Boots & Pieces

chapter 1If ty hadn't kicked me in the head that day, I probably wouldn't even have noticed when Stacy Sizemore disappeared. Heck, nobody else really seemed to, not at first anyway. Not until they found the pieces.We were out in my front yard after school, just fooling around, practicing our karate moves. Not that either one of us takes karate. The karate teacher down at Jazzercise quit to open a lube shop three counties over. But we weren't about to let that stop us -- I mean, we watch kung fu on TV all the time. What's to know?Apparently a lot, because I'd barely even settled on a kung fu pose before Ty jumped up and kicked me right in the forehead. I have to admit, it was a great shot. I couldn't appreciate it right then, though, since I was busy keeling over and nearly cracking my skull on Tootie, Mom's plastic garden duck. I was glad Tootie survived, but I couldn't even begin to do that "I'm okay" routine to make Ty feel better. Heck, Tootie was lucky she didn't end up wearing the SpaghettiOs I had for lunch. It hurt that bad.It was right about then that Stacy Sizemore came trotting out of her house. I say trotting because she had on her favorite pink heels -- the three-inch ones with the bow on the front that make her take funny little baby steps. There I was, writhing in agony, and what does Stacy do? Without a word, Stacy Sizemore just steps over my head and staggers into her car, leaving me on the ground choking in a cloud of her cheap perfume. Isn't that great? She wasn't even that careful about it. I'm serious -- I could've lost an ear.I'm actually surprised I didn't; that's the kind of thing that would happen to me. Years from now I'd be on the senior superlatives page in the yearbook, next to the kids voted Class Clown, Most Popular, Most Likely to Succeed -- you know, the good ones. And there I'd be, Arlene Jacobs, plain kid, brown hair, missing that ear, voted Most Likely to Lose Another Body Part. And my class quote would be, "Gee, thanks, Stacy."So when she turned up missing the next day, I took particular interest. Okay, maybe it was part gloating -- a see-what-happens-when-you-step-on-my-hair type of thing. (Because she totally stepped on my hair when I was lying on the sidewalk.) But I'm sure a little of it was real friendly concern.At least I was nicer about it than Tina. Tina's in the same grade with Stacy, and honestly, I couldn't even tell if she'd heard Stacy was missing, that's how unconcerned she was. It wasn't until I saw her out back practicing her cheers that I knew she'd heard the news. Tina's been trying to get on the cheerleading squad forever, but she's convinced Stacy's been blackballing her out of spite. With Stacy gone, Tina must've figured that spot on the squad was hers. But I'll give it to you straight: I've seen Tina cheer. It isn't spite. Tina just sucks, that's all. But like I can say that, right? I like my head. I don't want it bitten off.Mom and Dad, on the other hand, were pretty freaked out about Stacy. When I got home from school the next day, the phone was ringing. It was Mom. Then, two seconds later, Dad called. They did the same alternating phone call routine every ten minutes for the next four hours, just to make sure we hadn't been kidnapped or murdered for our snackie cakes. At one point nature called, and for obvious reasons, it took me a little longer to get to the phone. You should've heard Mom's voice. She was so shrill, she sounded like Minnie Mouse.It was hard for me to get all worked up, though. I mean, sure, Stacy was missing and all, but it wasn't like I was looking over my shoulder every five minutes. If I wigged out over every supposed threat or rumor that went around this town, I'd be bouncing off the walls. Which of course my parents do.Last summer, it was the gang of Jamaican drug dealers that we had to watch out for. Not that anybody ever saw a Jamaican drug dealer. That Reynolds kidEcton, Emily is the author of 'Boots & Pieces' with ISBN 9781416961673 and ISBN 1416961674.