Ava XOX

by Carol Weston

  I hope Tanya likes our tips. I put them in an envelope, and on it, I wrote: Your friend, Ava.

  YOUR FRIEND, AVA THE WISE

  FIT OR FAT

  Want to lose weight?

  What’s on your plate?

  Also try to think

  About what you drink.

  Ava and Bea’s Top Ten Tips

  1. Drink H20—it’s free and has zero calories.

  2. Eat less—but don’t obsess. (That’s a rhyme!)

  3. Exercise more than you did before. (Another rhyme!)

  4. Slow down when you eat. It takes twenty minutes for your brain to figure out what your mouth has been up to.

  5. Watch your S’s. Cut back on Seconds, Sweets, Snacks, and Sugary Sodas.

  6. Watch your O’s. Cut back on FritOs, CheetOs, DoritOs, TostitOs, and OreOs.

  7. Be colorful. Enjoy red, orange, yellow, green, and purple vegetables and fruits.

  8. When you get tempted to overeat or binge on junk food, brush your teeth, chew sugarless gum, or nibble on fruit, veggies, or unbuttered popcorn.

  9. Find a workout buddy or go on walk-and-talks. You can also do sports or walk a dog.

  10. Congratulate yourself for taking care of yourself, one day at a time. Y-A-Y YOU!

  2/18

  IN THE LIBRARY

  DEAR DIARY,

  I ran into Tanya in the girls’ room and told her I liked her presentation—but she looked like I’d hit her with a pillow. “I was about to put this in your locker,” I said and handed her the envelope. I hoped Pip was right and that Tanya knew I was trying to be helpful.

  “Thanks,” she said and skimmed the list. It was awkward. I guess it’s one thing to tell your quiet new friend that you wish you could lose weight and another to have her little sister show up with actual suggestions after you’ve been laughed at in front of the whole middle school. But Tanya had asked for tips. And to be honest, ever since Bea and I made the Pip Pointers, I’d kind of wanted to do another good D-E-E-D.

  I’d also been thinking that if I ever do get to write kids’ books someday (my new answer to “What do you want to do when you grow up?”), maybe I could write one called Ava Wren Does It Again. Or I could make a series called Ava and Bea about two girls who go around solving problems the way detectives solve mysteries…

  Tanya studied the handwriting on the envelope and looked up. “Whoa, Ava. You’re the one who gave me that valentine?”

  “Sorry,” I mumbled guiltily. I hadn’t even thought about disguising my handwriting. I’d forgotten that you can recognize people by their handwriting just as you can by their voice or haircut or…posture. I hoped Tanya didn’t feel tricked.

  She frowned. “It’s okay. At first, I guess I was hoping it was from a guy. But then I thought someone was making fun of me.”

  “No one would make fun of you!” I almost blurted, but, well, we both knew that wasn’t true.

  Some people really are mean. You know the saying, “He doesn’t have a mean bone in his body”? Some people have mean skeletons. Some could give lessons in mean. Kelli has a few mean ribs in her rib cage. And Rorie, that scary eighth grader, probably has a whole mean spine!

  I looked at Tanya in the mirror and what I did say was, “Tanya, don’t let those dumdums get you down.”

  She gave me a soft smile and said, “My grandmother says, ‘Don’t let the turkeys get you down.’”

  I mumbled, “Gobble, gobble,” which I knew was immature the second it came out.

  But Tanya laughed and said, “Gobble, gobble” back. Then three other girls came in, so we left.

  After that, I went to find Ms. Sickle. I showed her my poster and asked if I could put it up in the hallway. She said, “Sure,” and complimented my handwriting. I would have preferred if she’d complimented the words themselves, but I could tell she was busy.

  I hope people like it as much as they liked “The Cat Who Wouldn’t Purr.”

  AVA, ATTEMPTING TO AID AND ASSIST

  2/18

  STUDY HALL

  DEAR DIARY,

  At lunch, Kelli was sitting next to Chuck, showing him photos of her goldendoodle, Snuggles. I wished I were sitting next to Chuck talking to him about my yellow tabby rescue cat, Taco. (I also kept sneaking peeks at the back of his head and then telling myself not to.)

