Free Ten Ways to Make My Sister Disappear by Norma Fox Mazer Page B

tells him the whole story — everything, including that Sprig was on the evening news. “Your dad wants to talk to you now, Sprig,” she says.
    â€œMe, first?” Sprig glances at Dakota.
    â€œGo ahead,” Dakota says. “You deserve it. This time,” she adds.
    Sprig takes the phone into the other room. “Hi, Dad.”
    â€œSprig,” Dad says. “I’m so proud of you for your quick thinking.”
    â€œDads.” Sprig leans in to the phone. “I waited too long to call.”
    â€œSprig, you saved Miss Ruthie’s life. It could have been a whole lot worse.”
    â€œI guess so,” she says. “But what if there’s damage and it’s my fault because I —”
    â€œSprig.” His voice deepens. “I want you to listen carefully. I want you to hear this, all the way from Kabul, Afghanistan, to Alliance, New York. You can’t second-guess yourself. Sometimes we only get one chance, and then we live with what we choose to do or not do. What you did was a good thing, and we’re all lucky — Miss Ruthie is very lucky! She’s lucky that you were there. Do you hear what I’m saying?”
    â€œYes,” Sprig says after a moment. “I hear you, Dad.” And then she asks the question she always asks. “Are you coming home soon?”
    And he gives the answer he always gives. “Soon as I can. Soon as my work is done.”

L IGHTS sparkle in every window of the sprawling Ezra-Evans house. Dakota is out of the car almost before Mom stops, but Sprig lingers. “Mom,” she says, “you know what I wish? I wish I’d stayed home. Bliss is going to be here at the party,” she explains.
    â€œWell, honey, there’s only one thing to do. Make up with her,” Mom says, as if there’s nothing to it. “It’s never as hard as you think. The longer you wait, the harder it’ll be. I’ll be here at ten to pick you both up,” she adds, as Sprig finally gets out of the car.
    Russell’s parents, two tall, smiling people, greet her at the door. Inside, Dakota has already taken off her boots and is putting on her black ballet slippers. She’s wearing black tights and a new glitter tee shirt, and her hair is piled on top of her head. Spurts of music, talk, and laughter pour out of the living room.
    Sprig hangs up her jacket in the jammed closet and kicks off her boots, then realizes she forgot to bring her sneakers. “Oh, no! Dakota, what should I do?”
    Her sister looks at Sprig’s dog-patterned socks and shrugs. “Doesn’t matter. Your socks are cute.”
    â€œAre you sure it’s okay? It doesn’t look too weird?”
    â€œIt’s fine!” She gives Sprig a push toward the living room. “Lighten up, this is going to be fun. Do I look okay?” She fingers the tiny silver hoops in her ears.
    Sprig nods. “You look —” She’s about to say “beautiful,” but Dakota has spotted Krystee and run off.
    The living room is huge, crowded, and hot. A pool table is set up in front of the two long windows, and in the group around it, Sprig sees Bliss and Russell, side-by-side. Big Russell in a white shirt and a red tie, and tiny Bliss in a red blouse and white skirt. What did they do, color-coordinate their clothes? A funny thought, only Sprig isn’t laughing. It’s Russell and Bliss who are laughing, who are having fun together. Who are together. Sprig’s legs quiver, as if she’s outside in the cold, cold air. She is outside. Out in the cold.
    Dimly, she remembers the stupid quarrel with Bliss, and then she remembers that other moment when their friendship almost foundered. She’d saved the day that time, and it hadn’t been hard. She’d thrown her arms around Bliss and hugged her. Was that all it would take now to bring her in from the cold?
    â€œâ€™Scuse me.” Sprig pushes through the