by Megan Atwood
Ella didn’t like it when things “flowed.” She liked it when things were contained.
Ms. Jenkins said, “OK, go!”
Ella stared at her blank sketchpad. Jamie scratched away in the next chair. Ella tapped her pencil on the desk and tried to brainstorm. Finally she started sketching a cake and thinking about how she would decorate it. By the time she got to the third tier, she was so absorbed she didn’t realize that the scribbling next to her had stopped.
Jamie stared at her drawing, one pierced eyebrow raised. “A cake? We can draw whatever we want, and you draw a cake?”
Ella threw her arms on the sketch and shrugged. “I couldn’t think of anything else.” No way would she tell Jamie that baking was all she thought about. Way too lame.
Jamie snorted. “Right. I can’t stop thinking of things I want to draw. See?”
Ella peeked at her pad. One corner held a dark angel, messy lines smudging into shapeless features. In the center of the paper, what looked like a haunted mansion sprawled out, complete with crooked lines and oddly shaped details.
All around the edges of the paper, little doodles of gargoyles and vampires stared through their messy outlines. Jamie’s hands were black from the charcoal she’d used.
Ella guessed the drawings were good, but they were way too messy for her taste. Not one line stood straight!
Ms. Jenkins leaned in to peer at Jamie’s work. “Fantastic, Jamie! Your sense of distorted space is superb. I like how you’ve indicated the warp of time and reality with those asymmetrical lines.”
Ella blinked. She got all that from a gargoyle?
Ms. Jenkins went on. “Let’s see yours, Ella.” She looked over Ella’s drawing.
“Wow, two more different table partners couldn’t be found. Ella, your sense of symmetry and proportion are beautiful, but . . .”
Ella looked up at her, brow furrowed. Hers was way better than the mess Jamie had made.
“But . . . I would love to see you go a little crazy here. You were given the freedom to draw whatever you wanted, and you went for straight, clean lines. Don’t you think you could take a risk and try to draw something new?” Ms. Jenkins’s eyes had gone soft.
Ella could feel herself blushing again. She was afraid to look around and see if anyone was looking at her. She nodded and looked down at the table.
Ms. Jenkins patted her shoulder. “Don’t get me wrong, you’ve got great talent. I’d just like to see you get a little messy is all.” Ella looked up. Ms. Jenkins winked and went on to the next student. Ella’s mother’s words rang in her ears: “Sometimes life is a little messy.” She sighed.
Ella could feel Jamie’s eyes on her, so she turned to look at her.
“Dude,” said Jamie, “you’re über uptight.” Jamie leaned in and tugged on Ella’s brown hair. “Gotta loosen up a little!” Ella stiffened and Jamie laughed.
She had never been so happy to hear the bell ring for lunch in her life.
7
Ella was pretty sure her day couldn’t get any worse. She flopped onto a seat across from Jasper at lunchtime.
Jasper looked up from the takeout sushi in front of him. “What’s going on?”
Ella rolled her eyes. “Ugh. Ms. Jenkins said I was a bad artist.” She put her head on her arms and sighed.
Jasper raised one eyebrow dramatically. “She actually said you were a bad artist?”
Ella grumbled. “Well, not exactly. She just loved what freaky Jamie was doing, which, if you ask me, was like a seizure on paper. And then she said I needed to get messy. That my lines were ‘too clean’ and I needed to ‘loosen up a little.’”
Jasper almost choked on his sushi. “You? That’s like asking a zebra to change to polka dots!”
For some reason, this made Ella mad. At least she didn’t dress like a crazy person and quote old movies all the time. Oh yeah, and wear pink Adidas while being a guy. And, the kicker, ruin her best friend’s chance at her dream job.
“Whatever,” she said, jumping up. She’d forgotten her lunch, so she needed to get food in the lunch line anyway.
Jasper shook his head. She could hear him say as she walked away, “Moody, moody.”
Standing in line, Ella knew she was being unfair. She would apologize to Jasper when she sat down. He didn’t deserve this treatment. But she had to admit—she still blamed him for her missed opportunity. If he was just more normal . . .
