Disclaimer: Characters do not belong to me.

Chapter 1: The Phone Call

Gilda slurped her juice while staring at her blushing best friend, Wendy Choy. She was currently trying to figure out why Wendy was acting differently and was getting nowhere. Gilda had subconsciously noticed that something was different with Wendy ever since she returned from her trip to St. Augustine, Florida but there wasn't a drastic change and as a result, Gilda dismissed her thoughts about her best friend. But today Wendy's behavior was definitely out of character: secretive, snappy, and sarcastic. Now, Gilda was determined to find out why Wendy was acting the way she was.

They had been in the middle of dealing with Gilda's clothing catastrophe earlier – her closet exploded – when Wendy's phone rang. It was a normal occurrence until Wendy said she needed to answer the call outside. Outside. Wendy had never left to answer her phone; they were best friends and best friends didn't keep secrets from each other, that is until now. It was quite suspicious. Gilda didn't know what to think at first. She paced her bedroom for a few seconds. But the pacing bothered her. Why was Wendy taking so long? So she sat on her bed and tried to think about why Wendy would suddenly be so secretive. There weren't many reference points for Gilda; Wendy was usually quite honest. Hmmm, Gilda wondered. Maybe it's a family emergency thing. But the conjecture seemed wrong. Before she could debate the probability of the "family emergency", Wendy had reappeared in her room.

Gilda had jumped off her bed and looked at Wendy with her hands on her hips. "Who was that?"

Wendy's cheeks turned a light pink color as she replied, "My mom. She wanted to tell me something about piano stuff. It was nothing".

Gilda tapped her foot and chewed on her twisty straw. "But I like piano stuff. I'm an excellent page turner."

Wendy smirked. "No you're not. Besides it's my business."

Gilda snorted. "You weren't so honest before."

"I was! My mom called."

"I don't believe you."

Wendy shrugged. "Fine, I don't need you to believe me."

"I would believe you if you weren't so pink in the face."

"Do you want to fix your closet or not? I'm not one of your cases, Gilda."

Gilda sighed. Interrogating Wendy would have to wait until all her costumes were back in her closet. Her mother would have a fit if she left her room in such a state, with short skirts on the radiator, multicolored scarves on the window ledge, vintage dresses on the floor, pumps on the bed, and an assortment of wigs on the girls' heads.

"Fine."

After Wendy left, Gilda went to the kitchen to eat some snacks. Her quasi-fight with Wendy had worried her and naturally, the secret stash of cookies in the cabinet beckoned her. As Gilda sat in the kitchen eating cookies, she pondered the incident. She had called Wendy to help with her closet fiasco, Wendy came – after Gilda promised that they would do "something useful" after – and then after an afternoon of trying on Gilda's costumes, Wendy left to answer her phone; which wasn't a good sign. The last time someone acted secretively around me was Mom, when she was engaged to a crazy person! Wendy's definitely not engaged; between her piano lessons, advanced math classes, and babysitting jobs, Wendy did not have time to be engaged.

Something big was up and if her best friend wouldn't share, then Gilda had the right to find out. Right? She wondered. Right. Gilda nodded her head. Besides she was too curious to let it go. Although she didn't feel the usual tickle in her left ear before a psychic case, Gilda felt something in her gut. It could have been a sign of a full belly or it could have been a sign of her experience in the dectective field. Gilda decided to go with the latter. So it was during the spring of Gilda's sophomore year – while she was chomping down store brought chocolate chip cookies – that Gilda decided to make her best friend one of her cases.

Dear Dad:

I'm having a problem. Don't worry it's not another "Mom's secretly engaged again" problem. Sorry, not funny. Anyways, the problem is Wendy. She's been acting weirdly ever since I got back from the catastrophe that was Mom's almost wedding! Okay, let's not talk about that incident again. Anyways, I noticed that she's been acting strangely ever since I got back, but I thought she was just happy to see me alive and not trapped underground. Sorry, Dad. But today she did something big, huge! She left to answer a phone call! Let me just say that Wendy has never done that before. Ever. And she lied to me when I asked who called her. What I'm saying is I'm opening a case into Wendy's weird behavior. Is it wrong to spy on a friend? I'm just hurt that Wendy is hiding things from me.

"Gilda!" a voice yelled from downstairs. "Mom's on the phone!"

Hmm. It sounded like Stephen. I'd better get downstairs before he starts complaining about lost time away from his homework.

"Coming, Stephen!" Gilda quickly placed her letter in the usual place and ran down the stairs to answer the phone.

"Hi, Mom?" Gilda nodded and stuck her tongue out her brother, who was leaning by the wall.

"Can't Stephan do it? I've been working all day!" After a few "uh-huhs" and nods, Gilda hung up and handed the phone back to Stephen.

"Put this back Stephen dear." He rolled his eyes.

"As long as you heat up the meatloaf."

"I can't. I'm busy working." Gilda waggled her eyebrows suggestively. "It's a top secret case."

Stephen groaned and muttered something about womens' work. Gilda smiled and ran back upstairs to her room. She didn't really want to start the case yet; her high school was currently on spring break and that meant procrastinating on all work matters. Maybe she should snoop around in Stephen's room. Just as Gilda was donning on her black boots and tights, the oven rang. Well it seemed like snooping would have to wait.

That evening, after dinner, Gilda took out her typewriter and began to type.

The Wendy Case –Gilda Joyce, bad best friend

Gilda shook her head and crossed out her description, the part she wrote when a voice in her head told her to talk to Wendy, rather than spy on her. Butt out! She would have to be brave and ignore her damned conscience.

The Wendy Case –Gilda Joyce, worried best friend

1. She's been smiling a lot lately. (She's usually too stressed to smile.)

2. She doesn't pay attention to me sometimes and seems to have her head in the clouds.

3. She lied to me.

There. Part One of "Ways to Lose Your Best Friend" is done. Gilda sighed. There was no other way. She would have to use her talents for evil. Not really. She snuggled into her blankets and fell asleep.