At least my classes are going good.
I’ve always done well at school. Back at my old school, I always got all Es. That’s basically the same as an A, but that’s the weird grading system they used at my school so people wouldn’t feel bad about not getting an A. E stands for Exceeds Expectations, and it’s the best grade you can get. I got an E in everything except for gym. In gym, I got an
M. (Meets Expectations.)
Mrs. Ratner gives a lot more homework than Ms. Marcus used to, but I don’t mind doing homework. I want to be a pediatrician when I grow up, so I have a lot more school left to go. Good thing I like homework.
In the middle of doing my math assignment, I get thirsty and go downstairs for a glass of water. Except the weird thing is, while I am climbing down the stairs, I see Nico disappearing into the wall.
You heard me right.
I didn’t know this, but apparently, our wall has a secret door on it. Nico has it open, and he looks like he’s about to go inside. Before he can close the door, I call out, “Hey!”
His face jerks up and he sees me. He doesn’t look happy about it. “Oh. It’s you.”
I hurry down the rest of the stairs to get a closer look. “What is
that?”
The door is partially open, so I can see inside. It’s this tiny room, about the size of one of our bathrooms or maybe a little bigger. There
isn’t much inside—just some comic books. It’s also dark. There’s only one light bulb hanging from the ceiling.
“You can’t tell anyone, Ada,” Nico says. “This is my secret clubhouse.”
Secret clubhouse? Really? “This doesn’t seem safe.” “Ugh!” he cries. “You’re acting just like Mom!”
He means it as an insult, but maybe it isn’t such a bad insult to be compared to the one totally normal and rational person in this family. But I also hate that he is upset at me.
“Can I come inside?” I ask.
He makes a face. “It’s my clubhouse, Ada. No girls allowed.”
I know for a fact I’m his only friend around here because I always see him alone at the playground at school lately, so if he doesn’t want to hang out with girls, he will have nobody to hang out with. He isn’t allowed to play with Spencer anymore, even though our parents don’t know about that.
“Please?”
Finally, he nods. I follow him inside the small square room, and he shuts the door behind us. It makes this terrible scraping noise when the door closes, and I have to cover my ears.
Once we are inside, the room feels really small. I could tell it was small from the outside, but when you’re inside, it feels even worse. It’s like being in a coffin. Or being buried alive. One of those two things.
Also, it’s dirty. The floor has a layer of dirt on it so you can see his footprints from all the times he came in and out. It has cobwebs in the corners, which means there are spiders. People say spiders are the good kind of bugs, but I don’t like anything creepy-crawly. But Nico likes bugs, so it doesn’t bother him as much.
I can’t help but think about that little boy, Braden Lundie. The one who disappeared. I imagine him finding himself locked in a little room like this with nothing but a small pile of comic books.
“You really like playing in here?” I ask. “It’s so small ”
“Yes, I like it,” Nico says stubbornly. “If you hate it, you can leave.”
I do hate it. And I want to leave. But I haven’t had a conversation with my brother in a long time, and I don’t want him to think I’m some scaredy-cat that he can’t play with.
“No,” I say. “I want to stay.”
I look at the door, hoping that it opens again when we want it to. What if it doesn’t? How will we get out? Will Mom and Dad figure out that we’re in here? My neck suddenly feels cold and sweaty, but I sit down next to Nico on the floor anyway. We won’t get stuck in here. Dad will find a way to get us out, no matter what.
“Remember you said you wanted to have a sleepover?” I say to Nico. “Uh-huh ”
“Maybe we could do that this weekend?” He shakes his head. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t feel like it.”
My eyes feel watery all of a sudden. I don’t understand what happened. Why is Nico being so mean to me? The worst part is Nico notices and scrunches up his face.
“You’re always crying,” he complains. “Is there anything that doesn’t
make you cry?”
I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand. “I’m sorry.” “If you’re going to cry, then you have to leave.”
I try to stop crying, but it’s not that easy. I wish I could just say to myself, Ada, stop crying, and then it would stop. But Nico gives me some comic books, and then I feel a little better. I try to just read the comic books and not think about anything else. Even though I have a lot of homework to do.
And then Dad finds us hiding here, and he and Mom are all angry at us, so we can’t go in the clubhouse anymore anyway. I’m glad, because I don’t like this clubhouse at all.
