Читать книгу Dance, Belle, Dance! - Beth Huffman - Страница 5

I couldn’t wait to meet my 2^nd grade teacher at the open house. Everyone in my family was ready to go except my sister. That was no surprise. We always have to wait on Belle. If that isn’t bad enough, she’s hyper and loud all the time. She has a way of turning things into disasters. I let Mom know that I wasn’t going to be late.

“Let’s go! Dad can bring Belle later.”

“Macey, run upstairs and check on her. She should have her clothes changed by now.”

“It isn’t my job to check on her. She’s been in her room an hour. We both know she isn’t ready. Do you even care if she ruins my night?”

“That’s enough, young lady. You’re not going to speak to me like that.”

I should have apologized but I didn’t. Instead, I ran from the kitchen and raced up the stairs. I didn’t think it was possible to be any madder than I was. Wrong! I blew up when I saw her fidgeting with all her socks that were scattered on the bedroom floor.

I screamed, “Are you kidding me? We need to go and you haven’t even changed your clothes yet! Why are you staring at your stupid socks?”

She wasn’t the least bit fazed. I could tell by the blank expression on her face. She looked up and said, “Macey, should I wear pink socks or blue socks?”

I jerked the pink ones from her hand. “Get on your bed now! I’m dressing you. If you’re going to act like a baby, then I’ll treat you like one.”

“I’m not either a baby. Say you’re sorry.”

“Shut up, Belle! I mean it. Hold still.”

Mom heard all the yelling. I thought sure she’d get mad at us for fighting but she didn’t. She was more upset when she saw the bed. It was covered with piles of clothes that Belle had pulled from her closet. She took a deep breath and said, “Dad’s waiting for us. Let’s go.”

I have to admit that I was squeezing Belle’s hand all the way to the car. That’s probably why she started crying. I didn’t care.

“Mom, Macey hurt my hand real bad. It’s all red. Is she in trouble?”

Dad cut her off. “That’s enough! You’re both going to be in trouble if I hear one more word. Belle, stop crying. You’re meeting your kindergarten teacher tonight. You don’t want Mrs. Heldman to see you in tears, do you?”

I wanted to say, “Nice job, Dad. You just asked Belle for her opinion. Haven’t you figured out by now that whatever she says won’t make sense?”

I knew she’d start whining. She sounded so clueless.

“No, I don’t want Mrs. Heldman to see me crying. I’m going to tell her that Macey hurt my hand on purpose. I think she broke it. She’s always mean to me. She said my socks are stupid. I think I hate her. I think I’m never talking to her again. She’s the worst sister in the world. I wish she’d move away.”

I looked out the window and tried not to laugh. When Mom turned around to make eye contact with her, I knew exactly what was coming. They were the rules that Belle wouldn’t follow.

“Please quit kicking the back of my seat and listen to me. I expect you to hold Daddy’s hand tonight and to use your quiet voice at all times. Be on your best behavior and make us proud of you. Do you understand?”

There was no answer. Mom repeated the question. “Belle, do you hear me? We’re close to the school. Are you paying attention?”

So once again I thought to myself, “Did you really just ask her if she’s paying attention, Mom? She never does. You know that. She didn’t hear a word you said because she’s been fiddling with some paper clips for the last five minutes. In case you haven’t noticed, she’s never stopped kicking the back of your seat.”

Belle still hadn’t responded when Dad parked the car. That’s because she had other things on her mind - like unfastening her seat belt, jumping out, running to the front door of the school building and shouting, “Macey, I beat you!”

I covered my face. I didn’t want anyone to know she was my sister. I was as sarcastic as possible when I said to Mom, “She’s done a great job of holding Dad’s hand and using her quiet voice tonight, hasn’t she? I bet you’re really proud of her, aren’t you?”

They hurried to catch up with her in fear of what she might do next. I could hear Dad yelling at her for taking off and never looking to see if any cars were coming. I’m pretty sure she missed the point because she interrupted him and said, “Let’s go to the playground, Macey!”