Girls Acting Catty (8 page)

“Ms. Stevens?”

I heard someone call my name and looked around. Tobias sat to my left and Oliver to my right. Oh yeah. Class had begun and I was supposed to be paying attention.

“Yes?” I asked.

“Did you do last night's homework?” asked Ms.

Roberts.

Uh-oh. Homework? Sure. Of course I did, because I always do my homework. It's just, well, it'd probably help if I actually remembered what that homework was and where I'd put it.

I nodded. “Yes, I did.”

“Then please answer the question,” said Ms. Roberts.

Question? She'd asked me a question?

“Whenever you're ready. I'll wait.” Ms. Roberts sat on the edge of her desk and crossed her arms over her chest.

Some of my classmates giggled and for once, I didn't blame them.

I looked around frantically. Yes, we were in science, but that was about all I could remember. My notebook wasn't even open.

Tobias smirked at me, but Oliver was kind enough to tell me what was going on. “She asked you to define
microorganism
,” he whispered.

Oh, right. Now I remembered. I'd looked up all ten of the new vocabulary words last night. Right before I'd walked in on Jason. I rifled through my backpack in search of my list and realized I'd left my entire science folder in my locker. Rats! I looked up, panicked.

Oliver slid his notebook over and pointed to the middle of the page, where he'd defined the word.

I had to squint to make out his messy writing but wasn't about to complain. I took a deep breath. “A microorganism is a living organism that can only be seen with a microscope,” I read. “Because it's too small to be seen with the naked boy.”

Suddenly the entire class burst out in laughter. Except for Ms. Roberts, who stared at me unkindly.

“What?” I asked, looking from Oliver to Tobias. Their faces were red and their eyes squinty. Tobias laughed so hard his whole body shook. At least Oliver had the decency to try and stay calm. Although I did notice tears of laughter forming in the corners of his eyes.

What's going on? I wondered as I looked down at the definition and scanned it again. I didn't know— wait a second. I didn't say. No, I couldn't have. I didn't. But, yes, I did.

“Naked eye. I mean naked eye!” I yelled.

But that just made everyone laugh harder.

“So sorry,” I said to Ms. Roberts.

She just shook her head and said, “That's enough. Time to settle down.”

“Nice going, Spazzers,” said Tobias.

“Oliver's writing is impossible to read,” I said.

“Or maybe you've got other things on your mind.” Tobias raised his eyebrows.

“Don't be gross,” I said.

“You're the one who said ‘naked boy,' ” Tobias reminded me.

Yeah, like I'd ever forget!

Jason picked me up after school that day, and he showed up in the coolest car I'd ever seen: a blue MINI Cooper with white racing stripes. It was a convertible and the top was down. He looked as cute as ever with hoop earrings, dark sunglasses, and a blue bandana to hold back his hair.

When Jason noticed me, he honked and waved.

“Who's that?” asked Rachel, who happened to be standing next to me.

“Oh, that's Jason,” I said. “Dweeble's son.”

“
That's
mini-Dweeb?” Rachel propped her sunglasses on top of her head, so she could get a better look. “He's so cute.”

“You think?” I asked, even though I knew he was.

“
Way
too cute to call mini-Dweeb.”

“Um, I guess so.”

I said bye to Rachel and hurried over to the car. “Hey.” I slid into the passenger seat and slammed the door behind me, hoping Jason couldn't see me blush.

“Hey, Anna Banana.” He'd started calling me that yesterday. My mom used to but I made her stop three years ago because it sounded silly. Babyish, too. Also, I don't like bananas because they're mushy and they smell funny. Still, when Jason called me that, I liked it. “How was school?”

I shrugged. “Okay, I guess.” I sat with my backpack on my lap, and crossed one leg over the other. Since it looked a little weird, I uncrossed my legs. Then I crossed them again but at my ankles. My backpack was on my lap and I thought about throwing it in the backseat, but I'd already moved around so much. I didn't want to appear too squirmy.

“I didn't know you had a car,” I said, running my hand along the smooth leather interior— then stopping because I didn't want him to see me petting the passenger seat.

“I don't,” said Jason. “It's my mom's, but she's letting me use it while I'm in town. She has another car, so she doesn't really need it.”

“Oh.” I didn't know much about Jason's mom. Just that she and Dweeble got divorced when Jason was ten. Also, she was a real estate broker, and married to some other real estate broker.

Jason turned up the radio, and I was glad we wouldn't have to talk. Even though I desperately wanted to talk to him, I couldn't think of one thing to say. The ride home seemed extra long, but at the same time, way too short.

As soon as we walked into the house Pepper raced over. But instead of jumping on me, he jumped on Jason, who bent down and scratched him behind his ears.

“That's his favorite spot,” I said.

“I think that's all dogs' favorite spot,” said Jason.

Great. Way to state the obvious.

“Hey, guess what we did today,” Jason said.

“Who?”

“Me and Pepper.”

He waited for me to guess, but I hate doing that. “Just tell me,” I said.

“Oh, I'll do better than that. I'll show you.” Jason looked down at the dog and said, “Pepper, sit.”

And Pepper sat, obediently, like he always does.

“He already knew how to do that,” I said.

“Yo, man, will you chill for half a second? I'm not done yet.”

When Jason laughed, his eyes crinkled in the corners. I glanced at Pepper to keep from staring.

Next Jason had Pepper lie down. Then he said, “Roll over!”

“He doesn't know how to—” I stopped mid-sentence, and watched in awe as Pepper rolled over, like he was some kind of show dog.

As soon as he was right side up again, he stared at Jason, looking very pleased with himself.

Jason pulled a biscuit out of his pocket and gave it to him.

“I can't believe you got him to roll over. That's the hardest trick there is.”

