by Annie Bryant
Sincerely,
Avery Madden
Dear Avery,
Thank you for your suggestions. You have taken this assignment to the next level by suggesting change that affects more lives than your own. I hope you won’t mind if I use your letter as an example for the class on how letter writing can make a difference. I think the topic of “Other” would be a great discussion item for Social Studies, and I’ll suggest it to Mr. Danson.
Great work!
Sincerely,
Ms. Rodriguez
Charlotte Ramsey
School Rule Assignment:
Dear Ms. Rodriguez,
I am very disappointed that only 8th and 9th graders are allowed to be on the school paper. You know, a great many 7th graders have important things to say. And some 7th graders may be really good writers, as well. I would like to propose that we have a special section in the school newspaper devoted entirely to the 7th grade—created, written and produced by our class. By having our own page, we would feel more a part of the school, and less like “the new kids on the block.”
Sincerely,
Charlotte Ramsey
Dear Charlotte,
Charlotte, you raise a very valid point. I don’t know when and how that rule started, but I promise to look into it with Ms. Knowland and get back to you.
Thank you for your creative suggestions. Perhaps, you can begin to think about how you might get other students involved, and what that page might look like.
Sincerely,
Ms. Rodriguez
Maeve Kaplan-Taylor
School Rule Assignment:
Dear Ms. Rodriguez,
I think junior high would be way better if dance music was piped in first thing during homeroom. My two reasons are:
60 Minutes did a story that showed that teenagers have a hard time functioning before 10 a.m. And, they didn’t even bother to test kids like me who have a hard time functioning before noon. But I can tell you one thing for sure. 7:50 a.m. is absolutely impossible for everybody at this school. I have personally seen people asleep, with disgusting drool coming out of their mouths many times during morning announcements (Henry, Dirk, Amber, FYI…)
Great music could put us in a better mood for first period, so we’re ready to learn. In fact, I have never seen a person in a good mood during first period—except for Betsy Fitzgerald, who acts like she’s perfect. (And, I don’t think the rest of us should have to live up to that.)
Sincerely,
Maeve Kaplan-Taylor
P.S. I would be more than happy to volunteer as DJ.
Dear Maeve,
I see your point about music as a way to pep up students first thing in the morning. I can assure you, there’s nothing more depressing than facing a room full of blank stares during first period. I would like to have you “DJ” the morning announcements on a trial basis. Let’s plan your debut for a special occasion when your music and what you have to say will be a celebration of something important. I’ll let you know when.
Sincerely,
Ms. Rodriguez
After Ms. Rodriguez handed back all of our suggestions for changing a school rule, she said it was important that we spend some time talking about them as a class. “Does anyone want to comment about what it felt like to imagine changing a school rule?” she asked, standing in front of the class, half-sitting on her desk.
Betsy Fitzgerald’s hand shot up. “I really enjoyed this assignment,” she said.
Dillon Johnson groaned. “It figures,” he hissed to Pete.
Ms. Rodriguez gave Dillon a warning look. “I want everyone to feel free to speak what’s on his or her mind. Please, no put-downs,” she said firmly.
“Rules are important, though,” Betsy continued. “I bet the school has to think long and hard about all sorts of things.” She smiled a little primly. “It’s like my dad always says—if we didn’t have red lights, people could just drive through intersections and kill each other. And then where would we be?”
Pete snorted, and Ms. Rodriguez put her hand up. “Betsy has a point. A society needs rules. Rules are one way that we agree about how we’re going to live together. But on the other hand, sometimes rules get outgrown…or dated…and it’s up to us to think about whether or not they need changing.”
Joline’s hand shot up. “I think we need more privileges. Lots of middle schools start in sixth grade. Just because we’re the youngest class here doesn’t mean we’re babies. Some of us are thirteen!”
“I hear your concern, Joline,” Ms. Rodriguez said mildly. “Any other thoughts?”
“Some rules make sense,” Nick Montoya remarked. “Others seem…I don’t know, like they’re just there for the sake of being, you know, rules. Like we should just have rules.”
“I like that comment.” Ms. Rodriguez smiled. “I noticed, when I was reading through your suggestions, that some of you suggested changes that would affect you personally.” A few people looked a little sheepish. “Some of you tried to think about the bigger community, too. Both are OK,” she added. “And part of the point of this exercise was to get all of you to start thinking together as a community. What rules do you value? Which ones do you want to work together to change? Remember, it’s a lot harder to change a rule than to put one in place. If you care about making a difference, you’re going to have to figure out a way to work as a team.”
Anna shot Joline a look which clearly said “yuck.” I liked what Ms. Rodriguez was saying, though. Better yet, I liked the fact that she was clearly listening to us when we talked. And she didn’t seem to have made her mind up yet about what she thought. I liked that too.
CHAPTER 17
KATANI
The Four Corners
My parents say I should host one of those TV shows where you make over someone’s house while they’re out getting coffee. I redecorate Kelley’s and my room all the time.
