by Anne Kalicky
Tom busted up laughing! He really got me good. We had to admit, despite our best efforts in this new hobby, neither one of us was experienced enough to hypnotize Raoul. We were forced to make a radical decision: give up on hypnosis, which clearly required a certain amount of expertise. We were really running out of time. . . .
Wednesday
Dear future human,
Besides Tom and me, no one talked about Raoul’s party at school. I think that all of the boys were trying to downplay the whole ordeal to avoid the tests. But this morning the big idiot reminded us of the “basic rules” of what he’d decided to call “Raoul’s Grand Slam Party.” There he goes again with his smug mouth! He told us again that we could complete the tasks whenever we wanted, but he had to be there to witness and give the green light. That put pressure on everyone, and the tests started up this morning.
In the middle of computer class, Lucas started yawning extremely loudly. Raoul immediately gave Lucas an invitation, but Lucas also earned a note for his parents about how “alarmingly” tired he was. Iliess also came out OK. Since he didn’t have any oil, he put an entire bottle of glue on Mr. Boulfou’s chair in social studies class. The teacher didn’t notice anything, but when the bell rang, we saw he couldn’t get up. He tried pulling on his chair, and then he told us to leave. Afterward we saw the principal going back and forth between his office and the classroom. He finally went to the classroom with the lost and found bucket, and Mr. Boulfou came out wearing red sweatpants that were way too short for him. . . . Iliess passed with flying colors and was given special congratulations from Raoul, along with his invitation.
Thursday
Lucas’s and Iliess’s achievements encouraged Damien Chico and Mathis Balma. . . . Evidently, Raoul witnessed the booger stuck on the math homework that was turned in to Mr. Tamisole yesterday. We all protested because we didn’t see anything, but Raoul told us he’d seen it and his approval was what mattered. Today after lunch, Damien was able to carry some bread in his belly button for three hundred feet. He should have lost it during the last fifty feet. He just barely caught it at the last minute, and Raoul clarified that the purpose of the test was not to let the bread fall on the ground—so Damien had earned his invitation. Raoul is playing “favorites”!
Sunday
Dear future human,
The tests continue, and I don’t see how I can get out of this mess. Rami broke all of Mrs. Boulet’s chalk, and since he’s cross-eyed, the teacher even comforted him because of his “handicap”! In Mr. Schmitt’s class, Angelo let out a trumpeting belch during the middle of singing “God Save the Queen.” On the playground, Raoul and Noah didn’t find any worms, so Noah gulped down five ants. And at the swimming pool, Titouan even swallowed a mouthful of water from the footbath. I was so disgusted.
Wednesday
At recess this morning Enzo Danleau gave it a go . . . with Rami’s help. Rami was in charge of “kidnapping” Louison Toinou in the little courtyard area where the phone booth used to be, the place where no one ever goes. Raoul was hiding, and Enzo was waiting to kiss her. But actually, according to what we heard, Louison spotted Raoul first. She threw herself at him and planted an enormous kiss right on his mouth. And Enzo was immediately eliminated. And now, Louison has been following Raoul everywhere.
In other news, Raphaël’s been late to class for the last three days. On Monday, he claimed he’d been chased by a lion that had escaped from the zoo. On Tuesday, he said that he had amnesia and didn’t know where he was. And this morning, he told us that he had to go back home because he’d forgotten his right hand, which is his writing hand. . . .
Monday
Thursday and Friday, Raphaël kept coming in late and inventing all sorts of excuses: that he had fallen in a manhole and then that he had to go to the emergency room because he had a fingernail growing out of his left ear. Raoul agreed that Raphaël had “qualified” to go to his party, and Mr. Tamisole—the math teacher—said that Raphaël had earned himself a two-hour detention on Saturday morning.
Apparently on Saturday morning this idiot Raphaël kept going with the joke; he showed up late claiming he was sucked up into a vacuum cleaner. He then had to stay in detention for two more hours.
Thursday
By this morning, only Jules, Tom, and I were left to take our tests—and Raoul was pressuring us even more.
Jules asked Raoul for a “special exception” to take his test during art with Miss Trinfon, because he was failing Mrs. Grumot’s chemistry class. Raoul, “in his great generosity,” agreed. But this was a bad move on Jules’s part, because when we got to class, Mrs. Trinfon told us we were having a pop quiz. The test was to make a portrait of a caterpillar using India ink. The model, frozen in a jar filled with chloroform, was sitting on a stool near her desk. Jules had to choose: either stare at Miss Trinfon for the whole hour and fail the test or focus on the worm he was supposed to draw! But a good grade in art was the only way Jules would make it to seventh grade, so he had to give up Raoul’s challenge.
