by Coco Simon
So you can imagine how I felt when I got my paper back and saw a big red C on it. I was totally shocked. I was dying to ask Ms. Harmeyer about it, and it was torture to wait until the end of class. When the bell rang, I ran up to her desk.
“Ms. Harmeyer, um, I have a question,” I said. “I thought I did a really good job on this. I even wrote extra. So . . .”
“It was very well written, Katie,” Ms. Harmeyer said. “But you didn’t follow the instructions. You were supposed to write the letter from the point of view of one of the characters in the book. So I had to lower your grade because of that.”
I couldn’t believe it. I was sure I had done everything just right! My eyes got hot. What was up with me lately? Everything was making me want to cry.
Ms. Harmeyer lost the serious expression she usually wore. “Katie, I understand you did exceptionally well in English last year,” she said. “But you seem to be struggling so far this year. Is everything all right?”
“I guess,” I said. “I mean, my grandma needs to have an operation, and my mom’s really worried, and then there’s this whole thing going on with this girl I used to be friends with. . . .”
Ms. Harmeyer nodded. “I thought it might be something like that. I do think you need to focus more on your schoolwork if you can, Katie. But I’ll give you a special extra-credit assignment, okay?”
“Really?” I asked. “Thank you sooo much!”
“I’ll make it easy,” she said. “Write me a poem. It can be about anything you want. It’s due next Thursday.”
I made a face. “A poem?”
“What’s the matter?” the teacher asked. “Don’t you like poetry?”
“It’s okay,” I said. “But it’s hard to write. It’s like I know what I want to say, but then I can’t make it rhyme or put the right number of beats on each line. So it comes out all wrong.”
“Not all poetry has to rhyme,” Ms. Harmeyer told me. “I’ll tell you what. You spend the weekend thinking of what you want your poem to be about. On Monday I’ll bring in some examples of different types of poetry, and we can look at them together. Then maybe you’ll feel better about poems.”
“Okay,” I said, nodding. “Thanks.”
I dreaded showing Mom the C I got on my homework, but when she saw it that night, she said basically the same thing as Ms. Harmeyer.
“I know you have a lot on your mind, Katie,” Mom said. “I’m sorry if I haven’t been acting like myself lately. I’m sure it will all calm down after Grandma’s surgery. Can you hang in there for me?”
“Don’t worry, Mom. It’s okay,” I said. “Plus, Ms. Harmeyer gave me an extra-credit assignment, so I can make up the grade.”
That night, we packed our bags, and the next morning we headed out to Grandma Carole and Grandpa Chuck’s house. We live in the same state, but they live near the ocean, in one of those places where the houses are all owned by old people—or senior citizens, as my mom always tells me to say. (For some reason, old people do not like to be called old.)
On the ride down we listened to the radio, and I stared out the window at the trees. I tried to think of an idea for my poem. I could write about cupcakes. Or maybe I could write a poem about how awesome my grandma Carole is. That would be nice.
Suddenly, as I was thinking about Grandma Carole, I got sad. What if this was the last time I got to see her, ever? Mom said she was going to be okay. I had to believe that.
When we finally got to Grandma and Grandpa’s little yellow house, Grandma Carole was standing by the open front door with a big smile on her face. I totally stopped worrying. She looked just like she always does. Her white hair was cut short, and she wore a blue T-shirt with white exercise pants, and sneakers.
“I’m so lucky! I get both of my girls this weekend!” Grandma said, hugging us.
“How are you feeling?” I asked her.
“Not bad, Katie, not bad,” Grandma said. “I’ll feel better when the surgery is over with. But between my doctors and Grandpa Chuck and your mom, I’m in very good hands.”
“Hey, I need some hugs too!” Grandpa Chuck called out. He was in the living room, his feet resting on an ottoman.
“Hope you don’t mind if I don’t get up,” he said as I bent down to hug him. “Doctor says I need one of those new-fangled bionic knees. But that won’t happen until your grandma is back on her feet.”
