I am the Goddess of Words...

Hi again!!

Um...I was having fun using big words in an overly dramatic essay for school?...


The goddess laughed harshly, favoring the bold girl with a gander. I smile. That captures it nicely! Now I just need to make sure Athena doesn’t see it, otherwise she will surely destroy my latest piece of writing. When I was younger, growing up with a mortal family, I had always loved to read. As I grew older, I was introduced to the idea that I could write stories like the ones I love, whose origins I had never really thought of. My love of words, and English in general, has only grown since then, along with the number of stories I have read and written. I am the goddess of words, worshipped by the Greek mortals. I deserve the title of goddess of words because I can speak many languages, I am loquacious, and I am quite skilled at convincing mortals that what I am saying is veritable.

The first quality that leads to me being the goddess of words is fluency in many languages. “Arey yaar! Mi computadora…” I mutter, exasperated. I have always used English, Spanish, and Hindi interchangeably at home. English is, of course, my first language, but it seems like I started learning Hindi at the same time. Both my parents are from India, an occurrence that led to my family visiting every year and a half or so. Because of this, and the fact that they often talk in Hindi at home, I slowly picked up this precise language. With Spanish, I must kudize my siblings and a show I used to idolize called Dora the Explorer. From Dora, the main character of this show, I learned the basics, like, “hello,” and, “goodbye,” and, “let’s go!” I also learned some Spanish from my siblings, who were both taking it in middle and high school. As I learned more and more, from my siblings and, later, school, I started to descry similarities between Hindi and Spanish. For example, tú, which means you in Spanish, has the exact same meaning in Hindi. This aspect is very important for my divinity, because I am able to communicate with many different people. It is also important that I know so many languages, considering that I will be able to understand similar languages as well.

The second trait is that I am voluble. I can, and often do, speak for quite a while. I am able to converse with anyone from the most rowdy elephant to the most taciturn mouse. This is very important to me, because I wouldn’t be much of a goddess of words if I never talked to anybody! When I was little, I used to live in a mortal region called California. I remember one day meeting two girls, sisters, at a party. The older sister was as talkative as I was, and we chatted unremittingly. Soon, though, I noticed that her younger sister was very quiet, and looked a little out of place. I suddenly turned to her and started speaking, asking questions about everything, from school to favorite books. Presently, she began to react to my words, and, by the end of the party, we were communing like old friends.

The third, and last, facet of my adroitness is the ability to sway my audience. This trick is especially useful because I can convince mortals to worship and give offerings to the other gods and goddesses, and naturally me. I can also persuade the other immortals that yes, I am perfect for the title of goddess of words. In the second grade, when I used to live in the territory of Oregon, I would often find childish pleasure in convincing my friends to make me things in our free time. If they did, they would earn a star. I recall that at the end of the year, I had so many ‘gifts’ to take home!

I am the goddess of words because I am learned in many languages, excellent at conversing, and very convincing. I have always pondered if, someday, I would be able to coalesce all, or the most well-known, of the languages of the world into one, universal tongue. Maybe, with this language, I could change the future, or past, with my lucid words, by convincing time that what I am saying is what happened or will happen. Perhaps one day I will be able to convince Kronos to rest, to slow down, to stop trying to come back for a few centuries. And so, once again, she saved Olympus, with just her mighty words.

MTH: Chapter 1, The First Meeting

Hey guys!!

I know it's been a while, but as a reward for your patience, I have the first installment of my new story, Myra The Hidden. It's a fantasy story, set in another galaxy. :) I will try and update it at least once every week. Here you go!:


Lyion realized somebody was behind him right before a hand covered his mouth.

He struggled fiercely, temper bubbling, but it was in vain. Then, a voice whispered in his ear.

“Unless you want me to be caught--and trust me, you don’t--be quiet!”

Lyion stopped struggling almost immediately. It was a girl! The hand slowly moved away, the girl seeming to trust that he wouldn’t make too much noise. Lyion spun around, quickly but quietly, to see the person who had snuck up on him. A tall girl with black hair caught up in a ponytail was crouched behind his bed, dressed in dark clothes to be less visible. Her eyes were roaming around Lyion’s bedroom, taking in every detail, from the royal blue walls to the green and blue spotted bed sheet that he was sitting on. Even though she seemed not to be paying attention to him, as soon as Lyion moved her eyes snapped back, petrifying him.

