Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Chapter One Chapter One
TEMPLE BAXTER STARED AT THE woman who was single-handedly ruining her life. She was pretty sure moms were put on this earth to get in the way of what their kids wanted.
“Stop. Just stop,” her mom said.
Problem was, her mom was her only hope of attending the biggest sleepover of the year. Seriously. The biggest. Everyone who was anyone would be there.
Everyone but Temple.
The “But Mom” froze behind Temple’s lips. Her mom had ordered her to stop. If she kept going, she could end up grounded or something, and then she’d have bigger problems than not being able to go to the sleepover.
But here was the issue. If Temple couldn’t talk her mom into letting her go to the sleepover, she was sunk. Her dad was the “It’s okay with me if it’s okay with your mom” type. At the very least, he’d ask what her mom had said.
There had to be a way.
“Oogha!”
That came from her three-year-old sister, Kennedy, who was going through a loud phase. She was playing with a stack of random toys she’d pulled out of her toy box and dragged into the kitchen. She wasn’t helping Temple plead her case with all that yelling. It was stressing their mom out.
“Could you take Kennedy to the living room?” Mom asked as she opened the oven and slid dinner inside. Some sort of potato-and-chicken concoction she’d seen on social media. “I just need a minute.”
That was the problem with having a sibling so much younger. These days, Temple felt more like a babysitter than an older sister.
Her mom straightened and sighed, closing her eyes. She was “practicing mindfulness.” Temple noticed that her mom did that more often these days—taking a few extra minutes in the car alone after they got home, disappearing into the bathroom for a little longer than it should take to go…
And guess who watched Kennedy while she did all that? Temple, of course. Which was fine, but maybe sometimes Temple needed a few extra minutes.
Sighing, Temple scooped up Kennedy and headed for the living room. Kennedy didn’t like the change in scenery. In fact she let out a shriek, then started whining about her “croc-dile.” She had a green plastic crocodile that had become her constant companion. Temple wondered if she should go back and get it.
But Kennedy’s whines gradually quieted—like someone had pressed the volume-down button on a remote control—when she saw the TV. She loved the TV. And Temple knew exactly what would give her the time she needed to check in with her friends. Squeaky Pete.
“Here you go,” Temple said, setting Kennedy on the giant beanbag that was her favorite. Unlocking her phone, Temple plopped onto the sofa behind her sister and started scrolling through all the texts that she’d missed.
She’d barely gotten through them when she heard the front door open. Dad? Already?
“Daddy!”
Kennedy jumped up and ran toward the foyer, leaving her favorite cartoon mouse hopping around on the screen, unwatched. Great. Now that Dad was home, Temple had to shove her phone aside and greet him.
Temple was starting to see how her mom felt. Could she not have five minutes to check in with her friends?
“Daddy!” Now Kennedy was laughing. “Eww.”
As Temple walked up behind her sister, she saw what she meant. Their dad was drenched from head to toe, even though he had a gigantic umbrella in his right hand. Had he walked home from work?
“It’s really coming down out there,” he said, setting the umbrella in the corner. Mom wasn’t going to like that. It was already making a little puddle on the hardwood floors.
“Did you walk home from work?” Temple asked. She’d walked from the bus stop and hadn’t gotten that wet.
“I had to park seven blocks from my building. You know how the wind downtown is.” Dad shook his head, shaking even more water droplets onto the floor. “I’m going to change. Let your mom know I’m home.”
Temple wasn’t interrupting her mom’s break. No way. She just nodded and grabbed Kennedy’s hand, tugging her back toward the living room.
Luckily, Kennedy was eager to get back to Squeaky Pete. Temple plopped back in her spot on the sofa.
U riding with us Saturday, Temple? one of the earlier text messages had read.
Temple set her phone down and looked toward the window. The rain was coming down so hard, you could hear it even with the TV on. How long had it been pouring? It felt like all day.
How did she tell her friends she couldn’t go to the sleepover? They already thought her parents were the worst. When they went to the movies, she had to be home by ten o’clock, and her mom made her check in everywhere she went. It was super annoying.
I can’t go, she finally typed. Then she tossed her phone to the far cushion of the couch.
There. She’d done it. She’d let them know. No need to check to see what they’d say next. The texts would all come at once.
Why?
You have to go.
Can’t you talk them into it?
She couldn’t look. But she wanted to look. She had to look.
“Temple!”
Her mom was calling for her. It wasn’t her you’re in trouble voice. It was her can you help me for a minute? one. Leaving her phone to do its light show on the sofa—she could see the screen flickering with notifications from here—Temple headed for the kitchen.
“Set the table, please.”
Setting the table was Temple’s super-secret favorite thing to do. Sometimes she even folded the napkins into fun shapes. They never discussed it, but she was pretty sure her mom knew she loved making the table pretty for meals, which was why she always called her in here to do it.
As Temple took plates and silverware to the table, she thought about her best friend, Billie. She loved sleeping over at Billie’s house. Her parents were so cool. Like, if she was ever a mom, that was exactly the kind of parent she’d want to be.
“Billie’s parents do food delivery every night,” Temple announced to no one in particular. Her mom was the only person in the room with her. She wished they were ordering takeout instead of eating chicken and whatever again.
