A Snitch in the Snob Squad Read Online Free Page A

promised
     to tell you the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, you’ll just have to trust me. I actually controlled myself
.
    I paused, flicking my Bic in and out. Then I wrote,
    Mrs. Jonas got robbed and Max got busted. Max didn’t do it—not this time. I know who did, though. When I called Max after
     school to find out what happened with Mr. Krupps and tell her what I heard, she informed me she got a real suspension. Three whole days.
    I asked her how Krupps could suspend her without proof and she didn’t answer. Then her brother needed to use the phone so
     she had to hang up.
    I paused. The question lingered. How could he suspend her without proof? Unless… no, forget it. Max didn’t do it.
    Anyway, I don’t know why I’m telling you this. What do you care? Unless I eat my words.
    “Jenny, shake your booty,” Dad hollered down the hall. “We’re going to be late.”
    I closed my food diary and bounded over to the dresser to check for Oreo traces in my teeth. As I trundled to the living room
     where the family unit was waiting, I asked casually, “Late for what?” Then I remembered: Mom had said not to make plans for
     tonight. “Where are we going?”
    Dad smiled slyly. “It’s a surprise.” Dad wiggled his eyebrows.
    Vanessa rolled her eyes at me. I reciprocated. I hate surprises.
    Mom had changed from her work clothes into jeans and a sweatshirt. At least I was dressed for the occasion in my baggy overalls.
     Whatever the family togetherness activity was, I hoped it wouldn’t take long. I didn’t want to miss a call from Kevin.
    It was just starting to sprinkle as Dad backed our old Subaru station wagon out of the garage. No one spoke the whole time,
     which wasn’t unusual. I don’t know about Van, but I was trying to figure out where we were headed. It didn’t help that the
     rain was turning into a monsoon and blurring all the street signs. After about twenty minutes, Dad slowed the car and said,
     “Surprise! This is it.”
    “This is what?” I leaned over the seat and squinted ahead. Through the downpour, a neon sign flashed: BO L VA D OW ING.
    “No.” Vanessa slithered down her seat belt. “I won’t go. You can’t make me.”
    Believe it or not, my sister is fifteen.
    “Go where?” I said.
    Mom twisted around and answered, “Bowling.”
    I just about lost my cookies. “You’re not serious.”
    “Serious as sauerkraut,” Dad said.
    Gag. I said what I was thinking: “No one goes bowling anymore,” adding to myself, Especially with their parents.
    “You wanted to do more things together, so from now on Friday night is family night.” Dad yanked up the parking brake.
    Mom said, “We’ll have to make a run for it. Ready? Go!” She opened her door and shot out.
    Stomping through puddles with only our arms to cover our heads, Vanessa pulled up beside me and snarled, “This is all your
     fault.”
    I opened my mouth to argue, then I wondered if she was right. I mean, I wanted our family to be more of a family. I was in
     favor of making dinnertime our family time. But it wasn’t my idea to spend every waking moment together, which seemed to be
     Mom and Dad’s interpretation. We were starting to drive each other nuts. And I’m not talking lightly salted.
    Standing, dripping, in the entryway, Mom hollered over the bowling alley racket, “Robert, why don’t you go get us a lane and
     I’ll buy something to eat.” To us she said, “You two look for balls and shoes.”
    “If anyone I know sees me here, I’ll die,” Vanessa muttered as she skulked down the alley. “This is like the ultimate humiliation.
     It is so Neanderthal.”
    My sister is overly dramatic. Unlike me. “Oh, my God!” I screeched to a stop. “You can’t be serious. These shoes are used.”
    “Duh.” Vanessa curled a lip at me. “You act like you’ve never been bowling before.”
    “I haven’t.”
    “Yes, you have. We went once when you were like four years old.”
    “Give me