As soon as school was over, we all rushed to Charlotte’s. Pulling my wheelie-bag full of supplies up the hill was a killer, especially in high boots. By the time we got there, I was a mess.
The front hall was quiet and empty, just like Saturday night. I didn’t get it. Why would anyone have such a beautiful downstairs dining room and living room and not use them? If that were my mahogany table and crystal chandelier, we’d be eating there every night.
Once in the Tower, the girls didn’t exactly follow my directions. When I told them we had to clean, Maeve cranked up the music and kept lip-syncing, using the broom as a pretend microphone. Avery tied dust rags on her sneakers and skated in circles. Charlotte wouldn’t leave the telescope platform.
I was getting frustrated. I put my hands on my hips, snatched the broom from Maeve, and blurted out, “Unless we get rid of these cobwebs, we’ll have spiders in our hair!” That did the trick. Team Clean got to work.
After a while, the place smelled great and in spite of the fooling around, the Tower was really coming together. Charlotte had polished the telescope until it was so shiny I could have used it for a makeup mirror. I had to give that girl credit; she had even put sachets she made out of French lavender in every corner.
“Now for the real fun,” I said, opening up my bag.
Avery ran over. “Got any food in there?”
She wrinkled her nose when I pulled out some fabric for my window. “What’s that frilly stuff?”
“Window treatment,” I said.
“No treats?” she asked, disappointed.
I stood in the center of the room and announced, “There are four windows, four window seats, and four of us.”
“Destiny!” said Maeve, putting her hand on her forehead and striking a dramatic pose. “West!” she said. “I want a view toward sunsets, and Hollywood.”
“I don’t get it, Maeve. Why do you want to go to Hollywood anyway? And why be a movie star? It’s so…shallow.” Avery shrugged. “I don’t know. All they think about is what they look like and how much money they get paid. It’s kinda sick.”
Avery rolled her eyes. “So what does sophisticated have to do with helping kids?”
Maeve looked indignant. “Not Sabrina, silly. She’s just a character. But the real Audrey Hepburn was amazing. She was a famous actress and she helped poor kids all over the world…for the United Nations. Like Angelina Jolie. She does that too.”
“Yeah?” Avery didn’t look completely convinced.
“I’m going to do that too. In fact I’m going to get started on the helping-people-out part first,” Maeve said suddenly. “It’s never too early. Then when I’m famous I can just keep it going. And people will know it’s the real deal because I will have been doing it for so long.”
Maeve was really getting excited. She twirled around. “I know I can’t really travel around the world yet. But there’s still a lot I could do around here.”
“There is?” Avery looked skeptical.
“Definitely! I could…I could…I’ll think of something,” Maeve stopped still, deep in thought. “I will, you’ll see.”
Avery snorted. “Maeve saves the world while she becomes the star of stage and screen.”
“Don’t be so negative, Avery! I’m serious! There are homeless people, sick kids…old people. They need our help. They really do. It could be so great! You know, kids our age working together to help people in need.” Her eyes shone.
I laughed. “Girl, I can hear you now. Oprah’s going to love this.”
Maeve looked defensive. “OK, OK. Go ahead and make fun of me. But, you just wait. You guys are going to be all over this once I get this going.”
I pointed her toward the window to the left at the top of the stairs. I’d already chosen the one I wanted: The view of the Charles River behind the dome of the Business School. Someday I’m going to go there. Only my grandma knows that I’ve already planned out my business. I’m going to start a chain of personal advice and fashion makeover centers for busy women. I’ve even started to build a website with tips for bringing out everyone’s inner beauty. As I always say, it’s all about attitude.
Avery parked herself on the window seat overlooking Corey Hill Park.
“Hey you guys!” she yelled. “Look at this! I can see the soccer fields! Cool! You’re not covering this up with those window treats. Stay away, Katani.”
Charlotte let the rest of us go first. But she seemed happy with the window that was left: a view to the skyscrapers of downtown Boston. The sun glinted off the glass of the Hancock Tower. Beyond that sparkled the Atlantic Ocean. You could even see the runways of Logan Airport and a plane taking off.
“Perfect for you, Global Girl,” I said.
“It is perfect,” she whispered. “Over near that gold dome of the State House are the swan boats my mother used to take me to in the Boston Public Gardens. I still have the picture.”
I couldn’t imagine not having a mother. Even though my mom’s a lawyer and works all the time, she’s never missed tucking me in, no matter how late she gets home.
“Let’s decorate Charlotte’s area first,” I said. “What do you want up here?”
Charlotte’s green eyes lit up.
“My writing supplies!” she said. “I love writing with a view.”
“You got it,” I said. “Come on girls.”
How hard could it be to get writing supplies up here? Famous last words. The drawers in her desk were labeled: Writing Materials, Chocolate Stash, Journals, and Jewelry Making Stuff. Each one overflowed with Charlotte’s treasures. I’d never seen so many different kinds of chocolate from bits to bars to kisses.
