Do-Over

by Christine Hurley Deriso

  “Very funny,” I mumbled. “There’s nothing wrong with being smart, you know.”

  “Granted,” Martin said. “I like smart. I am smart. Not as smart as you, but then, who is? I mean, there’s smart, and then there’s freakishly smart.”

  My heart thumped faster. “Are you making fun of me?”

  “No,” he said. “I’m just confused about who you really are. It’s hard to get a handle on you.”

  We walked on in silence. I didn’t know what to say.

  “Look,” Martin finally said, “as smart as you are, don’t forget to be smart about your friends. Intelligence doesn’t carry much weight with Darcy and her clique, unless…”

  I gazed at him defensively. “Unless what?”

  “Unless they’re trying to use you.”

  “Meaning what?”

  He shrugged. “Take it from a guy who becomes very popular right before final exams.”

  My lips tightened. Darcy and her friends weren’t using me. They really were impressed by how smart I was…weren’t they? They thought it was cool, hanging out with the smartest girl in the school…didn’t they?

  Sure they did.

  I thought.

  I was relieved when we finally reached Grandma’s house. Martin headed for the backyard as I climbed the front steps. “See ya, Martin,” I said.

  “See ya, smarty,” he replied.

  TEN

  “Elsa, can we talk a minute, sweetie?”

  Uh-oh. What now? It was that night. Dad walked in and sat on the edge of my bed just as I was snuggling under the covers.

  “What’s up, Dad?”

  He folded his hands together and bounced them lightly against his knee.

  “Well…” He seemed a little nervous. “I got a call from your principal today.”

  My eyes widened. Even under normal circumstances, it was impossible for a kid to hear those words without her insides turning to jelly.

  “It seems you made quite an impression in school today,” Dad continued. “Quite an impression.”

  My stomach felt all fluttery. “What do you mean?”

  “The principal wants to talk to your former principal and compare notes. He doesn’t understand it, since the schools use the same curricula, but he thinks your old school must be more advanced than Harbin Springs.” He paused. “Or maybe you’re just far more advanced than anyone realized.”

  I gulped. “I’ve always done well in school, Dad,” I said defensively. “I make the honor roll every semester! Why is everybody making such a big deal about me being a good student?”

  Dad smiled. “Don’t be upset, honey. I’m proud of you. And you’re right, you’ve always done well in school. But the feedback I got today indicates that within the normal seventh-grade range, you’re basically…off the charts.” His eyebrows wrinkled together. “I’m not sure how….”

  “I don’t know what everyone wants from me,” I snapped, suddenly on the verge of tears.

  “Honey, honey,” Dad said soothingly, “I’m not criticizing you. I’m just trying to decide what’s best for you. The principal thinks you should take some tests and maybe skip eighth grade next year.”

  What?

  “No, Dad,” I said decisively. “Bad idea.” I was just starting to find my niche with seventh graders. Stick me in a grade with girls whose figures had already developed and I might as well tattoo “loser” on my forehead.

  “But you don’t want to be bored in school,” Dad said. “You seem to know all the material your teachers are covering. I don’t know how…. But the point is, I want you to be challenged.”

  Could a do-over help me now? I could turn back time only ten seconds, not a whole day. What had I gotten myself into? And what was happening to my perfect day? Sometimes perfect is perfectly horrible but you don’t know it yet.

  “Dad, I happened to be extra-sharp today in school,” I said with a hint of urgency in my voice. “I got lucky and knew the answers to some questions. Tomorrow, I might be brain-dead.” Actually, there was a very good chance of that. “I don’t want to skip eighth grade. Please, Dad?”

  Dad rubbed my cheek. “Nobody’s doing anything hasty,” he assured me. “You haven’t even finished a whole week in your new school yet. I think we should all take a deep breath and relax.” He smiled. “Let’s see how things go. Assuming you haven’t discovered a cure for cancer by summertime, I’m guessing you’re right where you’re supposed to be.”

  I smiled and wrapped his hand in mine.

  “We’ve had a lot of big changes lately, kiddo,” he said, winking at me. “As long as we stick together, we’ll do just fine.”

