Zoey found me ten minutes later, holding a stack of books two feet high. “Nikki? You okay? You look like you just saw a ghost wearing a glitter beret.”
My heart did a little tap-dance. The cover was worn, the corners softened like they’d been chewed by a golden retriever, and the spine had those beautiful white crease lines that meant someone had read it a dozen times. Someone had loved this book. dork diaries used books
“This book belongs to Nikki Maxwell. If lost, return to the art room. Bring cupcakes.” Zoey found me ten minutes later, holding a
We split up. Zoey took the “Young Readers” section near the front, which was really just three shelves of Goosebumps and old Baby-Sitters Club books. I headed for the labyrinth in the back, where the shelves leaned like tired grandparents and the categories made no sense. “Fiction” bled into “Self-Help” which bled into “Cookbooks from 1987.” You look like you just saw a ghost wearing a glitter beret
Next to the scene where Nikki’s mom comforts her, Mackenzie had written: “My mom is always on a cruise. With her new husband. #whatever”
I bought the book for $1.25. Then I went home and, on a sticky note, wrote a message. Not mean. Not revenge. Just:
I stuck the note on the inside cover, right over her purple gel pen name.
