The Messy Life of Blue Read online

  “I was watching TV, minding my own business, when your son came in and tried to change the channel.”

  “It’s my birthday. I should get to watch whatever I want,” Jackson demanded.

  “Queen of England!” Arnie shouted.

  “No more TV,” my dad said. “Go do something else.”

  I stomped back to my bedroom and slammed the door. Jackson was such a baby. I stayed in my room for the rest of the morning, reading a book, until my dad called me downstairs. He looked like he’d been attacked by a party monster—he was buried underneath piles of colorful decorations.

  “Can you do me a favor, Blue?” He pointed to a large helium tank he’d rented from a party store. “Can you start blowing up the balloons?”

  I grabbed a pair of scissors and cut about twenty or so strings to tie on the ends. Then I rifled through the bag of balloons and pulled out all the pink ones. Jackson hated the color pink. And even though my dad always said “revenge is a dish best served cold,” I disagreed. In Jackson’s case, I thought it was best served pink.

  “I still think you should have hired a clown,” I said.

  “Very funny, Blue. You know how scared Jackson is of clowns.”

  “Is he? I totally forgot.” I tried to sound innocent, but I don’t think it worked.

  When I finished with the balloons, I helped my dad hang streamers. We twisted the brightly colored paper from one end of the dining room to the other. Balloons were tied to chairs and on the mailbox in front of the house. I had just started some music when the icky-sticky guests began to arrive. I was already at the top of the stairs, ready to hide, when I heard the most awful sound on the planet.

  Crybaby-Jared’s voice.

  I ran back down the stairs so fast that I fell down the last three steps. I didn’t care. I brushed myself off just as Crybaby-Jared entered the hall.

  “Thanks so much for having me, Mr. Warren,” Crybaby-Jared was saying in his nasally voice. When he saw me dangling from the staircase, he gave me a smirky grin. I wanted to slap those freckles right off his smug little face. Instead, I whined almost as bad as him.

  “What is Crybaby-Jared doing here?”

  My dad looked confused. “Jackson invited him to the party. I thought you knew?”

  “I did not know,” I answered, with my hand on my hip. “I was not informed that the enemy would be inside my house.”

  “Blue, that’s not how we speak to our guests.”

  “That’s because he’s not a guest. He’s a Crybaby-Jared!”

  I turned away and marched up the stairs before my dad could say anything else. I rounded the corner to my room, and there stood Jackson, with two of his slimy friends beside him.

  “You!” I pointed at him like a crazy woman. “Why did you invite Crybaby-Jared?!” My finger was shaking.

  “Jared and I happen to be great friends.”

  “Now I know you’re lying, because Crybaby-Jared doesn’t have any friends!”

  Jackson took a step forward. “Maybe I am. Maybe I invited Crybaby-Jared as a birthday present to myself. Maybe I just wanted to see the look on your face when your greatest enemy spent the entire day and night in your house.”

  I lunged at him, but he dodged me and hopped down the stairs, followed by his two goons.

  “I’ll get even with you, Jackson! You wait and see!”

  He waved without even glancing back.

  I slammed my door and paced around my room. Oh, this meant war! Crybaby-Jared in my home? How did something like this even happen?

  It took me almost an hour to muster up my nefarious plan, but as soon as I did, I ran across the street to Kevin’s house. I needed some serious reinforcement, and I knew Kevin had the goods.

  “Hey, do you still have that clown costume from Halloween a couple weeks ago?” I asked him in the way of a greeting.

  “Yes, I think so. Why?”

  “I’ll tell you on the way. Where is it?” I pushed him back inside his house and followed when he led me to a large closet at the end of the hall. He rifled through a couple of boxes while I spilled the details of my revenge.

  “I don’t know, Blue. What if we get in trouble? What if my mom finds out?”

  I waved away his concerns with a flip of my hand. “Just do it, Kevin. Remember that time Sophie Dean Thomas pushed you down the slide and you fell down and landed on your hand? Who was the one who poked her in the eye after?”

  “You,” Kevin answered with his eyes cast down.