He slowly moved away from her, wondering if he could get to the hidden chain on the wall next to him. The girl seemed to know where he was going, as she pulled something out of her pocket. “Looking for this?” she asked, a little teasingly. Lyion stared incredulously at the chain in the girl’s hand, then back to her face. How had did she done that?

“Why don’t I want you be captured? ” Lyion asked, trying to distract the girl.

A glint of amusement shone in her eyes. “Because then you’ll never be able to forget the you led an innocent girl to her imprisonment, especially when she did nothing at all to hurt or harm you,” she said calmly. Lyion stopped searching for an escape route and looked at the girl properly, surprised by her uncannily accurate prediction: he would feel that way.

“Who are you?” Lyion asked. The girl’s expression didn’t change, but her hazel eyes seemed to, so that they were more sharp and forbidding than before.

Then, the girl did the one thing Lyion didn’t expect. She disappeared through the secret passageway in his closet that led outside (which only he was supposed to know about) and into the small forest nearby. Lyion wasn’t expecting it, but he still reacted pretty quickly. He chased after the girl, following glimpses he had of her.

But then she disappeared.

Lyion stopped, all his anger gone. Where was she? What if she really was innocent, and now she was captured, and it was all his fault? Although, it wouldn’t really be his fault.

“Hello?” Lyion called out, seriously scared now. That girl had led him into the center of the forest, and he didn’t know the way out. What would he do?

“I’m behind you.”

Lyion spun around, delighted in spite of himself. But there was nothing there.

Then a hand touched his shoulder, while another hand covered his mouth, which was good, since he screamed.

“Gydith’s eyes, are you...are you....invisible?”

“Sorry Lyion, I didn’t mean to scare you. No, I’m not invisible.”

Lyion was staring with wide eyes at as the girl stepped out of the shadows in front of him. How did she know his name? And how did she do that? The girl took one look at his wide dark brown eyes, and then her eyes sparkled.

“How...how do you know my name?” Lyion managed to stammer. The girl’s expression flickered.

“It’s a long story.”

“Okay, then at least tell me your name.” Lyion was getting less and less unnerved by the situation, and more and more like his usual, slightly nosy self.

The girl looked away for a second, then turned to look at Lyion head on. She stared deep into his eyes, seeming to search for something, her own eyes narrowing, and then, suddenly, she looked at his face for a very long time. Lyion blushed. He was getting more and more uncomfortable, because it seemed like the girl’s gaze could penetrate his very thoughts, including (he squirmed a little) his budding attraction to her. The girl finally stepped back, her face falling into shadow, her clothes blending into the trees.

“My name is Myra.”

‘Myra. That’s a pretty name,’ Lyion thought. He looked in the general direction of where she had stepped back, trying to see her. ‘Now where did she go?’ He sighed.

“Myra?” he asked, trying out her name. “Why did you go into the shadows?” Lyion stepped forward so he could see better.

“Wrong way,” breathed a voice near his shoulder. He spun around, heart thumping. Myra was standing barely a centimeter in front of him, and, as soon as he turned, put her cool hand under his chin and lifted it, staring into his eyes again. Lyion was frozen in place, terrified, unable to look away from her eyes, with their flecks of green, brown, even a small tinge of light blue.

He was once again struck by the feeling that Myra knew exactly what he was thinking. She dropped his chin, somewhat abruptly, turning away to the shadows again. By the time Lyion could move again, she was gone.

“Wait! Myra!” He said, crashing through the trees, trying to find her.

“Yes?” Myra said softly, appearing in front of him. Lyion stopped, almost bumping into her. He was a little annoyed that she kept on disappearing and appearing like that, constantly unnerving him.

“Are...are you going?”

“I have to.” Myra must have seen Lyion’s disappointed look, but she merely tilted her head a little.

“W...will you come back?” Lyion looked at Myra hopefully, almost immediately noticing his question’s bad effect. Myra’s eyes and face seemed to close off.

