Hailey Twitch Is Not a Snitch Read Online Free Page B

having a good cry. I’ve had a good cry lots of times, like when Natalie Brice is mean to me, or when I get punished.” I get up from the floor and sit down on the bed. Then I pat the spot next to me for Maybelle to sit. “Now you sit right here and tell me why you’re crying. Is it because you feel bad you smushed that list up and I didn’t even get to be partners with Antonio after all?”
    “No,” Maybelle says. Her face is all splotchy.
    “Is it because you made me use Grandma Jokobeck’s teeth glue even though you knew I wasn’t supposed to and you got me in trouble with everyone and now I am a bad influence?”
    “No,” Maybelle says.
    “Is it because you feel bad that a nice girl like me has to be partners with Addie Jokobeck, and not Antonio Fuerte or Russ Robertson?”
    “No,” Maybelle says.
    “Is it because tomorrow—”
    “Hailey!” Maybelle says. She holds up one hand so that I will stop talking. “It does not have anything to do with you.”
    “Oh.” I do not know what to say. What else could it be if it doesn’t have to do with me? I think very hard. But I am stumped. “Then what is it?” I finally ask.
    Maybelle comes up on the bed. She sits down right next to me and crosses one tiny leg over the other. “I’m just upset,” she says. “Because I am not very good at being fun. And…and…I am never, ever, ever going to get good at it, and Mr. Tuttle is not going to be happy, and I will never get my magic back! Sprites. Are. Supposed. To. Be. Fun!” She seems like maybe she is going to cry again. Or maybe have a big tantrum.
    “It’s okay,” I say. I pat her on the shoulder. “You’ll learn. Practice makes perfect.” Then I decide to tell her this one story I know. “When my sister Kaitlyn started playing the flute, she had to practice, practice, practice.” Then I tell her the part that will cheer her up. “And that is because she was the worst flute player in her whole entire school.”
    “And now Kaitlyn is the best flute player in her whole school?” Maybelle asks. Her eyes look very excited.
    “Um,” I say. Kaitlyn is only allowed to play her flute in the basement so that the family cannot hear what horrible sounds she makes with that thing. But I do not want Maybelle to know that. “Well, she is still practicing to make perfect.” I give Maybelle another good, hard pat.
    “I don’t know what to do!” Maybelle says. She is on her way to getting very worked up.
    “Well,” I say. “You might want to start with those clothes you are wearing.” I look at her old green dress. “You do not have any fun colors.” I point to my shirt. It has glitter butterflies all over it. I do a little dance. “Do you see,” I ask, “how these purple butterflies sparkle all over when I dance?”
    “Yes,” she says.

    “That is because this shirt is very fun. When I saw it in the store, I said, ‘Now that is a fun shirt. I want it right now!’”
    “You did?”
    “Yes,” I say, “and then my mom made me ask politely. So I said, ‘Mom, may I please have that fun shirt?’ and she said okay. Also maybe for Christmas I might get sneakers with wheels on the back so that it will seem like I am roller-skating when I am really just walking.” I sit back and wait for Maybelle to be jealous.
    But all she does is look confused. “I don’t know,” she says. “Roller skates for shoes?” She looks down at her feet
    “Come on,” I say. “I will show you something that will make that dumb Mr. Tuttle very excited.”
    And then I creep, creep, creep out of my room and tip, tip, tiptoe down the hallway. Maybelle and I tiptoe our way right into Kaitlyn’s room. And right into her closet. That is where she keeps her big box of things that she thinks are too babyish but still will not let me play with. There is a doll in there. One that is just about Maybelle’s size. One that is wearing a beautiful, pink shiny dress with a glittery sparkly skirt that flows out all