Pumpkin Spice Secrets

by Hillary Homzie

  “I totally agree. Monday morning it is! Let’s go to the mall on Saturday.”

  “Perfect,” I say, thinking, as long as it’s not the same time that Jacob wants to get together with me in the library.

  “We can buy stuff for decorating and for my slumber party,” says Jana.

  “It’s going to be a birthday weekend!”

  “Exactly,” says Jana. “I feel good!”

  “I feel good too!” I say.

  “I feel gooder!” Jana says even louder.

  “I feel extra good!” I say, and try to really mean it.

  Which isn’t too hard. I’m standing with my best friend. I like being a seventh grader way more than being a sixth grader when I didn’t even know where the bathrooms were or how to get to the cafeteria. The sun, honey yellow, streams through a bank of windows. The sky is clear and blue. And I stand, in the middle of the hallway, with my best friend, authentically happy on a skip-through-the-hall day.

  Later, when I’m home and just back from soccer practice, Mom makes me unload and load the dishwasher. Which is the grossest job ever, because the dishes piled up in the sink have fried eggs stuck to them. And Morty begs for scraps the whole time. But suddenly it doesn’t seem so bad when Jacob texts me. Hey. How are you doing?

  Good, I write back, And start to laugh when I think about my earlier conversation with Jana. Actually I’m pretty sick of staring at dishes. Since I’m unloading the dishwasher. What I didn’t write was I have to unload the dishwasher even though it’s Elvie’s job. She’s never around.

  Then I freeze. Did Jacob really want to hear about chores?

  But when I look down at my screen, I smile. Jacob wrote back, I’m washing my parents’ cars and the dog all at the same time. My dog Reilly loves the hose. He whines the minute he sees me pick it up.

  I respond, My dad is obsessed with hoses. He bought this thing at the hardware store that keeps the hose neat when you wind it up.

  Sounds like the perfect present for Reilly lol

  Do you celebrate your dog’s birthday? I ask.

  Yes!

  Same! I write. My dad always gets our dog treats and chew toys.

  Fifteen minutes pass as I set the dinner table and tidy up the coat area. Jacob hasn’t texted back. I’m guessing—or, rather, hoping—that he’s about to eat dinner like me.

  Still, today seems like the best day in the whole world.

  “Mom, you’re the best!” I say to my mom, who’s filling a water pitcher.

  Dad looks up from dressing the salad. “You’re in a good mood.”

  “Yes,” I say, “That salad looks awesome.”

  “Thanks.” He smiles. “I made my own dressing.”

  Mom sets the water pitcher on the table. “We’re going to be eating without Elvie.” She frowns.

  “Let me guess,” I say, settling down into my chair. “She’s got a study group.”

  “Exactly,” says Dad, sitting across from me. “Your sister’s very busy these days.”

  “Don’t worry,” I pipe up. “I’ll eat more than my share. We had a hard workout at practice. Seriously, you guys, thanks for making such a wonderful meal.”

  I breathe in the smell of the pasta sauce and the Parmesan cheese. Mmmm.

  “Wow, you’re in a very good mood,” notes Dad.

  “Yes,” I say. “Very, very good.”

  Chapter Ten:

  SHOP TALK

  A halo of light shimmers around my phone from the full moon shining through my window. I sit up in bed.

  I’m staring at a new series of texts between Jacob and me. We texted some more after dinner, and then again a few minutes ago. Of course, I’m not supposed to have my phone in bed. It’s a family rule. Cells turned off and charging by 9:00 p.m. But tonight feels like a good reason for an exception.

  Him: hey again

  Me: hey

  Him: wanna go to the library on Sunday afternoon?

  Me: ok

  Him: cool

  Me:

  Him: night

  Me: night

  Sighing happily, I slide down into my comforter and study the texts for the ninety-ninth time. I so want to tell someone about this. But I can’t. I just can’t.

  Obviously trying to not like Jacob is not working. But liking Jacob only in my head is weird. It’s equivalent to having a crush on a movie star. The truth is, I’m hoping that Jana’s crush will eventually wear down.

