
    George does not give me one back.
    "Don't be jealous, George," I say. "Someday I'll build you a shrine, too."
    George doesn't budge.
    I