Read Planet Middle School Online
Authors: Nikki Grimes
Over dinner,
Mom and Dad
slip into their usual ritual
discussing the day
and Mom casually mentions
“Joy and I went
bra shopping.”
I grab a napkin
to cough into
and slide down
in my seat.
“Good,” says my bratty brother.
“Maybe now she’ll stop
stealing my undershirts.”
That does it.
I bolt from the table
and make my getaway.
I’ve had more than enough
embarrassment
for one day.
Three hours later,
I’m still chasing sleep.
My stomach growls at me
as if I’m the one to blame
for skipping dinner.
It’s all Mom’s fault, and Caden’s!
I complain into my pillow,
which gets me nowhere
so I sneak into the kitchen
for a late-night snack.
Don’t ask me
what’s up with KeeLee
all of a sudden.
I haven’t got a clue.
Today we’re walking
to Spanish,
and she puts a finger
to her lips,
warning me to shush.
Next thing I know,
John Taylor passes by
(He’s in the
ninth grade
!)
flaming red hair
bouncing off his shoulders.
KeeLee flips his curls
quick, so he won’t notice,
then bites her lip
to keep from laughing
out loud.
What is
with
her?
“You never used to care about
some boy’s stupid hair,” I tell her.
“Whatever,” she says.
“People change.”
I shake my head, thinking,
Not me.
End of the day,
I lay my head
on my desk,
faking the migraine
I’m certain
is on its way.
Imaginary numbers?
Come on!
Who dreams up this stuff?
It’s enough to make
anybody ill.
I practically scream for joy
when the bell rings.
Homework done
I run out for some air,
handball resting in my palm.
I slam the thing
against the brownstone wall
while Caden studies me
through the window the way
he sometimes does,
his hand a busy bird
flying across a page
of his drawing pad.
Back inside,
I breathe heavy over
Caden’s shoulder.
The action pose he’s drawn of me
nearly leaps in the air.
I tell him so
and watch my words
paint a smile on his face.
Then I go and spoil it.
“You should show that to Dad.”
Caden stares at me
like I’ve grown two heads
and I can’t blame him.
“Well, show it to Mom, anyway.”
He nods and I leave the room
before I manage to say
something else stupid.
It’s a wonder
my brother hasn’t completely given up
on showing Dad his drawings.
One time, all Caden got was
“Too bad you can’t
go out for a sport
like your sister,
instead of wasting your time
doodling.”
Ouch.
It’s not often
Mom raises her voice,
but that night,
her words beat their way
through the bedroom wall.
“If you’re not careful with Caden,
you’re going to lose that boy!”
she tells my dad.
“And you won’t have
anyone to blame
but yourself.”
All I hear from Dad
is a grunt.
I burrow deeper
under my covers
praying that Caden
is already asleep.
The very next day, Caden
begs me for basketball lessons,
just him and me.
He says he’d be too embarrassed
around Jake
or other guys.
Anyway, all he wants,
he says,
is a few tips on
how to make the backboard squeal,
how to make Dad take notice.
The next days bounce by
fast as God can dribble them.
I race to keep up:
Caden’s lessons, games with Jake,
visits with KeeLee—and school!
I wake up in the middle of the night
crazy for a piece of chocolate
as if my life depends on it.
I feel under my pillow
like there’s some secret stash
I should know about,
then roll over
and finally go back to sleep.
First thing in the morning,
stomach pains send me
to the bathroom
where I discover
that some things change inside you
whether you want them to
or not.
I lie in bed
curled in a ball tight enough
to stuff through a hoop.
“No playing for me today,”
I whisper to Michael Jordan
staring at me from a poster
on my wall.
Another colossal cramp
shoots through me
and I’m thinking:
Boys have it easy.
Feeling better,
it’s back to school.
The morning flies by
and soon, it’s time for lunch.
The line goes on forever.
“Hey, Joy.”
It’s KeeLee, three inches taller
than yesterday.
“Heels, KeeLee?”
I know my friend’s
in there somewhere
behind the lip gloss
and wanna-be stilettos.
KeeLee shrugs.
“I just thought I’d give them a try.
I’ll probably go back to flats tomorrow.”
I decide to study shoes,
see how many other
three-inch heels I can count.
One. Two. Five.
Without planning to,
I find my eyes traveling
up a pair of calves
attached to a cute boy with
chocolate brown skin
in shorts and a tight tee
clinging to—
“Quit it!” I tell myself.
My stomach growls
loud enough for others to hear
and for once, I don’t care.
The distraction is exactly
what I need.
A handful of words
shot into cyberspace
explode into smiles:
“KeeLee, I made the team!”
“Joy, I made the choir!”
Dad claps Caden
on the back.
An Etch A Sketch
of momentary joy
spreads across his face.
My brother’s too happy
to calculate
the why of Dad’s attention.
“Did you hear
the good news, son?”
asks Dad.
“Your sister here made the team!”
And just like that
my brother’s smile
disappears.
I bite my lip
to keep from telling Dad
he’s clueless.
Instead, I grab Caden’s hand
and drag him to the kitchen
to help me set the table,
anything to distract him
for a minute.
But I throw Dad
the dirtiest look
I can manage.
It’s what Mom calls
the Evil Eye.
Sometimes I feel
like slave labor
forced to run errands
whenever my mother gets a whim.
“Say!” says Mom. “I think I’ll make
buckwheat pancakes with bananas.
Doesn’t that sound great?
We’re a little low on syrup though,
and I could use an extra banana.
Joylin?”
Next thing I know,
I’m slouching down
a supermarket aisle
like I got nothing better to do.
I growl at the list
that grew to ten items
by the time I hit the door.
I’m grumbling about
the unfairness of life
when this cute guy reaches around me
and grabs a plum tomato.
“Excuse me,” he says
as if he needs to apologize
for being fine
and popping into my life
long enough for me to get close
to his sweet-smelling beautifulness.
He continues down the aisle
I just left behind
and my head swivels
so I can go on staring.
There I am, grinning, when
bang—
I crash my cart into
this nice old lady
since I wasn’t watching
where I was going.
“Sorry. Sorry,” I say
turning three shades of purple.
I close my eyes and count to ten.
“Okay,” I say to myself.
“What am I looking for again?
Oh, yeah.
Bananas.”