  “And that time we were at the petting zoo and the goat started eating your sweater? Who was the one who pulled you away from that ravenous animal?”

  “It tore off half my sweater.”

  “But I saved your arm, didn’t I? That’s the important part, so you owe me.”

  Kevin shook his head, but I knew I had him. We chose a time and made a pact to meet later that night. Then we shook on it with the triple-slap-elbows-knock-two-fisted pinky swear. The most sacred pinky swear of all.

  I could hear Crybaby-Jared cackling like a hyena down-stairs, and it made my skin crawl. I shook off the chills his voice gave me and tried to concentrate on more pleasant sounds. Like nails on a chalkboard. Or a baby’s shrill cry. Or a metal fork scraping against a glass plate.

  Seth passed by my bedroom and poked his head in. “You locking yourself in here all night?”

  I nodded. “Where’ve you been?” I asked him.

  “Around,” was his only answer. I heard his bedroom door close a moment later. I thought about asking him to help, but I was afraid he would try to talk me out of it.

  Around nine o’clock, I heard the beastly boys file into the family room and set up their sleeping bags for the night. Jackson had picked The Avengers for the movie, and when I heard the familiar music start, I knew the time had come. I left to meet Kevin outside.

  Only, once I was out there, he was nowhere to be seen. I thought we’d agreed to meet by the big rosebush next to my mailbox, but he wasn’t there. The moon was full, but it was still dark out. A chill ran down my spine, and when an owl hooted in the distance, I jumped. I glanced toward Kevin’s house and was about to cross the street to get him when something grabbed me from behind.

  I whirled around, ready to punch the ghost in the face and run inside my house. But what I saw next was so frightening, I couldn’t have screamed even if I’d tried.

  Kevin was dressed up in his clown costume just like we’d talked about, but his makeup was something straight out of a horror movie. Long, sharp teeth leftover from what must have been a vampire costume complemented the blood dripping down his chin perfectly. They gave it just the right touch of creepiness. I was about to tell him when thunder boomed in the distance.

  I looked up at the sky, and a fat raindrop slapped against my forehead. “Quick! Your makeup will smear!”

  We ran into my house and softly closed the door. When he smiled at me, I shivered. The bloody grin was evil and dreadful and absolutely perfect.

  “You. Are. My. Hero.”

  “Are you sure your dad won’t get mad?” Kevin’s nervous energy was bringing down the overall creep factor. I had to keep him calm.

  “It’ll be fine. It’s just a harmless prank.” I wasn’t so sure. “We do stuff like this all the time.” Total lie.

  “Okay. If you say so.”

  He followed me toward the family room, and I motioned for him to wait there. I crept down the hall, stealthlike and slow, and peeked around the doorway. The boys were lined up on the floor like a pack of greasy sausages. They had their backs to us, so I gave Kevin a thumbs-up. We booked it to the other side of the room.

  Once we reached the storage closet, I followed Kevin into the darkness and quietly closed the door. I could vaguely make out his shadow when something behind him suddenly moved.

  “Kevin?” I whispered. I felt him start to shake next to me, and then I knew. . . . We weren’t alone.

  “Kevin?” I whispered again, softer this time, but he still didn’
t say anything.

  I backed away fast and knocked into the door behind me. I turned from the door and bumped into something soft. Was that Kevin?

  And then I heard the breathing. Kevin’s. Mine. And most definitely someone else’s. I was turning to leave when a hand reached from behind and covered my mouth. I tried to scream and struggle, but they had me pinned against the wall.

  “Don’t move,” a gravelly voice whispered in my ear. I could hear Kevin fighting with someone else in the darkness, and suddenly I couldn’t breathe. We were going to die. I knew it. Seconds before I was about to pass out, the light flicked on, and where there should have been only one clown, there were now three.

  “Seth?” I mumbled against a white-gloved hand. He slowly moved it off my face. “Are you crazy? What are you doing in here?”

  “It looks like I’m doing the same thing you’re doing.” He grinned.

