Secret Keeper Girl Fiction Series

by Dannah K. Gresh

  My thoughts were interrupted by the beeeeep of the intercom.

  The secretary’s voice came squeaking into the classroom. “Mr. Picadilly, would you please have Yuzi Ukachi come to the front office?”

  “I’ll send her down,” Mr. Picadilly responded. Then he turned to me and said, “You can give me your homework later.”

  I left the classroom as several voices sang out, “Busted!” Mr. Picadilly was telling them all to shush as the door swung shut behind me.

  Great! Now what am I being accused of?

  “Have a seat,” the secretary told me as soon as I arrived. But I had only just started to lower myself into the chair when Principal Butter opened his door and said, “Yuzi, would you come in please?”

  I walked into his office. This room held no good memories for me.

  Sue Kenworth turned her red head to look at me. What is she doing in here? Trevor was sitting next to her, head drooped. Mrs. Kenworth gave me a sad smile as Principal Butter said, “Well, Yuzi, it seems there’s some apologizing to be done.”

  Mrs. Kenworth and Principal Butter explained that Trevor was the one who pulled the fire alarm, which I had already figured out. I kept glancing at Trevor. He looked like a helium balloon five days after a party, and it was obvious he’d been crying. The more the adults said, the lower he slumped in his seat. It was hard to stay mad at him as he wilted like steamed spinach.

  When they had finished, Mrs. Kenworth said, “Trevor, go ahead.”

  Trevor took a deep breath, but didn’t raise his head. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

  “Oh, you’d better do better than that, young man,” his mom said sharply.

  “I’m sorry I let you get in trouble for pulling the fire alarm.” He finally looked up. “And I’m sorry for acting like a …” “Weasel,” Mrs. Kenworth filled in.

  Trevor frowned at his mom. “… weasel, and being too …” “Chicken,” she prompted.

  Trevor sighed again. “ … too chicken to take responsibility for what I did.”

  I stood there for a second, not knowing what to say. I thought about how angry and upset I had been the last time I was in this room. I thought about Trevor talking to me in class and then about him sitting here like a dejected blob, and I realized everyone had been right. Staying mad wouldn’t make anything better. It would only make me feel worse.

  “It’s no big deal, Trevor,” I said. “I mean, I can’t believe you were going to try to get away with it, but I’ll try not to stay mad at you. By the way,” I added. “I knew it was you. I figured it out yesterday when you were covering up the heart on your shoe.”

  “You’re the one who did that?” Trevor asked.

  “No,” I said, thinking of how my Secret Keeper Girl Club had come up with that one without me. “But it helped prove it was you.” I left Toni out of it, not wanting to make things between them worse than they already were.

  A few minutes later, after Trevor and Mrs. Kenworth had left, Principal Butter said, “So, Yuzi. It turns out you did see someone in that hall after all. I’ve called your parents, and I’ve also let Mrs. Chickory know that we’ve found who really did it.” He looked me in the eyes. “I’m sorry I gave you detention for something you did not do. And I hope we didn’t completely destroy your opinion of our school. It was a hard way to start the year.” No kidding.

  After school, I explained the details of how Trevor got caught as Kate, Danika, and Toni huddled around me in our Secret Keeper Girl hang out, Mrs. V’s room. She was listening, too.

  “Apparently, since he played so terribly last night, some of the guys on his team were yelling at him in the parking lot later,” I said.

  “One of the guys told Trevor that he’d have to do more than pull a stupid fire alarm if he wanted to prove he could kick better than a girl.” I looked at Toni and laughed. “I guess they were talking about you. Anyway, they didn’t know Trevor’s mom was in the car nearby. She heard the boys, jumped out of the car, and flipped out on them!”

  We all laughed, imagining Mrs. Kenworth, with her crazy red hair, ripping into a bunch of middle school football players.

  “They probably almost wet themselves!” Kate laughed.

  “Well, I guess Trevor got suspended for a few days,” I said.

  “It’s about time!” Toni said.

  “Score one for the Secret Keeper Girl Club! Woo hoo!” Danika squealed, jumping up and down.

