Read Online Time to Fly by Laurie Halse Anderson - Free Book Online Page A

chairs, sipping steaming mugs of coffee.
    I open the door a crack, and Sneakers slips out and bounds onto the deck. He races to the tree, does his thing, then makes a sharp U-turn to run toward Mom, his tail wagging with interest in this still-new person.
    â€œSneakers!” I call him back. We are still mad at her. In fact, we aren’t even talking to her.
    Sneakers looks over at Mr. Cowan’s yard and barks. He’s answered by scolding squawks and shrieks. The parrots are back! I guess that explains the squawking in my dream—and why Mom and Gran are outside at dawn.
    I open the door wider and peek out. The parrots have taken over Mr. Cowan’s yard, clustered at the feeders and perched on his deck railing eating oranges. I send them some telepathy: Hey, guess who cut up those oranges for you! Me, Zoe. I’m your friend!
    Padding across the yard in my slippers, I lean over the fence and scan the birds, searching for E.T. I want him to get some of the oranges.
    The birds ignore me. They’re too busy eating. Wait a minute—there’s a little green one with a blue head, right on Mr. Cowan’s deck railing. “Phone home,” I say softly, hoping that I don’t scare them away—and that the blue-headed one will answer.
    The other birds keep eating and don’t react, but the one parrot swivels his little blue head toward me and blinks. It’s got to be E.T.!
    â€œPhone home,” I repeat, crossing my fingers.
    â€œPhone home!” the parrot squawks back. “Pretty girl! Time to fly!”
    Yes! It’s him. Thrilled, I turn to see if Gran and Mom noticed. But they’ve gone inside already. Oh well. I’d better go inside too and get ready for school.

    At the breakfast table, Mom and Gran inform me that I am not going to school today.
    I put down my toast. “How can you just decide these things without asking me?” I demand.
    Gran’s eyebrow shoots up and she gives me that warning look. She really dislikes mouthi ness. “Sorry,” I mumble. I’m not mad at her.
    â€œWe have lots to do,” Mom explains. “Gran will call your school and have your records sent out to the Beverly Hills School District, and you and I can start packing.”
    Very pleasantly and calmly, I explain back to her, “Even if I was leaving—which I’m not—I’d want to go to school to say good-bye to all my friends. Which I’m not going to do, because I am not leaving.”
    â€œOh, Zoe, you can’t be serious,” Mom says, pouring herself more coffee.
    It’s as if she doesn’t believe me. I feel my anger flare up again. “I’ve never been more serious in my life,” I tell her, slowly and emphatically.
    She looks a little taken aback, but just says, “There’s no need to be so dramatic.”
    Even Gran has to laugh at that comment coming from an actress. Then she says, “I think you should stay home too, Zoe. We need a chance to talk and make plans. How about it?” She’s obviously trying to smooth the conversation over before it blows up into a fight.
    Late as usual, Maggie comes flying down the stairs just in time to hear this. “Can I stay home too?” she asks.
    â€œNo,” Gran replies.
    â€œNo fair! Why not?”
    â€œDo the words math makeup test ring a bell?” Gran says firmly.
    Maggie glowers at me. “Lucky dog.”
    â€œMaggie, I actually want to go to school today.” I can’t wait to tell everyone about the parrots, and see if Brenna has any pictures, and discuss my parrot Web site idea with Sunita, and—
    â€œHere.” Maggie jams her baseball cap on my head. “Stuff your hair up, and you can go as me. Maybe you can ace my math test.”
    â€œNo way.” I toss the hat back at her like a Frisbee. She plunks it back on her head, slings her backpack over her shoulder, and grabs a piece of toast. She folds it like a taco