Girls Rule! Read online

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  OTHER YEARLING BOOKS BY PHYLLIS REYNOLDS NAYLOR YOU WILL ENJOY

  THE BOYS START THE WAR

  THE GIRLS GET EVEN

  BOYS AGAINST GIRLS

  THE GIRLS’ REVENGE

  A TRAITOR AMONG THE BOYS

  A SPY AMONG THE GIRLS

  THE BOYS RETURN

  THE GIRLS TAKE OVER

  BOYS IN CONTROL

  To Kristin Corcoran

  Contents

  One: The Trouble with Being Nice

  Two: Plans

  Three: Bigger Plans

  Four: Horse Manure

  Five: Onstage

  Six: Two for a Dollar

  Seven: Help! Help!

  Eight: Cleaning the Clock

  Nine: Plane-Wrecked

  Ten: Stunned

  Eleven: The Visit

  Twelve: Alone on an Island

  Thirteen: A Bad Idea

  Fourteen: A Worse Idea

  Fifteen: After Dark

  Sixteen: Turnaround

  Seventeen: Strawberry Shortcake

  Eighteen: Queen for a Day

  Nineteen: Letter to Georgia

  One

  The Trouble with Being Nice

  Caroline Malloy decided to be nice. If she was ever going to get all the things she wanted in this world— all the things she deserved—she would have to start thinking of others first.

  She knew she had been selfish too often since her family had moved to Buckman. Now she was ready to show the people of West Virginia just how sweet she could be. Because—Caroline had found out that there was a strawberry festival in Buckman every June. In every festival there was a parade. In every parade there was a queen—the Strawberry Queen of Buckman.

  Caroline was beautiful, wasn’t she? She was talented and she lived in Buckman. So if she put her mind to it, why shouldn’t she be queen of the Strawberry Festival?

  “Because,” said her sister Eddie, the oldest of the Malloy daughters, “you have to be a woman, not a girl, to be queen.”

  “A collegewoman,” said Beth, the middle sister.

  “And you have to be chosen,you can’t just volunteer,” said Eddie.

  For a while Caroline was down in the dumps, but then she thought about something else. Didn’t queens have ladies-in-waiting? There had to be helpers, didn’t there? And wouldn’t they ride on the float along with the queen? How did they get to be helpers unless they were chosen? Thatwas when Caroline Malloy, precocious fourth grader, decided to be so nice that people would hardly recognize her, beginning at home.

  “Do you want me to set the table, Mother?” Caroline asked that evening before dinner.

  Mrs. Malloy turned and stared at Caroline. “Why, I would be delighted!” she said.

  During mealtime, Caroline started to take the last of the scalloped potatoes, then said, “Dad, would you like to have the rest?”

  “I sure would!” said Mr. Malloy. “Thank you, Caroline!"

  Upstairs later, when Eddie and Beth were studying for final exams, Caroline stopped in Beth’s doorway and whispered, “I was going to play my new CD, Beth, but I won’t if you think it might bother you.”

  Then she moved across the hall to Eddie’s room and said, “If you need any pencils sharpened, just let me know.”

  “Knock it off, Caroline,” said Eddie. “You’re as fake as a wooden nickel.”

  “Well, I can practice, can’t I?” Caroline replied. “If you haven’t been nice for a long time, the only way to get nicer is to practice.”

  “Then practice on somebody else,” Eddie said. “Go practice on the Hatfords, if you have to.”

  Caroline had been afraid someone would suggest that. She could do it, though. She would do it! There were only two more weeks of school before summer vacation began, and after that she wouldn’t have to even look at the four Hatford boys unless she wanted to.

  Caroline went to her room and sat on the edge of her bed. She looked out over the Buckman River, which came into town on the side of Island Avenue where the Malloys lived, ran under the road bridge that led to the business district, and flowed back out of town on the other side of Island Avenue.

  It would be hard to leave West Virginia if their father moved them back to Ohio in the fall. Mr. Malloy was coach of the Buckman College football team for one year on a teacher-exchange program, and he still hadn’t made up his mind whether he would stay or go back to Ohio. This was a bit unsettling to them all because no one knew where they would be come September. How could you get excited over moving on to a higher grade when you didn’t even know what state your school would be in?

  Caroline knew what the Hatford boys would like, however. They would like the Malloy girls to go home. They would have liked the Malloy sisters to go back to Ohio the week after they’d come to Buckman. They would have preferred that the Malloys had never come to West Virginia in the first place.

  Why? Because the Malloys were renting the house where the Bensons used to live, and the five Benson brothers had been the Hatford boys’ best friends. Jake and Josh and Wally—and sometimes even Peter Hatford—simply could not stand that three attractive, intelligent, talented girls (Caroline in particular) had taken the place of their best friends, Caroline decided, and they wanted the Bensons back.

  Wally Hatford was the worst because Caroline had been moved up to his grade even though she was a year younger than he was. Could she help it if she was smart? Could she help it if she was precocious? Get over it! she would have liked to say to Wally, but she knew she was going to have to be nice. She was going to have to be so kind, in fact, that if her name came up on a list of possible helpers for the Strawberry Festival Parade, all pencils would automatically make a check mark in the box beside her name.

