Too Cool for This School

by Kristen Tracy

  I cleared my throat. “My cousin is a very interesting person,” I said. “Who is, um, really independent and (pause) creative and quick and knows cool stuff about bears.”

  There was total silence. But I think I could hear Ava’s head exploding in disbelief. Angelina—er, uh—Mint waved again.

  “She knows cool stuff about wolves too,” Jagger said loudly.

  “What fortunate news,” Mr. Guzman says. “Because over the summer, our class read Julie of the Wolves by Jean Craighead George. I bet Mint will make an excellent resource for that.”

  I did not like the idea of Mint sharing information about wolves with my classmates in a group setting. Everybody would find out that she was super weird for sure! My mind kept zooming. She’d probably insist on wearing the wolf T-shirt to work on her presentation. And that would create a ton of group laughter. I imagined everybody laughing at her. Then I remembered that I was wearing that stupid shirt. Another note landed next to my hand. It was from Ava.

  Did she braid my pajama belt to her head? Seriously.

  I turned and gave Ava a quick nod.

  “Lane,” Mr. Guzman said. “Why don’t you help Mint hand out our next geography assignment? We’ll be mapping all the water resources in New Mexico.”

  “I love mapping!” Mint exclaimed.

  I stood up on shaky knees and slowly walked to the front of the classroom. This jacket made me feel hotter and hotter and hotter. All I could think about was the sweat beads traveling down my back. I didn’t like standing in front of people. Walk. Walk. Walk. When I got to the front of the room, some of my classmates’ faces began to spin and I thought I might tip over. Wyatt Dover. Wren Ochoa. Paulette Feeley. Jagger. Lucia. Rachel—Then I felt an arm reach around my waist and steady me. Todd Romero? No, Angelina Mint Taravel. Then I watched as a blond blur hurried up to the front of the room. It was Ava.

  She put her arm around me too and informed Mr. Guzman, “I’m taking Lane to the bathroom.”

  Ava didn’t wait for permission as she pulled me out of the classroom and down the hallway. “Why are you wearing that lame jacket?”

  We entered the bathroom and I didn’t answer. Because I didn’t want to admit that I was wearing a much lamer shirt underneath. But then Ava put two and two together. “You’re wearing Angelina’s weird clothes!”

  I leaned against the bathroom wall. “Please don’t judge me. I need water.”

  I felt Ava yank on my zipper. Then she released a horrendous gasp. “What’s going on? You can’t wear this in public.”

  She was right.

  I tried to remember why I was wearing this shirt in the first place. “I was just trying to protect my cousin.”

  Ava scowled at me and then shook her head. “I’m going to Lost and Found to see if I can snag you a halfway decent shirt.”

  “No,” I said. I couldn’t let Ava do that. Wouldn’t that be stealing? Letting my mom lie about Mint’s permanent address to get her into the school for a month was dishonorable enough. I couldn’t become a Lost and Found thief too. I’d signed an honor pledge. Forget whether the shirt would be scratchy or smell. What if the person who lost it recognized it and wanted it back? How would that look to my fellow class captains? I mean, they were planning to find me during lunch.

  “Yes,” Ava said. “No arguments. It’s your only hope.”

  Ava sounded so certain that I decided she was probably right.

  “I hope you realize what an evil swap your cousin just pulled,” Ava said.

  “No. No. No,” I said. “This was my idea. I offered.”

  Ava’s eyes grew very large. I’m sure that was surprising news. Because what sixth grader would ever offer to wear ridiculous clothes?

  Ava stuck her pointer finger in my face. “She tricked you. That’s what’s going on, and that’s what makes the swap evil. She’s trying to ruin your reputation and destroy your relationship with Todd!”

  Why did Ava think that? “No,” I said. “She’s not like that.” My cousin wasn’t crafty and mean. She was clueless and animal loving.

  “Oh,” Ava said before she walked out, “she’s exactly like that. Trust me. I’ve got her number.”

  I kept leaning against the bathroom wall until Ava came back. Luckily, she returned with a cute, odorless green shirt that was made out of a super-soft fabric. We went into a stall and locked the door. I took off the jacket and the wolf shirt, and put the green one on.