  After lunch, Tanya came by my locker. “I didn’t know you were making a poster,” she said. “I thought you made the tips just for me.”

  I didn’t know what to say. It was true that Tanya had inspired us, but after Bea and I spent so much time on the tips, we (I?) thought it would be okay to share them with other people too. Especially since I want to be a writer and Bea wants to be an advice columnist.

  “Does it matter?” I asked. I didn’t want Tanya to be upset.

  She looked down. “I guess not.”

  “No one knows you had anything to do with it,” I said, in case that was her worry. “Ms. Sickle has been doing a unit on ‘health and body image.’”

  Tanya shrugged. “I just kind of liked the idea that you two made the list for me, special.”

  “We did,” I said. “We mostly did.”

  She nodded. “It’s okay. Never mind.” She went to her next class, and I did too, but I have to say, the whole conversation made me feel a little upside down.

  (THAT’S AVA UPSIDE DOWN)

  2/18

  BEDTIME

  DEAR DIARY,

  I read an Aesop fable and told it to Pip:

  A conceited ass was braying insulting things about a lion. At first, the lion was upset, and he started to growl and roar and bare his teeth. But then he looked more closely and realized the insults were coming from a silly ass, so he decided to just go his merry way and not pay any attention.

  “What’s the moral?” Pip asked.

  “If the person insulting you is a dumdum, try not to care too much,” I said, and told her that I gave the tips to Tanya.

  “Yeah, but it’s easier to ignore one dumb donkey—or dumdum,” Pip said, “than to pretend you don’t care about a whole assembly full of them, you know?”

  “I know,” I said and felt sad for Tanya. It seems like school is just easier for some kids (like Kelli and even me) than others (like Tanya and even Pip).

  A.

  2/19

  AFTER SCHOOL WITH TACO BY MY SIDE

  DEAR DIARY,

  Today was the worst worst WORST.

  I don’t even want to tell you what happened! It was so awful that in English, I barely said a single syllable (even to Chuck), and I was shaky during the spelling test, which, by the way, included the word nightmare. Chuck kept looking at me like he could tell something was wrong, but I couldn’t talk about it. Not in front of everyone!

  After class, Mrs. Lemons asked if I was okay, so I waited until the very last person left and then I started to cry! Which I hardly ever do in school! It was embarrassing, even though Mrs. Lemons was nice and gave me a hug.

  Here’s what happened.

  (Actually, I still don’t want to write it down, because then it will feel real.)

  Okay, I got to lunch late because I’d gone by our FLASH room to check on my poster. It wasn’t there! Ms. Sickle wasn’t either, so I decided I’d ask her about it later. By the time I got to the cafeteria, Maybelle’s table was full. Chuck was with You-Know-Who. And even Pip was with friends. I figured I’d put my tray down at a corner table by myself, and someone nice would come join me.

  That is not what happened.

  That big scary eighth grader, Rorie, sat down. Then Valeria sat down. Then Loudmouth Lacey sat down. So did Rorie’s seventh-grade friend Jayda, who has red hair. And so did Mackie, an eighth-grade girl whose dog recently ate a rubber ducky. (Dr. Gross had to operate.) For one stupid second, I thought, W-O-W. All these older kids are sitting with me. I eve
n wondered if they liked my new poster.

  Then I noticed that not one of them was smiling.

  Maybe I’m better at reading faces than books, because suddenly it was crystal clear that these girls had it in for me. I was getting…ambushed.

  Rorie spoke first. “One question, Ava,” she said. “Who made you queen of the world?”

  “Yeah,” Lacey said. “You get your picture in the paper, and now you’re like an authority on everything?” She crinkled her eyes like a snake.

  “‘Fit or Fat’? Really?” Jayda asked. “Who says it’s either/or! There are plenty of overweight people who are fit. And plenty of skinny people who are wimps.”

  “How strong are you, anyway?” Lacey asked. She shoved my shoulder, and the others laughed. I knew I should stand up and run, but I felt stuck. Powerless. It was as if I’d wandered into a movie—a horror movie.

