Phoebe

"So you see -- I would really appreciate having my own car."

Ivy was trying to convince Alfie to buy her a car. She hadn't yet disclosed her exact reason -- that she wanted nothing to do with me ever again, not even riding in a car with me for five minutes -- but had played the "I'm sixteen and I need a car" card. I didn't know if our father would actually get her one but I didn't stick around to find out what he said; I downed the rest of my orange juice, grabbed my granola bar, and hightailed it out of there. For one thing, I had better things to do. For another, her display was making me sick. True, I wasn't really angry at her, but I didn't like Ivy making herself seem so innocent, so needy -- especially if she most certainly was not.

When I situated myself against the oak tree, I focused on the things around me -- the rough bark at my back and to my sides, the long, reaching limbs above my head, the stone bench, and the crowds of people waiting outside.

Humans are the strangest of animals.

I was focusing on a couple of twittering birds when a slight cough brought me back to reality. A girl was sitting on the bench now and was pulling out a book from her bag. She swept back her curtain of black hair and was silent, waiting.

I started to whistle -- or rather, tried to.

'Yankee Doodle went to town riding on a pony, stuck a feather in his hat and called it macaroni.' Indeed.

I gathered my things, stood, and started to walk away, passing Kara.

"FDR. Truman. Eisenhower. JFK. Johnson. Scumbag -- oh, I meant Nixon. Ford. Georgia boy Carter. Reagan. Senior Bush. Clinton. Dub-ya."

I made my way into the building, not once glancing over my shoulder to see what Kara was doing. I paused to "tie my shoe" and a girl, walking quickly from some guy, nearly fell on top of me but somehow missed me. The guy laughed at her before asking if she was okay and helping her up.

The door opened behind me and I continued up the hallway and to the library. Every now and then I would act like I was searching for a book and I hoped Kara would take the hint. We -- I -- couldn't afford to have anyone put two and two together.

Four is the answer to everything!*

I glanced through an opening in the books on the protruding shelf, and, deeming the cattycorner safe and free of occupants, I proceeded to sit at one of the tables. I pulled out my Trig book, opened it, and placed it on the counter. Our alibi for the eye. Too bad ears still existed.

Kara finally entered the hidden corner. "You know what? You are one paranoid person, but I like you. That was good about Nixon being a scumbag."

"Can't be too careful," I admitted. "And Richard "Dick" Nixon was a scumbag. Harry Truman thought so too."

She sat down across from me. "So what's your name?"

I thought about whether or not I should tell her, but then decided that, if she was going to help me at all, she might as well know my motives as well. "Phoebe. You know the girl Kevin was -- is -- kissing on? I'm her sister."

"But you look nothing alike!" she exclaimed, shocked.

I had always gotten that reaction when Alfie told people we were father and daughter so it was no wonder that his female version -- my sister -- would have the same effect. Most people seem to have it in their mindset that sisters should look almost exactly alike -- or at least have five or six similarities. The closest thing that Ivy and I have in common is our eyes, and even though they are almost the same shade of green-brown, the eye shape is different.

"Sí, sé. Yes, I know."

"Well, I suppose I should have figured you knew her or held some grudge. So what is this all about?"

I looked past Kara's head to the bookshelves. No one seemed to be there. Still I would take precautions. Maybe Kara was right. Maybe I am paranoid. Only during wartime.

"I need your help," I declared loudly, then pointed here and there in the book. I lowered by voice so only Kara could hear me. "Ivy has wronged me in the worst possible way -- by insulting my pride. She seems to think me a person who steals peoples' boyfriends, never minding that her conduct Saturday night was probably encouraging Kevin, if anything, to cheat on your friend Sara. I am not mad at Ivy necessarily -- like you probably are -- but at her own ignorance in falling for a guy who will cheat at the first chance. I figure that Sara would like to avenge his infidelity -- knowing as I do that she punched him. So I propose we work together for his demise."

Kara smiled and mimicked my lowered voice. "I think you really should be a secret service agent or something when you're older. You are perfect for the job."

"Yes, but can you help me?" I said exasperatedly, floundering at the book. "I'll never get it by myself!"

I should be an actress.

I resumed the quiet voice. "Okay, maybe that was a lie. I mostly definitely could go through this by myself, but I think more people would benefit if it were a group thing. I'm fairly certain I'll have someone backing me so. . .?"

Kara nodded and said in a regular voice, "I'll try but I can make no promises."

"That's all I ask," I said thankfully, acting like this was still just a conversation about me getting math help.

I was pleased that Kara was going to help me but I wanted this Kevin problem solved quickly. The sooner Ivy and he were broken up, the sooner the rift between us, as sisters, would heal.

"So when should we meet? I don't know when we'll be able to discuss this -- this dratted infernal thing!"

Kara nearly laughed, but she knew better than to lest she give away we were faking. Instead, she smiled as she said, "How about my house after school?"

"I don't know," I whispered. "Is there going to be anyone there that I don't want there?"

"Just Sara, Dava, and Lisa. Oh, and I have an older brother who's out of high school, but he's never there. Plus my mom."

"Okay. I'm in. I'll ask my person if they want to be there -- if they really want to be involved." Joey might not want to get involved with my plans to bring down Kevin -- or, I thought sulkily, me.

Kara and I exchanged a few more words until the bell rang for first block, and then we left -- at different times under my order. As I left, I looked around suspiciously for people. There weren't any students in the library at all and so I breathed easily knowing that the librarian, if she overhead us at all, didn't care, or know everything, about what we were up to.