  “We’re trashing this,” Ava said, taking the wolf shirt and wadding it up into a ball.

  “Um,” I said. “That might upset my mom.” Even though I was justified, my mom would never approve of me trashing my cousin’s clothes.

  “This shirt will reenter your life and haunt you if you don’t destroy it right now,” Ava said.

  She was right. “Okay. But we have to keep her jacket.”

  Ava lifted my cousin’s jacket by one finger and dangled it in front of me in disgust.

  “That thing should have died in a garbage can years ago,” Ava said.

  “It’s the only jacket she brought,” I said.

  “It goes against my better judgment, but fine,” Ava said.

  I felt so relieved. But when I reached for it, Ava didn’t give it to me.

  “Promise me you’ll quit wearing it and hang it in the coat area,” Ava said.

  “Deal,” I said.

  When I walked back into the classroom wearing my semistolen, semiborrowed green shirt, my cousin was energetically placing the last geography assignment in front of Jagger. “I bet this would be harder if we lived in Alaska,” he said. “I bet that state has a ton more water resources than ours.”

  She smiled hugely, and then said very loudly so the whole class could hear her, “Yeah. Alaska’s rivers, lakes, snowfields, wetlands, and glaciers make up about forty percent of the entire surface water for the United States. And in the spring, we get a bunch of ice jams.”

  “That’s so interesting, Mint,” Mr. Guzman said. “Ever since I was a kid, I’ve always wanted to visit Alaska.”

  Was I really going to have to call my cousin Mint? It sounded so weird when Mr. Guzman said it. Like a foreign word. Or the name of a pet rat. Mint? I said it several times in my head. Mint. Mint. Mint. Even though it seemed wrong on many levels, I guess this was what everybody was going to call her now. Even me.

  I continued to half listen as Mint gushed about Alaskan ice jams. Was this how she flirted? Maybe it didn’t matter whether Jagger thought she was cute. Because she came off as an annoying fact nerd. I went to my desk and sat down. After giving Jagger his assignment, my cousin knocked his desk with her hip, making a pencil roll onto the floor. Then she picked it up.

  “I am so clumsy,” she said, drumming the pencil against his desk. “Hey, are these your teeth marks?”

  When she finally handed the pencil back to him, for the first time in my life, I saw Jagger Evenson blush.

  “I’m not sure,” Jagger said, holding the pencil with both hands, inspecting the pocked wood. “They could be.”

  Then I watched Mint reach into her pocket and pull out a pack of gum, which wasn’t even allowed at my school. I looked to Mr. Guzman to see if he’d stop her. But he was sorting through a paper pile at his desk.

  “Gum tastes way better,” she said, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

  Somehow the pajama belt had given her hair extra volume, making it look really good, especially when she tossed it.

  Jagger blushed more.

  It was disgusting! Angelina Mint Taravel did know how to flirt. Seeing this sent a chill down my spine. Cousin or not, I did not want her in my classroom. I wanted her gone.

  10

  Even though Ava was my best friend, Rachel had become my favorite friend to call when things in my life were going lousy. Because she was a good listener. I’d dial her up and dump out all my anger, and she never interrupted me with her own problems. She was great like that. Especially when I found myself obsessing over the same rotten
thing over and over.

  “My pink bohemian shirt is totally ruined,” I told Rachel. “I mean, this stain is as permanent as the Grand Canyon.”

  It might have been yesterday’s news to my friends, but I could not stop staring at my grafittied top.

  “It was rude of her to put an exclamation point on it,” Rachel said. “Even if she thought it added style.”

  Who would think an exclamation mark added style? I just ignored that comment.

  “Mint is in the kitchen right now with my mom helping her make dinner,” I said. “She is so irritating.”

  As the days ticked by, I found Mint difficult to be around even when I wasn’t around her. She was powerfully annoying. Every little thing she did got under my skin: The way she wrote in her journal at night. The way she stole my parents’ attention and talked to them as if they were her good friends. The way she sat at her desk and raised her hand and answered questions as if she belonged there, when her real school address was in Alaska. The way she took off her socks and left them on my bedroom floor in little sock wads. It was rough.