“Hopefully not.”

Lyion looked at her, a clear question on his face, but Myra didn’t answer it.“Why? Did you do something wrong?”

Myra looked at him, a little hesitantly, Lyion thought.

“Not in my eyes. Unless living here is something bad.” Then, she tilted her head. “Being the heir to the throne is really quite important to you, right?”

Lyion looked confused. “Yes. Why?”

“Never mind.” And then she was gone.

“Myra!” Lyion said desperately, his confusion forgotten for the moment.

Myra’s voice appeared out of nowhere. “Go back until you come to a clearing. Then turn left and you’ll see a path. Follow it.”

Lyion stared at where the voice came from for a few moments, then slowly followed Myra’s instructions. As he walked, he wondered why Myra was here, and why she asked that curious question. Why did she care? He was happy she came, but still, why did she appear in his bedroom? Was she looking for him? (He liked that idea.) Who was she? Myra, yes, but was she an orphan? A thief? (Lyion convinced himself it wasn’t true.) He resolved to ask her when she came back (if she came back he couldn’t help thinking).

Lyion was lost in his thoughts as he walked back to the palace of Valmont, his home. He trudged up to his room, absently nodding to the guards positioned outside his door and ignoring the servants who were asking if he wanted anything, and then plopped on his bed, sighing softly.

“I want to be left alone,” he said to the last servant that came in. The servant nodded, then bowed out of the room. Lyion laid down on his bed and fell into a sleep littered with dreams.

Tasmanian Tigers

Yo,

I guess next time is now. I wrote this story—it's actually a Greek myth—because I absolutely adore Greek myths!! It explains why Tasmanian tigers are extinct. Well, not really....


Artemis and her followers—a mix of nymphs, naiads and dogs—were walking in a wetland in Tasmania when an animal walked up. It was obviously very shy and afraid of the group. Artemis slowed down, wondering what this strange creature was. The animal looked like a tiger, with the stripes and everything, but it was built like a dog. Because of this, and because this animal was first seen in Tasmania, Artemis decided to name it the Tasmanian tiger. She decided that she would tell her relatives, the Olympians, about the tiger and then hunt one or two to add to her collection of animal furs.

Artemis started to run towards Mount Olympus, and then she noticed that the tiger was following her! She stopped, told the rest of her group to go on, and then turned to face the tiger. She pulled out one of her unlimited arrows, fit it to her bow, took aim, and shot. The tiger stood still the entire time, staring at the silver bow curiously. Artemis sighed as she turned around again, now holding a dead Tasmanian tiger in her hand, the bow strapped once more onto her back.

When she finally reached Mount Olympus, and the rest of her family, Artemis went straight to where Zeus and Poseidon were having an argument (probably about the weather).

“Father, uncle,” she said to them. Zeus glanced at her, and then, reluctantly and with a “We will continue this!” to his brother, turned to face one of his favorite children.

“Yes?” he asked, a bit annoyed. Poseidon turned to face his niece as well.

“I found a new species.”

Athena joined them immediately. “A new species? May I see the skin?”

Artemis sighed, as usual annoyed at how Athena could figure out everything, and then passed over the, yes, now removed skin that she had put into her quiver. Athena took it with a look of great happiness, then frowned. Artemis wondered at the look on her face.

“What is it?” Poseidon asked impatiently.

“The skin is of a tiger, but it is shaped like a dog, right cousin?”

Artemis nodded.

Athena smiled. “May I study this?”

Artemis nodded again, and Athena walked off to her room/study.

“Why did you shoot it?” Zeus asked. “Why didn’t you show it to us first?”

“Because it was following me. I didn’t want an animal to dirty the floors of your great hall,” said Artemis with more than a hint of sarcasm. Zeus never understood sarcasm, so his children enjoyed abusing it.

Zeus nodded, pacified.

“Where did you find the animal?” Poseidon asked.

“In Tasmania, in the wetlands. I named it the Tasmanian tiger.”

Poseidon seemed to think. “If you found it in the wetlands...” he said slowly.

