EllRay Jakes is a Rock Star! (2 page)

Maybe even kids here at Oak Glen Primary School.

I already know I could never win this contest, because college professors like my dad don't make a ton of money. Not to hear him tell it. Not compared to some people.

And people who want to write fantasy books for grown-ups make even less.

So how can I compete?

What do
I
have to brag about?

I have to
FIND SOMETHING!

“Psst,” Emma whispers later that day. “Are you done with the red marker?”

“Yeah,” I say gloomily, snapping the lid on and handing it over. I was drawing a huge ladybug with stingers and fangs, but whatever.

“Isn't this
so much fun
?” she asks.

Valentine's Day is a huge deal at Oak Glen Primary School—for the girls, anyway.

All the boys in school say they hate it, not counting the ones in kindergarten—but I think kindergarten boys only like Valentine's Day because of the treats.

In the third grade, it's different. But at least Valentine's Day is a change, because other than that, nothing interesting happens at school between Christmas vacation and spring break.

At our school, nobody worries about kids' feelings getting hurt because they didn't get enough valentines, which is the way it used to be in the olden days, my mom says. Our school has strict rules about giving people valentines.

1. If you send a valentine to one kid in your class, you have to send valentines to everyone. Even girls-to-girls and boys-to-boys, which is just embarrassing. But you can send funny ones if you want. Funny, but not too gross.

2. Also, the valentines can't have candy or glitter or confetti in them, because of the custodian's temper.

3. And you can't open your cards until the school day is almost over.

But getting ready for Valentine's Day is a pain, because I have to figure out what kind of valentines I am going to send—to the kids in my class, to Ms. Sanchez, and to my mom and my little sister.

Not to my dad, of course. That's just not us.

Alfie has already informed me that a card to her is
required
, and it had better be good.

We have been making valentines in class today, because Friday is art day. Ms. Sanchez is probably relieved that Valentine's Day is coming, because she can never figure out what to do when we have art. She gloms on to any theme she can: Thanksgiving, President's Day, Arbor Day, you name it. We cover all the Days.

Today is the last Friday we have to work on our cards, though, because like I said, Valentine's Day is in exactly one week.

“I'm making mine all the same, so I'll finish first. I'll win,” Stanley tells us. He has a stack of folded construction paper pieces in front of him, and he is scrawling a heart on the outside of each one with a black marker, and a question mark on the inside. He's like a cartoon guy working in a factory, he's going so fast.

By the way, the question mark is supposed to stand for “Guess who?” That's a good way to get around actually signing your name on a valentine.

Just a hint!

“It's not a contest,
Stanley
,” Annie Pat Masterson says, drawing the world's fanciest seahorse on one of her cards. Annie Pat is Emma's best friend, and she always fixes her red hair in two pigtails that look like highway warning cones.

“Yeah,” Emma says.

“I think everything's a contest,” Cynthia ar- gues, not looking up from the card she is working on. “The clothes you wear, how cute your hair is, what you bring for lunch, how late you get to stay up, what your grades are. Only it's different contests for different people. Like, today, my valentines are in the
cute
contest, and I'm winning.”

And she draws another unicorn.

Ms. Sanchez is at the end of the table showing Kry how to fold a piece of paper to cut out a perfect heart, so she doesn't hear what Cynthia is saying.

Beside Cynthia, Fiona nods to show how much she agrees with her.

The boys are just listening, because drawing is hard enough, isn't it? You can't talk at the same time.

Well, Stanley can, but look

at his valentines.

Kevin is drawing UFOs, and Corey is drawing Christmas trees, because that's what he learned how to do almost perfectly last December.

But he's putting hearts on them.

“That doesn't make any sense,” Emma tells Cynthia. “Because how do you know who else is in the same contest as you?”

“You just know, that's all,” Cynthia tells her, smiling in a superior way. “At least I do. I know when I'm winning. Like now,” she adds, looking at the valentine Emma is working on as if someone just blew their nose on it.

“Yours is good, Emma,” Annie Pat says, defending her friend's drawing of a frog sitting on a lily pad. Or a green meatball with eyes, sitting on a plate. “It's
cute
. Here,” she adds. “Use my pink marker. It smells like cherries.”

“I'll take that,” Cynthia says, snatching the pink marker from Annie Pat's hand in mid-air. “I need it first. Ahhh,” she says, sniffing in the cherry smell like she wants to use it all up.

“That's okay,” Emma says to Annie Pat, whose dark blue eyes are looking angry. Annie Pat is quiet, but she can be dangerous. “I don't even need pink for a frog,” Emma says. “And look,” she adds in a whisper, jerking her head toward Cynthia, who is snuffling the marker again.

There is a bright pink dot on the end of Cynthia's stuck-up nose, where she sniffed the marker too close.

It looks like a great big measle!