Authors: Lesley Downie
I SAID WHAT?
As soon as Evan and I got to the street in front of the mayor's mansion, we saw the last bus for town disappearing around the corner. So instead, we sneaked onto the one being used for the historical tour the mayor had told me about. I held my breath to see if anybody would notice us, but they all seemed too busy gossiping about the mayor's lip implants or something equally gross. It was good we kept quiet because there were thirty or forty sets of ears surrounding us and I'm sure the whole town would know by morning what we'd found.
I was glad Hansel and Gretel were locked up because they were going nuts, barking and jumping at the tall fence running along the left side of the house. They'd been in the mansion the other night until the governor tripped over one of them. I'm not big on large guard dogs. Not that I couldn't hypnotize them with my super human pet hypnosis if I needed to. Okay, so maybe I'm not Cesar Millan, but I've watched his show. I'm sure I could pull it off.
Finally the bus took off and it didn't take long to reach the four holy corners where freak-man likes to hang out. The bus stopped and we got off and headed home in different directions. It was already past four o'clock and I still needed to shower and get the grime off me for tonight. Lots of flossing, scrubbing, and brushing needed to happen before I'd let David see me. This meant we had to say a quick goodbye with a promise to talk later about what we'd found.
"I'm home," I yelled as I walked into the house. I was worried because it was five o'clock. Hopefully I hadn't missed David's call. The battery on my cell phone had died, so there's no way he could have reached me on it. Plus, there's probably no cell reception in the tunnels.
No one answered but I knew Mom and Dad were home. Dad was working on his old Ford Fairlaine in the garage (lots of engine revving going on), and Mom's car was parked under the big oak in front of the house. Demon boy was glued to the TV, video game controller in hand.
"Where's Mom?" I asked, figuring she was probably upstairs putting together an evil new menu plan. Of course he didn't answer. He was busy nuking some zombie. The General didn't allow any games where actual people were killed. But Sam never gave upâthe latest version of
Blow Up the Enemy
was on his birthday list every year.
Strolling out to the kitchen, I went over to the pink While-You-Were-Out pad to see if there were any messages for me. Yes, we actually have one of those. Leftover from when Mom was going through her selling-cosmetics-at-home phase. Did you know they actually have parties to try to get people to buy that stuff? In my opinion, the only good thing about those parties was the leftover treatsâMom so didn't make her customers eat stuff like Veggie Delight or edamame (ew).
But no messages and no red light blinking on the answering machine. Weird. David was supposed to call at four about tonight. Should I call him? Maybe not. Could be he's just running late. I needed to get in the shower ASAP anyway.
When I got to the top of the stairs, I could hear Mom's weird yoga flute music coming from my parent's bedroom. I knew she was totally doing downward dog right now, so I didn't knock on her door. Once in my room, I plugged my phone into its charger and grabbed my robe.
I must have been in the shower for a half hour before I made myself get out. Not sure if a shower has ever felt so good, the hot water like magic fingers on my muscles. It's surprising the Water Nazi (aka the General) hadn't banged on the door, because water rationing was one of her latest causes. One day I expect to come home from school to find the front yard stripped of all the green, with cacti and other desert flowers planted in some weird design. The General's all about design.
After drying off, I noticed there still weren't any messages on my phone, so I decided to finally give him a call. I was getting worried about him. What if he got hurt being a hero? So when he didn't pick up his cell, I dialed his house.
"Hello?" Definitely Mrs. Perkins answering. She sort of talks through her nose, so it's easy to tell when it's her.
"Hi, Mrs. Perkins, this is Katâ"
"I know who this isâwhat is it you want?" Whoa. What's up with the attitude? Then I heard David in the background, telling her he didn't want to speak to me again. Again? What did he mean?
"Um," I stammered, "Is there something wrong?"
"Why, Katherine Goldstein, you should know quite well what's wrong." She laughed then. Not a funny-ha-ha laugh, but more like when you're angry and you're about to tell someone exactly what you think of them. "Not even an hour ago David called you and you told him to leave you alone." She paused. "I think you used the words, 'Quit annoying me, you flippin' loser'. What kind of language is that for a young lady?"