Artemis winced, for she knew an argument was going to start over whose animal this was. There was always an argument over new species, but this one would be worse than usual. Because the tiger lives in the wetlands, it could be part of Poseidon’s realm, but as it was on the land, it wasn’t technically a sea animal.

Artemis slipped away, meaning to hunt some more. Unfortunately, the fight between Poseidon and Zeus got so serious that Artemis was almost fried by a lightning bolt! She turned around, furious, and then she saw that the fight had gone on to include some other gods and goddesses; Aphrodite, Athena, Ares, and Dionysus were but a few. Artemis realized that it could destroy the world and Mount Olympus, because the immortals were becoming increasingly angry, and some mortals were already feeling the wrath. She made a split second decision: she would kill all of the tigers that were the reason for this fight. She snuck back to the wetlands, and started. By the time she was almost done, the gods had stopped fighting and were begging her to stop. Artemis hesitated in killing the last tiger, and then agreed to this:

The tiger would be kept at Mount Olympus forever, and the gods would make sure that it doesn’t breed, but Tasmanian tigers wouldn’t be extinct. And, as an afterthought, Artemis made her family agree that the tiger would be part of her realm.

So that is why there are no more Tasmanian tigers. At least, not on Earth.

Writing Contest

Hey guys!!

Thanks for all of your support!!—it encouraged me to enter two of my posts in the Echoes Writing Contest. Somehow, "The Theft That Colleges Do" and "A Memory" managed to win first and runner-up respectively!!! You can read the other winning pieces here.

Until next time!!!

Another World

Hey guys!

Guess what? I just got won my first writing competition!! My submission will be published in Poetic Power's 6-8 Grade Essay Book. You will probably know right away which scene in which book it's describing!

I stare at the world below me, at the flashes of light and the yells and screams. I watch as three people run towards a large tree that is shaking in the wind - but wait. There is no wind! The tree is moving by itself, slashing and hitting anything that gets near. I watch in horror and anticipation as those three people reach the tree, waiting for the branch to come crashing down on their heads. But no, they're too fast, and they slip down a hole at the base of the tree. I follow, hiding with them behind a crate, watching the two people walking and talking in the room. I look closer and see that one of them has the face of a snake, and that a snake is in a floating box near his - her, it's? - head. The other man seems terrified of the snake, but more of the man with the snake face. I listen closely and hear 'My Lord' repeated over and over, as if this 'lord' is a high and mighty being. I gasp as I hear the words, spoken in a slithering tongue: Kill him. I wait in anticipation - and am jerked back to reality by my dad standing near my bed, where I am curled up. “Megha,” he says, “It’s time to go to sleep.” I groan, because I was at one of the most exciting parts. I reluctantly put Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows on my bedside table and close my eyes, already impatient for tomorrow so I can go back to the book. I sigh, rolling over, and think of Lord Voldemort and Severus Snape and Harry Potter and Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley and....

Dear Anne Frank

Sorry for the wait. Here's my first not really a story draft which is perhaps fitting as it's about one of the first not really a story books I loved.


Dear Anne Frank,

Your diary is the only nonfiction book I have ever read written by and entirely about a kid my age, instead of just another adult. Plus, it was the first nonfiction book I ever read that wasn’t toned down and presented the real world to kids. Before, I never realized how horrible the Holocaust was beyond a big, bad thing that targeted Jews. I never thought people my age like me would ever be forced into hiding, encounter death, or face other horrors. You may think I’m naive, or something else along that line, but I always believed that, sure, these things do happen, but only to adults. Your diary made me feel really sorry and sad for other kids, kids like you, who were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, and it made me fully appreciate my luck not to be born at such a time. I’m really glad that a war isn’t going on, especially a World War (World War III would be awful!).

You know, I think the reason your words and your story struck me so deeply is because we’re kind of similar! Well, okay, I never lived during a major war, I never had to hide, I never wrote constantly in a diary (although I have written in one), and so on, but I have felt some of the things you felt. For example, I sometimes feel lonely, just like you, although my loneliness is different than yours. I feel lonely because my sister and brother, who have lived with me since I was born, have left for college. You, on the other hand, have a much more lonely loneliness, if that makes sense, because you don’t have any really good friends, except for Kitty. I think feeling lonely is unfortunate, because it makes it harder to stay happy and look on the bright side. But it is also sort of good, because, like for me, when your sister and brother come visit, you feel so much happier than you would feel if they had never left, and, like for you, when you do find a friend, it feels so much better.

