How to Outfox Your Friends When You Don't Have a Clue
Page 18
PHYLUM: Carnivora; Swim Team Goddesses
WEIGHT: I don’t know, but they get full after two bites of sushi.
NATURAL HABITAT: The mall, but only the parts that are backlit with pink lighting.
FEEDS ON: The souls and pain of the weak, waterproof mascara, organic food, and Teen Vogue; also, my misfortune.
LIFE SPAN: Most witches and monsters in fairytales seek immortality, so…
HANDLING TECHNIQUE: AVOID AT ALL COSTS.
*NOTE* SPECIES RAYNAA PONTIFICUS AND BROOKENZI SNEEROFIDUS HAVE BEEN FOUND TO BE GENETIC CLONES OF SPECIES NOTED ABOVE.
“Hey, Scales.” Ashley’s voice dripped with sweetness. You could tell she was aware that Zack was listening by the way her eyes flitted to him every four seconds—such a shark. She swept a lock of blond hair from her eyes. The silver on her earrings twinkled in the light. “I hope there aren’t any bugs in your pants today. Must be hard without Liv around to do your hair for you, huh?” She twirled her hair around her fingertip and eyed my ponytail with fake sympathy.
Seriously, ever since my idiot brother let slip that I was named after a snake—an anaconda to be precise—I hadn’t heard the end of it. And the whole bug thing—so I accidentally left the house with a pocket full of crickets after feeding some of Daz’s snakes. One time. Four years ago. If it hadn’t been so mortifying, it would have been funny; they started chirping during Mr. Dixon’s grammar lecture, and it sounded exactly like a movie where everybody gets bored. Usually the Sneerers had to face Liv whenever they made fun of me, but now? I am basically target practice.
“Hey, Ashley, did you know that some perfumes are made with whale vomit? Maybe you want to go a little easy on the spritzing tomorrow?”
I so wish I’d said that, but the voice belonged to someone else.
I swiveled around wide-eyed to see who had the guts to talk back to Ashley. A tall girl in red warm-up pants was half jogging toward us.
Rebecca!
I gulped and kept my eyes forward, not wanting to make eye contact. Rebecca was Ashley’s older sister, and being in eighth grade, she was even more popular (and therefore scarier) than anyone our age in seventh. But she did it without being a kraken. Although it was sort of cool to see someone take a dig at Ashley. How could a nice girl like Rebecca be sisters with Ashley?
“Why don’t you shut up, Becca?” Ashley spat at her sister.
Rebecca ignored her and smirked at me. My cheeks burned at the attention. “Ignore her. She’s just miffed I beat her time at practice this morning, again. Aren’t you, kiddo?” Rebecca reached out and punched Ashley playfully on the arm before sauntering away to her friends.
See? Some people seem to ooze confidence all over the place. Whereas the only thing I oozed was a bit of prickly sweat under my arms when I was nervous. Which was almost all the time.
I bit my tongue, unable to hide my smile. I guess sometimes the best way to deal with mean ones was to be mean right back? Of course, the thought of saying anything like that to Ashley made me want to lose my breakfast.
Ashley’s perfectly stained lips pressed thin, and her face shifted to a grim mask of anger. She makes that face a lot, and it always makes me think her skin is going to melt off and reveal a metal robot skull and a flickering, short-circuited eyeball. I could see it.
She glared at me. “Whatever, geek. Smile all you want, but we’ll see how happy you are in English class,” she said, puffing up her chest. “I just talked to Mrs. Roca, and she said I could switch my talk with yours. So you’ll be talking today, instead of the end of the week,” she cooed. “She mentioned something about you putting it off long enough? You’re welcome.” Ashley’s eyes were wide with phony innocence.
My stomach plummeted to the floor. I swear, the devil must take lessons from Ashley. Now what was I going to do?! Two minutes, two minutes…how could I avoid stage fright puking with such short notice?!
About the Author
Jess Keating was nine years old when she brought home a fox skeleton she found in the woods and declared herself Jane Goodall, and not much has changed since then. Her first job was at a wildlife rehabilitation center, where she spent her days chasing raccoons, feeding raptors (the birds, not the dinosaurs!), and trying unsuccessfully to avoid getting sprayed by skunks. Her love of animals carried her through university, where she studied zoology and received a master’s degree in animal science, before realizing her lifelong dream of writing a book for kids about a hilarious girl who lives in a zoo.
She has always been passionate about three things: writing, animals, and education. Today, she’s lucky enough to mix together all three. When she’s not writing books for adventurous and funny kids, she’s hiking the trails near her Ontario home, watching documentaries, and talking about weird animal facts* to anyone who will listen. You can email her at jesskeatingbooks@gmail.com, or visit her online at www.jesskeating.com.
*Did you know that grizzly bears can smell food from eighteen miles away?
CREATURE FILE:
Jess Keating
SPECIES NAME: Authorificus Biophiliac
KINGDOM: Ontario, Canada!
PHYLUM: Writers who have a strange love of quirky critters and brave characters; animal nut with a pen
WEIGHT: You dare ask a lady her weight?! Why, I never! Wait, is this before or after I ate that banana split?
NATURAL HABITAT: Outside exploring with a messy notebook, or snuggled up watching nature documentaries with her husband.
FEEDS ON: Grilled apple and cheese sandwiches, popcorn, and pizza.
LIFESPAN: I was born on a sunny summer day in…wait, nobody has time for my life story here. Get it together, Jess.
HANDLING TECHNIQUE: Gets restless inside, so daily walks are essential. Also have significant quantities of caramel corn and extra books on hand in case of emergency.
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