  ELEVEN

  Do-Over Day Two

  The day before, I’d felt like I was walking the red carpet. Now I felt like I was walking the plank.

  It seemed like everyone’s eyes were boring into me when I got to school. It wasn’t my imagination. Lips curled. Tongues tsked. Eyes rolled. “Show-off,” I heard someone mutter. “Egghead,” another voice said.

  So much for my Instant Popularity Plan. I didn’t get it. It had worked for Mom. I sighed. Maybe Mom wasn’t as brilliant in everyone else’s eyes as she was in Grandma’s. Or maybe she didn’t club people over the head with her intelligence the way I had. Whatever. At least Darcy and her clique still liked me better than they had before. In fact, they were waiting for me by my locker.

  “Elsa!” Darcy spat out in a loud whisper as I approached them. “I need to see your social studies homework!”

  “My what?” I asked.

  “Your social studies homework!”

  I guess my hesitation took her off guard, because she softened her approach. “It’s not like I’m going to copy or anything,” she explained, looking earnest. “It’s just that I had cheerleading practice last night and had to rush through my homework. I thought if I could borrow yours for a few minutes, I could…you know…double-check my work.”

  Martin was passing us in the hall. He gave me a knowing look. His words rang in my ears: “Intelligence doesn’t carry much weight with Darcy and her clique, unless they’re trying to use you.”

  Darcy’s attitude suddenly changed again. She was getting impatient. “We’re friends, right?” she demanded, planting her hands on her hips.

  Hmmmm. Good question.

  “Elsa!” she barked. “Friends help each other out.”

  I opened my locker and fished around for a couple of books. I turned and calmly replied, “Find me a friend and I’ll help her.”

  Darcy’s mouth dropped open.

  I grinned. I could do better than that. I rubbed my locket. “Do-over,” I said.

  Ten-second rewind.

  “Friends help each other out,” Darcy repeated.

  “What kind of a friend are you, Darcy?” I said. “You’re snotty and mean and fake. You’re just using me! I’d rather have no friends than have you as a friend.”

  The clique, stunned, looked at Darcy, whose almond-shaped eyes were narrowing into slits.

  Nah. Couldn’t risk it. I sighed. “Do-over.”

  Ten-second rewind.

  “Friends help each other out,” Darcy repeated.

  I rolled my eyes. I had my hands full today undoing my disastrous reputation as a brainiac; I’d have to deal with Darcy later.

  “Can we deal with this later?” I said. “We’re going to be late for Mr. Wright’s class.”

  Darcy looked dissatisfied but followed me along with the others to Mr. Wright’s class. My mind swam as I tried to plot my next move. I wanted to undo the damage I’d done the day before without driving Darcy and her friends away. I know, I know…with friends like that, who needs enemies? But I figured it took a few phony friendships to get the ball rolling toward being popular. I’d have to think of some new way to impress Darcy and her clique. But right now, I had some serious dumbing down to do.

  “So,” Mr. Wright said, clapping his hands together. “Tell me what you think of Scout and Jem.” He was referring to
the main characters from To Kill a Mockingbird. Our homework was to read the first four chapters.

  Which I did.

  Which no one would ever know.

  Because no matter what I thought about To Kill a Mockingbird (which I was actually enjoying), I was keeping my mouth shut.

  “Anyone?” Mr. Wright asked. Silence. His eyes zeroed in on me. “Elsa?”

  I gave an apologetic shrug.

  He looked puzzled but quickly moved on. “Darcy?” he said.

  “Huh?” said Darcy, who hadn’t been paying attention.

  Mr. Wright cleared his throat. “Jem and Scout. What do you think about Jem and Scout?”

  Darcy looked bored. “They’re fine,” she replied.

  Mr. Wright folded his arms. “Could you be a little more specific?”

  Darcy tossed her mane of hair over her shoulder. “Um…they’re…you know…they’re nice. Just a couple of regular guys.”

  Martin snickered. “Except that one of them is a girl,” he muttered.

  Darcy flashed him a cutting look. “Uh, duh,” she said. “People say ‘guys’ to mean ‘girls,’ too.”

  “Right you are,” Martin shot back. “How silly of me to think you might not have a clue what you’re talking about.”