  “Yeah,” I said kind of quietly. “Only the weird thing is, I thought it would feel really good when Trevor got caught and punished.”

  “Are you saying you feel sorry for him?” Toni asked.

  I looked down at my hands. “Not exactly. It’s like, I know he needs to be punished for what he did, but he was really broken up about it when he was apologizing … like he really meant it.”

  Kate said, “That’s pretty cool, Yuzi. He could have been a real jerk about it. Come to think of it, you could have been a real jerk about it, too, but you weren’t.”

  Mrs. V finally spoke up. “Sometimes what we think will feel good in the moment isn’t actually what will satisfy us as time goes on. Forgiveness is always better than sitting and waiting for someone to get what we think they deserve.”

  I nodded my head. “I guess that’s what my mom was trying to get into my brain all along. You know, there’s lots of times where my parents just don’t get it, but sometimes they’re actually right.”

  “You know, Yuzi, you could tell your mom that. It might make her feel good,” Mrs. V said.

  “Yeah. Maybe I will. Anyway, thanks, guys, for helping me with everything,” I said. “I couldn’t have done it without my Secret Keeper Girls!”

  Toni said, “No problema!” Then we piled into a group hug.

  As we started talking about other things, I pulled a notebook out of my schoolbag. Something fell out. It was my “List of Terribles.”

  I looked it over, thinking how much better things are now. It had finally been proven that I didn’t pull the alarm. I have real friends who care about me and believed me when other people didn’t. And I’m not feeling quite as bad about moving here.

  So now I’m making a new list, a “List of Wonderfuls.” Dumb title, I know. But I can’t think of another word for the opposite of “terribles.”

  The first thing on my new list is the same as the first thing on my old list: Moving to Marion, Ohio.

  Okay, so maybe I’m not going to hate this town.

  Girl Gab About Forgiveness

  Hello, Secret Keeper Girl! Hope you had a blast reading about Yuzi and her insane quest to solve the mystery of the real fire alarm puller. As you may have noticed, she also learned about forgiveness. Did you? Let’s talk about it.

  Gab About It:

  Hopefully, you can see that verse in the pages of Yuzi’s False Alarm! Lets look at it really closely together.

  One thing Yuzi learned for sure is that it’s good to get advice from your mom and dad, your friends (Danika, Kate, and Toni), and even your teachers (Mrs. V) when you’ve been wrong ed! It would be awesome if you could take a minute to pray with your mom about the “Trevor” in your life. Ask her advice on what to do. Ask God to give you the grace to live Colossians 3:13.

  Other books in the

  Secret Keeper Girl Series

  Yuzi’s False Alarm

  “T” is for Antonia

  Just Call Me Kate

  Danika’s Totally Terrible Toss

  The Legend of the Purple Flurp

  Dannah Gresh

  author of Secret Keeper Girl

  Moody Publishers

  CHICAGO

  © 2008 by

  DANNAH GRESH

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission in writing from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Scripture quotations marked The Message are from The Message, copyright © by Eugene H. Peterson 1993, 1994, 1995. Used by permissio
n of NavPress Publishing Group.

  Interior design: JuliaRyan | www.DesignByJulia.com

  Cover and Illustrations: Andy Mylin

  Some images: © 2008 Jupiter Images Corporation

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Gresh, Dannah.

  Danika’s totally terrible toss : the legend of the Purple Flurp / Dannah Gresh ; [illustrations by Andy Mylin].

  p. cm. – (Secret Keeper Girl series)

  Summary: After accidentally hitting Mrs. Hefty with her brown bag lunch, sixth-grader Danika, a popular overachiever, winds up in after-school detention, where she meets three other girls who join her in forming the “Secret Keeper Girl Club.” Includes a mother/daughter Girl Gab assignment.

  ISBN 978-0-8024-8702-5

  [1. Clubs–Fiction. 2. Middle schools–Fiction. 3. Schools–Fiction. 4. Popularity–Fiction. 5. Christian life—Fiction. 6. Friendship—Fiction.] I. Mylin, Andy, ill. II. Title.