I’m a chatterbox too, and, just like you, I’ve gotten in trouble because of it. But really, I don’t get why we have to get in trouble for it. Well, yes, we would get distracted, but, sooner or later, we always get back to work. But if people stop us from talking, we keep on trying to talk, to finish our discussion, or we learn not to talk to people. We learn to keep things to ourselves, and then we never share things, and friends slowly drift apart, because nobody will talk or confide in anyone, because we don’t know how to talk properly anymore!

I have also lived in many place, as I was born in Texas, moved to California when I was a year old, and then moved to Oregon just before 1st grade. My family has never lived in one place for more than 5 years, although I think we might break that record now. I think it’s fun to keep on moving, although every time you do, you have to make new friends and go to a new school and the first few weeks are crazy, ‘cause everyone is unpacking and you’re meeting all your neighbors, and you’re getting used to your new school, and it’s just insane! But it’s fun, afterwards.

I really want to be a writer too! I adore writing, and I have loads of unfinished stories just waiting to be finished. I am kind of jealous of you, because you got a book published when you were only 14. Despite the fact that its publication came about partially because of your misfortune, your book taught me that kids can write as powerfully, if not more powerfully, than adults. It taught me that books can change the world, and those books can be written by kids like me. You’re one of my role models. I want to change the world with my writing, like you changed people’s view of the Holocaust with your diary. And you have given me the inspiration, the push, to do it. If I am lucky enough to change the world even a little bit with my writing, it will be because you did it first, and I am very thankful for that one day that you decided to start a diary.

I know now that the world isn’t as perfect as I imagined. I know now that it can be cruel to kids like me, along with adults, but I also know that kids, like adults, can overcome misfortune and actually use it to change the world. I know, because you opened my eyes.

So thanks,

Megha Dalal

The Booke of Vane

My first completely fiction draft!! It's a bit long...


She could hear the footsteps getting closer. Allie stopped walking and looked over her shoulder. Caleb was heading towards her, his cropped brown-black-and-blonde hair swaying in the slight breeze.

“What do you want now?” Allie asked, turning to face him, a frown darkening her usually bright face. Caleb stopped a few feet from her, and tilted his head as if to say ‘don’t you know?’. Of course, Allie could guess. She shook her head. “No. You can’t have the book.”

Caleb sighed. “Why not?”

Allie stepped back a little, then scolded herself. Why was she afraid of him? “I found it. It’s mine by right.”

Caleb scowled. “So what if you found it? That doesn’t mean it’s yours. It just means you found something that belongs to my family. It means you’re a thief if you keep it.”

“No! Leave me alone, Caleb!” Allie turned and ran as fast as she could. Unfortunately, Caleb was faster, and easily caught up to her.

“Allie. Listen to yourself.” He took her hand. “We’re best friends. I can find you,” It wasn’t a threat, just something they both knew. Allie could find him too.

She yanked her hand from his. “I don’t care. I’ll keep on running until I lose you, or you get tired and leave me alone,” said Allie as Caleb looked at her steadily.

“You know that will never happen,” Allie bit back an angry retort. She did know. Caleb would never stop trying to find her, never stop trying to get the book. He would never give up. Allie took a deep breath.

“Caleb, please! I don’t want trouble. Please, just leave me alone!” she begged. She was scared (or pretending to be scared), because she knew Caleb’s powerful family could cause a lot of trouble for her not so powerful family, and he really did believe that the book was his. Caleb seemed to be thinking.

“I can’t. My family needs the book. Just give it to me!” Allie shook her head.

