Read Online Sammy Keyes and the Hotel Thief by Wendelin Van Draanen - Free Book Online Page A

more. I feel like screaming, “Listen!” because I want her to believe me and I know I can make everything all right if she’d just listen to me.
    So I’m saying, “Grams…Grams…
Grams!
” but when she finally turns to me and says, “What!” the phone rings.
    And all of a sudden it’s dead quiet in the apartment except for the phone ringing off the hook. Grams looks at me and I look at her, and finally she picks it up and says, “Hello?” real softly. After a second she pinches her eyes closed and I’m thinking that Mrs. Graybill has already told Mr. Garnucci everything and that this is him calling to say that Grams had better start packing. But what Grams says is, “No, she can’t come to the phone.”
    That throws me, but I’m thinking, Okay, okay...at least it’s not Mr. Garnucci. It must be Marissa.
    Grams says, “I don’t care if it
is
an emergency—she can’t come to the phone.”
    So I’m sitting there, wondering what kind of trouble Mikey’s gotten himself into this time, when Grams says, “The police? Why are the police looking for Samantha at
your
house?” She listens for another minute, then holds out the phone to me without a word.

NINE
    It’s Marissa, all right, and you can tell—she’s dancing around with her cordless phone, biting on a fingernail, having a heart attack. “Sammy, you’ve got to come. Now! I told them you were in the shower. What is going
on?
They say you said you lived here! What am I supposed to
do?
”
    â€œThe
shower?
” My brain races around for a solution, but all I feel is marbles crashing into each other, going nowhere. “Are your parents home?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œWhat about Mikey?”
    â€œHe’s in his room, feeding his fish. I told him if he came out, I’d tell Mom and Dad about him going to Maynard’s when he was supposed to be sick.”
    â€œOkay, okay. I’ll be right there.”
    â€œHow in the world are you going to get here?”
    â€œI’m going to run.”
    â€œRun?”
    â€œYeah. Leave the back door unlocked and tell them I take long showers. I’ll be there as fast as I can.”
    I hang up and look at Grams. She’s sitting on the couch with her face buried in her hands, shaking her head. I run up to her and give her a hug. “Grams, I’m really sorry. I promise I’ll explain everything when I get back.”
    She looks up at me and whispers, “Samantha, you act like you’re running from the law.”
    I let out a nervous little laugh. “Actually, it’s kind of the opposite. Everything’ll be all right, I promise.” I give her a quick kiss on the cheek, and as I’m leaving she says, “I’ll be waiting.”
    I wave and close the door, and then I start running. Down the stairs, through the lobby, across the parking lot, and down Main Street.
    Now, I walk to Marissa’s house all the time. Before my skateboard got stolen I used to go to Marissa’s house almost every day. But I’d never run to Marissa’s house. And I guess I started off too fast, because two blocks down Main Street the iced tea I’d had at Hudson’s locked up tight on my right side and wouldn’t let go.
    But I kept on running, holding on to my side like I’d been shot, feeling a hot spot on my little toe where a blister’s going to pop up any minute, and by the time I turn up Jasmine I’m not running anymore, I’m hobbling.
    I hobble up the hill as fast as I can, wondering the whole time if it’s Officer Borsch who’s waiting for me, and if it is, if he’s figured out yet that I’m not really in the shower.
    I cut through a neighbor’s yard, then scrape myself up climbing over the fence into Marissa’s backyard. By now I just want to lie down and die, but instead I drag myself up to the house, turn on