By the time the lunch lady plopped some gluelike macaroni and cheese on her plate, Ella felt completely confused. She grabbed an apple and some milk and went to pay for the food.
And that’s when she saw them.
Perfectly decorated angel and gingerbread cookies sat in a perfectly decorated basket. The mixed chocolate and white cookies looked more like tiny cakes than cookies. Silver bells and thin icing graced their tops—they were just like the ones Ella had seen in the window. Each package was wrapped in cellophane and had a blue-and-white ribbon tied in a perfect bow around it.
The hand-stenciled writing on the sign said, “Marta’s Cookies. $1.00 for 6.”
Ella clenched her fists. That woman managed to get her cookies sold here? And why was she charging so little? Now everyone would be eating them. She looked around. Sure enough, almost every student carried a cellophane package with a blue-and-white bow.
Ella took out her wallet to pay for her food. The cashier said, “Would you like some cookies? They’re brand-new and so cheap!” Ella didn’t even answer. She practically threw her money at the cashier to get out of there as fast as she could. The cashier raised her eyebrows and handed Ella her change.
Ella stomped back to her table. She slammed the tray down and looked up at Jasper. He had one of the cookies halfway to his mouth. Ella slapped it out of his hand. The angel broke in half on the table.
“Have you gone mad?” Jasper said. “I know this is a bit off my diet, but good god, girl! You’ve ruined a perfectly good cookie!”
Ella rolled her eyes at him again. “Did you actually read the sign?”
Jasper shrugged. “The sign?”
“For the cookies! When you bought them! The cookies are from Marta’s!”
Jasper looked bewildered. “Who’s Marta?”
Ella growled again. “That woman who wouldn’t give me the job. From last Saturday?”
“Oh. That Marta. And that means . . . ?”
Ella couldn’t believe Jasper was acting this way. She waited a minute to see if he’d get it, but he just kept looking at her expectantly. She sighed, exasperated. “And that means you can’t eat the cookies.”
Jasper looked longingly at the broken angel. “Because you’re my friend, and we’re boycotting the shop,” he said, sighing.
Ella sat back. “Exactly.” She didn’t mention that he also was the reason she didn’t get the job and that he should be denied the cookies as a punishment.
Jasper squared his shoulders and looked up. “Right. Plus, these cookies clearly suck. Who would decorate an angel blue? Everyone knows they should be pink.” He smiled and winked at Ella. She knew he was just trying to make her feel better. But the angels were beautiful, and just the smell from the broken cookie on the table made Ella’s mouth water. Jasper kept looking at the cookie as if it were a long-lost brother. Ella could only image how good his tiny taste had been. Jealousy flared up in Ella, but with it came an appreciation for her oldest friend’s loyalty.
Ella smiled. “Juju?”
“Bees. Most definitely,” Jasper answered.
8
As the days passed, it seemed more and more people were talking about Marta’s cookies. Ella did her best to put her bad feelings behind her. So what if a new bakeshop completely foiled her plan to be the best baker in town? And so what if that bakeshop owner wouldn’t hire her? And so what if she felt it was her best friend’s fault?
With the new bakeshop as her competition, Ella decided she needed to adapt. So when the bell rang for art class a few days later, she tried to think messy.
Maybe she could draw some crazy lines like Jamie did.
When she got to class, she was surprised to see Jamie in her usual seat—on time. Jamie’s Mohawk was gone, too. She wore her hair down like a normal person, although it was still blue. Ella sat down on her chair and stared at Jamie.
When Jamie noticed her looking, Ella jumped. But all Jamie did was say, “Yes?” in a polite voice.
Very weird.
Ms. Jenkins breezed in when the bell rang, wearing a long, straight skirt and a tucked-in blouse. Ella shifted in her seat.
“OK, class, we’ll stay with the original lesson plan. Draw what you’d like.” And then she stopped. Ella imagined she’d do her usual art chant. Instead, Ms. Jenkins said, “Oh, but do try to make it pretty, yes?”
Ella shook her head to clear it. Pretty?
Shrugging the strangeness off, Ella began to draw. She drew her normal, three-tiered cake, but this time she drew some fuzzy lines around the edges to make it look more abstract. When she was done, she held the paper in front of her to get a better perspective.