Friday
This is it! Today was the last day to pass Raoul’s tests—my LAST chance to be able to go to Raoul’s party and hang out with Naïs.
It was terrible. This morning I found Tom at the secret passage, and somebody had drawn a big earthworm on the wall. The “artwork” was signed, HypnotiK. The mysterious graffiti artist now had an alias: the same name as the hypnosis TV show! Tom told me he thought it was really strange and that, as soon as we were done with sixth grade, we should absolutely clear up this mystery over the summer. Then we had to mentally prepare ourselves for the tasks that awaited us at school, especially me, because spending the entire day with toilet paper coming out of your pants isn’t exactly a walk in the park! Tom had put on his laced sneakers, and we went off to school.
Raoul was waiting for me with a roll of toilet paper that he’d been nice enough to bring from home. He’d even . . . personalized it. Like a prisoner sentenced to death, I pulled off a big piece and stuffed the end in my pants. The rest of it hung pathetically behind me.
But the events of the last few weeks took a drastic turn during recess. For a third time, Raoul gathered the whole class and even called over some of the other kids in our grade to help in the last test—Tom’s.
I was anxious to finish these stupid tests. And believe me, future human, as soon as Tom tied his laces together and stepped up to the starting line, I promised myself that I would spend the entire summer break learning hypnosis, sorcery, and other dark arts in order to KO Raoul and any other future enemies that might come my way. Tom set off with a hobble. Everyone was encouraging him, and I think that at that moment my buddy Tom let the exhilaration get to his head—at exactly 171.78 feet, he crashed to the ground with a terrible scream. We all gathered around Tom, who was in bad shape. My survival instincts took over. I moved the crowd back and made eye contact with Naïs, who was staring at me, very impressed—I’m almost certain of it.
I asked her to go get help right away. I knelt down next to Tom and held his head.
It reminded me of scenes from the war movies I watch with Grandpa Joff. I looked for something to wipe off his forehead with, but all I could find was the toilet paper with “Raoul Party” on it. Then I saw Tom’s knee, and trust me, future human, it was not a pretty sight. I heard Tom trying to whisper something into my ear.
But before he could say anything, the principal came hurtling over, and everything happened so fast. He told me to move back, but I refused, telling him that Tom was my best friend and abandoning him was out of the question. When I turned my head back toward Tom, I realized that old slug had blacked out! The ambulance arrived five minutes later. Tom was taken to the emergency room, and the diagnosis was grim: “femur double fracture and one month in a cast”! Holy cow, it was
serious! The vibe at school wasn’t the same for the rest of the day. Nobody dared to say anything. And just before the last swimming class with Mr. Ramoupoulos, I was called to the principal’s office. He demanded that I tell him the whole story, promising anything I said would stay anonymous and that I “shouldn’t fear any retaliation.” I gave him a blank stare, I thought about all of the horrible stuff Raoul Kador and his gang of jerks made us go through, and . . .
At the end of the day, Mr. Schmitt asked me to bring Tom his backpack and write down all of the homework in his planner.
Saturday
The pages were scribbled with notes and drawings, the same ones from the secret passage! The mysterious graffiti artist, HypnotiK, was TOM? The same person who made invisible ink out of yogurt and raced snails? To think that he had me from the beginning! How did I miss it? I don’t know if I can ever get over this. That old slug won’t get out of it that easy. . . . How could he keep something like that from his best friend? This was practically high treason. So, I decided to bring Tom’s stuff over and confront him pronto. But when I found him at home, he was still in a lot of pain. And when I gave him his planner, his eyes opened wide, then he closed them and tried the old pretend-to-be-passed-out trick. There was a long silence before he finally reopened his eyes and confessed everything. Tom was definitely the graffiti artist. He had seen something on TV about a famous street artist who wrote rebellious messages on walls. He told me that, since he was shy, it’d given him the idea to express himself without anyone knowing it was him. He also said he was hoping to be famous someday. I busted up laughing and told him about my notebook for subsequent generations, the one you’re holding in your hands, dear future human. I said that I too would become famous someday. We spat on our hands, shook them, and promised to never tell anyone about any of this!
And to increase the value of my notebook, I asked him to give me an autograph!
