New Kid Catastrophes: 1 (TJ and the Time Stumblers) (22 page)

a light evening breeze blowing through the new hole in TJ’s bedroom wall. The new hole that was roughly the size of a very large cannonball.

It had been a rough day for Hesper Breakahart, too. Besides the usual problems that came with being a super-rich, super-spoiled, and super-famous TV star on the Dizzy Channel, she had a terrible headache. There were three whiny reasons for her suffering:

WHINY REASON #1

The thirteen-year-old beauty queen had found a split end in her perfectly styled and perfectly blonde (because it was perfectly dyed) hair.

But that catastrophe was nothing compared to

WHINY REASON #2

Hesper had nearly broken a nail—which is a danger you risk when your PTB (Personal Tooth Brusher) calls in sick and you have to brush your teeth by yourself.

But even that was small potatoes (or in Hesper’s case, very small portions of caviar) when compared to

WHINY REASON #3

She was still having to talk to the common people. (Insert gasp here.) That’s right, the great Hesper Breakahart, star of stage, screen, and her own ego, actually had to pretend to like her fellow students.

It had all started last week when the new girl from Memphis—or Miami or whatever that Midwest state that starts with an
M
is called—embarrassed her in front of the entire school. For five terrifying minutes, every student at Malibu Junior High had heard Hesper’s real thoughts broadcast through the school’s PA system. Now they
all
knew how much she loathed them. (It’s not that Hesper was a snob, but when you’re as big a winner as she is, it’s hard to ignore how big a loser everyone else is.)

So for the last week, she’d had to go around school telling those awful, average people how much she respected them (insert second gasp here). Talk about embarrassing. Talk about humiliating. It was almost as bad as when she had to share the cover of
Teen Idol
with some stupid brother band that everyone was all gaga over.

But now it was

Hesper Breakahart was going to think up a plan so nasty and so evil that TB—or BLT or whatever that new girl’s name was—would wish she’d never been born.

“So what will it be?” Hesper’s very best friend since forever asked while sitting at Hesper’s feet. (All of Hesper’s subjects—er, friends—sat at her feet. Usually around the pool, working on their tans.)

“I don’t know,” Hesper said, drawing her perfectly plucked eyebrows into a perfectly plucked frown.

“Make her drink regular tap water?” Hesper’s other very best friend since forever asked. (When you’re a TV star, you’ve got plenty of very best friends.)

“Take away her credit cards?” another very best friend asked.

“Make it so she can’t get a pedicure for a whole month?”

All the girls shuddered.

“Oh, I know; I know,” the first very best friend said.

Hesper turned to her. “Yes, er, um . . .”

“Elizabeth.”

Hesper flashed her recently whitened, glow-in-the-dark-teeth smile. “Yes, of course it is. What’s on your mind, um, er . . .”

“Elizabeth.”

“Right.”

Elizabeth didn’t need Hesper to know her name. Just letting her hang at the pool and breathe the same air was enough. “You know how weird stuff seems to be happening whenever the new kid is around?”

“Yes,” another very best friend since forever said, “like the book that flew across Mr. Beaker’s class when she came into the room?”

Another very best friend (I told you she had plenty) added, “Or that dodgeball that made a U-turn and hit you when she was in PE?”

“Or how ’bout when she—?”

“Please, please.” Hesper held up her perfectly manicured hand. “Must we always be talking about her?”

Elizabeth frowned. “But I thought—”

“We were talking about what
I
was going to do to her.”

“Oh, right.” Elizabeth glanced down, embarrassed. If there was one thing you didn’t talk about when you were around Hesper Breakahart, it was other people.

Hesper reached out an understanding hand and patted Elizabeth on the head. “That’s okay, um, er, whoever you are.”

Another very best friend since forever spoke up. “What if
you
hired a private detective?”

Hesper turned to her, waiting for more.

“
You
could have him find some dirt on her for
you
, and then
you
could tell everybody what
you
learned.”

“
I
could?” Hesper asked. She was already liking the plan. (Well, not so much the plan as the
star
of the plan.) “But where would
I
find a detective to do that for
me
?”

Elizabeth’s hand shot up in the air. “I could do it! I could do it!”

Hesper scowled.

Immediately, Elizabeth realized her error. “That is, for
you
. I could do it for
you
so
you
could tell everybody what
you
learned.”

“Hmm . . .” A smile slowly crept around the corners of Hesper’s all-too-perfect lips. “I like that . . . what’s-your-name. Yes, I like that a lot.”