“What are you planning to do,” I asked, “open a candy store?”
“Yum!” said Avery.
“Pour moi?” asked Maeve, biting into a Godiva chocolate.
The jewelry drawer was loaded with sea glass from Australia, beads from Africa, and ribbons and buttons from France. What a pack rat. She must have had ten journals, every color fountain pen, as many ink bottles as I have nail polishes, and also sealing wax, stamp pads, markers, airplane barf bags, and bulging scrapbooks.
When we had filled bags with everything from the drawers and carried them to the Tower, Charlotte said, “I can’t wait to start writing.”
“Honey,” I said, “you better write the next Harry Potter after what it took to get all that stuff up here.”
“Whoops,” she said. “Forgot one thing.”
“Noooooooo!” said Maeve. “No more!”
“Don’t worry. I’ll get it myself.”
She ran downstairs and came back wearing a stylin’ vintage denim jacket.
“My lucky writing jacket,” she said.
I tacked up silk fabric above my window, and then I lined up my nail polishes, from clear to midnight blue, on my window seat. That swivel chair would make a great makeover center, a great place to launch the business I’d always dreamed of. Maybe I could even make up some business cards someday.
Avery lay on her stomach on her window seat, twiddling her thumbs, and looking out the window. “Next time, I’m bringing my Nerf basketball hoop so I can practice.”
“Well, I’m going to make this whole area in front of my window a stage,” said Maeve.
“There’s a surprise,” I said.
Maeve ignored me. She was busy lip-syncing.
Charlotte was trying to attach something to the wall beside her window but was struggling with the tape.
“No wonder,” I said, ripping her a piece. “You don’t have any fingernails.”
“I got the idea of hanging quotes the day I was in your grandmother’s office,” Charlotte said.
I was quiet. Now that we were friends, I was feeling a little guilty about how I had treated her that day. “Here, let me hang it up for you,” I said.
“Thanks, Katani.”
“No problem. What’s it mean anyway?” I asked. It was written in French and English:
Les yeux sont aveugles; il faut chercher avec le coeur. The eyes are blind; one must search with the heart.
—Saint-Exupéry
“It’s from a book called The Little Prince,” Charlotte said. “I read it in France, but they also have it here at the Book Nook in English.”
I didn’t know exactly what it meant but it reminded me of Charlotte. You had to look past her glasses and her disasters to appreciate her. She was like her house. They both had great bones. They just needed me to redecorate.
“Hey Maeve!” called Avery from the telescope platform. “I can see your mom. She’s running out of the movie theater. That’s so cool…”
Maeve stopped dancing on top of the window seat.
“Now she’s getting into the car.”
“Oh my gosh,” said Maeve, looking at her watch. “I’m late for Hebrew School.”
Just then her phone started playing “Tomorrow” from the musical Annie.
“Yes, Mom. Sorry. I know. I’ll meet you at the bottom of Corey Hill in about two minutes.”
Maeve air-kissed Charlotte on both cheeks.
“Au revoir, ma cherie.”
“Au revoir, Maeve. How do you know French?” asked Charlotte.
“From the movies…I learn everything from the movies!” said Maeve.
“And don’t forget her role model, Miss Piggy, speaks French,” joked Avery.
“I’ll squash you later,” laughed Maeve. “Ciao!”
“Bye, Maeve,” we all shouted as she clattered down the stairs.
“I gotta go too,” said Avery. “Soccer practice.”
“Can you stay, Katani?” asked Charlotte.
“Just to write up my decorating To Do list. Then I want to catch the ‘T’ before people start coming home from work. I hate being packed in a crowded subway car like a sardine.”
Decorating To Do List:
1. Bring Windex and paper towels to polish mirror
2. Bring neck cushion for makeover chair
3. Bring extra pair of heels for teaching the girls how to walk with attitude
4. Bring makeover emergency kit…just in case.
K
CHAPTER 18
AVERY
Countdown to the Weekend
2:09. 2:10. 2:11. Would the bell ever ring? Would the weekend ever get here? I couldn’t wait to sleep over at Charlotte’s again. For a week we’d been going to the Tower whenever we were free. My practices and Maeve’s lessons were major roadblocks. That kid takes more lessons than anyone I ever met in my life.
Mr. Moore was droning on and on and on. “The color of leaves is determined by the process of photosynthesis…”
Why couldn’t we roll around in the leaves instead of talking about them? He sounded like he was holding his nose when he talked.
“What is the function of chlorophyll?”
Maeve was clicking away on her laptop, taking notes. If it were me, I’d probably be playing solitaire. I can’t believe how hard she works.
“I’m going to be passing back the quizzes on scientific methods and theories now,” he said. “A few of you did exceptionally well.” As he shuffled along the rows, handing out papers, I leaned forward in my seat to check out people’s grades. Henry Yurt had failed again but at least he was improving. Last quiz he got a zero. This time he got a two. Must have remembered to sign his name.
“Sit down, please, Avery. Other people’s test scores are their own business.”