Read Online My Extra Best Friend by Julie Bowe - Free Book Online Page B

days. I’ll ration them out.” Sheunzips the backpack. Chips, gum, cookies, cherry whips, Choco Chunks—it all spills onto her bottom bunk like lava from a volcano. A real one, not some dumb valentines box.
    Jenna steps up. “But you
promised
not to eat in the cabin.”
    “I had my fingers crossed,” Brooke replies, “so that promise doesn’t count. Besides, one teeny bag of potato chips isn’t going to attract anything bigger than a fly. We’ll split it eight ways.” She rips open a shiny yellow bag. “Leftovers go to me since I’m the brains behind this operation.”
    Randi mumbles something about brains again. But Brooke is too busy concentrating on counting out potato chips to pay attention to Randi. A minute later, everyone is munching. Even Jenna. It’s hard to follow the rules when a pair of potato chips are staring you in the eye.
    “Look!” Stacey says, licking her salty fingers and pointing at Elizabeth. “Liz got a green one. That’s good luck!”
    “It is?” Elizabeth pinches up the potato chip she’s holding. Its edge is as green as a shark wristband.
    “No it’s not,” Jenna says, rubbing her greasy hand on her shorts. “Green means
bad
luck.”
    “No refunds,” Brooke quips, shaking crumbs from the chip bag. She sucks them up like a vacuum cleaner. Then she tucks the empty bag back inside her pack, stuffs in the other candy, and zips it shut.
    “That’s
it
?” Randi says. “I only got two chips!”
    “I told you,” Brooke replies. “We have to make the snacks last.”
    Elizabeth steps closer to the window while Brooke and Randi argue over snack rations, turning the green chip in the sunlight like it’s edged with emeralds.
    I watch her, nibbling and thinking about what just happened.
    Not the green potato chip part.
    The part where Brooke said, “We’ll split it
eight
ways.”
    She didn’t even need to stop and count us up.
    She just knew.
    Elizabeth sticks the green chip in her mouth and munches away.

    “Crayons? Glitter? Pinecones? Why is everything at this camp for little kids?” Emillie wrinkles her nose at the baskets of craft supplies that are sitting on the tables in the crafts cottage when we get there later on Monday morning. Brooke made us stop at Hawk cabin to invite Emillie and Nat along.
Us
meaning me, Stacey, and Elizabeth. Stacey invited
her
. Randi and Jenna went to kickball. Meeka and Jolene went on a nature hike.
    Nat walks over to one of the tables. It’s covered with white paper.
Draw on me!
is written across it in friendly print. The other table is set up the same way.
    She picks up a crayon. Sniffs it like it’s skunk scented. “And to think I used to
love
this kind of stuff.” She draws a frowny face on the table and then plops down on one of its long benches.
    Emillie sits across from her on the other bench. She takes a pinecone from a basket, breaks off a spike, and flicks it at Nat. “Told you we should have gone to kickball,” she says. “At least there would be boys there.”
    The door creaks open.
    Tom walks in. “Hi!” he says, giving us a friendly wave.
    Emillie rolls her eyes. “I mean
real
boys.”
    Brooke shoots a look at Tom. “What are
you
doing here?” She scoots in next to Nat. “Art is for
girls
.”
    Tom cocks his head. “Was Picasso a girl? Was van Gogh? Was Monet?”
    Brooke squints. “Who knows, who cares, Tom
Thumb
.”
    Emillie snickers. “Good one.” She reaches across the table and gives Brooke a high five.
    Nat gives her one too.
    Brooke smiles so big I can see her molars.
    Tom sits at the other table.
    Elizabeth joins him.
    Brooke pulls Stacey in next to her.
    “No vacancy,” Emillie says to me, stretching her long, tan legs across the bench she’s sitting on.
    More campers come in. They pause, look at Nat and Emillie, and then head to the other table.
    When I get there, the only spot left is across from Elizabeth. I don’t want to spend a whole hour not looking at her.
    I glance at the door. “Maybe