  Seth’s clown face was even scarier than Kevin’s. Seth nodded to the other clown—his friend Ty—and Ty released his hold on Kevin. My heart was still pounding in my chest, and I felt like I was going to be sick.

  “You almost gave me a heart attack,” I whispered angrily. “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “I didn’t want you to scream. We worked really hard on these costumes.”

  I began to relax as my good fortune finally sank in. We now had three clowns. There was a very good chance that we would make Jackson pee his pants. Like, actually pee. Whiz down his scrawny little leg.

  “What’s your plan?” I asked Seth. “We were just going to jump out and scare them.”

  “Same here.”

  “What if we split up?” Kevin asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “One of us chases them one way, one of us chases them the other way, and one of us blocks the door.”

  “I like how you think, Kevin,” Seth said. “You take the door,” he told Ty. “Kevin and I will do the chasing. Are you ready?” We all nodded.

  “Wait. What do I do?” I asked. Seth laughed.

  “You have the most important job of all. Here.” He handed me a tiny camcorder. “Take the video.”

  “Big brother, I have never loved you more.”

  I turned the camcorder on, then snuck out of the closet and hid behind the couch, just out of view but close enough to see all the action. I hit RECORD just as the first clown tiptoed out. Seth made his way toward the half-wits still sprawled out across the floor. Thunder shook the windows, and at that exact moment, Seth the Clown pounced on the scrawny little toads.

  The room erupted in screams, and I had to contain my laughter in order to keep the camera from shaking. The boys jumped out of their sleeping bags, running away from Seth—and right into the arms of Kevin. He beamed his evil smile and they retreated, but Seth was blocking the way they had come. The boys moved as one terrified herd of sheep toward the doorway, but Ty stood in front of the only exit out of this nightmare.

  Then Crybaby-Jared lived up to his name. He immediately began to cry.

  Jackson finally noticed me in the corner, where I was watching it all go down with the camcorder still recording. He stopped screaming and stormed over, ripping the camera out of my hands.

  “You think this is funny?”

  “Yes. Yes, I do.” I spun just in time to dodge his punch and then Seth was by my side. Jackson scooted away from his clown face.

  “Don’t be mad at Blue. It wasn’t all her idea.”

  “You ruined my party!” Jackson spat.

  “You invited Crybaby-Jared!”

  Jackson was about to say more, but when he turned around, he stopped. The clown masks were now off, and most everyone was laughing and high-fiving. I guess being scared half to death makes you really happy to be alive. Crybaby-Jared, for obvious reasons, was not laughing. And neither was Jackson. I watched as Jackson rejoined his group of guppies and tried to go along with it, even though he was still staying clear of the other two clowns. He tried to laugh and smile with the rest of his guests, but it looked wobbly and forced.

  I quickly checked his pants, but there were no pee stains. Oh, well. There was always next year.

  6

  Every Saturday morning I woke up earlier than the rest of my family to watch a new episode of Family Tree. It’s about a girl named London Malloy whose mother dies, so she and her brother go to live with their two uncles. I loved it so much. I was positive it was about her real life, too. London Malloy was the name of the actress—and the character on the show. That couldn’t be a coincidence.

  I always wondered how it must be for London Malloy to pretend that she lost her mom on a television show after losing her in real life. I was pretty sure I couldn’t do it, but London Malloy was such an amazing actress, she could probably do anything.

  Also, I knew we would be best friends if we ever met.

  I mean, she had a brother and I had a brother—well, three brothers. But we were both in fifth grade. We both liked the color red, and we both liked pizza. She had a dog on the show, which meant she probably had one in real life—and I had a dog, too. Plus, we both had dark brown hair.

  But the most important thing of all was that she understood my entire existence. She was one of the few people who knew what it was like to lose your mom. To have to live without her for the rest of your whole life. Not a lot of people could say that.

  London Malloy was my true kindred spirit.

  I was so tired from the night before that I almost slept through the season finale of Family Tree, which would’ve been soul-crushing in every way. This is because my dad came up with a new game last night after dinner. I called this one: EVERYBODY PICK UP YOUR STUFF RIGHT NOW BEFORE I BREAK MY NECK.

