No Girls Allowed (Dogs Okay) Read Online Free Page A

jeans. “Yeah, how much?”
    I didn’t plan on selling my sister repellant, especially to a gooberhead like Lewis.
    Doyle elbows me. I can tell by the way his eyebrows are going up and down that he thinks I should do it. I scan the playground for a fluffy pink coat. I don’tsee it. What I
do
see is Lewis holding out several crumpled dollar bills. At first I think it’s play money, but it’s real, all right. Everyone’s looking at me.
    I bite my lip. “Three bucks?”
    Lewis hands me three one-dollar bills. Bug spit! I should have said five.
    Doyle gives him the bottle.
    â€œSpray once,” I warn Lewis. “It’s strong stuff.”
    â€œGot it.”
    â€œDon’t spray it at school. If a teacher catches you with it—”
    â€œRelax, McNally. I can handle teachers.”
    â€œWhat about the rest of us?” asks Will.
    I have to spit-swear with Will, Alec, and Henry that I’ll bring a bottle for each of them tomorrow. By the time I am done swearing, I have no saliva left.
    â€œFour orders.” Doyle whistles. “That’s twelve bucks.”
    It’s more than twelve bucks. It’s one fifth of a new dog. Sweet!
    â€œYou guys coming to play kickball?” calls Will.
    Doyle and I race to the soccer field. I’m going to kick that ball to the moon, that’s how great I feel. We run past Jenna, Libby, and their friends playing foursquare. I don’t see a fluffy pink coat anywhere, which is weird. You know what’s weirder? I didn’t have an orange in my lunch today. Or yesterday. Or the day before that. It’s not like Isabelle to make such a big mistake. My sister never makes mistakes. Trust me.

CHAPTER
5
Whizzing Bats or a Lemon Tea Party?
    S cab?” My mom is knocking on my lab door. “Do you have my blender in there?”
    I look at the plastic pitcher filled with brownish gray goo. “Uh . . . I might.”
    â€œI want it back.”
    She might change her mind if she knew
what
was in her blender. “Okay,” I say.

    â€œDinner’s ready.”
    â€œIn a sec.” I am gluing labels onto bottles of Isabelle’s Smell. It’s been a busy week. After wesold the first batch to Will and the guys, Doyle rounded up a bunch of new orders for my sister-repellant spray. It won’t be long before I have enough money to buy my dog. At last! I have been thinking. I suppose it couldn’t hurt to have Isabelle help me ask our parents for a dog. But how do I get her to do it? If I want chocolate cake, she wants apple pie. If I want to play mini golf, she wants to roller-skate. If I want a dog, she wants a cat. I wish I had a little brother to look up to me instead of a twin sister, who’s always looking down on me.
    ISABELLE’S SMELL
A SISTER-BE-GONE SPRAY BY SCAB MCNALLY
    D IRECTIONS: SPRAY ONCE TO GET RID OF annoying sister (or little brother).
    Warning: Do not spray toward eyes, do not spill on skin, and definitely do not drink!
    â€œScab!” Isabelle is shouting. “Uncle Ant is here.”
    I rocket out of my chair.
    When it comes to inventing, I take after my uncle Ant. He’s a bug exterminator, which is how he got the nickname. Uncle Ant invented a formula to get rid of moles (you know, those tunneling animals that make dirt mounds all over the grass). His special pellets give moles a tummy ache so they go to someone else’s yard.
    â€œScab-o!” My uncle wrestles me to the floor. He sees the cut on my chin. “What’s this? Looks like you’re living up to your name, kiddo.”
    â€œScab tangled with the Pigfords’ Doberman,” says my dad. He is going through the top drawer of the computer desk.

    â€œI wasn’t afraid,” I say, flexing my biceps.
    My sister chuckles. “That’s not what I heard, Monkey Boy.”
    â€œEat termites, Isabelle.”
    â€œYou first.”
    â€œActually,” says Uncle Ant,