  Jana and Jacob. J&J. It’s too perfect. It sounds like a clothing brand or a cool shoe store. They sound like they belong together. Oh, stop it, Maddie, I tell myself. Your mind is going into nightmare mode.

  I yawn, staring up at the ceiling, where I have glow-in-the-dark stars. Only the lights have been off so long that they’re not glowing any more. When I was younger, like in second grade, I used to get scared when that happened. Back then I used to be scared about a lot of things. Okay, I’m still scared. About not doing well on tests with time pressure, speaking in public, and telling Jana how I really feel about Jacob.

  My phone pings. It’s Jacob sending me a goodnight emoji. My finger must have accidentally turned off the silencer.

  Did my parents hear? I swallow hard and hold my breath, but …

  Nothing. They’re asleep. Dad’s snoring, and Mom probably has in her earplugs. I put the phone back on vibrate mode.

  I glance down at my glowing screen and snuggle up next to it.

  Footsteps shuffle down the hallway. Mom bangs into my still-darkened room and says in a high-pitched, very loud voice, “Maddie. What. Are. You. Doing?”

  Uh oh.

  Mom doesn’t get angry very often, but when she does, she spews like a shaken-up soda can. Like that day Mom was freaking about Elvie. I push the covers over my head, groaning, “Mom, I’m sleeping.”

  “I don’t think so. I heard you.”

  “I’m asleep,” I say, curling my pillow around my head.

  “Do you realize what time it is?”

  Rolling over, I open one eye and glance at the clock. It’s 11:18 p.m. “It’s really not crazy late.”

  “Yes it is. You were on your phone!” Mom’s eyes are all squinty, like she doesn’t completely want to open them. And neither do I.

  “I wasn’t,” I say.

  She takes a deep breath. “Don’t lie to me, Maddie. Things will be much easier if you just tell the truth. I’m tired and I’d like to go to bed.”

  So I tell her that, yes, I was texting Jana. I don’t tell her the other part—that I was also texting a boy. But at this hour, I could have been texting with the Pope and Mom wouldn’t care. This is not good.

  Chapter Eleven:

  THE PUNISHMENT

  “Your parents did what?” asks Jana as we stand by our lockers the next morning. It’s five minutes before the advisory bell rings.

  “They took away my phone,” I say. “Until tomorrow.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Jana says loudly over the chattering crowd. Then she nods at Torielle and Katie, who shuffle toward us in the hallway. “Maddie got her phone taken away for a day,” Jana explains to them.

  “Wow, I wish my parents were that intelligent,” says Torielle. “Just a day? My parents only ever take mine away for a week. Imagine a punishment that normal.”

  Despite how I’m feeling, Torielle makes me laugh.

  “It does suck, though,” says Katie, stepping over someone’s fallen red water bottle being kicked around in the hallway. She gives me a hug and so do Jana and Torielle.

  Torielle grabs my hands. “Maddie, you can borrow my phone during school.”

  “And mine,” says Katie.

  “And mine,” says Jana, shoving a stick of gum in her mouth as she waves at a few girls we all know. The smell of cinnamon makes me blink. Walking toward our advisories, we pass a poster for a babysitting class where you can learn CPR. Now, that’s something I should know, since I might need to revive myself someday from all this stress I’ve caused myself.

  I can’t bor
row any of their phones—because I can’t text Jacob from their phones.

  My stomach clenches as I think about lunch. What if Jacob mentions something about us texting each other? And what if he tries to text me this morning? He’ll think I’m blowing him off.

  I blink back tears as a bunch of boys in matching high tops cut in front of me. I say to my friends, “Thanks for the phone offer. Seriously. But I’m going to be fine.” Then I whisper, “Is my all face blotchy?”

  “No.” Torielle puts her hand on my shoulder. “You look fine.”

  “Don’t lie. Would you let me take a photo of this”—I point to my face—“on Snappypic?” The warning bell rings, and more kids weave around us.

  “Maybe a little blotchy,” admits Jana as she ducks into her advisory.

  “But,” says Katie, “it gives your face some color.”