  It’s not as fun as it sounds.

  I did learn a few things, though. For instance, I have a lot of shoes. It also turns out that I very rarely put any of those shoes away . . . and I take them off everywhere. It was like an Easter egg hunt without the chocolate or jelly beans. Instead, my prizes were crusty old socks and an unusual number of pebbles that get caught in my shoes during recess.

  Anyways, I’d barely managed to wake up in time to watch London Malloy and Family Tree. Nervous that I’d already missed the beginning, I quickly flipped on the TV. When I heard the familiar theme song, my body relaxed with relief. I curled up in a blanket and bounced my feet to the beat of the music.

  By the time the first commercials started, I was good and hungry. I jumped up to grab a Pop-Tart, but I never made it to the kitchen. Instead, I froze in place when the most glorious news came out of my television.

  The TV show was hosting a nationwide contest.

  The grand prize winner would go to Los Angeles next summer.

  The grand prize winner would visit the set of Family Tree.

  The grand prize winner would meet London Malloy!

  I snatched up the remote and raised the volume, jumping up and down, trying not to scream. It was a dream come true. I had to win. I would do anything to win.

  How could I win?

  I took some deep breaths so I could try to calm down and focus on what they were saying. It was simple, really. To enter, I needed to draw a picture of my family and mail it in. I scrambled for a piece of paper and quickly wrote down the address displayed on the screen.

  Pop-Tart long forgotten, I barely paid attention to the rest of the show. Instead, my mind raced with all the possibilities. I had to win this contest. If I met London Malloy, my life would be complete. We were destined to meet. We were fated to be friends. No—best friends.

  As soon as the episode ended, I ran straight to my room. I pulled out my Mom List and read again the part about her being an amazing artist. She could draw just about anything: animals, people, mountains, and beaches. She was a phenomenal artist.

  Phenomenal.

  I wanted more than anything to be phenomenal like my mom, and this was my chance at a do-over. I could finally forget my solo singing debacle. Not only did I have the opportunity to win a
trip to meet London Malloy, the greatest actress ever, but I also had another shot at making my mother proud. I needed this more than anything. I had to make this happen.

  It didn’t take long to realize that I had a lot of work to do. After drawing and erasing and sketching my family for more than an hour, Arnie looked like a potato and Seth’s head was as big as his entire body. Jackson looked like a toad, so I obviously drew him perfectly, but the others definitely needed some help.

  I made my way downstairs and found my dad sitting at the kitchen table, his reading glasses dangling from his nose as he read a thick book. I bumped into the table when I flopped down on my chair, sloshing his coffee all over the place.

  “Blue, be careful,” he said, shaking the hot liquid off one of the pages.

  “I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “But I need your help with something.” Before I could finish, Jackson came into the kitchen, his hair sticking up and his face all groggy with sleep.

  My dad raised his eyebrows at the same time his mouth twitched. “Rough night there, Jacks?”

  Jackson rubbed his eyes and yawned as he sat down at the table. He didn’t spill our dad’s coffee, which was just luck, if you ask me. I turned my attention back to Dad. “As I was saying, I need your help.”

  My dad looked over his glasses at me. “Okay. What do you need help with?”

  “I need to learn how to draw our family, because there’s this contest and it’s really, really important that I win.” Jackson’s head shot up and he suddenly looked alert. I ignored him, like usual. “So I was wondering if I could take a drawing class.”

  My dad shrugged. “I don’t see why not. We can look into signing you up for a class at the Art Institute. Your mom used to teach there after Seth was born, and Jackson’s taken a few classes there as well.”

  I bounced up and down in my seat. My dad grabbed his coffee and held it off the table.

  “Can we sign up today? Like, right now?”

  My dad chuckled. “I doubt they have a class today, but let’s go online and look at their schedule.”

  “I need to take a drawing class in the next eight days. My picture needs to be postmarked by December twenty-second, which is the Monday after next weekend. Do you think we can find a class before then?”