P h a s e 2 : Looking the Part

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Arabelle gasped in mock horror, pushing me playfully.  “You jerk!”  She grinned as I pushed her back.  “Keep it up.”

I sighed.  “So how will we know I’m ready or not?”

Arabelle smiled mischievously, and I instantly regretted asking.  I was not going to like this.  “You’re going to get in a fight with Dad!” she exclaimed giddily.  “We’ll do it a few days before you go, so you can pull the silent treatment.  You know I’m famous for those.”

And she was.  Every time she and my dad got in a fight, she would ignore him for days—maybe even weeks depending on what the argument was over.  It’d been two weeks since my dad sentenced Arabelle to delinquent camp, and she just started talking to him again yesterday.  And she didn’t even say much.  She said, “Pass the salt.”

My dad passed her the pepper, too.  I wondered if they were on silent terms again.

“You’re not going to give him the silent treatment for passing the pepper, are you?” I inquired, sitting up and dropping my arms carelessly on my lap.

“Of course not.”  Arabelle sat up, grinning.  “I got pay back.”

I frowned.  “What did you do—?”

Arabelle Winters!

Arabelle laughed mercilessly until she seemed to realize something.  “Shit,” she whispered.  “Put your hair back down!” she hissed.  “Dad can’t suspect anything.”

My eyes widened and I hurried to pull the elastic band out of my hair.  I threw it to the floor, fluffing out my hair.  “What did you do?” I demanded as Arabelle rushed to my bedroom door.  She opened it, sticking her head out.  I sighed deeply.  I did not want to be caught in a fight between these two. 

“I may or may not have shaved his head last night while he was sleeping.”

My mouth dropped.  “Seriously?

Arabelle grinned.  “Wait and you’ll see.”

I jumped off my bed, scurrying to the door and poking my head out.  My dad was storming down the hall, looking more pissed than I’d ever seen him.  But, sadly, I couldn’t take him seriously.

He was bald.

I sputtered out a laugh before I could stop it.  I stepped out of my room, holding my door open so my dad could get in.  I so desperately wanted to make a joke about him being bald, but I held it in.  I didn’t need him mad at me. 

“Arabelle!” my dad hissed, stepping into my room.  I leaned back against the wall, biting my lip to contain my laughter.  Arabelle was probably doing the same.

“Aw, nice hairdo, Dad!” Arabelle cooed.  “It looks great on you.”

I covered my mouth with my hand.  Arabelle just cracked me up sometimes.

“This isn’t funny, Arabelle!”

“But, Dad, it really is!”

I pushed off the wall and headed down the hall.  Arabelle would probably want to tell the story of the fight later, and I didn’t want to stand there and listen to it.  I trotted down the stairs, pulling my cell phone out of my pocket and glancing at the screen.  I was surprised to see that I had two new text messages.  Huh.  I didn’t recall putting it on silent.

I opened up the text message.  It was from my friend, Caroline Baker, saying that she was coming over.  I cocked an eyebrow, opening up the next one.  I giggled when I saw it said: Come answer the door!  I’ve been knocking for like five days!

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