Read Planet Middle School Online
Authors: Nikki Grimes
“Sorry I didn’t show up,”
I tell Jake
when I call that evening.
“Where were you?” he asks.
“I waited for almost an hour!”
“Sorry,” I repeat,
stalling until I can figure out
what to say.
I’m usually honest with Jake,
but this truth is just too lame.
“I was studying for a test,” I tell him.
“I guess I lost track of time.”
I’m holding my breath
but don’t even know it
until I hear him say,
“Yeah, well, don’t do it again.”
Back from another practice,
Caden and I find Mom
in the living room
thumbing through one of his
old drawing pads,
her crescent moon smile
lighting up her eyes.
“Hey! Where’d you find that?”
asks Caden,
snatching the pad
from Mom’s fingers.
“I thought it was lost.”
“I found it under the coffee table,”
she says.
“Bottom shelf.
Must’ve moved it there one day
when I was cleaning.
Which reminds me,” says Mom,
“I haven’t seen you
drawing in a while.
Why is that?”
Caden shrugs,
all the answer
he plans on giving.
Secretly,
I’m with Mom on this.
I miss Caden’s drawings.
I hate to see him give up
something he’s so good at
just to try to be
like me.
I stand in front of
Mom’s vanity
like most girls do at three,
splashing on perfume
and smearing blush
from cheek to ear.
And here I am,
snagging lipstick.
“Crimson Touch”
is a nice name.
I wipe it across my lips,
then dash out the door
before Mom can catch me.
Minutes later, I meet up with KeeLee
and we strut through the school hall,
me waiting for my chance
to impress Him.
I’m all smiles when I see Santiago,
which is when KeeLee starts
poking me. But I ignore her
’cause all I can think about
is Santiago, who
takes one look at me
and laughs out loud.
Not the reaction
I was hoping for.
KeeLee pokes me again.
“You’ve got lipstick
on your teeth, silly.
I tried to tell you.”
My hand flies to my mouth
too late.
I sprint to the girl’s room,
leave “Crimson Touch”
on wads of toilet paper,
suddenly realizing the color
looks just like blood.
Disgusting.
Can this day
get any worse?
Of course
the first person
I run into on my block
is Jake. “Dude! Your lip is bleeding.
No, wait.
It’s your whole mouth!”
The lipstick must have left
a stain on my lips.
I sigh and roll my eyes,
in no mood to explain.
“Hey, Jake.
What’s up?”
“You tell
me
,” he says
studying my lips.
“It’s lipstick,” I mumble.
Jake laughs.
“You gotta be kidding!”
I burn him with a stare.
“Sorry,” he says.
“I didn’t know
you were into that
sort of thing.”
I shrug.
“Just thought I’d give it a try.”
“O-
kay
,” says Jake.
“But why?”
“None of your business!” I say,
wanting to get off of the subject.
“Dang! Somebody’s in
a rotten mood today.
Later,” he says,
and jogs off
before I tell him
to leave me alone.
I need help with this makeup stuff.
KeeLee doesn’t know
much more than me.
Too bad I’m not
Cinderella.
A fairy godmother
would come in handy
right about now.
I slip out of my
sweaty gym clothes
and hit the showers.
Toweled off and half dressed,
I find my voice
before Glory has a chance
to leave.
“I like your makeup,” I say,
feeling silly.
“I mean, the colors are nice.”
“Thanks,” she says.
“I wish—”
My tongue stumbles.
“There’s this boy—
I mean—”
Why is my mouth
suddenly useless?
“I try to get him
to look at me, but—”
Thank God,
Glory steps in.
“You want a makeup tip?”
I nod. That seems safer
than speech.
“Keep it simple.
A little blush,
a little lip gloss.
That’s it. Okay?”
I nod again,
smiling, relieved.
Still feeling ridiculous, though,
but at least
Glory didn’t laugh.
Practice Does Not Make Perfect
Today
it’s layup shots
for Caden.
Of course,
he stinks at this.
One of these days,
I’m going to have to tell him so.
I just don’t know how.
Back home,
I sprint ahead,
take two stairs
at a time,
duck into the bathroom
and lock the door.
Just before I switch on
the shower,
Caden yells,
“Hey! How did I do today?”
I turn the water on
full blast.
“Sorry!” I yell back.
“I can’t hear you!”
I step from the shower,
catch sight of my wild mane
in the mirror.
Something makes me pause,
capture a damp curl in my fingers,
and pull.
Wonder what I’d look like
if I gave up my usual ponytail
for braids?
Some monstrous thing
crawled under my skin last night
while I was sleeping,
something hideous that left
a bulging bump on the middle
of my cheek.
This thing’s the size
of Kilimanjaro,
so it’s not like
I can hide it.
With my luck,
Santiago will notice me today,
and how exactly
am I supposed to
explain this thing away?
Today,
I push Caden into a game
with the neighborhood boys
so he can see
just how bad he is.
A half hour in
he’s swimming in sweat
from chasing up and down the court,
bruised from one too many
body blows
from playing guard,
mad from losing his grip
on the ball
each time he manages
to get his hand on it
for a second.
I shake my head
and yell, “Time!”
then pull him aside.
Give it up
is what I’m thinking.
Instead, I say,
“Go home, Caden.
Just—go home.”
He clenches his fist,
glares at me,
and stomps off the court.
The next day,
Caden shows up at my door,
stares silently for the longest.
“What?” I finally ask.
“I thought you got it, Joy.
I thought you understood
why I need to learn that game.”
I sigh, set aside
Bridge to Terabithia
,
and tell my little brother
what he doesn’t want to hear.
“You’re okay at sports, Caden,
but your heart’s just not in it
and that shows.”
Now it’s Caden’s turn to sigh.
“I know. I just thought—
since Dad—
you know.”
We both sit silent
till an idea comes to me.
“Hey! Dad’s birthday
is coming up soon.
Why not do a drawing for him?
You’re so good at that,” I say.
Caden rolls his eyes.
“No, seriously.
Do a portrait of him.
He’ll really look at it this time.
Trust me. He doesn’t want
to make Mom mad.”
“Maybe,” says Caden.
“I bet he’ll love it.
You could even do it from
one of his favorite photos.
Like that old one
when he was captain
of his basketball team.”
I can see Caden’s wheels
start to turn.
“You think so?”
I don’t answer.
I just smile.