  Darcy and her clique rolled their eyes, but I couldn’t help laughing.

  Well…maybe I could help it. As soon as I did, the clique flashed furious glares at me.

  I rubbed my locket.

  “Do-over.”

  Ten-second rewind.

  “Right you are,” Martin repeated. “How silly of me to think you might not have a clue what you’re talking about.”

  I rolled my eyes dramatically, along with the rest of the cool kids.

  Better.

  “Okay, now that we’ve established their genders…” Mr. Wright was saying, “Elsa, what can you tell us about Scout and Jem? If they moved next door to you, what would you tell your friends about them?”

  I glanced up quickly, like I hadn’t been paying attention. “Sir?” I asked, sounding bored.

  Mr. Wright looked puzzled. Then annoyed. “Share something with us about the main characters,” he said evenly.

  “Oh.” I waved a hand through the air. “They’re cute, I guess.”

  Giggles rippled through the classroom. I gulped, feeling relieved by the students’ approval but bothered by Mr. Wright’s expression.

  “Cute?” Mr. Wright repeated. “You think they’re cute? This brilliant critique from the same student who pondered the novel’s universality in class yesterday?”

  I yawned dramatically. “Sorry, Mr. Wright, but this novel isn’t exactly a thrill ride, if you know what I mean.” Nice touch. Sounded like something Darcy would say.

  Mr. Wright’s eyes narrowed. “Yesterday, you said it was one of your favorite books,” he said, coming closer, the better to see me with his big brown eyes.

  “Whatever,” I said. “Hey, if you like it, I like it. In fact, it’s my very favorite book of all time, the most awesome book ever. Is that better?” My voice dripped with sarcasm.

  The kids tittered in appreciation, which should have made me happy.

  But all I could focus on was Mr. Wright’s look of disappointment.

  TWELVE

  “Psssst! Elsa! Bathroom!”

  Gathering my books as the bell rang, I glanced up at the sound of Darcy’s hissing (she would have been more subtle if she’d shouted). Thank heaven Mr. Wright’s class was finally over. My new-and-improved moron act left me feeling drained.

  Darcy strode toward the bathroom with Jade and Carter skittering in her wake.

  “What?” I asked when I joined them in the bathroom.

  “Social studies homework,” Darcy snapped. “I need it. Now!”

  Shall I curtsy when I present it to you, Your Majesty?

  “Hey, Elsa,” Jade piped up. “Why were you suddenly brain-dead in Mr. Wright’s class? What happened to Miss Know-It-All?”

  I rolled my eyes. “If Mr. Wright’s class was any more boring, it would be on the Discovery Channel,” I said, trying to ignore the dull ache in the pit of my stomach.

  “But I thought you loved that stuff,” Jade persisted.

  I winked. “I just wanted to impress the teacher. I’m over it now.”

  Darcy seemed to have forgotten why she’d summoned me to the bathroom. She was perched on the counter by the mirror, smudging something shimmery and pastel-colored on her eyelids.

  She glanced at me and curled her lip. “Wanna borrow some makeup?” she asked.

  “Yeah, Elsa,” Jade coaxed. “You could be…you know…kinda cute…if you just did something with yourself.”

  Carter and Darcy nodded. “It’s not that she’s a dog or anything,” Darcy murmured as if I wasn’t in the room. “It’s just…” She turned from the mirror long enough to study me from head to toe, then raised a single eyebrow and slowly shook her head.

  Jade and Carter mmmm’d in agreement.

  “Here.” Darcy had turned back to the mirror and was holding an arm straight out in my general direction. I looked at the plastic container with a dozen gooey colors of eye shadow.

  I’d never worn makeup before—Dad would freak—but what the heck.

  I squeezed next to Darcy in front of the mirror, though she didn’t budge an inch for me, and began dabbing pale pink shadow over my eyes.

  “Eeeeewww!” Darcy moaned. “That color is seriously atrocious on you.”

  The clique cackled.

  I rubbed my locket.

  “Do-over.”

  Ten-second rewind—just enough time for the pink stuff to disappear from my eyes.