Huh? What was she talking about? I was about to ask, but the line was dead.
PARTY OF ONE AGAIN
or better yet
THE DAY THAT SUCKED BIG TIME
"So in conclusion," Kelley said from the podium on the cafeteria stage, "I'll make sure we switch from frozen to fresh pizzas and there'll be music and smoothie carts on Fridays at lunch."
The crowd began hooting and clapping. I was nauseous from just hearing her voice. The last thirty-six hours had been some of the worst I've ever had, and she wasn't making it any better. Having David mad at me and sitting through a speech full of lies by Kelley was way worse than any veggie soufflé. Or wearing ugly clothes to dinner at the mayor's house. At this exact moment, I hated her for what she stood for. I hated she was popular despite the fact she was mean and a liar. I hated people accepted her for who she was and how she always had boys who liked her and friends, no matter what she did.
"Now, before we all go back to class, I have a little piece of entertainment to show you." Kelley nodded to the guy who was working the projector.
The lights went out and the typical cat-calling that happens in the dark began. Mad and bored, I thought about all the speeches filled with lies just to get our votes for student body reps. Kelley was trying to win the golden Class President title. The others promised stuff like no homework, longer lunches, and unlimited texting, even during class.
Suddenly the screen on stage lit up. My eyes were tired âcause my sleep so sucked last night. Something about having the-best-boy-like-you-for-one-day-and-who-hates-you-now-for-some-unknown-reason makes it super hard to fall asleep. But when I did focus, I wished I and the rest of my class were blind. There, in full view for the whole student body to witness, blown up so the people of Siberia could see if they wanted to, was my note. But not just my cryptic answer of D.P.C.B.E. Below each letter was the rest of each word.
They'd cracked the code.
"This note was written by our one and only classmate, Kat Goldstein!"
Holy cow.
There it was. The question, and then my correctly decoded answer right below it.
WHO DO YOU WANT TO BE YOUR FIRST KISS?
D
P
C
B
E
A
E
U
O
V
V
R
T
Y
E
I
K
E
R
D
I
S
N
T
S
It was like one of those awful About Me poems your teacher makes you write after you've just come back from summer break, only a million times worse. I slid down in my chair as people finally figured out what it said. The laughter was like the wave at a sporting event. It started on one side of the room and quickly made its way over to me. I wanted to die for real. Everything started moving in slow motion and it felt like I was underwater, about to explode from the pressure. I sat there, trying to catch my breath, trying to find a way out of there without anyone noticing.
And then it became a million times worse.
David got up, walked over to the projector, and pulled the plug. The screen went grey and he was scowling like he was super angry. One hundred percent sure he hated me now. I'd embarrassed both of us, and now I was some boy-crazy girl on top of all the other stuff. I could see it in the faces of everyone around me. My rep was ruined. And for nothing. Because all I'd ever wanted was to hang out with him. I don't even think I would know how to kiss him if I had the chance.
But even worse than that, I saw Kelley run off the stage after him and they both slipped through the side door together.
Â
WORST DIARY POST EVER
Â
Dear Diary:
I want to disappear. David hates me. I tried to get him to stop and talk to me but he acted like I wasn't there while everyone at Crossley stared at me. A person can only take so much. And to top it all off, Kelley's beat me. She's finally brought me down, and I bet my note will go viral tomorrow, with her most awesome narration and video of me trying to get out of the caf before I died. You just know everyone was filming me, because what's more fun than attacking your own? Just ask the animal kingdom, which Kelley is clearly closely related to (the hyenas if you ask me). Nothing will make this okay. Right now I could use a burger with cheese, and a load of fries. Wish Hamburger Heaven delivered.