  “Maybe you should go watch television,” Rachel said. “Take your mind off her.”

  “I think I should tell my mom what Mint did,” I said. I kept rubbing my finger across the black mark. It felt like a different texture than the rest of my shirt. It felt like a different texture than anything I’d ever touched.

  “Wouldn’t you have to tell your mom that you threw her wolf shirt in the garbage?” Rachel asked.

  She was right. Instead of looking like a person who had an inconsiderate cousin who destroyed my clothes, I ran the risk of looking like the inconsiderate person who threw my cousin’s clothes away. My situation felt so unfair.

  “Do you want to talk about something else?” Rachel asked. “When are we going to buy tickets for Ava’s concert?”

  Ava’s Sleeping Beauty concert was still weeks away. Because we were supportive friends, we tried to attend all of them. Sometimes I wished Ava played the guitar or ukulele instead of the cello. Symphonies could be boring. Not only did Ava usually have a small part, she was mostly hidden behind her cello. This time Ava had assured us that she would be playing her cello during most of the songs. And when she wasn’t playing, she promised us she would try to lean to the left so that we could see her better.

  “Has she showed you her callus?” Rachel asked. “It’s huge. She’s practicing like crazy.”

  “No, she hasn’t. Let’s not worry about her concert yet. Can I vent more about Mint?” I asked. Because that was the whole reason I’d called Rachel. It’s like she’d forgotten what a great listener she used to be.

  “Sure. Do you mind if I draw squids while you talk?”

  “Go ahead,” I said.

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  “Great,” I huffed. “I think my least favorite houseguest ever just knocked on my door.”

  “At least she knocked,” Rachel offered. “You are sharing the room.”

  When my mom poked her head in my room, I felt a little relieved.

  “Honey, Mint and I have decided to run to the store,” she asked. “Do you want to come?”

  It really bugged me that my mom was calling my cousin “Mint.” I thought that was going to be something that would only happen at school.

  “I’ll stay here,” I said. “Can you get more cereal?” I hated it when the box became overly crumb-filled at the bottom. All those little particles made the milk soupy.

  Mint barreled into my room and raced toward her duffel bag. “Let me grab my wallet.”

  I thought it was weird that Mint thought she had to buy her own food at the grocery store. Didn’t she know my parents had that covered?

  “Consider it an early birthday present,” my mom said.

  “You are such a cool aunt!” Mint cheered, wrapping her arms around my mom.

  “Why aren’t you talking to me anymore?” Rachel asked.

  “Something is happening in my bedroom,” I explained. “I think my mom is taking Mint clothes shopping.”

  “Maybe she can buy you a replacement shirt!” Rachel suggested.

  But if that happened, I thought I also might have to buy Mint a replacement wolf shirt and I would rather get attacked by a pack of cats than do that.

  “I know exactly where I want to go!” Mint said. “It’s the hippest shop in Santa Fe.”

  I stared at Mint in disbelief. How would she know where the hippest store was?

  “Skull Coast!” Mint cheered.

  I almost dropped the phone. “Mint wants to go to Skull Coast to buy clothes,” I told Rachel in a horrified and stunned voice.

  “The thrasher store with the giant spiders?” Rachel asked.

  How did Mint already know the creepiest place to shop in Santa Fe? Supposedly, that place kept tarantulas inside plastic boxes throughout the store. Didn’t Mint have any impulses toward normal stuff?

  “I don’t think we’ve ever shopped there,” my mom said. “Have we?”

  “Rachel,” I said. “I’ve got to go.” There was no way I could send my mom and Mint to that place without my guidance. As much as I wanted to stay and talk to Rachel, I needed to make sure nothing insane happened.

  As soon as my mom parked the car, I got a phone call from Ava. But I didn’t answer it. I stayed focus on my task. No insane things could happen.

  “Wow,” my mom said as we walked through the glass front doors. “They sure have a lot of black apparel.”