  On the way to school the following morning, the Hatford boys were waiting for the girls, as usual, on the other end of the swinging footbridge that spanned the Buckman River.

  Despite all their quarrels and tricks, the boys had been doing this ever since a cougar had been seen lurking about Buckman and the two sets of parents had insisted that the kids all walk together as a group. Even though the danger was past—the cougar had been caught and transported to the Smoky Mountain area—walking to school together had become a habit. Much as the Hatfords and Malloys hated to admit it, they probably didn’t dislike each other as much as they thought. There were times, in fact, when the boys seemed to wish the Malloys would stay in Buckman.

  “Good morn-ing, Wally!” Caroline said pleasantly as she stepped off the footbridge.

  “No,” said Wally, his eyes straight ahead as he started toward school.

  “No, what?”

  “No to whatever you want me to do,” Wally told her. He had a round face and a square shape, same as his little brother, Peter, who was in second grade, while the older twins, Jake and Josh, were taller and as lean as string beans.

  “I’m not going to ask you to do anything,” Caroline said. “I just wanted to show you that beginning today, I’m going to be about the nicest person you’ve ever met.”

  “What took you so long?” asked Wally.

  “I’ve just decided to be a better person,” Caroline explained.

  “Better than who? You’ve always liked to be better than every
one else, Caroline,” Wally told her.

  Caroline decided she would not waste her time with people who did not understand what a wonderful person she could be. She moved up and fell into step beside Peter, who was following Eddie and Beth and Jake and Josh. Peter was walking with his arms straight out in front of him and his eyes closed.

  “What are you doing?” asked Caroline.

  “Pretending I’m blind,” said Peter, opening his eyes. “I want to find out if I could get to school by myself if I couldn’t see.”

  “If you ever went blind, I would walk you to school and back every day,” said Caroline sweetly.

  “But that wouldn’t count, because I want to do everything myself,” said Peter. “I don’t need any help.”

  How did nice people stay that way if nobody wanted them around? Caroline wondered. It used to be that she could count on Peter, at least, to be friendly.

  “You’re not mad at me, are you?” she asked.

  “No, I’m just getting ready for not caring if you move back to Ohio,” said Peter.

  That’s so sweet! Caroline thought. “Peter, I’m not sure I want to move back to Ohio either, but we can at least be friends, can’t we?” she said.

  “I guess so,” said Peter.

  “I’ll even bake you some friendship cookies if you want,” Caroline promised. Now if that wasn’t nice, what was?

  “With chocolate chips and raisins and M&M’s?” asked Peter.

  “Anything you want,” said Caroline. “All you have to do for me is put a little mark in the box beside my name.”

  “What box?” asked Peter.

  “Well, if a list goes around town with people’s names on it, people who might be chosen to be in the Strawberry Festival Parade, then I hope you’ll think of the friendship cookies I’m going to bake for you and put a check mark beside my name.”

  “Okay,” said Peter, closing his eyes and putting his arms out in front of him again.

  “Curb, Peter!” Wally yelled behind them, just in time to stop Peter from stepping down into the street. “A lot of help you are,” he muttered to Caroline as he moved beside her and guided his brother across the street.

  Caroline felt discouraged. Wally wouldn’t vote for her, that was for sure. So it was one vote yes, one vote no. She wasn’t getting very far by being nice.

  Two

  Plans

  Only two more weeks of school, Wally Hatford was thinking as he slid into his seat. Then he would not have to sit in front of Caroline ever again. She couldn’t make Xs on his back any longer with her pencil eraser, or tap out a rhythm on his shoulder blades with her ruler. She couldn’t whisper stupid stuff either, and try to make his neck and ears turn red.

  Next year, if the Malloys stayed in Buckman and he was in the same class as Caroline, he would find a way to sit as far away from her as possible. If she was sitting in the front of the room, he would tell the teacher he was farsighted and had to sit in the last row. If Caroline was assigned to the back row, he would tell the teacher he was nearsighted and had to sit up front. Two more weeks, or ten more days, and he was a free man!

  “Well, class,” Miss Applebaum said from her desk, where a big bouquet of zinnias brightened the room, “I have news.” She was wearing a yellow shirt, and green jangling earrings shaped like ears of corn. She always changed her earrings according to the season. “You all know that Buckman will hold its Strawberry Festival in three weeks and, of course, that there will be a parade.”

  “Yay!” the class said in unison.

  “Strawberry pancakes!” said one of the girls.

  “Strawberry shortcake,” said a boy.

  “Strawberry ice cream!"

  “Strawberry milk shakes!"

  “Strawberry sundaes!"

  “But here’s something you may not know,” said Miss Applebaum. “The Buckman Community Hospital wants to build a whole new wing just for treating children. They’ll have to raise a lot of money, and last week at the town council meeting, the mayor said it was a good idea to get children involved.”

  Wally knew that raising money wasn’t quite the same as raising corn or lima beans, and certainly nothing like raising a puppy. Oh, no! he thought. They’re not going to get their hands on my piggy bank!