  Rorie said, “You’re lucky you’re in fifth grade. Otherwise we’d be having this conversation outside.”

  Lacey cackled. “Little toothpick thinks she’s the body police.” She gave me a push to see if I’d fight back.

  Rorie looked at Valeria, and Valeria said, “Yeah. We don’t appreciate you telling people what they should or shouldn’t eat. Or how they should or shouldn’t look.” Rorie nodded. “No one gets to tell us how to live our lives.”

  “It’s a free country,” Jayda added. “If I want to eat a pack of Oreos, it’s none of your business! No one asked you!”

  I wanted to shout, “That’s not true!” because Tanya had asked me. But I also wanted to leave Tanya out of this. She had enough to worry about. I wished I could defend myself the way I’d defended Pip last year when Lacey made fun of her. But I couldn’t. I was crumpling before their very eyes. If we were outside, would they be beating me up?

  “You know how some girls eat two peas and a lettuce leaf and call it lunch?” Jayda said. “That’s what’s really bad! That and the girls who throw up on purpose.” She studied my face. “And just so you know, I’m fine with how I look.” She put one hand behind her head in a sassy way. “In fact, I’m so fine, I could be a plus-size model!” Mackie high-fived her.

  Rorie said, “Oh, and if you’re looking for that nasty poster you made with your buddy Bea, it’s in the trash, okay? We don’t need twigs like you going around telling everyone they should be a size zero. You got that?”

  I might have nodded. Or my face might have gone up and down. But really, I don’t think “I” had anything to do with it. It was like I was watching this scene, not living it.

  Rorie gave Lacey a look, and Lacey added, “And for your information, some people gain weight more easily than others. So watch how you throw around the word ‘fat,’ okay?”

  The girls were all staring at me, and I wished I’d never titled my poster “FIT OR FAT.” To be honest, I mostly just liked how the words “fat” and “fit” looked together.

  Stupid, stupid me!

  “And some boys like girls with curves,” Jayda said.

  That cracked everyone up, but to me, it seemed really random, because what did boys have to do with any of this?

  Mackie spoke up for the first time. She’s the one who knows my mom because her dog ate the duck. “Ava,” she said, “you’ve probably heard about sexism and racism. Well, there’s such a thing as sizism too. So you need to think about that.”

  Sizism? Is that even a word? How could I be a sizist? I am not a sizist! I made that list because Tanya asked me to and because Ms. Sickles had said obesity is dangerous.

  Rorie jumped in again. “Here’s the thing: you may think it’s bad to be fat, but we think it’s worse to be a shallow little zero!”

  Mackie looked at me and added more softly. “Ava, the point is that it’s not good to judge people’s insides by their outsides.”

  I wanted to say, “I wasn’t! I don’t!” but my nose was tingling, and I knew that if I said anything, I’d burst into tears.

  “People come in all sizes,” Mackie continued. “Some are big and some are small, and so what? It’s not what you look like—it’s who you are that counts.”

  She glanced at Rorie as if to say, “Enough already.”

  Rorie shrugged, then turned to me and said, “Okay, we’re done. But we don’t need you judging us. So why don’t you get out of here and let us have our lunch in peace?”

  “And while you’re at it, grow up!” Lacey threw in.

  I wanted to say that I was trying to grow up, but instead I ran out of the lunchroom even though I hadn’t eaten a single bite. I didn’t see Maybelle or Pip or Chuck, but I did see Kelli. She was staring at me. And I bet she knew exactly what had just happened.

  AVA, ZERO

  2/19

  AN HOUR LATER

  DEAR DIARY,

  I phoned Maybelle, but she was on her way to Kelli’s for a sleepover with Zara. That made me feel even worse!

  I told Dad what a horrible mess I was in and how in my head, I’d gone from hero to zero without passing Go. He said he and Mom already knew about it, because after I’d told Mrs. Lemons, she’d told Principal Gupta, and she’d told Dad, and Dad had told Mom. Now there’s going to be a special assembly for the whole middle school on bullying and health and I don’t know what else.

