Read Online Sleepover Stakeout (9780545443111) by Kim Harrington - Free Book Online Page A

blinked, opened my eye wider, everything I could think of. Then I sighed. “No, not a one.”
    We repeated the process with my left eye covered. Then I sat my chin on this weird metal contraption and said “better,” “worse,” or “the same” to a million different combinations of glass the doctor flipped in front of my eyes. After that, he scribbled my prescription on a pad of paper and told Mom and me to head to the showroom to look at frames.
    Frames! That meant it was real…. I was getting glasses. I walked from the dimly lit office into the bright front store area with my shoulders hunched. I’d had a glimmer of hope that this was all some mistake. That the doctor would say, “Your vision is perfect! That teacher didn’t know what he was talking about!”
    But that didn’t happen.
    â€œThey have such a great selection here,” Mom said, gazing at all the frames. “You’ll find a beautiful pair. So many of these would look pretty on you.”
    There were, like, a hundred frames on display and I think I tried on every one. Red, black, tortoiseshell, wire, plastic, huge, small, narrow, wide, circular, rectangular. Forced enthusiasm continued to pour from Mom as I picked up each pair. I appreciated that she was trying to make me feel better, but as she oohed and ahhed over all of them, it just didn’t help. They all looked the same to me — unnatural. As if it wasn’t my face anymore.
    I turned to Mom and said hopefully, “How about contact lenses?”
    She gave me a half smile, but I knew the answer before she even started talking. “Maybe in high school. Your father and I would like you to wait a couple years.”
    Part of me wanted to throw myself on the floor like a two-year-old and have a tantrum, but that wouldn’t solve my problem. I wouldn’t be cured. I’d keep squinting. My grades might drop because of all these mistakes I kept making. I had to face it.
    I picked up the tortoiseshell pair. “These ones, I guess.”
    Mom nodded her approval. “Lovely.”
    Luckily (or UNluckily), they had my prescription in stock, so I was able to get the lenses fitted into the frames while we waited at the store. The saleslady fit the new glasses onto my nose, and that was that. I sighed.
    â€œWhy don’t you go wait in the mall while I finish paying?” Mom suggested. She gave me a nudge with her elbow and added, “Maybe the boys will look cuter now that you can see them.”
    I turned around so she wouldn’t see me roll my eyes. I knew she was only trying to put me in a good mood, but come on!
    I slunk out into the mall and looked at my reflection in the storefront’s glass window. I turned to the side, then faced front again. I guess the glasses didn’t look that bad. Maybe I was just slow to accept change. They’d grow on me. I’d get used to them. All that good stuff.
    I turned around to face the mall traffic. Lots of people walking by had glasses. Yesterday, I wouldn’t have even noticed. Maybe it wasn’t as big a deal as I was making it out to be.
    A howl of pain followed by mocking laughter made me look to the right. And there, headed my way, were Slade Durkin and his two older brothers. They were punching and climbing on one another like animals as they walked.
    My stomach seized. I didn’t want to deal with King of the Bullies right now.
    I glanced inside the store. Mom was still at the register, chattering away with the saleslady. I thought about heading back inside, but another yelp of pain made me look again at the Durkins.
    One of his older brothers had Slade’s arm twisted behind his back. The other brother laughed and drilled the most violent noogie I’d ever seen into Slade’s scalp. People walking by glanced at them but did nothing.
    As Slade struggled to get out of his brothers’ grip, embarrassment bloomed on his face. And for a moment