Chirp: Chapters 8–15

“Maybe. If Gram doesn’t need help.” Mia hoped that Gram would need help. She didn’t think she’d be as good at sleuthing as the characters in Clover’s mysteries.

He smiled at Mia. “You know, I found out you were being humble when you said you didn’t play a sport. Your grandmother says you’re quite the gymnast.”

“Probably just molted,” Daniel said, “so it’ll be hiding out for a bit. When crickets shed their old exoskeletons, their bodies are soft for a little while, so they’re extra vulnerable. The other crickets know that and take the opportunity to come after them.”

“Probably just molted,” Daniel said, “so it’ll be hiding out for a bit. When crickets shed their old exoskeletons, their bodies are soft for a little while, so they’re extra vulnerable. The other crickets know that and take the opportunity to come after them.”

She couldn’t look away from that poor cowering cricket. “How long does it last?”

“Hurry up!” a gruff voice said. It didn’t sound like Daniel.

She tried to put the groceries away quietly so she could eavesdrop while Mom called Gram from the living room.

Gram always talked about how humane it was to harvest crickets.

After Mia changed her clothes, they drove to pick up Gram, who was surprisingly chipper, given her fruit-fly infestation.

“And now I’m famished from my journey.” He passed out sandwiches, sodas, and his famous Fourth of July pyrotechnic brownies, and everyone dug in.

The moose was fat and lopsided, with enormous antlers. It looked like it would be about as elegant as Mia had been the last time she was on a balance beam.

The moose was fat and lopsided, with enormous antlers. It looked like it would be about as elegant as Mia had been the last time she was on a balance beam.

It was only nine o’clock, but the market was bustling.

Her heart raced, and the momos churned in her stomach, but she took a deep breath and imagined herself pitching on Deal with the Sharks.

“We think your customers would love the novelty of a cricket chocolate treat,” Mia said, and pulled out one of Gram’s handouts.

“Any idea if other chocolate makers have tried this?” she asked. “I wonder if it would be best as a topping—like a cricket on top of a truffle—or something else.”

“No,” Dad said. “Grab me the colander, would you?” He dumped in the spaghetti, and steam rose around his face.

She and Clover and Anna worked together almost every day now. Anna had them helping to solder wires for the cricket robot.

But then Clover slid the permission slip in front of her face and tapped on the list of judging criteria. “Your cricket farm plan is actually a perfect fit for this. You should enter!”

“When I got my first job at a law firm, one of the partners was so dismissive of the women in the office. We’d get left out of meetings, and he’d make comments about our skirts and jokes about...well...jokes that were inappropriate.”