by Dan Gutman
I don’t know if the school was really floating, but the L word was definitely in the air the day before Valentine’s Day. In art class, Ms. Hannah had us cut big hearts out of red paper to put all over the hallways. In music class, Mr. Loring had us sing love songs. The lunch lady, Ms. LaGrange, made us heart-shaped Tater Tots.
In the library, Mrs. Roopy dressed up like Cupid and read us a book about Valentine’s Day in other countries. Did you know that in Slovenia birds get married to each other? And in Korea on April 14 men who didn’t get a present on Valentine’s Day gather together and eat noodles.
Other countries are weird.
That afternoon we had computer class with Mrs. Yonkers, who is a genius. One time she invented a computer that turned vegetables into junk food. She should get the No Bell Prize. That’s a prize they give to people who don’t have bells.
Mrs. Yonkers told us that she worked all weekend on a new invention called the Love Machine.
“What does it do?” Andrea asked.
“It reads brain waves,” Mrs. Yonkers said, “and it shows what you love and what you hate.”
We all wanted to try the Love Machine. Michael got to go first, because he was sitting with his hands folded. Mrs. Yonkers attached some wires to his head and turned on the Love Machine.
“I…LOVE…FOOTBALL!” said a computery voice. “I HATE…GOING TO THE DENTIST.”
Wow! The Love Machine really worked! Michael does love football, and I know he hates going to the dentist. Mrs. Yonkers took the wires off Michael’s head and attached them to Ryan’s head.
“I HATE…GETTING SHOTS,” the voice said. “I…LOVE…BROCCOLI.”
Wow! Ryan really does love broccoli. He’s weird.
Andrea got to go next. Mrs. Yonkers hooked the wires up to her head.
“I HATE…MEAN PEOPLE,” said the voice. “I…LOVE…SCHOOL.” What a sick, twisted mind Andrea has!
Mrs. Yonkers called on me next. She stuck the wires to my head. They felt cold.
“We know what A.J. loves,” Ryan said. “Skateboarding…video games…dirt bikes…football…”
“I HATE…SCHOOL,” the voice suddenly said. “I…LOVE…ANDREA.”
WHAT???????????????????
“Oooooh!” everybody went.
“That thing is busted!” I told Mrs. Yonkers. “I want a do over!”
Mrs. Yonkers said she had to give everybody else a chance first. The whole class started singing that song about me and Andrea sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.
I thought I was gonna die. It was the worst day of my life.
There was only one thing I could do—run away to Antarctica and live with the penguins. Penguins are cool, and they wouldn’t care that the dumb Love Machine said I loved Andrea.
6
Klutzstock
My mother wouldn’t drive me to Antarctica to live with the penguins.
“Why not?” I asked.
“Because I don’t want to miss the big love festival!” she said. “All the other parents are going to be there!”
It was the worst day of the year—Valentine’s Day. The L day! And to make things even worse, I had to go to school with my mom.
When we got to the field behind Ella Mentry School, there was a big sign across the soccer goal: WELCOME TO KLUTZSTOCK! A stage was set up with speakers on each side.
Parents, teachers, and kids were spreading out blankets on the grass. Some of them were dressed like hippies. Everybody was making peace signs and saying stuff like “Groovy!” and “Far-out!”
Andrea and Emily saw me and came over. They were wearing tie-dyed shirts, sandals, headbands, and flowers in their hair.
“Isn’t this groovy, Arlo?” said Andrea. “We’re flower children.”
“Far-out!” Emily said.
Ugh! They were even more annoying than usual. I got away from them and walked around until I spotted Michael, Ryan, and Neil the nude kid.
“Who do you think the surprise guest is gonna be?” Neil asked.
“I bet it’ll be our old music teacher, Mr. Hynde,” Ryan said. “Remember when he came back to school and—”
Ryan didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence, because Mr. Louie got up onstage and started talking into the microphone.
“Walnut Street is closed, man!” he said. “Far-out!”
“Far-out!” everybody yelled.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Mr. Louie said. “We’re here to groove on three hours of peace and music. So kick back and dig the vibes. If you get thirsty, be sure to use the water fountain next to the stage.”
