Read Online Absolutely Truly by Heather Vogel Frederick - Free Book Online Page A

old copy of Charlotte’s Web ? Had they meant to mail it, and forgotten? Or had they left it there deliberately for someone to find? There wasn’t an address on the envelope, or even a real name—just the capital letter B . But the envelope had a stamp on it, like it was all ready to send.
    So why hadn’t it been?
    I traced the B on the front with my forefinger, wondering if I should open it. I was pretty sure that was some sort of a crime, though. Mail tampering or interfering with the US Postal Service or something. I didn’t want to get arrested. On the other hand, if I didn’t open it, how was I supposed to figure out who it was meant for? What if it were something important?
    â€œTruly?”
    I jumped as someone hammered on the door. It was my brother.
    â€œHatcher!” I hollered. “You about scared me to death!”
    â€œQuit barking at me. Someone’s on the phone for you.”
    I scrambled to my feet and returned the envelope to my back pocket. Maybe it was Mackenzie. She’d know what to do.
    It wasn’t Mackenzie, though; it was Cha Cha.
    â€œI’m calling to see if you want to sign up for a practice slot,” she said. “They’re going fast.”
    â€œPractice slot for what?”
    â€œCotillion.”
    I had no idea what she was talking about.
    â€œDidn’t Ms. Ivey tell you about Cotillion?” she asked as I hesitated.
    â€œUm, maybe?” I’d come home with a stack of newsletters and sign-up sheets and flyers, all of which were still in my backpack upstairs in my room.
    I, meanwhile, was now perched on a rickety old wooden chair in a tiny closet tucked under the front hall stairs. The closet contained the only landline in the house, an ancient rotary-style phone that looked like a relic from some old movie. Dad says it’s the same one that was here when he was a kid, and that it’s always been in the makeshift phone booth under the stairs. Gramps and Lola aren’t much for change.
    â€œSo here’s the deal,” Cha Cha continued. “All middle schoolers at Daniel Webster are required to attend Cotillion.”
    â€œWhich is?” I prodded a stack of moldy phone books with the toe of my sneaker. Above me, a bare bulb dangled from the ceiling. Not exactly the kind of place for a lingering conversation.
    â€œKind of a tradition in Pumpkin Falls. My mom calls it a rite of passage. Cotillion is a series of dance classes we all takeat school, and then the big finale is during Winter Festival, when we get to show off what we’ve learned at the town’s annual dance.”
    I had no idea how to respond. A dance that the entire town went to? What planet was I on?
    â€œWe’re lucky,” Cha Cha continued. “Now that we’re in middle school, we get to do ballroom instead of a stupid square dance, like the younger kids have to do. Anyway, it’ll be starting up soon.”
    â€œYou’re telling me I have to take a ballroom dance class?” I could feel panic rising in me. Dancing is practically at the top of the list of things I’m not good at. “You’re kidding, right?”
    Cha Cha was very quiet. Uh-oh , I thought. Had I just insulted her?
    Apparently not. “Nope, I’m not kidding,” she said cheerfully. “In fact, my parents will be teaching it.”
    I could hear music in the background, and people talking. “Where are you?”
    â€œAt the Starlite. Anyway, in addition to the class at school, everybody’s required to attend two private practice sessions here at the studio with my parents. There’s no charge, of course.”
    â€œOf course,” I echoed, still feeling stunned.
    â€œSo how does the Saturday after next sound?”
    â€œFine, I guess,” I said, wondering whether I should tell Cha Cha about the letter. I pulled it out of my back pocket.
    â€œOops, gotta go,” she said, before I could bring it up.