Monday
Dear future human,
I have two things to tell you: one good and one great! After the whole test ordeal and Tom’s accident, Raoul’s parents were called in to meet with the principal. The result: Raoul is in trouble, and his party is CANCELED! But the best part is that I asked my parents if we could have the party at our house. I hesitated initially because I was a little scared they’d say no. But I talked to Tom about it, and, yesterday morning, I saw on the wall of the secret passage: “Go for it, Max!” So I gathered the courage and asked my parents. At first, they were totally freaked out. I should mention that Marion’s last sleepover didn’t end so well. She’d invited five friends over, and they wanted to play a game of musical sleeping bags. That meant walking and jumping around the sleeping bags while music played. When the music stopped, everyone had to jump into one. Except that at one point the police rang the doorbell, responding to a “nighttime disturbance.” Mr. Lopez, our neighbor, had filed a noise complaint. The police had to call my parents, who were out for dinner, to get them to come back on the double. But with ALL the work I put into bringing up my English and PE grades, and for finishing sixth grade strong, they said YES!
It is my first party and,
believe me, I’m going big!
Everyone said yes right away—except for Naïs, who took two days to accept the invite and in the process managed to put me in a constant state of anxiety. Still, I think my brilliant idea to move the party to my house will totally raise my popularity at school.
Friday
After class, I went by to see Tom at his house. He’d just come back from the hospital, and the doctors had given him a lighter cast and some crutches. That meant he could come to my party! Then my mom took me to FiestaGalore to buy decorations. She really tried to give me the piñata we’d forgotten to use for Lisa’s ninth birthday, but when she saw my face, she realized it wasn’t worth pushing. We also went to the supermarket to get some drinks and salt and vinegar chips. And guess what? Marion even offered to take care of the music. I told her she could—but no tricks, OK?
My plan was going off without a hitch when suddenly I started feeling REALLY guilty. . . . What about Raoul? I imagined him all alone in his room Saturday night while the rest of the class was having a total blast at my house. Was that really what I wanted—me, Max, the bighearted person and genius of the future? I sent him a text:
I went and asked my mom to try to convince Raoul’s parents. I was sure that she’d find just the right words so that they’d let him come. She thought that my request to include him was very generous. Apparently, Raoul’s mom is really involved with school. In elementary school she chaperoned all of the field trips, she managed the booths at the fundraiser, and she organized the annual school carnival. This year, in sixth grade, she ran the Reading Passion club, a group that was “deeply appreciated” by the principal. My mom told her on the phone that she was sure the party would be a good opportunity for Raoul to make amends with his class . . . and she volunteered to help with one of the reading sessions in exchange for Raoul’s participation in my party.
Saturday night . . . late
The party was a total success! Tom came a little early to help me blow up balloons. Then everyone else showed up. Even Enzo Danleau was there, although my mom called his mom three times to reassure her that everything would be OK. Naïs and Célia came a little late. Naïs was pretty, even with her new poufy hairstyle. Raoul Kador arrived last. After about five minutes, he called for silence. His parents had made him write an apology speech to us, which he droned on about like the school principal.
Marion put the music on. At one point in the night, Damien Chico wanted to propose a dare. I thought, “Not another one—that bites!” But actually, it was a game. The idea: one girl and one guy had to slow dance with each end of a licorice rope in their mouths. They had to nibble at the candy until they kissed. Louison rushed over to Raoul and invited him to dance, Tom went over to Célia—hopping on one leg—and . . . me? I held out my hand like a perfect gentleman to Naïs. I was afraid I was about to be totally ignored, but she accepted! Marion put on a slow song, and we started dancing with the licorice between our teeth. My heart was beating out of my chest, but I was able to keep my cool. I’d almost eaten half of the rope, and I closed my eyes to kiss Naïs.
But all of a sudden, the song was interrupted by the voice of Ben Didji screeching out across the room. When I opened my eyes, I saw that Lisa had replaced Marion, who was off sending a text to her friends. It was all messed up again, but this time I had the feeling there was something between Naïs and me.
At the end of the night, everyone signed Tom’s cast before leaving. And that old slug promised me that he’d kissed Célia, but I don’t believe him for a minute.
Sunday
Dear future human,
Sixth grade is over. And if I look back on it, I think I can say that my first year in middle school ended on a HIGH NOTE, despite all the obstacles. Tom and I made it through, and, best of all, next year we won’t be the little twerps anymore! Tom and I had a great idea. (You must be thinking, “Again?!”) We decided to take an old shoebox, fill it with all of our memories of this year, and bury it behind the wall in the secret passage—in the vacant lot.
We wrapped the box in plastic bags, and as soon as we added the last shovelful of dirt on top, Tom and I were both a little sad. So, we decided to dig it up at the end of seventh grade and replace it with a box of memories from that year. Isn’t that a GREAT idea?
Dear future human, I’m sure that you’ll be able to put all of your mementos in a hermetically sealed space capsule. . . . But until then, see you next year!
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All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of reprints in the context of
reviews. Published in French under the title Ma Vie en Smiley: Tout. Va. Bien.
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