The first act was Mr. Klutz. He played “The Star-Spangled Banner” on a kazoo.
Everybody clapped.
Miss Holly, the Spanish teacher, came out with a basket of fruit on her head. She sang a love song in Spanish.
Miss Patty, the school secretary, played an accordion.
Ms. Coco, the gifted and talented teacher, read a love poem while Ms. Hannah played a bongo drum.
A bunch of the other teachers got up and sang. Mostly they were terrible. But everybody in the crowd clapped anyway. We didn’t want to hurt their feelings. Between songs, me and the guys kept going to the water fountain to get drinks.
“And now it’s time for our special surprise guest,” announced Mr. Louie. “Put your hands together for my favorite rock-and-roll band of all time…KISS!”
Everybody went crazy when four guys in big boots and weird makeup got up on stage with guitars.
“Far-out!” somebody in the crowd yelled.
Then we realized it wasn’t the real Kiss. It was our librarian, Mrs. Roopy; the bus driver, Mrs. Kormel; our science teacher, Mr. Docker; and our gym teacher, Miss Small. They were all dressed up like Kiss.
Then they started playing—really loud! Mrs. Roopy was the lead singer.
“I…wanna read and write all night, and check out books all day,” she sang. “I…wanna read and write all night, and check out books all day…”
Everybody got up and started dancing. Mr. Klutz was dancing with Miss Lazar. Mr. Loring was dancing with Ms. Coco. Mr. Macky was dancing with Miss Daisy. Onstage, Mrs. Roopy stuck out her tongue. Flames started shooting out of her guitar. Smoke started coming out of the floor. It was cool.
We were really hot from all that dancing, so me and the guys went to the water fountain again. Mr. Louie was there, moving around with his eyes closed.
“Klutzstock is outta sight!” he said. “Are you dudes grooving on the vibes?”
“Oh, yeah,” Ryan said, “it’s far-out.”
“When do we vote?” I asked Mr. Louie.
“Vote?” he asked. “Vote for what?”
“Vote to see who gets kicked out,” I told him.
“Oh, no, that’s not my bag,” Mr. Louie said.
“You mean nobody gets eliminated, like on a reality TV show?” asked Michael.
“No, man. This is all about the love,” Mr. Louie said. “There are no winners or losers. Just good vibrations.”
“Aren’t you going to have judges insult the singers and make them cry?” asked Ryan.
“No! Dig the tunes, man,” Mr. Louie said. “Groove to the beat.”
Mr. Louie could tell I was disappointed that none of the teachers would be humiliated. He put his arm around my shoulder.
“Let me clue you in on a little secret, A.J.,” he told me. “I spiked the water fountain.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Shhhh! I put something in the water,” Mr. Louie whispered.
“What’d you put in the water?” I asked.
“Remember I told you about my love potion?” he said. “Well, you’ve been drinking it. Do you feel the love yet? Happy Valentine’s Day!”
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
7
Kissing Is Gross
As soon as Mr. Louie told us he put love potion in the water fountain, me and the guys spit out the water. Ugh! Disgusting!
“There’s love potion in there?
” I asked.
“Right on,” Mr. Louie said. “Love is the most powerful force in the universe. It helped you levitate the school.”
Mrs. Roopy and her band finished their song. Andrea, Emily, and Annette came over to drink from the water fountain.
“Isn’t this fab, Arlo?” asked Andrea.
“It’s a heavy scene, man,” Emily said.
Annette nodded. “Totally.”
Just then a weird feeling came over me. I didn’t know what it was, but suddenly I had this urge to give Andrea a kiss!
So I did! I kissed her.
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
“Why, Arlo,” Andrea said, all smiley. “How sweet! I didn’t know you liked me.”
“I don’t!” I yelled. “It’s the water! Mr. Louie put love potion in it!”
“He did?” Andrea, Emily, and Annette asked at the same time.
You’ll never believe in a million hundred years what happened next.
Emily kissed Ryan!
