Read Online Freaky Fast Frankie Joe by Lutricia Clifton - Free Book Online

time with you—maybe on Saturdays when we quilt.”
    All I wanted to do was finish my Responsibility Report! I put a fake-mouth smile on my face.
    Lizzie smiles, too. “No need to thank me, Frankie Joe. That’s what family’s are for. . . .” Her voice trails off, and her eyes start blinking again.
    Uh-oh
.
    Quickly Lizzie writes something down on an index card. “Here,” she says. “This can be the first word you look up in your very own dictionary.”
    I look at the word.
Home
?
    â€œI don’t think a one of us ever welcomed you to our home, Frankie Joe. It’s high time we did. I want you to feel comfortable here—comfortable enough to tell us when something’s not going good. Okay?”
    I stretch the fake-mouth smile wider.
    â€œNow you better get that trash out before Frank gets back. Might as well get one more thing on your Responsibility Report before you turn it in. Right?”
    That was the idea.
5:16 P.M.
    As I dump the trash, I wonder if Mandy’s still selling cookies. Figuring she hasn’t gotten far, I go in search of her. I stop at the end of the alley, look both ways, and spot a Girl Scout uniform a block away. I head toward her, but stop when I hear a familiar voice behind me.
    â€œWhat’cha doin’, Frankie Joe? Dumpster diving?” Matt’s biking with some of our classmates. Laughing, he tells the others where I got my bike.
    I leave them hooting and catch up with Mandy, who’s still long-faced.
    â€œStill no luck, huh?” Her order form hasn’t gotten any fuller.
    â€œNot much,” she says. “Look, I didn’t mean to cause you any grief back there.”
    â€œWhat’s a little more grief.” When she looks at me funny, I say, “Forget it. Come with me. I got an idea.”
    â€œWhere we goin’?”
    â€œYou’ll see.” A few minutes later, I walk her up the steps to Miss Peachcott’s back door.
    Mandy hesitates. “But this is—”
    â€œYeah, the third oddball.” I knock on the door.
    â€œFrankie Joe! I was hoping you’d stop by.” Miss Peachcott has been experimenting again. The spot on her face looks radioactive.
    â€œThis is Mandy. She’s selling Girl Scout cookies.” I shove Mandy forward. “I ate most of your cookies when I was here last time. And since you’re so busy with your
project
”—I raise my eyebrows meaningfully when I say “project”—“I thought you might want to shop at home.”
    â€œWell now, isn’t that clever of you.” Miss Peachcott raises her eyebrows, too.
    Mandy’s frozen, so I take the order form from her hand and give it to Miss Peachcott.
    â€œWhy don’t I just take a box of each,” she says, making checkmarks across the page. “They all look too good to pass up.” She returns the form to Mandy and givesme another raised-eyebrow look. “Now I must get back to my . . . 
project
.”
    After saying good-bye to Miss Peachcott, I walk Mandy to the end of the alley.
    â€œGee thanks, Frankie Joe.” Mandy stares at her order form, looking stunned. “This is absolutely great—
super
great.” She looks at me. “Any time I can help you out—”
    â€œThanks,” I say, walking away quickly, “but I’ve got all the help I can stand.”
8:22 P.M.
    home \
noun:
1 a : one’s place of residence : DOMICILE b : HOUSE 2 : the social unit formed by a family living together 3 a : a familiar or usual setting : congenial environment;
also
: the focus of one’s domestic attention [
home
is where the heart is]
    b. HABITAT 4 a : a place of origin [salmon returning to their
home
to spawn];
also
: one’s own country [having troubles at
home
and abroad] b : HEADQUARTERS 5 : an establishment providing care for people with special needs [
homes
for the elderly] [a
home
for unwed