Rule of Three (7 page)

Dad got up from the couch. “Girls, I think you should shake on it.” Leave it to Dad to get corny on us.

“I think I smell my cupcakes burning!” I said.

“Then it’s settled.” He watched me until I took Alex’s hand. “Now, go forth and practice for those auditions. And may the best man win,” Dad said for us.

“May the best
actress
win,” said Alex, a little too sweetly.

“Emergency meeting of the Sisters Club,”
Joey said, all out of breath, as soon as I’d pulled my cupcakes out of the oven. “Upstairs. Now.”

“Did Alex say?” I asked.

“No. I said.”

Joey had never called a meeting of the Sisters Club. She always just bugged Alex and me to have one. But something in her eyes made me follow her.

We all piled into Alex’s room (with permission). Alex and I plopped onto her bed. Joey sat cross-legged on the fuzzy flower rug.

“Can I hold Sock Monkey?” Joey asked Alex. To my surprise, Alex handed over our mascot without arguing. Not one snotty word.

“OK, first, this meeting is officially called to order.” Joey held out her finger for the triple-pinkie handshake. “Sisters, Blisters, and Tongue Twisters,” said Joey.

“You know what? I’ve been thinking,” said Alex. “We should change our motto.
Blisters
is lame.”

“
Blood blisters
is kinda cool,” I suggested.

“And
tongue twisters
is kinda babyish,” Alex finished her thought.

“No, it isn’t,” Joey protested. “Besides, nothing else rhymes with
sisters
.”

“Misters,”
said Alex.

“Kisters,”
I said.

“Risters.”

“Listers.”

“Those aren’t even words, most of them,” Joey pointed out.

“OK, then how about . . . Lister
ine,
” I said helpfully.

“Then we might as well just be the Bad Breath Club,” said Joey.

All of a sudden, out of the blue, Alex turned to me, as if she’d been bursting to say something. “Why do you have to go out for the play, anyway? Can’t you just be happy doing the cake-off?”

So much for the truce. I was sick of her attitude. “Drop dead, Alex.”

Joey jumped up, her face ghost-white. “Don’t say that! Stevie! Take it back!”

“OK, OK. Calm down, freak show. I take it back.”

“You two have to stop fighting,” Joey pleaded, looking from Alex to me.

“She started it,” I said.

“Never mind,” said Alex. “Joey, is this why you called the meeting?”

“OK, I called us here because you guys have to stop acting so mean and awful to each other and make up. See this pin? You guys are gonna prick your fingers and mix blood with each other and promise you’ll never, ever fight again. Ever.”

“Joey, I’m not going to bleed for her, so you can just forget it,” said Alex.

“Don’t worry. I’m not about to lose blood either,” I said.

“You have to promise,” Joey pleaded. “If you don’t, Stevie, I’ll tell Alex what kind of cupcakes you’ve been making. And Alex, I’ll tell Stevie all the stuff I heard you tell Sock Monkey.”

“How do you know what I told Sock Monkey?” Alex asked accusingly.

“Maybe I hid under the bed and heard you when you were talking to Sock Monkey. Or maybe . . . I heard it through the
heating vent
. Go ahead — ask him.”

“Sock Monkey, is this true?” Alex asked. Sock Monkey nodded yes (with a little help from Joey).

“C’mon, Joey, what’s this all about?” I asked.

“Nothing. You’re my sisters. And you’re always fighting. And think about it — one of you could die, and I don’t think you should waste any more time being mad at each other. When you could die, I mean. Sisters can die, you know.”

I looked over at Alex. She raised her eyebrows back at me.

“Sisters fight sometimes, Joey. It’s normal.”

I pointed a finger at Joey, squinting my eyes with suspicion. “Joey, did you by any chance read Chapter 40?”

“Yes.”

“Without me, I mean?”

“Yes.”

“You read Mom’s book?”

“Yes.”

“Joey! I told you not to! It was for your own good. Why do you think I hid the book inside a cereal box in the kitchen cupboard?” I stopped, still pointing my finger at her. “Hey, how’d you find it, anyway?”

Alex had been moving her head back and forth between us. “Wait. You mean she knows?”

I nodded.

“About Beth?”

I nodded again.

Joey stood up. Her eight-and-three-quarter-inch ponytail whipped around from side to side, and she was madly waving her hands at us. “I know, OK? Beth dies. You lied to me, Stevie. You said you’d read me Chapter 40, and it wasn’t even the real true story.”

“It’s just a book, Joey,” Alex said. “A story. It’s not real.”

“It is to me.”

“I’m sorry, Duck. I was wrong,” I told my little sister. “I just knew how sad it would make you if Beth died, and I didn’t want you to be sad.”

“Blast and wretch. Now I’m sad, but I’m kinda mad, too.”

“Joey, think of it as Shakespeare,” said Alex. “Like
Romeo and Juliet.
It’s a tragedy.”

“Yeah, Duck, at least Beth didn’t fling herself on top of a dagger or get her head chopped off.”

