BY MICHAEL BUCKLEY
The Sisters Grimm
Book One: The Fairy-Tale Detectives
Book Two: The Unusual Suspects
Book Three: The Problem Child
Book Four: Once Upon a Crime
Book Five: Magic and Other Misdemeanors
Book Six: Tales from the Hood
Book Seven: The Everafter War
Book Eight: The Inside Story
Book Nine: The Council of Mirrors
A Very Grimm Guide
NERDS
Book One: National Espionage, Rescue, and Defense Society
Book Two: M Is for Mama’s Boy
Book Three: The Cheerleaders of Doom
Book Four: The Villain Virus
Book Five: Attack of the BULLIES
PUBLISHER’S NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cataloging-in-Publication Data has been applied for and may be obtained from the Library of Congress.
ISBN: 978-1-4197-0024-8
Text copyright © 2011 Michael Buckley
Illustrations copyright © 2011 Ethen Beavers
Book design by Chad W. Beckerman
Published in 2011 by Amulet Books, an imprint of ABRAMS. All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, mechanical, electronic, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the publisher. Amulet Books and Amulet Paperbacks are registered trademarks of Harry N. Abrams, Inc.
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For Abigail Contessa
and her very cool
mom, Molly Choi
Twelve-year-old Gerdie Baker frowned at her reflection in her bedroom mirror. She had long and lumpy limbs; huge, Hobbit-like feet; hair like a tumbleweed in an old cowboy movie; and an unfortunate under-bite that made her look like a caveman. She was a mess, which led her to one undeniable conclusion: She must be a Bigfoot. Like Bigfoots, she lumbered when she walked. Like Bigfoots, she scared small animals. Like Bigfoots, she grunted when she ate.
Since her parents weren’t Bigfoots, she concluded that she must have been discovered in the wilds and transplanted to the suburbs of Akron, Ohio, for study. It was the only reasonable explanation.
To prove her theory she had done a few simple calculations:
• There was a 40% chance that her family had found her on a camping trip, shaved her down, and taught her to speak.
• There was a 35% chance that she was part of an experiment by the Department of Fish and Wildlife in hopes of integrating Bigfoots into modern society.
• There was a 23% chance that from a cage in a traveling sideshow.
• And then, there was the teeny-tiny 2% chance that she wasn’t a missing link at all but a twelve-year-old girl suffering through a very awkward period. This 2% was only on the list because Bigfoots are not known for their math skills, and so the fact that she could construct these possibilities left a hole in her theory.
She was devising a new list of theories on why a Bigfoot might know calculus when she heard a loud squeal coming through her open bedroom window. Gerdie walked over and looked outside into the backyard. There she saw cake, balloons, a deejay, streamers, punch, a karaoke machine, and two dozen pretty girls in cheerleading outfits having the time of their lives. Her birthday party was obnoxious.
Her mother had gone all out this year for Gerdie and her sisters, Linda and Luanne—otherwise known as the Baker Triplets. But Gerdie could not bring herself to go down and join the fun. Just because she shared their DNA (as her mother claimed) didn’t mean she was one of them. Linda, Luanne, and their friends were all gorgeous, like they had stepped out of a fashion magazine. “Gruesome Gerdie” looked like she had crawled out of Field and Stream. Her mind couldn’t help but calculate what would happen if she were to show her face at the party.
• There was a 54% chance that the girls would laugh at her.
• A 29% chance that they would stare at her like she was from another planet.
• A 10% chance that someone would scream and/or faint and/or vomit.
• And a 7% chance that someone would call Animal Control and have her shot with a tranquilizer dart.
Nope. She didn’t belong down there … yet. But soon, very soon, she would be one of the pretty ones. She, too, would be the center of attention. You see, Gerdie Baker had plans. Which was probably further evidence that she was not really a Bigfoot. Bigfoots don’t spend a lot of time thinking about the future. She would have to increase the 2% to 3%
She sat down on her bed, snatched a notebook off her nightstand, and opened it to a math problem. This one was more complicated than anything she had ever attempted. It stretched out over dozens of pages, x’s and y’s holding on to pluses and minuses like life preservers in a murky sea. Soon, she would fish them out and unlock their mysteries and her miserable life would change forever. If only she still had her—
There was a knock at the door.
“Leave me alone. I don’t want any cake,” Gerdie shouted.
But the knock came again.
Setting down her notebook, she crossed the room and threw open the door. There was no one there. She craned her neck into the hallway, but it was empty. She glanced down and saw an envelope on the floor. It was addressed to her. She scooped it up.
Inside was a note that read, There are presents for you downstairs.
Gerdie sighed. She might as well go down, get the presents, and get it over with.
In the backyard a sea of surprised girls stared at her. The 29% had been correct. She could almost hear the confusion in their minds as the guests tried to understand how she could be related to Linda and Luanne. Maybe coming downstairs hadn’t been a good idea.
“Have some cake, Gertrude,” her mother said as she approached with Gerdie’s sisters in tow.
Gerdie eyed the birthday cake. It was shaped like a megaphone—the kind cheerleaders use at football games. It read, Happy Birthday, Luanne, Linda, and G.
“G?”
Gerdie’s mom looked defensive. “Honey, Gertrude is a long name. There’s only so much cake! Where are all the friends you invited?”
“She doesn’t have any friends to invite.” Linda laughed.