  Darcy handed me the makeup again. This time, when I joined her at the mirror, I gave her a little hip shove. “Some room, please?” I said, trying to sound annoyed and casual at the same time. Darcy cut her eyes at me, but she moved. The other girls looked impressed.

  I smeared on some mauve eye shadow. Definitely more mature. I hoped.

  “Gah-ross!” Darcy moaned.

  What now?

  “That color is seriously tacky on you, Elsa,” she said. “Have you ever heard of a concept called taste? It’s definitely underrated.”

  Jade and Carter giggled.

  I sighed and rubbed my locket. “Do-over.”

  I opted for a grayish color.

  Darcy sized me up, then wailed, “Yuck! I don’t think so.”

  I put my hands on my hips. “What color do you suggest, Darcy?” I said.

  “Try the green. It’ll pick up the flecks in your eyes,” she said, still staring at herself.

  I rubbed my locket.

  “Do-over.”

  Gone was the gray. I went for the green. Now would she be satisfied?

  “Gag!” Darcy said as she checked out my latest choice (the one she had no recollection of just recommending), pushing a finger into her open mouth.

  I huffed in exasperation. Was there any pleasing her?

  Jen came running into the bathroom.

  “You’ll never believe what I just heard!” she gasped.

  Darcy kept applying makeup. “What?” she asked in a bored voice.

  “I overheard Charlotte Channing say she has a crush on Eric! Darcy’s Eric! She’s going to invite him to the spring dance!”

  That got Darcy’s attention big-time. She spun around.

  Hmmmm…gossip. Of course. That was what this crowd really valued.

  I rubbed my locket.

  “Do-over!”

  Ten-second rewind.

  Jen came running into the bathroom.

  “You’ll never believe what I just heard!” she gasped.

  “You mean about Charlotte?” I said, sounding bored.

  Jen looked stunned. “You know?”

  “About her crush on Eric?” I shrugged. “Sure. She’s going to invite him to the spring dance.”

  Darcy slapped a hairbrush angrily against the sink.

  “I don’t think so!” she spu
ttered, tossing her makeup into her purse. “I think it’s time for a little heart-to-heart with Shabby Charlotte.” She jutted her chin into the air and left.

  Jade, Jen and Carter were staring at me. “How did you know about Charlotte?” Jen asked. “When I was eavesdropping, she was swearing her best friend to secrecy, saying she was the only one who knew.”

  “It’s a little obvious, don’t you think?” I said, and the girls nodded as if yes, it had been obvious all along. “Plus, I just pick up on things.”

  “Elsa,” Jade said, leaning in closer, “come with us when we go to the mall.”

  “And sit with us at lunch today!” Carter chimed in. “I’ll give you some makeup tips.”

  I smiled. Yep. Gossip was definitely worth its weight in gold with this group.

  Carter whipped out her makeup bag at lunch as we scooted our chairs around the table.

  “I told Elsa I’d give her some makeup tips,” she said to Darcy. Jade and Jen nodded.

  Darcy spun in her seat to face Carter, dropping her jaw in astonishment. “You?” she sneered at Carter. “Girlfriend, I’ve got news for you: You need some serious fashion instruction before you can even think of giving tips to poor Elsa.”

  Carter blushed and stared down at her makeup. She looked like her ego had just been flattened by a truck.

  “I think Carter always looks really pretty,” I said. Jen, Jade and Darcy rolled their eyes and gave each other knowing looks.

  Do-over? Nah….

  “First of all,” Darcy intoned, “Carter’s idea of great fashion is to totally copy me.” She gave Carter a sympathetic smile, but Carter was still staring at her makeup. “Which would be okay, Carter, except that your coloring is, like, totally different.”

  “Right, Carter,” Jade piped up. “Darcy is blond and tan, and you’re redheaded with pasty, ghost-white skin.”

  Carter looked ready to cry.

  “It’s porcelain skin,” I said softly. “Your skin is beautiful.” Carter gave me a trace of a smile.

  Darcy huffed. “Hel-lo, 4-1-1. When you put pink lipstick on ghost-white skin, you look like a peppermint stick.” Jade and Jen laughed on cue.

  “You gave me that lipstick for my birthday, Darcy,” Carter said, her voice trembling.