“I’m so sorry,” Mrs. Becker says mournfully. “Maybe we can fix it. Let me find more paper towels.”

“I can’t believe it,” says Penny. She turns to me. “Abby, did you see what happened?”

My cheeks heat up. “I … um … It’s my fault. It was an accident. I knocked over your water. I’m sorry.”

“By accident?” Penny asks skeptically.

“Of course by accident,” I lie. “Why would I pour water on your painting on purpose?”

She looks at me with suspicion.

So do Robin and Frankie.

It wasn’t my fault! Okay, it was my fault, but not really, because Penny drove me to it with her twinsies and her perfect painting and her hogging my friend!

I feel sick.

What kind of person ruins someone else’s art project?

A horrible person.

Am I a horrible person?

I swallow the huge lump in my throat.

My verdict: Guilty as charged.

Chapter Three: Attack of the Roses

A giant rose is hitting me over the head.

“You’re a monster!” the rose is yelling, its petals twisting into lips. “A green-eyed monster!”

“Abby! You’re screaming!” another rose yells in my ear.

“No, I’m not!” I scream back.

But now I realize I’m actually sitting up in my bed. Jonah is standing next to me. It’s the middle of the night.

“What happened?” I ask.

“You were screaming in your sleep,” my brother says.

My heart races. “I was?”

“Yeah. A lot. I could hear you through the wall. Something about a green-eyed monster.”

Prince jumps onto my bed and nuzzles my stomach.

I was having a nightmare. Penny’s roses were attacking me.

My cheeks flush. They were calling me a green-eyed monster. That’s an expression my nana uses. Green-eyed monster means jealousy. The rose was right. I guess I deserve my nightmare after what I did to Penny’s painting.

I am a monster. A jealous, green-eyed monster.

“Are we going?” Jonah asks me.

“Where?” I ask with a heavy heart.

“Downstairs,” he says. “It’s eleven fifty-eight.”

I sit up straight. “I thought you were done with the mirror?”

He shrugs. “I’m awake anyway. If it doesn’t work, can we play flying crocodile?”

“Now?” Flying crocodile is a game my brother made up. It’s about crocodiles that fly.

“Yeah. I didn’t get to play anything today. Mom and Dad made me practice my reading all night.” He sounds grumpy.

Jonah’s teacher recently told my parents that he’s a bit behind the rest of his class with his reading, so they’re trying to help him. He’d rather they help him with something else instead. Like playing flying crocodile.