  PZ7.G8633Dan 2008

  [Fic]–dc22

  2008026481

  We hope you like this book from Moody Publishers. We want to give you books that help you think and figure out what truth really looks like. If you liked this and want more information, you and/or your mom can go to www.moodypublishers.com or write to …

  Moody Publishers

  820 N. LaSalle Boulevard

  Chicago, IL 60610

  1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2

  Printed in the United States of America

  To my Lou, Lou

  who helped me write this!

  CHAPTER 1

  Danika’s Purple Flurp

  Tonight I’m going to win the Miss Teeny Pop Pageant.

  There’s no easy way to explain that absurd thought except to say that I’m growing up in Marion, Ohio. It’s the Popcorn Capital of the World, and life revolves around the annual Popcorn Festival.

  “Good luck tonight, Teeny Pop!” mocked Chad Ferner, slamming his locker shut. Ferner was once the awkward boy I’d survived second grade square dancing with. He wasn’t so awkward anymore with his wavy chestnut hair and deep blue eyes. We have never liked each other, though, since those totally embarrassing do-si-dos.

  “Here she is …” he sang, waving his arms dramatically toward me to the tune of the Miss America theme song, “…she’s Miss Teeny Pop!” Everyone in the hallway was laughing, and I couldn’t decide if they were laughing at him or at me.

  I glared really hard until I was sure that my dark-brown Asian eyes might possibly pop from their sockets. When Ferner didn’t back off, neither did I. I leaned in to his face until I could smell the Nerds on his breath.

  “Chillax, Da-neeka,” Ferner said, mispronouncing my name on purpose. He always does that.

  Then, as suddenly as he disrupted my day, he slipped silently away. I watched him walk down the hall and through the big red doors that led to the microcosmic world of the Rutherford B. Hayes Middle School cafeteria.

  I opened my locker and carefully placed my Advanced Pre-Algebra textbook to the far left of the top shelf, right next to Biology for the Young Scholar. Arranging my books in alphabetical order seemed only natural to me, but Mom says it’s odd even if my IQ rivals that of Einstein. I knew he was really messy based on those famous pictures of him and his wacky hair. I didn’t want to end up like that, so I alphabetize my books … and my nail polish.

  Adjusting my bright yellow headband, I checked my look in the pink marabou-trimmed mirror hanging on the door of my locker. For a moment, I dreamed of what my black-as-night hair would look like topped by the Teeny Pop crown.

  It doesn’t matter what Chad Ferner or anyone else thinks, I want to win that crown! I thought.

  My mom entered me into my first Popcorn Festival pageant when I was six. That was the same year they found out just how smart I was, and Mom thought it would be good if she and Dad let me do something “frilly and superficial” to “balance me out.” Those were the actual words my dad used. I remember.

  So, that year I dressed up in a golden yellow dress for the modeling competition and then, like a can of Jolly Green Giant peas for the commercial presentation. I sang, “Peas, say you’ll love me!” It doesn’t get much more frilly or superficial than that! I got first prize in my age group, as I have every single year since then. This is the first year I’m old enough to win the big title, Miss Teeny Pop, and I want it so badly!

  After all, this year’s big prize is four front-row seats to the Alayna Rayne concert. She’s a totally fab singer who sells out concerts in minutes. Even my dad, who’s richer than Daddy Warbucks and would pay anything, hasn’t been able to get tickets. He’s tried five times. Alayna’s coming to Cleveland in two weeks and I really want those tickets.

  When I had decided that every hair was in place, I grabbed my hot pink and lime green Vera Bradley lunch bag and a brown sack out of my locker. I slammed the door and headed for the cafeteria. The brown sack had an extra-special dessert. Inside was a container filled with Mom’s legendary Purple Flurp. It’s a legend because it’s the only food to ever win the Popcorn Festival blue ribbon that didn’t have popcorn as an ingredient. It’s that good!

  “Hey, Laney,” I said sitting down next to the most popular girl in sixth grade, blonde-haired, blue-eyed, genetically perfect Laney Douglas. She was wearing all pink, which she says is her “signature color.”

  “Hey,” said Laney and her stuck-like-glue sidekick Riley Peterson. They always say hello in unison. If I didn’t like them, it would honestly make me toss my cookies.