She couldn’t believe her eyes. The messy lines made the cake much more interesting to look at. She would have never thought! She couldn’t wait to show Ms. Jenkins.
Just then, she felt a presence behind her.
“What happened, dear?”
Ella swiveled her neck around. “What do you mean?”
Ms. Jenkins pressed her hand on Ella’s shoulder. Ella tried to shake off Ms. Jenkins’s grip. The teacher’s voice got hard. “I mean, why did you put those horrible lines over that beautiful cake?”
Speechless, Ella just stared at her. Ms. Jenkins’s fingers dug into her shoulder, and Ella said softly, “Ms. Jenkins, you’re hurting me.”
Ms. Jenkins seemed to shake something off. She patted Ella’s shoulder. “Oh, I’m so sorry.” Ella could see her eyes now. They looked like a cloud was lifting. Ms. Jenkins swallowed, then leaned down to Ella’s drawing again. “Yes, yes, I love what you’ve done here. You’ve made real progress.” She cleared her throat, gave Ella one last pat, and moved on.
Ella rubbed her shoulder and watched Ms. Jenkins make her way around the room. What had just happened?
She turned to Jamie. Maybe she’d noticed. “Do you think Ms. Jenkins is acting weird?” Ella whispered.
Jamie looked up with wide eyes, her face serene. She shook her head. “No, I don’t believe so.”
Ella stopped. Tattooed, pierced Jamie had just said, “No, I don’t believe so.”
Jamie looked over at Ella’s drawing. “That’s very nice, except for the lines. Here, look at mine.”
Ella took in the drawing. On the paper, a still life of flowers, fruit, and bread graced the center, all the lines neat and orderly.
Jamie said to her, “See how perfect this is? Why make art if not to make things look improved?”
9
Ella slid onto a chair at the lunch table.
“OK,” she said. “This is a very strange day. Do you think something’s up?”
Jasper patted Ella’s hand. “Do remember, ma chérie, that I’m not actually in your head with you. What are you going on about?”
Ella rolled her eyes at him. “Jasper, focus. Has anything strange happened to you today?”
The crinkle of cellophane and the “aaahs” of people eating cookies reached Ella’s ears. She tried to tune them out. It worked. Mostly.
Jasper picked up a sushi roll with his chopsticks and ate it in one bite. Still chewing, he said, “No, why? Did you suddenly decide to color outside the lines?” He chuckled, and a piece of rice flew onto the table. Ella ignored the urge to wipe it away with a napkin.
Ella sat up straighter. “Actually, I did.”
Jasper’s eyebrows arched. “You did?”
“Yes, but that’s not the strangest thing.”
“Oh, do tell.” Jasper put down his chopsticks.
“Ms. Jenkins was acting really weird in art class. And Jamie, my table partner, had her hair down.”
“Oh no! Someone is having a bad day, and another person changed her hair? Has the whole world gone mad?”
Jasper’s shouts brought hard stares from other tables. Ella wished the floor would open up. But Jasper just looked at her, amused.
“If you’re not catching on, I’m being sarcastic.”
“Yes, I got that, thank you very much. But just keep your eye out.”
Jasper said, “I’ll keep two out. So! Now I have news to tell you—guess who’s auditioning for Cats?”
Ella opened her lunch and took out her sandwich, cut in two perfect halves. She half-listened to Jasper as she looked around for other strange behavior.
Jasper went on, “Moi! Actually, our whole drama club is going to audition. We hope to make the chorus. Actually, actually,” he leaned in closely, “I hope to be the star. But don’t tell anyone that.” He put a finger to his lips.
Ella nodded and chewed her sandwich, looking around. “Uh huh.” She did notice the lunchroom was quieter than normal—except for the crinkle of the cellophane. It seemed everyone had the cookies now. She clenched her jaw.
Jasper snapped his fingers in front of her. “Hellooooo. Let’s practice our listening skills today, shall we?”
Ella looked up guiltily. “Sorry.”
Just then Carlos Perez, Bridgewater High’s starting quarterback, walked by. His hair was parted on the side and gelled in place. Ella stared. He was one of the most popular kids at school, but today he looked so . . . dorky. He tripped and ran into Jasper.