“She just closed her eyes and went to sleep, right?” said Alex.

“Yep. See, aren’t you glad? Because getting her head chopped off would be bad. Then you’d have to feel sad and mad and bad.”

“I do anyway.”

“Want to go downstairs and put the book back in the cereal box?” I asked Joey, thinking it might make her feel better. “Wait. You can’t. We still have seven chapters left to read. Seven
happy
chapters.”

“Yeah, Duck, only one more person dies.”

“What? Who? Not Laurie. Please don’t say Laurie. Or Jo. Wait, don’t tell me!”

“Al-ex!” I said. Sometimes my big sister could be so dense.

“Sorry,” said Alex. “But Stevie’s right. Lots of good stuff happens. People get married and have babies and pick apples and all kinds of stuff.”

“Hey, stop telling me.
Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
” Joey sang, covering her ears until Alex stopped.

“And there are still three sisters left. Like us. You, me, and Alex.”

“I still think you should prick your fingers and exchange blood and promise you’ll never fight again.”

“We can’t promise, Duck. Even the sisters in
Little Women
fight.”

“Yeah, Jo and Amy are always fighting and mad at each other. Remember when Amy burns Jo’s book she’s writing? But they always make up again.”

Joey made a sour face. “Sisters, Kisters, and Listerine,” she said in her blast-and-wretch voice.

BYE BYE ALEX

Starring Alex

Me
:
(Knock, knock.)
Hey, guys, are you doing anything?

Stevie
: Yes. Yes, we are. But it’s none of your beeswax.

Me
: Whatever. I just need to borrow Joey.

Joey
: What for?

Stevie
: You can’t. She’s too sad. About Beth — you know.
(Fakes tears streaming down face, but Joey is smiling.)

Me
: That was two days ago!
(Digging toe into carpet.)
Joey said she’d help me pick a song for my audition.

Joey
: I’m right here!

Stevie
: Well, for your information, she’s helping
me
right now.

Joey
: I am. I’m helping her. But I could help you . . .
to-mor-row. (Grins, looking over at Stevie, and points to notebook.)

Me
: What? I don’t get it. What’s going on?

Stevie
: Hey, don’t look at me. I’m just minding my own business over here
in my own little corner. (Stevie and Joey spray spit, laughing.)

Me
: Look, can I talk to Joey — alone — for just a sec?

Stevie
: It’s OK. You can say stuff in front of me. It’s not like I’m going to steal your song or anything.

Me
: Well, see, I know both Maria Martinez and Jayden Pffeffer will be going out for the same part, and they both take Voice and they’re in chorus and Maria will sing “Over the Rainbow” just because she always does, but Jayden —”

Stevie
: How do you solve a problem like
Maria
? And Jayden, too. She’s really
Popular.

Joey
:
(Leans back on bed and howls.)

Me
:
(Impatient.)
Thanks a lot, you guys. This is so not helping.

Joey
: But we
are
helping you. Honest.

Me
: Yeah, right. And how is acting like preschoolers helping me?

Stevie
:
(Walks over to Joey and grabs list, ripping off the top part.)
Here. We were making a list of songs. Go ahead. Take it.

Joey
: But that’s not even —

Stevie
:
(Covering Joey’s mouth.)
Never mind, Duck. Just let her have it. She says we’re not helping. So now we’re helping.

Me
:
(Standing in doorway, looking bewildered.)
Thanks, I guess.

Joey
:
(Takes away Stevie’s hand.)
But that’s not fair!

Alex
: What’s not fair?

Stevie
:
(Striking Shakespeare pose.)
All’s fair in love and sisters.

Me
: You guys are weird, you know that?

Stevie
: Go ahead. Take it. Go.
(Makes shooing-dog motion with hands.)
OK. Bye-bye, then.

Joey
:
(Calling after Alex.)
Bye-bye, Birdie!

Me
:
(Leaves room, taking list. Sisters behind me mumbling and grumbling — Joey saying “not fair” and Stevie telling Joey to get over it.)

A half hour later, I was humming songs
inside my head when I heard Alex’s door open. I sprang up and grabbed Joey’s sleeve as she waltzed down the hall, pulling her into our room and shutting the door.

“Hey, Joey. C’mere. You have to tell me. What song is Alex going to sing for the audition?”

Joey scowled at me like I had
Fink Face
tattooed across my forehead. “I can’t tell you! It’s a secret.”

“Please? Pretty please with the World’s-Best-Sister cupcakes on top? You know you’re going to tell me eventually. So why not save some time and tell me now?”

“Who says I’m going to tell you?”

“You will. Because I will sit on you and tickle you to death until you give it up.”

“Go ahead — I’ll never tell!”

I wrestled Joey to the floor, sat on her, and pinned her arms back. “You asked for it.” I let go of her arms and tickled her as hard as I could.

“OK! OK! Stop! You win!” Joey squealed. “Uncle! I call Uncle!”

“So you’ll tell me?”

“On one condition. You have to tell me
your
song. That way, I still get to know a secret that nobody else knows.”