“That won’t take long at all,” Grandma promised.
“Grandma, I have something for you,” I said. I reached into my overnight bag and got out the get-well card that Mia had made and we all signed.
“Oh, how beautiful!” Grandma said, and her eyes got teary (maybe that’s where I get it from).
Normally, when we visit my grandparents, we go out and do stuff. We drive to the beach and then walk around, or play tennis, or go to the driving range to hit golf balls. But I guess Grandma wasn’t supposed to do that stuff, because all morning, Mom and Grandma Carole were doing paperwork, and Grandpa Chuck and I were watching TV. It was kind of boring.
Then I helped Mom make lunch, and I got an idea.
“Mom, do you think Grandma would make cupcakes with us?” I asked. “Maybe we could bring them to the nurses at her doctor’s office.”
“That’s a lovely idea,” Mom said. “But we’ve got to do all the dishes, okay?”
“Of course!” I said.
So for the rest of the afternoon we looked through Grandma’s old recipe book and picked out a recipe for banana cinnamon cupcakes. Then we made them, and Grandpa Chuck put on his favorite country music CD. We sang and joked around, and I didn’t worry about Grandma Carole one bit.
That’s the good thing about making cupcakes. While you’re doing it, it’s hard to worry about other stuff. And at the end you get something delicious to eat. Maybe if everyone baked more cupcakes, the world would be a happier place.
CHAPTER 10
A Bad Day
I ended up having fun visiting Grandma Carole and Grandpa Chuck, but I was glad when we got home on Sunday. I had lots of homework to do, and by Monday morning I was really eager to see my friends.
Since I knew I had to focus on work, I decided I had to ignore Callie as much as possible. Mostly, it was easy to do because Callie didn’t seem interested in talking to me (or even looking at me), either. Sometimes it was harder to do, especially because we had a few classes together. But Mia being in the same classes too made it okay.
Then, when I needed her most, Mia had to leave school, because she had a bad toothache. She left in the middle of social studies. I felt bad for her, but since Mia’s dentist is my mom, I knew she would be okay.
The next class was science with Ms. Chandar. That day, we were doing a lab where we had to mix some chemicals together in a beaker and then watch the reaction. Normally I’m pretty good at this kind of thing, because it’s sort of like baking. Plus, with Mia as my lab partner, it would’ve been easy.
But without Mia, I was on my own.
“It is a simple experiment, Katie,” Ms. Chandar said. “You can do it without a partner.”
We went to get our ingredients for the experiment, which was a container of blue stuff and a container of clear stuff. I listened carefully as Ms. Chandar told us how to measure out the blue stuff and then pour it into the clear stuff. I carefully began to pour—and then I sneezed.
I don’t know where it came from. It was one of those random sneezes. It took me by surprise, and I dropped the beaker. The blue stuff spilled all over the lab table in front of me.
Ms. Chandar didn’t notice, so I had to raise my hand.
“I had an accident,” I told her, which is a pretty embarrassing thing to have to say in front of the whole class.
Ms. Chandar sighed. “The towels are in the cabinet at the back of the room.”
As I headed for the towels, I noticed that my hands were bright blue. And, of course, I had to walk right past Maggie and Bella’s table to get to the towels.
“Way to go
, Katie,” Maggie said, giggling.
“Is that how you make your cupcakes, too?” Bella asked.
I ignored them and got the towels. Then I had to walk past them again.
“Look! Katie has Smurf hands!” Maggie said, and now a bunch of kids were laughing.
“She’s Clumsy Smurf!” Bella said, and then they both started cracking up.
My face turned red, but I just kept walking. You won’t believe what happened next. Eddie Rossi walked up to Maggie and Bella.
“Cut it out, guys,” he said. “It was just an accident.”
Maggie and Bella quickly stopped laughing. I know they think Eddie is cute, and they both looked kind of embarrassed.
