Fabulous Five 005 - The Bragging War

by Betsy Haynes

  She heard the faint ring of the phone through her closed door, and a moment later Todd called out, "Beth! Phone!"

  It's probably Laura calling to rub it in, she thought as she scuffed down the hall.

  "Hello," she said, and crossed her fingers behind her back for luck.

  "Beth Barry, how could you do such a thing?"

  It was Jana, and she sounded positively furious. "What are you talking about?" Beth asked in surprise.

  "You know what I'm talking about," said Jana. "Your dumb idea of bragging to everybody that you were going to have a slumber party tonight and invite boys. Randy just called. He said he heard about it from the girls who TPed his house."

  "Well, he obviously didn't believe it," said Beth. "Otherwise he wouldn't have called you because he wouldn't have thought you were at home."

  "He called your house first," said Jana. "But your line was busy. So then he called here. He was so mad that if I hadn't been home, he would probably have broken up with me, and it would be all your fault."

  "Come on, Jana," pleaded Beth. "You know I didn't mean for anything like that to happen. I was just trying to get back at Laura for making The Fabulous Five look like a bunch of losers."

  "Well, if you ask me, it backfired."

  Jana slammed down the phone in Beth's ear, but now it was Beth's turn to be angry. How could Jana blame me? How could she possibly think it was my fault that Laura McCall was making fools out of us? she thought desperately. How could anybody think that? It wasn't fair.

  Beth stomped back to her room, grabbed the pillow off her bed, and hurled it into the floor. Her life had turned into a roller coaster ride: up one minute and in the pits the next—and it was all because of Laura. She would get her for this if it was the last thing she ever did.

  "Watch out, Laura McCall," she muttered under her breath. "From now on, it's all-out war."

  CHAPTER 9

  Beth had intended to spend the whole weekend figuring out a way to get back at Laura McCall, but that was before she glanced into the mirror Saturday morning and made a horrible discovery. A pimple, huge, red, and ugly, was beaming out like a beacon in the night from just left of her nose.

  "What!" she gasped. "Where did that thing come from?"

  It hadn't been there last night. She had washed her face before she went to bed, and there was definitely no sign then of Mount Everest erupting on her face for all the world to see. How could she possibly go down to breakfast looking like this?

  Beth could already hear her father in the kitchen, singing at the top of his lungs and going through his regular Saturday-morning pancake ritual. Her father made the best pancakes in the world—or so he said—and every Saturday morning the whole family gathered at the breakfast table together to sample his latest concoctions. It was a tradition in the Barry family and practically the only time during their busy week when they could all eat together. She would get killed if she didn't show up within the next fifteen minutes.

  She glanced at herself in the mirror again, and tears shot into her eyes. But I can't go down there looking like this! she thought desperately.

  Beth rummaged through the jumble of aspirins and ointments and other odds and ends in the medicine cabinet looking for the Band-Aids and praying that the box wouldn't be empty. Alicia was crazy about Band-Aids. Whenever anyone else in the family had a Band-Aid, she always wanted one for herself, and it had to go onto the exact same spot. That meant that half the time the Band-Aid box was empty. She shook it, hearing a faint rustling sound, and opened it to find one lonely Band-Aid inside.

  Grabbing it, she stuck it over the pimple just as Todd banged on the bathroom door and yelled, "Come on. Breakfast is ready."

  For once in her life Beth was glad that no one in her family ever noticed her as she slunk down the stairs and slid into her place at the table. Leaning on her elbow, she slumped over her plate and covered the left side of her face with her hand. All she had to do was stay in that position until she had finished her pancakes, and she would be home free.

  "Cut yourself shaving?" Brian asked offhandedly from across the table.

  Beth froze. Whom was he talking to?

  "Hey, Beth. I asked you a question," he said, and this time she could hear laughter in his voice. "Did you cut yourself shaving? Hey, everybody. Beth's started shaving!"

  He broke out laughing for real this time, and she could feel all eyes turn on her.

  "Bethy! Bethy!" Alicia shrieked. "Why are you shaving? You're a girl!"

