Small Steps - Louis Sachar [33]
Kaira opened the tiny refrigerator, and the even tinier freezer compartment, which was just big enough to hold a quart of ice cream. “It’s chocolate chip,” she told Armpit. “Is that okay?”
“Sure, fine,” Armpit said, wishing he had never asked about the flavor.
“I can ask David to get you something else.”
“Chocolate chip is my favorite ice cream!” he said, trying to put an end to the subject but instead sounding like a little kid.
Kaira scooped the ice cream into two plastic bowls and gave them each one. “Well, sit down.”
“You should get the couch,” said Armpit. “You’re the star.”
“Shut up,” said Kaira.
Ginny laughed. “She told you to shut up.”
“I know. I heard her.”
Armpit sat on the couch next to Ginny. Kaira sat on the floor and ate her ice cream right out of the carton.
“I always get so hungry after a show,” she said. “Before the show I’m too nervous to eat.”
“You didn’t seem nervous,” said Armpit. “You seemed really cool.”
Kaira laughed. “Cool? Look at me. I’m drenched in sweat. It’s gross!”
If Armpit knew her better he might have said, You think you’re sweaty. Man, you don’t know what sweat is! But he didn’t dare say that to Kaira DeLeon.
“Why was that man y-yelling at you?” Ginny asked.
“Him? That’s El—my manager,” Kaira said. “He’s all pissed off ’cause of the last song. Oh, sorry, Ginny.”
“It’s okay,” said Ginny. “I h-hear b-bad words at school.”
“I thought that last song was great!” Armpit said.
“Well, I don’t know about that,” said Kaira.
“Is it a new one?” Armpit asked her.
“You never heard it before?”
“No.”
“Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of Janis Joplin?”
He hadn’t, but he didn’t dare admit it now. “Maybe I have,” he said.
“If you’d heard her, you’d know. She’s like my all-time favorite singer. You know, she was born right here in Texas.”
“Have you met her?” asked Ginny.
“We’re all going to meet Janis someday,” said Kaira. “But it won’t be in Texas.” She turned back to Armpit. “Have you heard of the Beatles?”
“Shut up,” he said.
Ginny gasped, but Kaira only laughed.
“So what grade are you in, Ginny?” Kaira asked.
“F-fourth. I was in fourth. I’m g-going into f-fifth.”
“Fifth grade’s great,” said Kaira. “What about you? Are you still in school?”
“I’ll sort of be a senior in high school.”
“Oh, yeah? What sort of senior will you be?”
“He missed a year,” Ginny explained. “He w-was at Camp Green Lake.”
“She doesn’t need to know about that,” said Armpit.
“What’s Camp Green Lake?”
“It’s nothing,” said Armpit.
“A juvenile correctional facility,” Ginny said, carefully pronouncing each word.
“You mean like a jail?” asked Kaira.
“It’s a long story,” Armpit said. “Four years ago I got in a fight and things got out of hand, and so I was sent to a kind of work camp for a year. And now I’m having to take summer school to try to catch up.”
He wondered if Kaira now regretted shutting the door on her bodyguard.
“Can I tell her your nickname?” asked Ginny.
“No.”
Kaira smiled. “What’s his nickname?”
“Don’t tell her, Ginny.”
“Ginny?” coaxed Kaira.
“You better not,” Armpit warned her.
“Come here, Ginny,” said Kaira. “I want to tell you a secret.”
Ginny slid off the couch, and Kaira whispered something in her ear. Then Ginny whispered something into Kaira’s ear. They both looked at Armpit. Then Kaira whispered something to Ginny, and Ginny whispered something to Kaira.
Armpit didn’t like it one bit. And he didn’t like the way Kaira and Ginny smiled conspiratorially at each other either, when Ginny returned to the couch.
“You told her, didn’t you?”
Ginny shook her head,
“She didn’t tell me,” Kaira said. She winked at Ginny. Ginny shut, then opened both eyes.
There was a knock at the door.
“Go away!” Kaira shouted.
The door opened anyway and a bald-headed black man entered. Armpit recognized the drummer.
“Oh, I didn’t know it was you,” Kaira said apologetically. “These are my friends, Ginny and Theodore. This