Thank you, I mouthed to Eddie, and then hurried to my desk and started wiping up the mess.
Weird, right? I mean, normally Eddie would have started cracking up too and calling me Smurf Face or something.
Maybe Alexis and Mia are right, I thought. Maybe he does like me.
Which was even weirder, because, well, I don’t think of Eddie like that. But it was definitely interesting.
When I got home from school, I wanted to talk to Mia about it, but I didn’t want to bug her if her tooth was still hurting her.
When Mom came home from work, the first thing I asked was “How’s Mia?”
“She’s got a cavity, but she’s feeling better already,” Mom said. “I’m seeing her again tomorrow after school, to go over her X-rays. One of her permanent teeth is growing in a little bit strange.”
“I’m glad she’s okay,” I said. I took out my cell phone to text her, but then Mom kept talking.
“Katie, I need to discuss something with you,” Mom said. “Mrs. Rogers’s daughter’s baby came early, so she can’t come stay with you this weekend.”
“Hooray!” I said. “So I can stay at Mia’s, right?”
Mom shook her head. “Just on Friday night, when you’re making cupcakes. But you’ll be going home with the Wilsons after the fund-raiser. I won’t be home until late Tuesday, and I want to make sure you’re in good hands while I’m gone.”
I was completely shocked. “No way!” I protested. “You can’t expect me to go over to Callie’s! She’s, like, my mortal enemy now!”
Mom sighed. “Katie, it’s decided. This is not up for discussion.”
“But it’s not fair!” I yelled, and I was definitely crying now. “I can’t stand being around Callie! Why can’t I just stay at Mia’s the whole time?”
“Because it’s a lot to ask for you to stay with someone for that long. Barbara is my best friend, and I don’t want to have to worry about you while I’m worried about Grandma and everything else,” Mom said in a rush. “End of story.”
“You don’t understand!” I wailed. “You can’t do this to me!”
“Katie, enough!” Mom yelled, which is something she almost never does. “I know you’ve been having problems with Callie for a while now, but Grandma Carole is a lot more important than your silly dramas with your friends. You’re going to stay at Callie’s, and you’re just going to have to deal with it. Now go to your room until you cool off.”
I ran out of the living room and stomped up the stairs as hard and as loud as I could. Then I went into my room, slammed the door behind me, and fell facedown onto my bed.
I cried for a while, and then I texted Mia.
Mom says I have 2 stay with Callie for 4 days while she is gone! How am I supposed to do that?
I’ll ask my mom if you can stay here, Mia texted.
It’s no use. She’s best friends with Callie’s mom, so she doesn’t care that Callie and I are enemies now, I typed.
Maybe it won’t be so bad, Mia said.
I don’t even want to breathe the same air as her, I wrote back.
The next message I got from Mia was a photo of an astronaut.
U can wear this, she wrote.
LOL, I typed, and I really was.
Mia can always make me feel better. Then I remembered—Mia needed to feel better too.
How is your tooth? I asked.
Better, she replied. Ur Mom is nice.
Aaaaaa! Only sometimes! I wrote.
Now, I know that wasn’t exactly true. She is nice most of the time. But right then I was superangry with her.
After I said good-bye to Mia, I went to my desk and turned on my laptop. I knew exactly what my poem was going to be about.
CHAPTER 11
Now I’m Confused Again
There is a black cloud in my heart.
When it rains, I cry.
Nothing is fair.
Nothing is fair.
Why do people get sick?
Why do friends fight?
I won’t write the whole poem here now, because it’s kind of long, but you get the idea. Once I realized I didn’t have to rhyme, then it was kind of easy. I just concentrated on my feelings. Plus, I made sure to put in some metaphors and similes, to make Ms. Harmeyer happy, so I could get a good grade.
I have to admit that I actually felt better after I wrote the poem. Kind of like my angry feelings left me and attached to the paper or something. Running makes me feel better too, but in a different way. When I run, worries and other feelings leave my body, but I guess with poetry, those feelings float away into the air.