  "I'm not shaving," Beth mumbled, still staring down at the soggy lumps of pancakes swimming in syrup in her plate. "Now leave me alone, Brian."

  "Sure she's shaving," Brian insisted. "Why else would she have a Band-Aid on her face?"

  Mrs. Barry leaned toward Beth, probably to inquire if she was feeling okay. But before anybody else could say anything Brittany intervened.

  "Knock it off, Brian. She probably just found her first zit. Believe me, I know how it feels. Of course, you wouldn't. Your whole head's a zit! You're the only one I know who looks better covered with pimples."

  "Children!" Mrs. Barry warned just as Beth was groaning and wishing she could become invisible. Why was this happening? Why couldn't they all just shut up? What a miserable time to be noticed.

  "Oh, my gosh!" Brian shouted, completely ignoring his mother. "Her first zit? Look out, everybody! Another teenager has just been unleashed on the world." He cupped his hands around his mouth and appeared to be shouting to someone outside the back door. "Look out, world! Here comes another case of adolescent behavior to drive you nuts."

  "Mom! Dad! Can't you do something about this moron?" Beth shouted, jumping to her feet and pulling her hand away from her face so quickly that she accidentally ripped off her Band-Aid, exposing the huge red pimple that pulsed with flaming heat. That was absolutely the last straw, and she spun and raced back up the stairs to hide in her room.

  Belly-flopping so hard onto her bed that she bounced, Beth buried her face in her pillow. Zits! Adolescent behavior! Baloney! How dare Brian make fun of her. And how dare Brittany say she knew how it felt. Brittany didn't know how anything felt. Not anything that I feel, anyway, she thought.

  Beth was still lying on her bed staring into space a little while later when there was a soft knock on her door.

  "Who is it?" she growled.

  "Mom."

  Beth sighed. "Come in," she said, but she made sure that her voice sounded as put out as she felt. The last thing she needed was a lecture from her mother.

  "Hi, honey," said Mrs. Barry as she came into the room. "I'm sorry there was such a scene at the breakfast table, but you know how this family is. Are you feeling better now?"

  "Yeah," Beth lied.

  "That's good," Mrs. Barry said, bending close to look at the left side of Beth's face. "I'm on my way to the grocery store now so I'll pick up something for your face while I'm there. With any luck, it will practically be gone by time for school Monday."

  School. Beth's eves widened. She had totally forgotten about school. She nodded mutely to her mother and was just about to go into a fit of panic over how she was going to face the kids at school with the world's largest zit when her mother popped back in the door and said, "I almost forgot. Dad said to remind you to get out in the front yard and clean all the toilet paper off the trees and bushes. He wants it done today."

  Great, she thought. That's just great! It's not enough that I have the world's largest pimple; now I have to expose it to the world.

  CHAPTER 10

  A chilly wind was blowing toilet paper into the neighboring yards by the time Beth got outside. She had armed herself with a leaf rake and a couple of black plastic trash bags, and she went right to work cleaning the paper off the grass and snagging it out of the trees and off the bushes, desperately hoping that she could get the job completed before anyone could come down her street and see her—and her enormous zit.

  "Bethy! Bethy! Don't throw that away," Alicia shouted, ra
cing out the door and down the front steps. "I need that for Nibbles."

  Puzzled, Beth glanced down at the empty toilet paper tube she had been about to throw into the trash bag. Nibbles was Alicia's hamster, who had gotten his name when he ate his way out of his cardboard carton on the way home from the pet shop. "What does Nibbles want with this?" she asked.

  "I'm making a laboratory for him," Alicia said proudly.

  Beth chuckled. "A laboratory? What's he going to do in a laboratory? Discover a cure for cancer?"

  Alicia put her hands on her hips and looked up at her older sister in complete exasperation. "No. He's going to run through it and play hide-and-seek."

  "Oh," Beth said. "You mean a labyrinth."

  Alicia cocked her head to one side and frowned. "That's what I said. A LAB-ratory."

  "All right. All right," said Beth. "I get it. You want me to save these for you. Is that it?"

  Alicia nodded. "Mom's driving me to my ballet lesson now, so don't throw any away. Okay?"

