Read Online Solving Zoe by Barbara Dee - Free Book Online Page B

in Zoe’s Life was getting worse and worse by the second. If that was humanly possible.
    Zoe closed her eyes.
    Think about something else, she urged herself. Something random.
    Lizards. Arizona.
    Why is that even a word? Arizona. Anozira. Zoriana.
    Zoriana is a very cool name. But maybe for a superhero, not for an actual place.
    She thought about Isaac suddenly. Wherever he was—Arizona or Zoriana or Mars, for all she knew—he needed to hear about Deb. Even though he’d said that thing about not wanting to hear “trivialities.” But Deb’s phone calls didn’t sound trivial to Zoe. In fact, he probably should hear about them right way.
    She sighed. The last thing she felt like doing rightnow was getting out of bed and explaining all this to anyone in her family. But she really had no choice, did she? This wasn’t about her. Or about any other Bennett, although they’d have a hard time comprehending that.
    She walked into the kitchen, where Dad was stirring something weird-smelling at the stove.
    â€œOkay if I send Isaac an e-mail?” she asked, scrunching up her nose.
    â€œNot now, Zozo. I’m doing Spicy Ghana Stew. New improved recipe.” He started chopping up some bulb-shaped yellowish vegetable and tossing it into the big pot.
    â€œBut it’s really, really important, Dad.”
    â€œFine,” he said over his shoulder. “Just leave it in my Outbox, okay?”
    She nodded. Then she opened the door to the tiny office/studio where Dad worked when he was home. She clicked on his e-mail account and typed:
    Dear Mr. Wakefield,
    Sorry to bother you, but Deb called 2 times. She said if she doesn’t get a check from you she’ll call her lawyer. She sounded upset, and that’s an observation, not an overheated preteen reaction.
    Very truly yours,
Zoe Bennett
    She read it over. Then she deleted everything in the last sentence after the word “upset,” hit Send, and quietly went back to her bedroom and shut the door.

11
    On Wednesday morning at school Tyler Russo was standing a little too close to Lucas’s locker.
    â€œHow’s it going, Gargoyle?” he asked loudly. “No posttraumatic stress?”
    Lucas blushed, but he looked Tyler right in the eye, and lifted his pointy chin defiantly. “Gargoyles, at least real ones on medieval cathedrals, are incapable of stress disorders,” he replied. “They were fashioned out of stone. So really the question you’re asking is nonsensical.”
    â€œWhatever,” Tyler said. He grinned at the kids who’d begun to gather around Lucas’s locker.
    â€œMoreover,” Lucas continued, “technically all gargoyles are waterspouts. So if you’re referring to someone as ‘a non-water-spouting stone carving,’ which is I believe your intention, you should call that person a ‘grotesque.’”
    â€œOr a freak,” Tyler suggested helpfully.
    Everybody laughed.
    â€œOh, do tell us more, Dr. Info,” Leg said in a high voice. “We’re ever so enthralled.”
    Now Zoe could tell that her own cheeks were burning. But she didn’t feel obligated to rescue Lucas. Not after the crazy way he’d followed her yesterday, and all that stuff he’d said about Dara.
    And that wasn’t even counting his delusion about her . Which was maybe the weirdest thing about this weirdo kid.
    Still, she watched out of the corner of her eye as he shut his locker hurriedly and then half-ran away, head down. Why did he have to act like such a jerk in front of the other kids? Did he think they wouldn’t pick on him if he kept showing off like that? Even at Hubbard, where everyone was an expert in something, Lucas was crossing some very obvious line.
    Suddenly she heard Leg squeal. “Omigod! What is this?”
    Her locker was open, and she was waving around a small strip of white paper. Everyone crowded to get a look, including