The next day, it was hard to even look at Callie, though, because my stomach flip-flopped every time I thought about having to stay with her. Thank goodness for my friends. At least they understood.
“That’s just awful!” Emma said when I told her and Alexis about it during lunch. Mia sat next to me and nodded sympathetically.
“You could stay at my house,” Alexis offered.
“Or mine,” Emma added.
I shook my head. “Thanks, but I already tried seeing if I could stay at Mia’s. Mom’s being totally unfair about it.”
“It’ll go by fast,” Mia said.
“Bring headphones with you,” Alexis suggested.
I sighed. “I’ll just be glad when this is over.”
“Hey, Mom said we could do the test batch at our house tonight,” Emma said. “Is seven okay?”
Everyone said that would be fine.
“Mom and I bought the ingredients over the weekend,” Emma continued.
“I hope you saved your receipt,” said Alexis.
Emma rolled her eyes. “Of course! I know you would never let me forget it if I didn’t.”
I suddenly felt nervous. “It feels like we still have a ton of things to do,” I said. “What about the decorations and everything?”
“I made a tie-dyed tablecloth for us at Dad’s last weekend,” Mia reported. “Ava helped me.”
“And my dad’s going to get the milk for us on Saturday morning,” Alexis said. “He’s going to donate the milk, since it’s for a good cause.”
“Oh, and we found the cutest striped straws to put in the cups of milk!” Emma reported. “They’re rainbow colored, to go with the tie-dyed theme.”
“And we’re going to wear aprons that we can decorate with peace symbols and stuff,” Alexis said.
“Wow,” I said. “You guys did all that?”
“We were texting all weekend,” Alexis said. “We didn’t want to bother you at your grandma’s.”
For a second I didn’t know if my feelings should be hurt, but then I decided they shouldn’t be. I’m glad I spent the weekend with Grandma Carole instead of worrying about the fund-raiser.
“Thanks for doing all that,” I said.
“Besides, Katie, we’re counting on you to make the cupcakes as groovy as possible,” Mia added.
I nodded. “I’ll feel better after we do the test batch.”
Mia frowned. “I’ve got to go back to your mom after school today. I hope I can still get my homework done, or I might not be able to come.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Alexis said. “It’s just a test. Friday night is when we’ll need all four of us to really work.”
I made a
fake-sad face. “Now I have to ride the bus by myself again!”
“Well, at least you won’t have metal tools in your mouth,” Mia said.
“Good point,” I agreed.
I still had four classes to go before the bus, and at least I had Mia with me for social studies and science. When we got to science class, I whispered the story of what had happened with Eddie the day before. Mia nodded.
“I told you he likes you!” she whispered back.
I shook my head. I still couldn’t believe it.
Then in drama class we learned some interesting stuff about the history of theater in ancient Greece, and in English class I handed in my poem to Ms. Harmeyer. This time, I was sure I had done a good job. I couldn’t wait to get it back.
When school was out, I slid into my usual seat on the bus: the sixth row from the front. Then something very surprising happened. George Martinez sat next to me!
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey,” I said back. I felt a little nervous all of a sudden. What could George want?
“So, with that social studies homework, are we supposed to answer all those review questions or just the fill-in ones at the top?” he asked.
All right, I thought. He’s just asking about homework. That’s cool.
I took out my assignment book and looked through it. “All of them,” I told him.
George sighed. “Man, I hate those questions on the bottom. They take so long to do.”
“I know,” I agreed. “Do you think Mrs. Kratzer even reads all those answers?”
“I bet she does,” George says. “She looks like she loves to read. I bet her house is full of books.”
“Just because she wears glasses?” I asked.
George shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just . . . that’s how she looks.”
That reminded me of something. “We were watching this old TV show at my grandparents’ house, and there was this episode where this guy loved books, and then the world ended or something. But he was happy, because he could read all the time. And then his eyeglasses broke!”