Mom slapped down a card, then Rafe did the same. “Ha!” Rafe said, greedily snapping up the pair and kissing it with a gross, wet smack. I thought I saw the jack of clubs get a little green in the face.

Mom laughed. “How was your day, sweetheart?” she asked as I hung my coat on a peg in the hall and walked over to the couch.

“Fine,” I said sweetly. I held up a treasure I’d just found in the pile of mail. “Look, Rafe! It’s from Airbrook Arts! Did you get progress reports already?” I smile at him. “I wonder how you did!”

“Give me that!” Rafe snarled, reaching for the envelope.

I yanked it away. “I bet you can’t wait to open it up and see!”

Mom stood up. “I’ll take that, Georgia,” she said, and I handed it to her.

Rafe glowered at me as Mom tore off the end of the envelope and pulled out the report. Her eyes went wide. “Rafe!” she shouted. “You did great!” Mom wrapped Rafe in a huge hug. “Look at this! An A in art! And all the rest are B’s!”

Rafe looked down at the paper, as if he could hardly believe it himself. “I’m getting a C in math,” he pointed out.

“A C-plus,” Mom corrected. “You’ll pull it up—I know you will! Oh, Rafe!” She squeezed him tight. “I’m so proud of you!” Mom dabbed at her eyes a little bit. Seriously, I hadn’t seen her this happy since the time she found a ten-dollar bill at the playground.

“I’m making pie to celebrate,” Mom announced, and started for the kitchen.

“Apple?” Rafe asked, padding after her.

I watched them go. Well, that backfired big-time. Rafe was actually doing well in school, while I’m working on a D in English.

Welcome to my alternate universe.

Shoo Pie, Don’t Bother Me

I stomped to my bedroom, flopped onto my bed, and recapped everything that had gone wrong in the past few days. Green hair and detention were just two of the highlights. And now… Rafe revenge reversal. Mom is baking him a pie! I still couldn’t believe it.

There was a soft knock at my door. Rafe, I thought. He’s come to gloat. “Go away.”

“What did you say, Carolina?” Grandma Dotty asked as she opened the door. “ ‘Slow decay’?”

“No, I—never mind. Come on in.”

Grandma Dotty sat down at the foot of my bed and rubbed my back for a minute. Mom used to do that when I was little. I forgot how nice it could feel. “What’s wrong, honey?”