Kat
ONE STEP FORWARD, TWO STEPS BACK
Evan's dad's golf cart, two in the afternoon on a school day, waiting to make our move. It's been a little more than a week since the most devastating phone call of my life, followed by an even worse day of public humiliation. It was so bad, Evan's risking big-time trouble because of how sorry he feels for me. Driving the golf cart could mean a huge fine from the police âcause he's way underage. But worse than that, his parents would probably ground him until he's eighteen if they found out. That's why we took back roads here, but with my luck lately it wouldn't surprise me if C.G.P.D. pulled up any second.
We're parked beside the ivy-coated curbing just beyond the mayor's mansion. I felt all private detective-like, hidden behind one of those big trash bins you rent when someone dies and has saved everything for the past millennium. The gardeners were finishing up, so we were waiting for our chance to sneak onto the property.
It had been a minimum day at school, the perfect time to catch a few hours at the mayor's house. Wasn't sure what I was going to do tomorrow, when I'd have to deal with a whole six hours of kids staring at me, instead of just the three today. A girl can only hide in a bathroom stall so many times.
Walking through the hallways was the worst part. Ever feel like all eyes were on you? It was like they were waiting for me to break. At least my friends tried to protect me as much as they could, circling me with a cocoon-like barrier. And most of them had their instruments today for band practice, so as luck would have it, Mark Collins had his tuba. He let me walk behind the thing most of the three hours we were there. But I still heard the giggles led by Kelley and friends, saw the pointing. Felt like I may as well have been walking through the hallway in my undies and training bra. My intense dislike for Kelley changed to intense hate right then and there. Why was it her goal in life to destroy me?
Evan had begun snoring about five minutes ago and I was glad we didn't have to talk right now. Pretty sure he was tired of hearing me whine about all the stuff that'd gone wrong in my life in the last forty-eight hours. Even I was sick of me.
Worst part of all is David won't even look at me, and Kelley sported her stupid happy face at school today. And the pep rally almost killed me for real. He sat next to her and actually let her snuggle in close when they saw me. Of course she threw an evil sneer my way. I couldn't tell if he was enjoying it or not. I'd rather he was putting up with it to get back at me, because that would be better than him falling for her. Did he have the same low opinion of me as the rest of the kids at Crossley? I wouldn't blame him because even
I
didn't respect me anymore.
There's also the weird phone call with his mom. Even though it wasn't me on the phone who'd said such a horrible thing, he believed it was. Truly, this was so incredibly bizarre. I wished so badly I could somehow figure it out and fix it. But it's impossible. How can I when every time I'm within twenty feet of him, he turns and walks the other way? I finally got super angry at him and was glad I hadn't told him I liked him. He didn't deserve it. I mean, I know he was hurt and all, but don't you give a person a chance to explain? Whatever. It's too late now to worry about it. Must refocus on what's in front of me if anything good is going to happen.
I'd brought the journal we'd found in the underground room so I grabbed it from my backpack. Might as well go through it since all I'm doing is sitting here feeling sorry for myself. As I flipped through, I spotted a loose piece of old paper pressed in between some pages, close to the binding. I gently tugged at it, careful not to rip it. It was handwritten and hard to read.
12/8/1941
Dear Eleanor:
It
'
s almost dusk, having just arrived under cover of night. You can
'
t believe how strange it is to have to be secretive about my whereabouts these days. Not wanting to wake you, I went about my business quietly, but did place one messy kiss on your brow before I left. Though you didn
'
t accompany me on this trip, you are always on my mind. I hope this note finds you well and your benefit to raise money for the war widows is a success. As usual, the temperate weather here is treating my muscles to a reprieve from the constant aching. I
'
m so fortunate my mates are willing to fly to the west coast to visit with me.
The groundskeeper, George, is an inventive cuss despite his young years. He rigged a pulley action on a makeshift dumbwaiter, strong enough to hold me and Old Bessie so I
'
m able to join the others in the game room. While sitting here waiting for my friends to arrive, I can
'
t help but think how nice it would be if we were able to concentrate on the lighter things while we gather this weekâlike good bourbon and fine cigars. But I have no doubt the talk of the atrocities will be unavoidable. I know you say we must take heed now, listen to what we
'
re hearing out of Europe. There
'
s some talk the Japanese have Kamikaze pilots ready to go into action and I fear the worst with them. At least, so far, we
'
ve escaped what Britain hasn
'
t. Winston is beside himself over worry for his people. I know action is necessary
The note ended abruptly with the word "necessary." Who was Eleanor and who wrote this note? It seemed as though the writer had gotten interrupted, the last line only a partial sentence. And the date was familiar. Hmm. I'll web search it later.
