I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the big question. "Finale, will you marry me?"
"Ew! You are so weird! And gross!"
Saw that coming.
Hi, I'm Matt Moonstone. I like ice cream, chess, and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. My best friend ever is my aunt, Ally, but she told me she doesn't like me much and that we're only friends because she feels sorry for me. I know she's really mean, but Grandma Cassie says I should just be patient because she's insecure.
She made fun of me for winning the "Best Dancer" trophy at our ballet recital. Ally's in ballet, too, but only because her older sister made her. Aunt Mist is really scary, and she doesn't like Ally at all. I think she made Ally take ballet just because Ally didn't want to, but I don't mind because I didn't want to do it alone. I guess I'm pretty insecure, too.
We're the same age, and Aunt Mist let us buy cakes even though we weren't allowed to throw a party for our birthday. Like I said before, Aunt Mist is really scary. Her husband, Wogan, would be scary too, but Ally says he's a wimp.
I aged up first, but Finale beat me to the dresser. I think she's very beautiful, but if I told her that she would kill me. Grandma says she's very pretty, and Aunt Mist said that she's the image of a younger Grandma. My aunt is always much nicer when Grandma is around, but she still gives Finale insane death glares.
I suppose Finale isn't insecure any more, because she chose a look that will definitely stand out. She's super artsy and rebellious, and the guys at school are always asking her out.
Me? I'm just . . . average. I don't look anything like my dad, Bronson, but I have Grandma Cassie's eyes. At least Aunt Mist doesn't hate me, but I'm pretty sure she just overlooks me. Like an insignificant little bug.
I chose to dress up as a knight--which I see now is pretty lame. I love to imagine that I'm a real knight, or some sort of hero. Someone who would stand up to his evil, terrifying aunt instead of cowering and rolling over.
Right now, Finale's biggest project is selling subscriptions to a magazine she and one of her other friends started. Her second biggest project is getting me a girlfriend. You'd think that one of her projects would be getting herself a boyfriend, but I guess she doesn't have to worry about that. I hope she'll find me a girlfriend who's as in love with me as Grandma's in love with her boyfriend. That's pretty unlikely--I'm not exactly lovable.
We snuck out while Grandma and Leo were . . . insert static here . . . to sell subscriptions for Finale and her friend. Their magazine, "Rebels and Pain," is a big hit at school but they want to make some money. So, we caught a taxi and hit the streets.
The taxi rolled across the bridge into the "rich" side of town, where my mom lives with her celebrity family. We stopped in front of the biggest, most expensive house on the street. Finale, clearly not daunted, stepped up to the intercom and pounded a few buttons.
"Come on, Matt, we have to hit the biggest celebrities in town! Go to the top and work your way down."
After several minutes of waiting in the snow, the gates opened and we were invited inside. The occupant of the house, celebrity Matthew Hamming, agreed to talk to us about the magazine and sent Finale in the house to try out the piano. She abandoned me to stutter my way through a conversation with the biggest celebrity in town.
* * * The telescope zoomed in on the teenage girl playing the piano. Mist brought her sharp teeth together in a soft growl, then smiled. The child posed no threat--and if she did, there were more than enough ways to take her down, legal or not.
She swiveled the telescope to focus on the boy--what was his name again? It hardly mattered. Mist knew introducing him to his father was a long shot, but there was a chance that learning his father's true identity would cause the boy to snap. And if Finale's best friend was broken, it would hurt her as well.
But, no--how could the idiot not realize this was his father? They were practically identical! Matthew hugged his son, who reacted with surprise but awkwardly patted him on the back.
Mist stepped away from the window, contemplating her options. She could easily take Finale down, but if the police caught up with her--her plans would shatter. Trying to get to her little sister through the friend hadn't worked so far. Of course, there were other--
Mist was left holding . . . it. She was furious. She had only needed one child, a colorful girl to further strengthen her claim on being heir, and instead this
thing had come out! It would need a name, she supposed . . . a good name, or Cassandra would suspect that Mist was more evil than suspected, and transfer the heirship to Finale. That threw "It" and "Garbage" out the window.
Grace Moonstone. The spare.