  There was supposed to be a P-E-P rally next Tuesday, but it got postponed because of me. Kids like rallies more than assemblies, and I wonder how many people will know it’s my fault it got postponed.

  Probably everyone.

  I never want to go to school again.

  I wonder if I can fake being sick until summer vacation.

  AVA IN AGONY

  2/19

  5:30 P.M. IN THE LIVING ROOM

  DEAR DIARY,

  Dad asked if I wanted to go to the Great Wall or the Kahiki. I said I’d rather stay home with Taco, and could we order in tacos? Dad said sure and sat down next to me on the sofa.

  “Thanks, though,” I said, and Dad patted my knee as if I were seven. He also said he had a cat joke for me:

  Question: What’s the difference between a cat and a comma?

  Answer: A cat has claws at the end of its paws, and a comma means a pause at the end of a clause.

  I tried to smile, but I couldn’t, partly because the joke wasn’t very funny and partly because I’m feeling too mopey.

  Kelli once said her family likes to dine out on Friday, and what if I ran into Maybelle and Zara and Kelli in a restaurant, having a great time without me? I couldn’t take it.

  AVA, AILING

  PS I thought I was Ava the Wise, but I am…otherwise.

  2/19

  BEDTIME

  DEAR DIARY,

  At dinner, while we ate takeout tacos, Pip said that her poster got ruined too—and so did Bea’s! Someone gave Mona Lisa a beard and wrote “Wiggle Wiggle Wiggle” on her chest! And someone drew inappropriate private parts on Bea’s deer! And boogies under the deer’s nose! And someone gave Aesop sunglasses and a goatee!

  I said the art poster vandals probably weren’t the same girls who ripped down my FLASH poster because those girls would never have written “Wiggle Wiggle Wiggle” on Mona Lisa.

  Pip said, “So true, Nancy Drew!” which she used to say back when she was reading an old series about a girl detective. (Now she’s reading a series about a lady detective. It starts with A Is for Alibi and B Is for Burglar, and there’s a new book for every letter.)

  We talked about who might have written on the posters.

  We did not talk about stupid Kelli’s stupid sleepover.

  Are Maybelle and Zara and Kelli hanging out in Kelli’s pink room? Are they eating chocolate-covered strawberries? Are they talking about Chuck? Are they talking about me?

  I wish I were having the sleepover.

  And I wish Chuck weren’t Kelli’s boyfriend, because if he weren’t taken, maybe
I could call him and he could help me feel better. I keep thinking about Rorie, and I do get some of what she and those girls were saying. But did they have to gang up on me five to one???

  A IS FOR ALONE

  2/19

  TWENTY MINUTES LATER

  DEAR DIARY,

  I wanted to talk, so I walked into Pip’s room and said, “Life is not fair.”

  Pip said, “Number one, you should learn to knock. Number two, I’m on the phone with Ben. And number three, life is fairly fair for you and me. We have food and shelter, and you should have more perspective.”

  I made a face and left. She didn’t used to have any perspective, so who is she to criticize?

  Writing things down usually helps, but tonight I also wanted to talk. I’m only human. And only eleven.

  AVA, ARRRGGGH

  PS I wish I’d never written those Tanya Tips. I’m having a hard time not giving myself a hard time!

  2/20

  MORNING, SQUEAKY CLEAN

  DEAR DIARY,

  I’m glad it’s Saturday. I don’t have it in me to even think about going back to school yet.

  I don’t even feel like writing in you.

  I feel like soaking in a hot bath until it’s not hot anymore, then draining out the water, turning the hot water back on, and taking an even longer bath.

  But I already did that! I took the world’s longest bath! By the time I got out, my fingers and toes were crinkly. (I’m lucky Pip didn’t want to shower right after me, because when I use up all the hot water, she loses all perspective.)

  The thing is, it’s upsetting to have people upset with me. I wish I could wash away the bad feelings!

  And it’s hard to have “perspective,” because I mostly see things through my own two eyes. Doesn’t everyone?