“I've got a lot of free time on my hands,” Jason said, smiling all bashfully. “It's no big deal.”

But it was.

“Let's see it again,” I said, wondering if maybe Jason had beginner's luck.

This time Jason didn't even have to make him sit first. As soon as he gave the command, Pepper rolled over.

“Good boy,” Jason said, and fed him another biscuit. “Want to try?”

He offered me a biscuit.

“Um . . .” I stalled. I wanted to try. I really, really wanted to, but I figured that the more time I spent with Jason, the more likely I was to humiliate myself— again. So I said, “Sorry. Too much homework,” and raced upstairs—stumbling on the first step.

“You okay?” asked Jason.

“Fine,” I called, scrambling to my room and slamming the door behind me.

I pulled my social studies book out of my backpack and opened it up, but couldn't focus. I had all this nervous pent-up energy and couldn't sit still.

It's because I had the strangest feeling, like I was forgetting something, or something was missing. Soon I realized that
someone
was missing. My dog.

Usually Pepper followed me around the house. He slept at my feet. And whenever I went upstairs to do homework, he hung out in my room, staring out the window or just napping on my bed. But tonight he was nowhere to be seen.

I closed my notebook, tiptoed downstairs, and peeked into the living room. Jason was watching TV on the couch. And Pepper was stretched out right below him, with his head resting on Jason's foot.

This was nuts! Pepper used to love me the best, but now he had a new favorite person. And the craziest thing about it was, I couldn't even blame him.

chapter eight
going nowhere

W
hen I got to our table at lunch the next day, I found everyone huddled around Emma.

“It finally happened,” she told us.

“Yes!” Yumi pumped her fist in the air.

Rachel clapped baby claps.

“Shh! Be cool,” said Yumi.

“What's going on?” I asked.

Claire leaned close and explained. “Emma is going out with Joe, the Corn Dog Boy.” She sounded like a spy revealing top secret information.

The Corn Dog Boys share our table during lunch, not because we choose to sit near them, but just because that's how it worked out. Basically, they're four sixth-grade boys. They usually don't bug us, but sometimes they try and hog the whole table, or throw food at each other, or burp to the tune of “The Star-Spangled Banner,” which is way annoying. Oh— and last month they had a corn-dog-eating contest, which is how they got their name. Except I don't think they actually know we call them that.

“Wow!” I said.

“Pretty crazy, huh?” asked Rachel.

“Totally,” I said. But to be honest, I wasn't entirely sure what “going out” meant. Like, where were they going? I knew better than to ask, though. Instead I chalked it up to just one more mysterious thing about going to school with boys.

I sat down, pulled out my turkey and Swiss cheese sandwich, and listened carefully. It didn't take long to catch on. “Going out” meant that Emma and Joe were boyfriend and girlfriend.

I could hardly believe that one of my friends actually had a boyfriend. I was impressed because it seemed so grown up and cool. But then I wondered, did this mean everything would change?

So far it was too soon to tell. Everyone just ate lunch, as usual. Emma sat at one end of the table, and Joe sat at the opposite end, and they didn't even look at each other.

The Corn Dog Boys wolfed down their food fast, as usual, and then went off to play Frisbee in the quad before next period.

Once they were gone, everyone huddled around Emma. “So how did it happen?” Claire asked.

“Well,” said Emma. “We sit next to each other in math, and my locker is right above his locker, and we always kind of smile at each other, and I've thought he was really cute since day one. He's got the most adorable smile, don't you think?”

Everyone nodded. I did too, even though I wasn't sure I'd ever seen Joe smile. I'd seen him stuff his face with chips on a daily basis, and he was a champion belcher. But smile? I couldn't recall.

Emma paused to eat a pretzel stick and then continued. “Except he had another girlfriend until last week.”

“He did?” I asked.

“Sure, he was going out with Jesse,” Rachel told me. “You know, one of the Three Terrors.”

I nodded, glancing toward Taylor's table and wondering how I missed this. Jesse was the fourth girl in Taylor's crowd. Not Hannah, of course, and not the one with dark curly hair and braces with purple rubber bands. That was Nikki. Jesse had long, straight brown hair with chunky white-blond streaks. Usually she wore her hair in a high ponytail. Even though she was tiny, shorter than me, even, we called her Jesse the Jolly Green Giant, because she wore something green every single day. Seriously—like she was always celebrating St. Patrick's Day. No one knew why, and she wasn't even Irish. The weirdest thing about her, though, was that she always ate green food, too: seaweed salad, lime Jell-O, or long stalks of celery.

Emma went on. “Anyway, I never knew if he liked me, so I finally asked Yumi to ask Phil.”

I'd never heard of any boy named Phil. “Is he one of the Corn Dog Boys?” I asked, peeking toward the boy side of our table.

“No, he and Joe are in Spanish with Yumi,” Claire said.

“He's got scruffy dark hair and an earring,” said Rachel.

“Oh, okay.” I nodded, still a bit unsure of who he was, but hoping it wouldn't matter.

Yumi cut in. “So I asked Phil after school. His baseball team practices next to my softball field, so we see each other all the time. Anyway, Phil said he didn't know, but then the next day, I got this note.”

Emma dug around in her backpack and pulled out a piece of paper. It was folded into a tiny triangle, like a miniature football. She wiped the tabletop in front of her with her lunch sack, then unfolded and smoothed out the page.

Hey Emma— Wanna go out? Sincerely, Joe.
P.S.: Did you do the math homework? What did
you get for number 7?
(Joe, again.)

His handwriting was tiny and boxlike. Even though the entire note was only three lines long, he'd used a whole sheet of paper.

“It's so romantic,” Rachel said.

I studied the note carefully, in search of the romantic part. I wasn't positive, but maybe it had something to do with the fact that he used a red pen?