“Well, money must grow on trees over there at Billie’s house,” Mom said as she walked to the table, holding the dish with two giant potholders on either side. “We’d rather put that extra money into your college fund.”
Ah, the college fund. Her parents loved bringing that up. How did they even know she wanted to go to college? She wanted to be a party planner. Maybe a wedding planner. She could do both without a college education. She’d looked it up.
“It’s ready!” Mom called.
Dad appeared, Kennedy in his arms. He set her on her booster seat and took his usual spot at the end of the table opposite Mom.
Okay, maybe Mom’s cooking wasn’t all that bad. She’d made these cheesy potatoes to go with the oven-fried chicken, and both were delicious. Still, it would be nice to have a takeout night.
“The water at the dam is getting pretty high,” Dad said as he scooped the largest chicken breast onto his plate.
The dam again. Everyone seemed obsessed with it. Every time it rained lately, someone brought it up. They’d been saying forever that it was going to break, which was supposedly bad. Temple didn’t know why someone didn’t fix it if that was the case, but she really didn’t know much about dams. Or care.
“Doesn’t sound like the rain is going to let up soon.” Mom shook her head. “What a mess. Temple, elbows off the table.”
Elbows on tables were her mom’s pet peeve. That and talking with your mouth full. And slurping your water or soup or any other liquid. Basically, Mom’s nerves were constantly frayed.
“What’s new in your world, buttercup?” Dad asked.
“Not much.” Temple shrugged. “Just studying.”
Actually, she was way behind on that, but he didn’t have to know the fine details. What she really wanted to talk about was the big sleepover, but her mom would not like that. Not one bit.
“Temple’s classmates have a big sleepover coming up next weekend,” Mom said. She sighed. “Biggest sleepover ever, apparently. Everyone from the president to the king of England will be there.”
Okay, Mom didn’t need to be so dramatic about it. Temple would rather attend a sleepover with Billie and Erin and Pandora and Lily than the king of England and the president of the United States anyway.
It was Pandora Marshall’s party, after all. Pandora Marshall. Pandora was far more important than the king of England. She was the most popular girl in school. She was pretty, smart, and made people laugh. Everyone wanted to be Pandora Marshall, including Temple.
And now Pandora was Temple’s friend. Billie had become friends with her last summer, and since Billie and Temple were BFFs, she got to join the friend group too. Pandora, Billie, Erin, Lily, and Temple were the fearless five.
So why did Temple always feel like she was on the outskirts of the group, just trying to get in?
“That so,” Dad said.
It was clear from the tone of his voice that he wasn’t interested. He wasn’t even listening. He was lost in thought as he took a big bite of his roll, followed immediately with a generous bite of potatoes.
Temple took a deep breath and kept her voice calm as she said more. “Pandora’s mom let her invite our entire grade to her sleepover. So there will be forty of us. She has a movie theater in her house.”
Dad was looking at her now. That was a good sign, right? Maybe she could make her argument so good, he’d say she should go. She had to get him to say that she could go.
“Good thing you go to an all-girls school, huh?” Dad laughed as he looked at Mom, who was not laughing. Not even close. She was seconds from telling him that she’d said no.
“That’s what I meant by ‘everyone’s going to be there,’?” Temple rushed to say. “Everyone in my class. They’re all going. Pandora’s the most popular, most awesome person anywhere.”
Dad looked at Mom. His expression said, Can you believe this? But he said nothing. Neither did her mom.
“Because she has a movie theater?” Dad asked.
“No. I mean, that doesn’t hurt.” Temple tried to think of a way to explain why Pandora was so popular. Everyone just liked her. “She’s really pretty and funny and smart….”
She couldn’t say Pandora was nice. Pandora was not always nice, actually. Sometimes she said mean things about people when they weren’t around, but Temple didn’t want Pandora to talk bad about her, so she laughed along.
It always bugged Temple a little, though. She’d never tell anyone that. It was something she kept super secret. But when Pandora was mean, a big part of Temple wondered what she said about her when she wasn’t around.
“Sounds like a fun time,” Dad said. “I’ll tell you what. Spend at least two hours a night studying, and you can go.”
Temple’s eyes widened. Did she dare think that she might get away with this? She wanted to look at her mom, but she was afraid that if she did, she’d give away her excitement. She didn’t want to do anything that might hurt her chances of getting to go to the sleepover of the year.
“I told her she couldn’t go,” Mom said.
Now Temple looked at her mom. She gave her mom her best puppy-dog eyes. Maybe she could somehow appeal to her soft side.
But Mom wasn’t looking at Temple. Instead she tilted her head slightly as she looked at Dad. The expression screamed, Really? But her dad said nothing.
A silent tug-of-war happened between the two of them. It was a Mom-Dad thing. They had these little silent arguments all the time, and somehow, along the way, they came to an agreement about what they were going to do. Temple figured mind reading was one of the things that happened after you’d been married long enough.
“Okay,” Mom said. “But only if you study for two hours a night. Not every other night, but every single night. Got it?”
Temple wanted to hop up and run over to hug her mom. Then her dad. Then maybe even Kennedy. She was so happy.
Only after she’d left the table and returned to her room did Temple realize what she’d promised. Studying two hours a night wouldn’t be easy. Not with her short attention span.