"Watcha reading?" Evan asked through his yawn. I hadn't even noticed him starting to wake up.
"This," I held up the note, "was stuck in the journal we found the other day. It's a letter to someone named Eleanor."
"Huh," he said as he yawned again, and then squinted more closely at it. "December eighth? The day Pearl Harbor was bombed?"
That's right! How could I have forgotten? I am, after all, the number one fan of nineteen forties history. We'd been studying World War II for most of the semester, so obviously I'd had a brain fart. Had the bombing of Pearl Harbor interrupted whoever wrote the letter?
"Who's Eleanor?"
I folded the note and stuck it back in between the pages for safe keeping. "Beats me. I think we need a little more time to figureâ"
My cell phone began vibrating in my pocket, interrupting my train of thought. I pulled it out. Oh no. "It's my mom," I grumbled. Should I let it go to VM?
"Better answer it. No use putting it off."
"What's up, Mom?" I held my finger up to my lips to let him know to stay quiet. I was about to lie and I didn't need him to ruin things.
"Kathryn Marie Goldstein, where are you?"
Uh-oh. Full names coming out of the General's mouth meant trouble.
"At the library, where else? I told you I'd be going there after the minimum day at school." Would she believe it? I mean it's not like I'm off with my gang of Honors English classmates spray painting the parts of speech on private property.
"Listen to me, young lady," she was just heating up, her voice getting higher with each word. "I
do not
throw good money after bad. We are not wealthy by any stretch of the imagination. So why on earth do you continue to miss your tutoring appointment? Mrs. Swenson called and was not happy. She went to the trouble of switching your tutorâ¦"
"Switching?" I interrupted. "My tutor?" I felt like I'd been socked in the gut. Guess explaining things to David at our next session was definitely not going to happen. My emotions sunk to a new low as the hopelessness of the situation hit me. Even though I was mad at him, this was still so unfair. A girl should get a chance to clear her name, after all.
And now this. I've missed another tutoring session and Mom was going to be all up in my business now, making life even worse. I must have gotten my days mixed up. In my head it was supposed to be Tuesday, but I'd forgotten we had a holiday on Monday so today was actually Wednesday.
Mom was blabbing on and on about wasting money and how irresponsible I was. She needed to stop. "Uh, Mom, what happened to David?" I interrupted.
"If you must know, she said there was a scheduling conflict on his part. When you finally told me he was your tutor, I knew it was a bad idea. But that doesn't matter anyway. Right now you need to leave wherever you are and get yourself to your session. As in,
immediately
. Not an hour from now when you're ready!"
I pictured her slamming the phone down right before I was left with a dial tone and no negotiating power whatsoever. I'd been about to apologize and let her know the truthâ¦this time it
had
been an innocent mistake. Too late, though. I'd blown it.
"Gotta go," I said, trying not to tear up again. "Can you drop me at my math tutor's?"
"Hey, I know this whole thing has been pretty bad for you," he said in an uncharacteristically caring voice. It made me want to feel his forehead or try to pull back the skin on his face to see who was sitting next to me. "Just don't worry, okay? The Cosmetology Club voted, and we've decided we'll get Kelley back for you. I'm not going to tell you what it is because it's still in the planning stages, but it's big."
At least Evan was on my side. "Thanks, buddy."
It was then I decided I would walk into Math 4 U with my head held high. There
were
people on my side, and that's what mattered. All the stuff that had happened was massively unfair, and I couldn't believe David didn't trust me enough to realize I'd never call him a loser, let alone a flippin' loser. Seems like we'd had enough conversations for him to know I'm not the b-word like Kelley.
So the question is, who was the big jerk who'd pretended to be me?