  Beth shrugged and turned back to her task. It would go slower now that she had to separate out the empty tubes from the paper. It was no wonder. Hadn't Funny Hawthorne said that they had saved the last of their toilet paper rolls for her house? That meant there were at least a million tubes. It would take her all day to clean up the mess.

  To make matters worse, her pimple was throbbing. "Nobody ever told me that these things hurt," she grumbled as she hauled the first full trash bag around to the driveway. When her mother had returned from the grocery store a little while earlier, she had handed Beth a tube of ointment that Beth had dabbed carefully on the angry spot. That had been at least half an hour ago, and so far, it wasn't doing the least bit of good.

  She was just starting to come around the corner of the house and into the front yard again when she heard the screech of rusty bicycle brakes. Keith! she thought in a panic. She would know the sound of his brakes anywhere.

  It was too late to duck back along the side of the house. He had already seen her and was waving and grinning like crazy.

  "Hey, Beth," he called as he parked his bike and stooped to scoop up a handful of toilet paper off the grass. "It looks as if they got you, too. I just finished cleaning my yard. Want some help?"

  Beth tried to smile, but it made her pimple hurt more than ever. He was coming toward her. Any minute now he would be close enough to see her terrible zit. Her knees were getting weak. What am I going to do? she begged silently.

  Makeup! The word floated down from heaven like an answer to a prayer.

  "Wait here," she shouted, backing toward the front door. "I'll get us some hot chocolate. I'm freezing. Aren't you?"

  She barely heard Keith call out, "Can't I come in while you're fixing it?" as she bumped up the concrete steps and stumbled in the door.

  She couldn't help it if Keith thought she was weird for not inviting him in the way she always did. She would think up an excuse when she went back outside. Right now, she had an important mission: to sneak into Brittany's room and get some makeup to cover her zit.

  "If only Alicia were here," she muttered under her breath as she raced up the stairs. Alicia was a genius when it came to sneaking into Brittany's room, and she knew exactly where their older sister kept all of her makeup, too. Oh, well, she thought. I'll just have to do it myself. At least Agatha hadn't heard her come into the house and bounded along to crash into things and get in the way. One thing's going her way was better than nothing's.

  Stopping in the upstairs hall, Beth surveyed the scene. Brittany's bedroom door was slightly ajar, and the shower was going in the bathroom. Brittany was right on schedule. Thank goodness she was predictable, Beth thought. Her sister had the same routine every Saturday. Go down for pancake breakfast with the family. Talk on the phone. Take a shower. Talk on the phone. Blow dry and curl her hair. Talk on the phone. Get dressed and finally go out to meet her friends.

  Beth took a deep breath and pushed Brittany's door open. Stepping inside, she kept one ear tuned to the sound of the shower as she frantically searched for signs of her sister's makeup. She grabbed Britt's purse and began jumbling around inside. Wallet. Breath mints. Lipstick. Hairbrush. Period. That was it. Beth tossed the purse aside and began pulling out drawers from the bureau. She must have stashed it in here, she thought.

  She was poking around in the third drawer from the bottom when she stood up straight and listened. The shower had stopped.

  "Oh, my gosh," she whispered. When did that happen? Brittany could be on her way back to her room right this instant.

  Beth didn't bother to close the drawer or even look up and down the hall as she zipped out of Brittany's room and into her own, collapsing onto the floor. She would kill me if she caught me in her room, Beth thought when her heart quieted down enough for her to hear her own thoughts. She'd murder me. Only Alicia could get away with a thing such as that.

  A second later she remembered what this was all about in the first place. Keith. He was outside waiting for her to bring hot chocolate. Beth crawled to her window, pulled herself up onto her knees, and peeked out. His bike was still in the driveway. She had been afraid for a moment that he might have gotten tired of waiting and gone home. Half of her wished he had. She still had the awful zit, and borrowing Brittany's makeup had just become an impossible dream.

  Beth sat down on the floor and rested the back of her head on the sill. She couldn't go downstairs to talk to Keith looking like this. The Band-Aid box was empty. She had used the last one herself. If only she had asked her mother to pick up another box at the grocery store.