  And as dumb as it sounds, everyone being nice about my blotchy red face and saying they’ll let me borrow their phones makes the not-very-good start to my day a whole lot better.

  Just two days ago, we had been an all-girl table. Four friends discussing Jana’s karaoke slumber party in detail, or whatever. But now we seem to be officially a boy-girl table. Actually, some of the long tables are mixed, but it’s sort of accidental, where a group of guys bumps up against a group of girls.

  But at the round tables, nothing is accidental. It’s weird, but to other people’s eyes, we probably look like the popular table—a group of girls and boys who always seem to be flirting and laughing about something.

  And that’s true. But we’re still ourselves.

  Right now the six of us are arguing about which teachers at Northborough Middle are the weirdest.

  “I think Mr. Dupree, the French teacher, is the weirdest,” says Torielle. “His pants are so tight and once Mason Bergeron caught him picking his nose. He just smiled and went, ‘oui, la booger!’”

  “I think Mrs. Gilligan wins,” says Katie. “She’s always licking her braces, like she likes them a little too much.”

  Jacob shakes her head. “I’m voting for Mrs. Haber.”

  “Really?” says Lukas. “Her?”

  Jacob shrugs. “I don’t know. I’m just being random. I really don’t know the teachers well enough.”

  “I think she’s nice and so pretty,” Jana says. “And doesn’t give a lot homework.”

  “Exactly,” says Torielle. “She’s normal, which at our school makes her weird.”

  That cracks everyone up. Then I hear Jana whispering to Jacob. “Put away your phone,” she says, nodding toward Mr. Gottfried. The vice-principal’s walkie-talkie crackles as usual. His eyes sweep the tables, looking for kids who are throwing food or on their phones.

  Jacob’s on his phone right now, looking at some game.

  Jana grabs it from him. “If you’re not going to put it away, I am,” she says, but she’s not angry. She’s teasing.

  I don’t like the idea of her having Jacob’s phone one little bit.

  “Mr. Gottfried is coming!” urges Torielle. “He’s five tables away and he’s doing his electronics sweep.”

  “Put Jacob’s phone in your backpack,” says Katie.

  Mr. Gottfried finishes his sweep of our side of the cafeteria and then heads to the opposite side.

  “Okay,” says Jacob. “Time to give me my phone back.”

  “I don’t have your phone.” Jana giggles. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  I start to panic. What if Jana goes through his phone and sees our texts? Technically, it’s okay that we’ve exchanged numbers. After all, we’re debate partners. But she’ll see that we weren’t exactly just talking about Social Studies.

  I move to grab it, but Jana’s faster. She holds up the phone. “Oh, you mean this phone, right?” She waggles it.

  She peers at the screen.

  “Hmm, let me see. Who do you have in your contacts?”

  Oh. No.

  “The screen is locked,” Jana says.

  Phew.

  Jacob grins. “Give it back.”

  “Tell me your passcode,” says Jana.

  “Yeah, right,” says Jacob.

  “Is it your dog’s name?” Jana says. “Actually, I don’t even need to type to get into your phone.”

  “How?” asks Jacob, curious.

  “Talent,” says Jana. “It’s this new app where you just think your thoughts and your phone texts for you.”

  “Really?” ask Lukas.

  “Yeah, it’s called mind reader.” Jana giggles again.

  “I want that,” says Torielle, and I’m smiling so hard the peas in my mouth are about to roll out and down the table. I’m relieved. There’s no way that Jana is going to be able to see my texts to Jacob.

  “Where can you get the mind reader?” asks Lukas in a serious voice.

  “She’s kidding, you guys,” says Torielle. I burst out laughing and then I have to hold it in because I’m kind of snorting and some of the chocolate milk I just drank is tickling my nose. I know it’s just nerves.

  The guys crack up, mostly at me sounding like a goose. Jana, Torielle, and Katie are laughing too.

  “You guys,” says Lukas, putting down a slice of pizza. “I thought that the mind-reader app was real, and I really, really wanted it.”

  “What if I told you this fork is a mind reader?” I say.

  Lukas pushes back his chair. “I’d say awesome.”

  “Has anyone noticed how we’re always talking about utensils at this table?” points out Jacob.

