The Latte Rebellion Read Online Free

Latte Rebellion T-shirt, his huge stomach stretching out the front, and snorted.
    “It isn’t funny ,” Carey complained. “This is a serious problem.” She looked down at our scratch paper, doodling an angry face with a thought balloon full of calculations.
    “I know; I’m sorry. I was just …” What if she decided not to do this? I didn’t want to do it alone. And taking our vacation alone would not only be pointless, it would be downright sad. “Well … okay. Let’s make a list. An addendum to the Master Plan. Remember anything from our Econ class last year?”
    “No,” Carey said. “Are you kidding? Hands down, my least favorite class ever.”
    There was a long pause. Then the irony hit and we both started laughing hysterically, me almost giving myself a coffee noser and Carey getting hiccups.
    I heard my dad in the next room mumble something cranky-sounding, and a few seconds later, my mom poked her head around the door jamb from the living room. “Everyone okay here?”
    I was still coughing and laughing and she broke into a smile herself, the corners of her dark eyes crinkling as she watched us try to get ahold of ourselves.
    “Your father said, ‘It doesn’t sound like they’re studying in there,’ ” she said, artificially lowering her voice to imitate his Stern Dad tone.
    “We’re taking a study break,” Carey said, grinning at me.
    “We’re fine,” I managed to rasp, which started us laughing all over again.
    “I’ll take your word for it, but keep it down, okay? Dad’s working on that new account with the office chair supplier. You know how he gets.” My mom rolled her eyes and left us to our temporary insanity.
    I was relieved she hadn’t done more than peek in. It would have been way too hard to explain everything. And if my dad had decided to butt in and give us the third degree—well, then you can guarantee we wouldn’t have been cruising anywhere. Our hard-earned T-shirt money would disappear without a trace into the Bank of Ashmont, never to be seen again. At least, not until we had to buy college textbooks.
    By the time we recovered from our momentary lapse of reason, we were both feeling more optimistic. This was so much better than any of our schemes of the past. It blew the Toilet Paper Revenge Caper out of the water. It even beat our Take the Fight Out of the Highlander campaign. This was going to be the highlight of our senior year, and we’d have even more fun enjoying the “fruits of our labor,” as my father would put it. Only for him, the fruit of my labor ought to have the words “Harvard,” “Yale,” or “Stanford” in it. Needless to say, there would be no parents on the trip.
    I pulled a blank sheet of paper in front of me and started making another list.
    Latte Rebellion Marketing Plan
    1. Flyers in lockers of Rebellion Sympathizers: known, suspected, or potential.
    2. Posters at school, in cafes, and everywhere we go.
    3. Ask Bridget to put up posters at U-NorCal.
    4. Send emails to everyone we know.
    5. Talk up the Rebellion. Whisper about it at school. Spread gossip about the Rebellion’s fabulous line of must-have clothing.
    I made a quick handwritten copy of the list for Carey.
    “I’ll make a bunch more flyers and bring them to school on Monday,” I said. “We should come up with an exhaustive list of everyone who might want a shirt. We can use last year’s yearbook.”
    “And we should bring some flyers for Miranda so she can hand them out to the Art Club.” Carey sounded a lot less stressed now, and I silently breathed a sigh of relief. I wouldn’t be able to do this without her.
    One thing was for sure: even with her, this project was going to be a lot more involved than we’d thought. But, as I reminded myself again and again, it was all about the results. Sure, the idea was pure unadulterated genius, but the best part would be when we were in an airplane together, or on a cruise ship, with one entire week of hard-earned freedom