Ella braced herself for the confrontation. The football team never missed an opportunity to make fun of Jasper. But Carlos only said, “Oh, excuse me,” and patted Jasper on the shoulder.
Ella and Jasper looked at each other, astonished.
“OK, I’m with you now,” Jasper said. “Something really weird is going on at Bridgewater High.”
10
When she woke up the next morning, Ella hoped she had imagined everything. She’d tried to tell her mom that things had gotten weird at school, but came up short on any reasons why. Her mom had only said, “Sounds like you’re overreacting, honey. Cookie?” When she’d held up a beautifully decorated angel cookie from Marta’s, Ella had stomped away.
Ella reached her locker, but Jasper wasn’t at his. She looked around. The school seemed even weirder than the day before.
The students walked around quietly. Boys’ hair was parted neatly; girls’ hair was smoothed down and flipped up at the ends. Nearly every single student wore a cardigan. An honest-togod cardigan. What was going on?
As she entered homeroom, the strangeness got even stranger. Every single student looked directly at her and stared. Glared.
Ella sunk lower and lower in her seat. That’s when she noticed another student without a cardigan: Rash. Her real name was Rachel, but everyone called her Rash because of her horrible food allergies. Was it possible both she and Rash had missed an announcement about some school pride day involving cardigans?
She couldn’t wait to see Jasper. When the bell rang she fled to her locker, but Jasper still wasn’t in.
“Of all the days,” she whispered to herself. Trying to seem inconspicuous, almost climbing into her locker, Ella prayed for art class. Maybe Ms. Jenkins had some idea about what was going on. Ella didn’t have a good feeling about any of it.
Finally, the bell rang. Ella practically sprinted down the hall. She arrived first and bounced in her seat. The rest of the class trickled in, each student wearing a cardigan, hair uniform and neat.
Jamie sat next to her and glared. All her piercings were gone. Her hair was mousy brown.
Ella cleared her throat and tried to ignore Jamie’s eyes. Finally, she couldn’t stay quiet any longer. “What?” she asked, her voice three octaves higher than normal.
Jamie pasted a smile on her face, but her brown eyes still held the anger. “Oh, golly, was I staring?”
Ella couldn’t answer. Golly?
Jamie went o
n. “I was just . . . admiring your outfit. It’s very . . . revealing.”
Ella looked down at her own V-neck argyle sweater and jeans. She didn’t have time to dwell because Ms. Jenkins walked in with short, choppy steps. The heels she wore seemed to hinder her steps.
Ella did a double take. Heels? Never before had Ms. Jenkins worn heels.
“Class, today we’ll be working on still lifes. Please draw fruit or flowers.” Ms. Jenkins’s normally soft blue eyes grew hard as ice and she added, “And class . . . draw neatly, please.” She looked at Ella in particular. Ella’s face grew hot. She nodded and looked down at her sketchpad, conscious that Jamie still stared at her.
Never in her life had she wanted Jasper around more than now. She imagined his pink scarf and arched eyebrows; they would laugh their heads off at everything going on. She might have to wait until after school to talk to him, though. Right now she needed to just get through the day.
Ella began to draw, sketching a bowl of fruit under a vase of flowers. If Ms. Jenkins wanted neat, she’d give her neat. She hunched over and drew each line precisely. All of a sudden, she felt a presence behind her. She started and her pencil jerked, scratching a line through her entire drawing.
Ms. Jenkins was hovering close behind her. “Well, now you’ve ruined a perfectly good drawing!” She put her hand on Ella’s shoulder and pressed down hard. “What do we have to do to make you draw neatly, Ella?”
Ella looked at Ms. Jenkins, eyes wide. The teacher stepped back and smiled, but her eyes remained hard. She narrowed them. “You’re just quite the rebel, aren’t you? I mean, look at your outfit! So revealing . . .”
Ella stood up and stammered, “I . . . don’t . . . outfit?” Now the entire class stared at her. Ms. Jenkins came toward Ella, a wild look in her eyes. “Ella Ruby, in this class, we are neat!”