  This was an understatement. Skull Coast had zero variety. The T-shirts were black. The pants were black. The shorts were black. And they didn’t have a girl’s section. It was a total dude store.

  “How did you hear about this place?” my mom asked as she walked past a metal pole showcasing a T-shirt that said I POOPED TODAY.

  “A guy who sits near me mentioned it,” Mint said.

  “Who?” I asked. Because I couldn’t think of a single person in my class who would enter this store.

  “Tuma,” Mint said.

  I felt sick to my stomach. Why was Mint talking to Tuma? He was trouble.

  “Is that a tarantula?” my mom asked, lifting a shaky finger toward a Plexiglas box holding the biggest fanged spider I’d ever seen.

  My life didn’t even feel like my life. A week ago I never even knew where this strip mall was located, now I was standing inside its weirdest store next to a giant, hairy spider.

  A pimply teenager with three lip rings approached us. “If you’ve got any questions, shoot them my way.”

  “Where are your Damaged Earth shirts?” Mint asked.

  “Back corner,” the teenager said. “Buy one, get one fifty percent off.”

  “Cool!” Mint cheered.

  My mom and I followed Mint to the back corner. And as if things couldn’t get any worse, I actually spotted Tuma in the store. Which was doubly tragic. Because it meant that Tuma would eventually spot me.

  “You came,” Tuma said.

  I watched as he approached my cousin. I couldn’t believe that she’d convinced my mom to drive her to this store. Was she planning to hang out with him? Did she like him? Did she like like him?

  “This feels so wrong,” I told my mom as we stood back and let Tuma and Mint chat while they looked through a pile of T-shirts.

  “Come here,” my mom said, pulling me behind a round rack of black jeans.

  “She had a disappointing phone call with Aunt Betina the other day and I’m trying to cheer her up,” my mom said.

  “We are in a store filled with tarantulas, gross clothes, and a lame kid rumored to have a violent streak from my school,” I snapped.

  “Why are you making this harder than it needs to be?” my mom asked. “She’s making a friend.”

  A friend? Mint flipped her hair several times while she and Tuma held up various T-shirts. I couldn’t believe it. Did Mint seriously like Tuma? The one positive outcome of Mint possibly like liking Tuma was that she’d stop flirting with Jagger.

&nbs
p; “Mom, I am not making anything harder,” I said.

  The sound of Tuma and Mint laughing interrupted our fight.

  “Totally get that one,” Tuma said.

  “Aunt Claire?” Mint called. “I think I found my shirts.”

  I rolled my eyes. I couldn’t even imagine what Mint had found that she thought was wearable.

  “Those are nice,” my mom said, as the cashier rang up our purchase.

  It turns out I was wrong about everything being black in the store. Mint had found a tight-fitting, dark green T-shirt with a bunch of smeared patches of red on it. If you stood back far enough, the green spaces formed a world globe. And she also picked out a shirt that had a camouflage pattern on it that said DON’T SHOOT. It surprised me that these shirts even existed, let alone that I would be related to somebody who wanted to wear them to middle school.

  While I stood beside my mom at the register, I could feel Tuma approaching me. I didn’t turn my head.

  “So what’s Ava doing tonight?” Tuma asked me.

  It creeped me out that Tuma asked me something so personal about Ava. They weren’t friends. And I was pretty sure she wouldn’t want me to discuss what she was doing. “She’s chillin’,” I said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

  “When’s her next cello thing?” he asked.

  I glanced at Mint and shot her daggers. If it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t be in this awkward situation. I would be at home talking to Rachel on the phone.

  “Next month,” I said. And then I turned my body away so he knew I was finished talking to him.

  “Ready?” my mom asked as she finished signing the store’s receipt.

  “Yeah,” I said.

  As we climbed into the car and started driving home, I kept feeling a weird tingling sensation on my arms. Like maybe a spider was crawling on them. But every time I looked down they were fine.

  “Tuma told me that the class captains get to plan all the school parties for the year,” Mint said.

  This meant Mint and Tuma had been talking about me. I didn’t approve of that at all.

  “Your school always has the best themes,” my mom said in an upbeat voice. “Last year they had a luau.”