“No!” she said as she ran away.... Allie woke up. She sat up, gasping, then fell back on her bed. “I’m sorry Caleb,” she moaned. It had all started this summer, when she and Caleb were still best friends. They had gone on a walk near the tiny lake right next to Caleb’s house. There were rumors of ghosts in the lake, so naturally two eleven-year-olds would want to explore. They had played and played until Allie, always the more careless and adventurous one, had hit on the amazing idea of playing ‘Who Can Push The Other Into The Lake First?’. Caleb didn’t really want to play, until Allie pushed him in. Then he got angry, as Allie knew he would, and pushed her in too. They were both laughing, and then Allie, while she was getting up, felt a hard, cool, smooth thing. She had picked it up, and found that it was a book, a very thick book.

Allie had looked up at Caleb, and had noticed that there was a very odd look on his face, one she had never seen before. She later realized that it was longing, and amazement, and awe. Caleb, who had never shown surprise or awe, ever, was showing it for a book? And then, Allie had remembered, after staring at the book for a while, the story Caleb had once told her of a lost relic of his ancestors. According to the story, Caleb’s great-great-great-grandparents had written a book telling about everything that had happened in the family so far, so it was very thick (kind of like the book from the lake). They had hidden the book, no one knows where, and ever since then, every generation, the book reveals itself to someone in the Vane family, and that family member has the task of documenting every single event that happens in their time. Then, when they feel it is complete, the person hides the book again.

No one had found it in this generation yet, according to Caleb. Allie had realized that Caleb thought the lake book was the book! He had demanded Allie to give it to him, and of course Allie had said no, being the stubborn cat that she is. Caleb had, of course, gotten mad, and had tried to grab the book. Allie had taken off running, and ever since, she and Caleb hadn’t been best friends. Allie sometimes wished that she had never found the book in the first place. It had just brought trouble.

Allie got up from her bed and opened the drawer where the book was hidden. She pulled it out, studying the intricate designs on the front. Once again, Allie tried to open it, with no luck. The lock, not unlike a lock on one of those diaries that you can buy at the store that come with keys that seem to be the exact same and are amazingly easy to pick...that’s it! Allie jumped up and, still clutching the book, ran across the room. In her Lego house was a paperclip already twisted into shape from when she had been bored earlier. She grabbed it and fit it into the book’s lock. Then, holding her breath, Allie turned it.

It worked! The lock opened, and Allie let it fall to the ground, taking the time to put the paper clip back safely. Then she walked slowly back to her bed.

“I wouldn’t get my hopes up if I were you,” a voice called from her doorway. Allie jumped, dropping the book on her bed.

“Caleb!” she gasped. Caleb was leaning across the doorway, his eyes dull.

“Hi Allie,” he whispered. Allie slowly walked towards him.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“Yes,” Caleb sighed. “Eric found the book,” Allie raised an eyebrow.

“You mean Eric, your brother, found the book you thought this was?” She held up the book she was about to open. Caleb nodded.

“Poor Cal!” Allie said, using Caleb’s old nickname. “You had wanted to find it so badly!”

“Yeah,” Caleb seemed to sag under the disappointment. Allie put a reassuring hand on his arm.

“Maybe you’re just too cool to have been chosen,” she suggested. Caleb smiled.

“Thanks,” And then his smile turned mischievous. “Which obviously means I’m cooler than you are!” he teased. Allie sighed.

“Aren’t we getting too old for this?” she asked sadly. Caleb looked at her in amazement.

“My best friend Allie Pinson thinks we’re too old to have fun?!” Allie suddenly smiled, secretly happy at how quickly they became friends again.

“I was kidding! Which means I am cooler than you, ‘cause you believed me,” She stuck her tongue out at her friend, then ran outside. “Race y-” she called, but Caleb had already passed her.

“I know you too well Allie,” he said to her surprised face. “You can never beat me!”

“Caleb!” she scolded, half laughing, half annoyed. He grinned at her. Then Allie remembered something. “So what was the book we found?” she asked. Caleb shrugged.

“Let’s go see. Maybe it’s a diary,” Allie and Caleb headed back into Allie’s room. Allie picked up the book, and studied the cover.

“Look!” she said in excitement. There was faded writing on the cover.

“The Booke of Vane,” Allie and Caleb read aloud. Caleb suddenly grinned.

“That’s it! The Booke of Vane, that’s the book!”

