Chapter 10

Chapter 10 Malicious Mischief malicious mischief (malicious mischief) n. The act of purposely destroying the property of someone else's business. Jessie was all in knots. Evan was madder than ever at her, and she couldn't figure out why. He had said, "Do you want to call off the war?" and she had said, "Sure, let's call off the war." Or something like that. That's what she'd meant to say. That's what she'd wanted to say. But what had she really said? She'd mentioned Megan. Oh! She'd almost spilled the beans about Megan giving her the $104. But she hadn't! She'd kept her mouth shut, just in time. Jessie smiled, remembering that. So why had Evan acted like that? What was the

matter with him? Jessie lay down on her bed. The world was a confusing place, and she needed Evan to help her figure it out. If this is what fourth grade was going to be like, she might as well just give up now. And there was something else that was tying her up in knots. That two hundred and eight dollars—it wasn't really hers. Megan had given it to her to make a donation. She hadn't given it to Jessie the way Evan's friends had given their money to him. (That still made her so mad when she thought about it. Oh, she wanted to get even with him for saying she didn't have friends!) So even though it looked like she had two hundred and eight dollars in her lock box, only half of that was money she could honestly call her own. Still... if push came to shove and she needed it all to win— Sure, she'd use it all! This was a war! But if she pretended that all the money was hers—

Hey, what if Evan has even more than that? So if she lost, even with Megan's money— Gulp! Jessie hadn't thought of that. If she lost, even with two hundred and eight dollars. If she lost. Oh my gosh. Winner takes all. She would lose all of Megan's money to Evan. How could Jessie explain that to her friend? You see, I took all the money you earned to help rescue animals and I lost it to my brother, who's going to buy an iPod. Megan would hate her. All the girls who were friends with Megan would hate her. And Evan already hated her. So that was that. Goodbye, fourth grade. She couldn't use Megan's money to try to win the bet. It was too risky. But did she have enough to win on her own? Jessie felt desperation rise in her throat. How much money did Evan have? She had to find out. Jessie tiptoed upstairs to the attic office. She listened at the closed door. Her mother was on the phone. Then Jessie snuck downstairs. Evan was

watching TV in the family room. Like a whisper, she crept back upstairs. And into Evan's room. There was a strict rule in the Treski house: No one was allowed in anyone else's room without an express invitation. That was the term. It meant that Jessie had to say, "Evan, can I come into your room?" and Evan had to say, "Yes," before she put even one toe over the line. So even though Evan's door was wide open, just crossing the threshold was a direct violation that carried a fine of one dollar. But that was the least of Jessie's concerns. She snuck over to Evan's bookshelf and picked up a carved cedar box—Evan's chosen souvenir from the family summer vacation. The orange-red wood of the box had a scene etched into the top: a sailboat sailing past a lighthouse while gulls flew overhead. The words "Bar Harbor, Maine" were painted in the sky. The box had brass hinges and a clever latch. What it didn't have was a lock. Jessie flipped open the lid, immediately smelling

the spicy, sharp scent of the wood. She couldn't believe her eyes. Her hands started pawing through the bills. Dozens of them. There was a ten and a bunch of fives and more ones than she could count. She sat on Evan's bed and quickly sorted out the money. Evan had one hundred and three dollars and eleven cents. Eighty-nine cents less than she had. Eighty-nine cents. He could sell one lousy cup of lemonade tomorrow and beat her. And there was nothing she could do about it because she'd be at the beach. I can't let him win, she thought. I can't. She had gotten to the point where she couldn't even remember what had started the whole war. She couldn't remember why it had been so important to win in the first place. Now she just had to win. She messed up the money and stuffed it back into the box. That night in bed, she lay awake trying to think

of some way to stop Evan from selling even a single glass. Sometimes in the dark, dark thoughts come. Jessie had a very dark thought. The next morning was Sunday, and the rule in the Treski house was that everyone could sleep in as late as he or she wanted. But Jessie awoke to the sound of the electric garage door opening. She sat up in bed and checked the clock: 8:00 a.m. Then she looked out her window just in time to see Evan pedaling away on his bike, his backpack on his back. She quickly dressed and hurried down to the kitchen. Her mom was making scrambled eggs and toast. "Hi, Jess. Want some?" she asked, pointing with her spatula at the pan of sizzling eggs. "No, thanks," said Jessie. "I washed your blue bathing suit last night. It's hanging in the basement. What time are the Moriartys picking you up?"