Then Michael kissed Annette!
Word must have spread through the crowd that Mr. Louie put love potion in the water fountain. Because the next thing we knew, teachers started kissing each other! Parents started kissing each other! Everybody was kissing each other!
Gross! This was the worst Valentine’s Day in the history of the world!
8
Teachers in Love
For the rest of my life, I would have to live with the fact that I kissed Andrea. But I had to be a man about it.
The next morning Andrea and Emily and the other girls were all whispery and giggly. Miss Daisy hadn’t come in yet. I put my backpack away and marched over to Andrea.
“I just want you to know that I still hate you,” I told her. “I only kissed you because I drank that love potion Mr. Louie put in the water fountain.”
“I know,” Andrea said. “I hate you too, Arlo.”
“Good,” I said. “As long as we’re in agreement.”
“But guess what, Arlo?”
“Your butt?” I replied.
Any time anyone says, “Guess what?” you should always answer, “Your butt.” That’s the first rule of being a kid.
“Miss Daisy has a boyfriend!” she said, all excited.
“What? No way!”
“She does!” said Emily.
“Who is it?” I asked.
“It’s Mr. Macky!” Andrea said, and all the girls collapsed in giggles.
Michael, Ryan, and some of the boys came over.
“Miss Daisy and Mr. Macky?” Ryan asked. “Girlfriend and boyfriend? Impossible!”
“How do you know?” I asked Andrea.
“Haven’t you noticed they’ve been hanging around each other lately?” Andrea asked. “And sometimes they walk to school together.”
“Mr. Macky is always coming into our class,” said Annette, “even when we don’t have reading.”
“I saw them making goo-goo eyes at each other at Klutzstock,” Emily said. “They’re in love!”
“And this morning,” Andrea whispered, “I walked by the Reading Recovery Room and I saw them holding hands!”
The Reading Recovery Room is Mr. Macky’s office. The girls collapsed in giggles again.
“Maybe they were just shaking hands,” I said.
“They weren’t shaking, Arlo,” Andrea said. “They were holding.”
“Maybe Mr. Macky was putting her under arrest,” I suggested. “He held her hand so she couldn’t escape.”
“He wasn’t arresting her, Arlo,” Andrea insisted.
“Maybe they were arm wrestling?” I guessed.
“They weren’t arm wrestling, Arlo,” said Andrea. “They’re in love!”
Ewwww! Disgusting!
“Maybe they’re gonna get married!” Emily said.
“They can’t get married,” said Neil the nude kid. “They’re teachers.”
“If Miss Daisy marries Mr. Macky, she’ll be Mrs. Macky,” Annette said.
“Maybe she’ll keep her name,” said Andrea. “Lots of women do that. Then she’ll be Mrs. Daisy.”
“Maybe she’ll combine their two names,” Ryan suggested. “She could be Mrs. Dacky or Mrs. Maisy.”
All the girls were giggling and gossiping about what Miss Daisy would wear to her wedding and where she and Mr. Macky would go on their honeymoon.
“There isn’t going to be a honeymoon!” I shouted. “They’re not going out!”
“Who’s not going out?” somebody behind us asked.
It was Miss Daisy!
Everybody stopped talking.
“Where were you, Miss Daisy?” asked Ryan.
“I was in the Reading Recovery Room,” Miss Daisy said.
“Um-hmmmmm,” Andrea said, looking at me.
“Is Mr. Macky your boyfriend?” demanded Michael.
“Oh, I don’t know!” Miss Daisy giggled. But her face turned red like a tomato. That’s a sure sign that somebody has something to hide. “You’ll have to ask—”
She didn’t get the chance to finish her sentence, because guess who walked into the door at that very moment?
Nobody, because walking into a door would hurt. But guess who walked into the doorway.
It was Mr. Macky!
“Is Miss Daisy your girlfriend?” we all asked.
Mr. Macky didn’t say a word. Instead, he leaned over and kissed Miss Daisy!
Ewwww! Disgusting! They were smooching! Call the nurse! I thought I was gonna throw up.