  Just then her gaze fell on her theater trunk, and an idea began to form in her mind.

  "Why not?" she asked out loud. "It worked on my parents—sort of."

  Throwing open the trunk lid, she rummaged through the contents until she found the rectangular yellow box with the words on top that said:

  Wounds, Hurts, and Vampire Blood

  Smiling slyly to herself, Beth opened the box and went to work.

  "What took you so long?" Keith asked as Beth scooted out the door carrying two cups of hot chocolate a few minutes later. Then suddenly his eyes seemed to focus on her face and he went pale. "What happened to you?" he shrieked.

  It took every bit of acting talent that Beth possessed to keep from breaking up, but she managed to hold a straight face. She had wanted to cover her pimple with a gross-looking puncture wound but decided that would be carrying things a bit too far. Instead she had settled for a pair of bruises made by combining red and blue greasepaint into a horrible purplish color. One bruise covered the zit on the left side of her nose, and the other decorated her forehead. Now she walked toward Keith, trying her best to look a little weak and fluttery.

  "Oh, nothing," she said. "I was just playing with Agatha, and she accidentally knocked me into the wall."

  "Gosh, that's too bad," he said, and Beth almost died from relief. "I'll bet that really hurt."

  Together they had the yard cleaned up in record time and collected a huge pile of toilet paper tubes for Alicia. Keith laughed when Beth told him about Alicia's "laboratory" for Nibbles.

  "Wow!" said Keith, staring at his watch. "I didn't realize it was so late. I've got to get to the stadium and get ready for the game." Then he looked at her with a worried expression and asked, "Are you going to be able to cheer today with those bruises on your face?"

  Beth was stunned. She tried to nod as Keith jumped on his bike and gave her one last wave before he rode away, but all she could concentrate on was how she had been in such a panic to cover up her pimple that she had forgotten all about cheering at the game today. Now what was she going to do? Missing a game without a life-or-death excuse meant getting kicked off the squad. At the same time, she couldn't possibly show up looking like this, and if she washed off the fake bruises, Keith would suspect that she was lying again.

  CHAPTER 11

  Beth was staring at her fake bruises in the bathroom mirror and wondering what on e
arth she was going to do when she heard a horn honk in the driveway. A split second later Brittany's bedroom door slammed and she clattered down the stairs, making more noise than a stampede of elephants.

  The house was totally quiet now. Brian was at his Saturday job bagging groceries at a supermarket; Mom had taken Alicia to her ballet lesson; Todd had gone to a friend's house; her dad was in the garage refinishing an old chair; and even Agatha had gone off somewhere to nap. It was the perfect chance to go back into Brittany's bedroom and use some of her makeup. This time she didn't even have to sneak.

  When she left for the football stadium a little while later, she was ecstatic. "Not only am I a terrific actress," she told herself as she walked along, "I'm also a super makeup artist."

  Her first impulse had been to wash off the bruises and just use the makeup to hide her pimple. But that could get her into trouble with Keith, she had reminded herself. Instead she decided to apply Brittany's flesh-toned foundation, called Shimmering Gloss, right on top of the fake bruises. That way, if Keith asked any questions, she could always rub off just a little bit of the foundation and show him that the bruises were still underneath. Best of all, buried beneath layers of gooey stage makeup and Shimmering Gloss was the horrid pimple. No one would ever know it was there.

  Melanie was waiting for her outside the main gate of the stadium. She was easy to spot in the milling crowd because she was wearing her short, cardinal-red cheerleading skirt and gold letter sweater, just as Beth was, and she bounced on her tiptoes and waved to Beth with a red-and-gold pom-pon.

  "Hi," Melanie said brightly, and if she noticed Beth's makeup, she didn't let on. Instead her eves got big and she began talking excitedly. "Boy, have I got a lot of stuff to tell you. Alexis just told me all about Laura's slumber party last night, and wait until you hear what happened."

  "I already know what happened," grumbled Beth. "They went out TPing cute boys' houses and then came to mine. They also know that I didn't have a slumber party last night and invite boys."