  When I first stepped into the jungle of middle school, I quickly learned the first lesson of survival: you’re not defined by who you are, but by who is sitting next to you at lunchtime. That week, Rachel, Chondra, Kiley, Abigail, and Kelsey—the other regulars who are seated with us today—took a vote led by Laney and Riley. They decided I could sit with them.

  Our conversations never go any deeper than the pink clothes on Laney’s back and the topic of boys. In a crunch, we talk about the food on our table.

  “So, like, what exactly is in powdered soup?” asked Laney. She watched me pour the energy-boosting powder my mom had packed for me into a Thermos of hot water. “Hmmm?” I said. “I dunno.”

  “Potato starch.” I began reading the packet out loud. “Salt. Dried minced onion. Powdered pork?”

  “Whoa!” exclaimed Laney. “Bad ending for that pig!”

  We laughed much louder and longer than we should have. Why? Because we knew everyone in sixth grade was watching our table. As I fake-laughed, I caught the gaze of Katie Harding walking toward us. Our moms are practically best friends. I guess we used to be, too.

  Katie was wearing a really cool T-shirt with a red heart on it over a striped long-sleeve shirt. I thought it looked really great. Apparently, Laney didn’t think so.

  “I wonder where she shops … UglyRUs?” Laney said almost loud enough for Katie to hear.

  “I think it’s UglyRHer!” whispered Riley.

  The whole table laughed again really hard. Keep walking, Katie! I pleaded in my head. I put my left hand up to my forehead like a visor and looked down. Keep walking!

  She took the clue and abruptly turned and walked to a table where she sat all by herself. She looked lonely. I suddenly felt sick.

  “Hey, Da-neeka,” teased a guy’s voice from behind me. I was going to ignore it, but when I felt someone flick my hair, I looked back. Ferner!

  “Hey,” I responded coolly. He moved on. “He likes you,” whispered Laney, leaning across the table and into me.

  My eyes grew wide in fear.

  “You like him,” she accused.

  “No way!” I said. Dad would kill me if I got boy crazy. I might as well start carving the tombstone.

  “We just danced together …” I started to explain about square dancing in second grade and hating it, but Laney didn’t let me finish.

  “You danced together,” she teased. “Hey girls! Danika and Ferner danced together!”

  The
laughter erupted even more loudly this time, drawing the attention of the world’s most bizarre lunch lady, Mrs. Hefty. She lives up to her name quite easily. I’m not sure what body mass index really is, but I think Mrs. Hefty has it. The seams on her white uniform work really hard to hold everything in place.

  “What’s going on over here?” she asked as she waddled over to our table.

  No one answered her.

  “Was that joyful laughter?” she asked. She didn’t stop for an answer, but started talking at a breakneck pace like she always does when she gives her infamous Cafeteria Life Lessons. “There is joyful laughter. Yes. That is laughing with people, and then there’s another kind. That’s when you laugh at people. We can’t have any of that in my cafeteria. Can we? No, no, no. No we can’t!”

  She drew out that last word and when she cut it off with a sharp “t,” she sprayed enough spittle from her wet lips to shine my dad’s red sports car.

  After a moment of staring at us to make her point, her cheeks burst into red bulbs as she smiled. Then she waddled off.

  Laney quickly scrawled something on a scrap of paper and passed it to me. In curly handwriting it said …

  “Mrs. Hefty is a big _______.”

  Just as I read it and imagined what the blank would say, I felt the chill of a shadow looming over me. Mrs. Hefty was back.

  “Well, Ms. McAllister, let me see that note there!” She paused to read it. “Oh, troublesome! Why don’t you finish that sentence for me?”

  “But, I-I d-didn’t write it,” I stammered.

  “I didn’t ask if you wrote it,” cooed Mrs. Hefty as she tried her best to be angry. She shook the note in her hand for effect. “I asked you to finish it.”

  “But!” I pleaded.

  She just stared down at me.

  “Ummm … well … Mrs. Hefty is a big …” I stalled for time drawing my answer out, then I suddenly blurted out a terrible, no-good word …