“Oooooh!” Ryan said. “Miss Daisy and Mr. Macky are in love!”
“When are you gonna get married?” asked Michael.
“Next Sunday,” replied Miss Daisy.
WHAT?????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!
9
Mrs. Dacky and Mr. Maisy
It had to be a joke. Miss Daisy and Mr. Macky couldn’t be getting married!
But it was true. Miss Daisy told us that Mr. Macky had been her boyfriend for a long time, but they kept it secret. Then, at Klutzstock, he got down on one knee and proposed to her.
Miss Daisy showed us her engagement ring.
“It’s beautiful!” said all the girls.
Miss Daisy and Mr. Macky were going to get married on Sunday, and our whole class was invited to the wedding! Mr. Louie, who used to be a judge, was going to marry them in a church.
Well, the girls got all super-girly—even girlier than usual. They were all hugging Miss Daisy and giggling and crying and saying how happy they were.
“Is your new name going to be Mrs. Macky?” asked Andrea.
“How about Mrs. Dacky or Mrs. Maisy?” asked Ryan.
“Gee, I don’t know,” said Miss Daisy, who doesn’t know anything. “Maybe I’ll hyphenate my name.”
“Once they had to hyphenate me at a Pee Wee football game,” I said. “I almost passed out. But then they gave me something to drink and I was okay.”
“That’s ‘hydrate,’ dumbhead,” Andrea told me. “‘Hyphenate’ means to put a dash between two words.”
“I knew that,” I lied.
Mr. Macky and Miss Daisy were all lovey-dovey, making goo-goo eyes at each other. The girls started planning the wedding. They were talking about what they were going to wear, what presents they should bring, and who Miss Daisy and Mr. Macky’s children would look like.
I pulled the guys over to the other side of the room. We huddled like a football team.
“This is horrible,” I told them. “This is the worst day in the history of the world.”
“What’s the big deal, A.J.?” asked Michael. “People get married all the time.”
“Yeah, but Mr. Macky and Miss Daisy aren’t in love,” I told him. “He only asked her to marry him because of the love potion Mr. Louie put in the water fountain.”
“I think it’s nice that Miss Daisy is going to get married,” said Neil the nude kid.
“Don’t you get it?” I told Neil. “Miss Daisy is the perfect teacher. She can’t read, write, or do math. But if she
gets married, she might have a baby and quit working. Then we’ll get a real teacher!”
“A.J.’s right!” Ryan said. “A real teacher will force us to learn stuff.”
“That would be horrible!” agreed Michael.
“So what can we do about it?” asked Neil.
There was only one thing to do.
“We have to stop the wedding,” I told them.
10
Sabotage!
Did you ever hear the word “sabotage”? It’s a great word. “Sabotage” is a fancy way to say “mess stuff up.” I’m really good at messing stuff up.
I learned about sabotage from a spy movie. These good guys blew up a truck to sabotage some bad guys. It was cool.*
But how do you sabotage a wedding? Blowing up a truck would probably not be a good idea.
“Maybe we can leave a trail of bonbons leading away from the church,” suggested Ryan. “Then Miss Daisy will follow the trail and miss her own wedding.”
“She’s dumb,” Michael said, “but she’s not that dumb.”
“We have to convince her that she shouldn’t marry Mr. Macky,” I told the guys.
“How can we do that?” asked Neil the nude kid. “Andrea and the other girls will mess everything up.”
Neil was right. If we tried to convince Miss Daisy not to marry Mr. Macky, the girls were sure to sabotage our plan.
But then I remembered something. In the morning, all the girls were going to the nurse’s office to be weighed and measured with Mrs. Cooney. It would be our big chance!
The next morning I waited until the girls left before telling Miss Daisy we had a wedding present for her.
“I love presents!” she said.
I went to my cubby and got out my old skateboard. I had put a ribbon around it to make it look better.
“There’s gum in the wheels so they don’t spin very fast anymore,” I told her. “But we wanted you to have it.”
“Oh, thank you, A.J.!” Miss Daisy said as she gave me a hug. “That is so thoughtful!”