24 Lillian Lane

EVE

I gasp. There's a foot in the wall!

Jack just kicked a hole in my bedroom wall. Jack just kicked a hole in MY bedroom wall!

The sneaker is replaced by a singular brown eye.

"Shoot," Jack says.

I want to say something back to him, like "you blew it, dorkface" but I can't bring my jaw back up to its normal position.

"Wow. Your room is so... clean," is the next thing out of Jack's mouth.

I come to my senses. "Stop that! What makes you think it's okay to snoop on me through my own wall?"

"I don't know. Sorry. Um, can you maybe, NOT tell my parents about this?"

"Oh, you bet I will."

"Please, Eve. They'd have to redo the wall and that means NO wall for like, weeks."

He has a point. No way that would work out.

"Just, cover it or something. We can figure out how to repair it some other time."

"We? As in both of us?"

I sigh. "Yes, I'll help you." I don't know why I say this.

I can tell from his eye through the hole that he's smiling. "Thanks, Eve."

And something is thrown over the hole, blocking it.

"Eve!" a voice calls. My mother. "Come down here!"

"Dinner?" I shout, racing down the stairs.

"Slow down, young lady, don't run on the stairs. And no, not exactly."

My mother is at the kitchen table. She looks like an older, more organized version of me. Her brown hair is pulled back in a tight bun, and she wears a business suit. My mother works part time at some office building, and part time as a yoga instructor. Today is an office day. My father is also at the table, talking on the phone. He has greying hair, glasses, and my bright green eyes. He works as a physics professor at Mètienne University, where he not only teaches students science, he teaches it in French. I don't understand a word of French, but my mom is fluent, and it's my dad's first language.

He hangs up the phone.
"Brianne, la pizza! Je ne comprends pas ces chefs! Pourquoi a-t-on décidé à commander ce 'fast-food'?"

What did I just hear? I don't know much French, but I definitely heard the words "pizza" and "fast food". My parents are the BIGGEST health nuts. Are they insane?

"What, mother?" I ask. She hates it when I call her Mom.

"Well, your FATHER here burned the poppyseed salmon filets, so we had to, uh, order something in. We called that pizza place downtown."

I'm shocked. The only time I've ever eaten pizza is at soccer tournaments. My parents, ordering pizza? Unheard of.

"Great!" I say.

"But, well, we did it wrong. We wanted 6 slices, but, they thought we wanted 6 pizzas."

I finally notice the gigantic stack of pizza boxes by the door. My dog Piper is sniffing them curiously. I can't believe this. My parents couldn't figure out how to order pizza. I mentally facepalm.

"So, now what?" I ask.

"Well, remember what we said about human decency?" my dad asks. "We're going to give some to the Andersons."

What? Why couldn't we keep it for ourselves? Pizza for a week would be awesome! But I nod anyway. Hopefully they don't find out about the punching scandal from today.

That's how I got to be standing here, at the door of 24B Lillian Lane, about to give pizza to my greatest enemy.

I ring the doorbell.