  “There isn’t much time, we realize that,” the teacher continued, “but we know you like parades and we know you like strawberries. So the First National Bank of Buckman has decided that all students who can earn or collect twenty dollars or more will have their choice of either all the strawberry treats they can eat or a place in the parade. Each of you can decide which you want.”

  “Parade!” someone said.

  “Strawberry shortcake!” said another. “With whipped cream on top.”

  Wally couldn’t make up his mind. He liked the idea of going from booth to booth for all the strawberry treats he could eat. Strawberry waffles with strawberry syrup, even. But he also liked the thought of riding on a float with a big brass band following along behind.

  “And everyone who earns any money at all for the hospital fund will get a piece of strawberry shortcake,” said Miss Applebaum.

  “How are we supposed to earn the money?” someone asked.

  “That’s up to you, but you’ll have to work fast,” the teacher said. “The bank will provide the containers and you may want to go from house to house collecting money. Or maybe you can think of something you could do for your neighbors.”

  Wally knew that in every classroom in Buckman Elementary, every student was hearing the same thing from his teacher. Seven-year-old Peter down in second grade was probably hearing it right now, and so were his twin brothers, Josh and Jake, in sixth grade. So were the two older Malloy girls, Beth and Eddie. This meant that all three hundred and forty-two students could be out combing their neighborhoods at the same time, trying to collect twenty dollars for the hospital building fund.

  “I know what I’m going to choose” came a whisper over Wally’s left shoulder.

  He knew he was supposed to turn around and ask, “What?” And when he didn’t, the voice went on, “I’m going to ask to be on the float with the Strawberry Queen.”

  “Fat chance,” Wally whispered back, turning his head to the side. If Caroline got to ride on the float with the Strawberry Queen, he was going to fly to the moon.

  “I might even be the Strawberry Queen!” Caroline continued, her voice dreamy. “If I get to be Strawberry Queen, do you want to be Strawberry King and wave to the crowd beside me?”

  Wally turned all the way around in his seat. “You aren’t going to be the Strawberry Queen. You’re not even going to be one of her servants, I’ll bet!” He stopped suddenly because he was talking too loudly, and everyone was looking at him.

  “Wally,” said Miss Applebaum. “Maybe you and Caroline would like to continue your conversation at recess.”

  Wally faced forward again, the blood rising to his face as the other boys grinned. No, he did not want to discuss anything with Caroline at recess. He did not want to discuss anything with her ever again if he could help it. When the class spilled out onto the playground later, Wally and his friends started a game of kickball, and he was glad to forget Caroline for a while.

  After school, he walked ahead of his brothers so that he was the first one to reach home. It was always a relief when the Malloy girls said goodbye at the footbridge and went on across the river to their house on Island Avenue. Then Wally could go inside his own house and close the door.

  The phone rang as soon as the boys entered the kitchen. It was as though there were a surveillance camera above the stove and their mother, who worked in a hardware store, knew the minute they got home from school.

  “Hello, Mom,” Wally said, lifting the phone. He didn’t even have to ask.

  “Everything all right?” Mrs. Hatford said.

  “Peter’s been poisoned, Jake and Josh broke their legs, and Caroline gouged out my eyes with her ruler,” Wally answered.

  Mrs. H
atford ignored him completely. “There’s some leftover pizza in the fridge you can have, along with the orange juice, but I don’t want you boys eating anything else until supper,” she said.

  What would she say, Wally wondered, if Peter really had been poisoned? How would he ever make her understand it was for real?

  “The kids at school are supposed to help raise money for the new children’s wing at the hospital,” Wally told her.

  “I know. I heard someone talking about it at the store today,” said his mother. “Have you thought of something you can do to earn money?”

  Wally was watching his seven-year-old brother worm one finger up his nostril. He would dig around for a minute, wipe his finger on his pants, and dig some more. “I was thinking of selling Peter, but I doubt anyone would pay twenty dollars for him,” he said.

  “Go eat your pizza, Wally,” his mother said. “And don’t turn on the TV till you’ve done your homework.”

  Wally hung up and sat at the table waiting for the microwave to ding. He watched Josh pouring himself a glass of orange juice.

  “Did you get the talk about raising money for the hospital?” he asked his brothers.

  “Yeah,” said Jake.

  “You going to do it?”

  “Sure. I’ve always wanted to ride on one of the floats,” Jake answered.

  “Me too,” said Josh.

  “I’d rather eat strawberries!” said Peter. “All the strawberry ice cream I can eat!” He rubbed his stomach in anticipation.

  Jake looked around at his brothers. “Whatever we do to earn money, though, don’t tell the Malloys. They’ll just steal our ideas. Or else they’ll think of some stupid way to make money and try to get us to go along with it.”

  “Yeah!” said Wally. “Caroline would probably write a play and want us to be in it.”

  “They’d charge everyone a dollar just to come and watch us act like idiots,” said Josh.

  “Eddie would be the worst, though,” said Jake. “I’ll bet she’d put on a baseball exhibition and charge people to come and watch her throw. Want us to stand out there and pitch balls to her just so everyone could see how hard she can hit.”