  “Yes,” says Torielle. “But not ordinary utensils. Sporks and mind readers.”

  We all crack up some more.

  During Social Studies, Ms. Yoon hands out debate forms that we have to fill out and turn in for a grade, then gives us the rest of class to work with our partners. There’s an opening statement and a rebuttal form, and then a form for each of us to list our five sources.

  “It’s a lot,” I say, looking at the two forms. I start reading the opening statement worksheet aloud. “The opening has to have a hook, such as a statistic or quote, that grabs the audience. You have to clearly define your position in the debate, and then provide a minimum of three arguments supporting your position, backed up by facts or statistics.” I put down the sheet. “Plus, there’s the rebuttal sheet. And the bibliography info.”

  “Phew,” says Jacob.

  I shake my head. “I only found two sources at the school library the other day.”

  “Don’t worry. We’ll find what we need on Sunday.”

  “Yeah,” I say, and I can’t help grinning. As if I’d forgotten we were planning on meeting at the public library Sunday afternoon!

  “By the way, there’s something I wanted to let you know,” I say. “I got my phone taken away. So I won’t be able to respond to texts until tomorrow morning.”

  “Are your parents really strict?” he asks.

  “Sort of.” I shrug, embarrassed.

  “Mine too.” He gives me his lopsided grin.

  “So you understand?”

  “Oh yeah,” says Jacob.

  Then I see Jana heading right toward us like she has some sort of radar. On the other side of the room, Fiona sits at her desk, furiously scribbling something into her notebook, but she keeps staring at me too, like she knows something is happening.

  My face gets warm.

  Jacob looks up at Jana, grinning. “Well, if it isn’t the enemy.”

  Jana grins back at Jacob. “Well, if it isn’t the con side.”

  He gives her a thumbs-up. “Yup, that’s us. The cons.” He glances over at me like we’re two bank robbers who are about to pull off a heist or something.

  “What’s going on?” I say, keeping my voice casual.

  “I want to talk about something,” she says to me.

  “Right now?”

  She nods. “Let’s go over by the pencil sharpener.”

  Together we shuffle over to the sharpener, and my heart starts thumpi
ng. “So, what’s up?” I ask.

  “I think you should do the rebuttal and go against me,” Jana says.

  “The rebuttal? No way. I was planning on doing the opener. You have to make up the rebuttal on the spot. I mean, Ms. Yoon says you can anticipate some stuff. But still, no. Just no.”

  Jana sighs heavily. “Do you really want to go right after Fiona? She’s on the debate team. Just like Jacob.” She points her chin over in his direction.

  “No, I don’t want to go after Ms. Debate herself. I actually don’t want to go at all. You know that.”

  “Look, I don’t want to go after Jacob.” Jana leans in closer to me. “We can go up against each other and it’ll be just fine. We both know we love each other. Let Jacob go up against Fiona, his cousin. It’ll be better. They’re both debate people anyway.”

  “Well, I don’t know.” I look back at Jacob, wondering what he’ll think. “I might get nervous, since we’re friends.”

  “So? You’re going to get nervous anyway. Do it for me. Please.” She clasps her hands together. “Pretty please with whipped cream, rainbow sprinkles, and a cherry on top?”

  “Oh, all right.” I sigh. “I’ll do it. How can I say no to my best friend?”

  Jana throws her arms around me. “You’re the best, seriously.”

  “Sure,” I say, thinking, I’m not the best—I’m excited about meeting up with Jacob at the library, even though you have a crush on him. No, I’m not really the best friend at all.

  “What did Jana want?” asks Jacob when I slide back into my chair.

  I explain how she wants me to do the rebuttal.

  “I’m cool with that,” he says. “I’m actually happy to take on Fiona. I know her well, so I’ll be able to attack. It’ll be just like Christmas morning at Grandma’s!” He puts up his arms like claws and makes a hissing sound.

  I giggle.

  “We’re going to devour the pro team. They’re in big trouble,” says Jacob.

  I can’t bear to tell him that it’s probably the opposite. We’re the team that’s in big trouble. All because of me.