Allie gasped. “So this really is the book you thought it was..” she said, lost in thought. Caleb’s grin disappeared as he saw her face.

“Yeah. It is,” he began slowly.

“And your family would want it,” Allie continued.

“So I need it,” Caleb finished. The two friends looked at each other for a very long time, both thinking different things.

‘I wonder what it says?’ Allie thought. ‘I will never be able to read it if Caleb takes it. He wouldn’t let me. But I want to! What harm would it do?’

‘It’s the book!’ Caleb was thinking. ‘The book of my family! I can’t let Allie keep it, I have to bring it home.’ Caleb opened his mouth, determined to convince Allie to give him the book, but Allie, knowing what he was going to do, clutched the book, decided.

“No,” she said. “I’m sorry Cal, but I can’t give you the book yet! I’ll die of curiosity if I can’t read it.”

Caleb blinked and frowned. “Allie, you can’t read it. There are secrets in there, secrets only a Vane can know!”

Allie glared at him. “I don’t believe you,” she declared. Caleb tried to grab the book, but Allie avoided him. “Get out of my room, Cal. It’s not nice to steal something that isn’t yours.”

Caleb was shocked. “Allie....?”

She turned away. “Go away!” Caleb looked at her in complete surprise. No words would come. He just left, letting the door close behind him. He walked, not noticing where he was going, letting his feet lead him where they wanted to. Now what would he do?!

Allie waited until she heard the downstairs door close, then sat on her bed. She couldn’t believe she did that! The look on Caleb’s face... Allie shook her head. She glanced at the book that was the subject of their argument. She did want to read it, but now she couldn’t without feeling guilty. She briefly considered the idea of going to Caleb’s house and apologizing, but quickly dismissed it. What would Cal say? Allie was a little cheered by thinking of all the fights she and Cal had gotten into. Maybe this was like those ones, and they would forgive each other soon? No, no, this seemed different. Allie made a decision.

“Mom!” she called, “I’m going to Cal’s house!” She grabbed the book and her jacket and tore through the house. She stopped at Cal’s house, nervously gasping. Allie knocked on the door, using Cal and her secret language for ‘I need to talk to you!’ She could hear a whispered conversation, and then a groan.

“Yes?” Cal said grumpily. Allie smiled up at him.

“Hi Cal!” she said cheerily. Cal glared at her.

“What da’ya want?”

Allie still smiled. “Can I come in? I have to give you something.” Cal’s eyebrows jumped at her last few words.

“Oh, okay then. Come in.” He quickly ushered Allie to his room. She sat on the bed, and then pulled the book out of her pocket. Cal’s eyes sparkled as soon as he looked at it. Then he looked at her. “Are you giving it to me?” he asked quietly. Allie hesitated.

Then she nodded.

“It’s your book,” she pointed out. “And, well, I looked inside...” Allie ignored the furious look Cal was giving her. “I can’t understand what it says. It’s really messily written, which means it would probably be easy for you to read.” Cal impatiently shifted weight from one foot to another. Allie almost burst out laughing. “All right, all right, I’ll give it to you,” she said.

“Thank you!” Cal burst out. Allie didn’t offer the book yet though.

“On one condition,” she added. Cal sighed. Whenever his best friend said that, he knew she was going to ask something ridiculous.

“What now?” he asked ruefully. Allie smiled mischievously.

“You have to tell me what you read.” Cal thought about it for a while. He wasn’t even going to tell his family, and now Allie wanted to know? It was supposed to be a secret! And he almost said no. But then Cal thought about it. He knew Allie, well enough to know that there was no other way to get the book. And it’s not like the world would end if his best friend, who wouldn’t tell anyone else, knew.

“Fine,” Cal said boldly, hoping that his family wouldn’t disown him when (if) they found out. It was almost worth it to see the look on Allie’s face.

“Really?!” she asked, almost literally leaping off Cal’s bedroom walls.

“Yes, really,” he confirmed. Allie handed Cal the book and motioned for him to sit on the bed next to her. Cal took the seat warily, knowing what Allie could do if she was excited enough. Then he opened the book, and started reading...