Operation Sisterhood

So it really was a dark and stormy night, and it figured, thought Bo. Of course it was a dark and stormy night. Of course it was.
Okay, so it wasn’t actually night, technically. It was afternoon, and Bo sat on her bed, looking through the iron child-safety bars of her bedroom window, listening to the rain thunking against the metal fire escape outside. Still, dark and stormy afternoon was close enough. And on the same day that her teacher had made the whole class enter an annoying writing contest where the prize went to the worst writing possible. School was almost over, and instead of just letting Bo hang out in the band room with the monster drum set, Ms. Phillip expected her “to spend the time productively.” On a writing contest that didn’t matter. What sense did that make? Ms. Phillip said the contest was inspired by some guy who’d started his book with “It was a dark and stormy night,” which apparently was the worst writing ever, even if it didn’t seem so bad to Bo. Certainly not as bad as spending an ENTIRE PERIOD trying YOUR BEST to write YOUR WORST. At SCHOOL. She was sure Mary Church Terrell would not be happy to have her name on a school that did things like that. And she was sure because she’d won the award for the best Mary Church Terrell speech last year. She’d always had the best teachers she made cards and cookies for them every winter break. Until Ms. Phillip. She was the kind of teacher who kept changing due dates after you already turned the assignment in. Bo had just given her a card she bought at CVS-and she’d signed it “Best,” which Mum had told her was petty-polite. Still, Mum had let it slide. She was cool like that, like a swing cymbal beat.
Thunder clapped, and Bo jumped. She heard her mum laugh down the hall. Bill must be telling one of his corny jokes again. Since neither of them had normal jobs, Bill and her mum had developed an afternoon tea routine that Bo had to admit was pretty cute. When he’d arrived today, shaking his wet umbrella all over the floor, he’d said, “If anyone needs an ark, I happen to NOAH guy!” and Mum had actually for-real laughed! Bo had laughed too, mostly because it was such a bad joke that you couldn’t do any thing else. And because she liked Bill and his corny jokes. And because he’d winked at her; he’d known it was bad, but he’d said it anyway, and there was something good about that. Bo liked Bill a lot. But now that he had his own key to their apartment and felt comfortable enough to be shaking his umbrella all over the place… it made Bo a tiny bit itchy.