The Charming Life of Izzy Malone

by Jenny Lundquist

  “He’s been looking over here every two seconds,” Violet complained. “I don’t know how you’re going to get away.”

  “He’s not our biggest problem,” Daisy said, sitting down on the other side of Violet. She glanced over at me. “Nice hair, Izzy. . . . Okay, first, we have the politicians”—she pointed to Mom and Mayor Franklin, both of whom were smiling tightly while Principal Chilton talked to them—“Mayor Franklin’s in a really cranky mood—she’s been yelling at students over the tiniest things—and as soon as Izzy’s mom got here, she joined right in. I think they’re having a silent contest over who can be the strictest chaperone. Principal Chilton is actually telling them both to tone it down. Also, the school is locked up tight from the outside. The only way in is through the double doors leading from here into the library hall. So right now, our biggest problem is the Hammer. Look.”

  Ms. Harmer had planted herself in front of the double doors like a sentry on watch. She was yelling at an eighth-grade boy and girl huddling in the corner to get away from each other.

  Violet added “Hammer” to her list of annoying words, and I said, “We’ll worry about her in a minute.” I turned back to Violet. “Do you have your bracelet with you?”

  She nodded and patted her jeans pocket. We’d both agreed we’d follow Mrs. Whippie’s instructions to the letter. As soon as I completed the task, we could add both the jukebox and paint palette charms to our bracelet. My part of the task was to actually do the beautifying. Violet and Daisy’s part was to keep an eye out and alert me if someone was coming my way.

  “What do you need us to do?” Daisy asked as we all stared at the Hammer.

  “We need to get her away from the door somehow,” I said, thinking hard. “We need to create some kind of distraction.”

  Just then, Mr. Barnaby walked by Ms. Harmer. He briefly took her hand and squeezed it, then kept on going.

  I’m pretty sure my jaw hit the floor.

  “What. Was. That?” Daisy asked.

  We both turned to stare at Violet, who shrugged glumly. “She and my dad are dating.”

  “Your dad is dating the Hammer?” Daisy asked, wide-eyed.

  “They have been for a while, but they don’t want anyone to know yet. That’s why I stole her keys. I wasn’t supposed to be in her class, but somehow the request got lost, and when class schedules came out they didn’t want to make a big deal about it.” Tears filled Violet’s eyes. “I got so sick of listening to her every day—I had to do something to get away from her.”

  “I’m so sorry, Violet.” I pulled a crumpled tissue out of my pocket and handed it to her.

  “Hey . . .” Daisy smiled mischievously. “I’ve got the perfect way to make Violet feel a whole lot better, and get Izzy past those doors.”

  “How?” I asked.

  “Never underestimate the power of the press.” Daisy turned to Violet. “Do you have your walkie-talkie?” she asked, and Violet nodded. “Good. The two of you go and wait by the refreshment table. Izzy, as soon as Ms. Harmer moves, make a run for it.”

  “Yes, sir.” I saluted, and a couple girls passing by gave me strange looks. After Violet and I stationed ourselves behind the punch bowl, Daisy marched up to the double doors and stopped in front of Ms. Harmer. She timed it perfectly. Right as she yelled, “I saw Mr. Barnaby holding your hand. Are you two dating?” the music ended abruptly.

  The room went silent. Ms. Harmer paled. “Daisy, you’re being inappropriate. My private life is just that: private, and none of your business.”

  “I disagree.” Daisy produced a pen and a small notepad from her pocket. “I think the readers of the Grapevine have a right to know your intentions concerning Dandelion Hollows’ youngest widower.” She clicked her pen. “Care to comment?”

  “Daisy, you’re making a scene.” Ms. Harmer glanced around the room. Every face stared back at her. Except for Mr. Barnaby, who was frantically gesturing to the sound guy and telling him to start the music again.

  “It’s okay if you don’t want to comment, Ms. Harmer. I’ll just go and ask Mr. Barnaby.” With that, Daisy spun on her heel and waded through the crowd. “Mr. Barnaby! Can I talk to you?”

  “Daisy—wait!” Ms. Harmer took off after her, just as the music started up again.

  “Go!” Violet said. “Call me on your walkie if you need anything.”

  Quickly, I slid through the doors, the music fading behind me as I walked down the corridor, excitement building within me. This was it! Operation Earn Your Charm was on!

  The can of paint and the towel I was using as a drop cloth were both still in my locker, undisturbed. The paint was orange; not an exact match to the orange underneath the gray wall near the library, but close enough. I’d found it in Mom’s craft closet in the garage.

  In no time I had everything set up. I dipped the brush in the can and hoped my fellow students would be so excited when they came to school on Monday. Ever since I’d read Mrs. Whippie’s third letter I’d known that if I had to beautify something, it was going to be this wall. It seemed to me that the old orange paint was just bursting to get out, trapped as it was underneath all that boring gray. Maybe if I showed everyone how beautiful this wall could be, it would convince them to do away with all the gray walls at Dandelion Middle. Maybe one day there would be no more gray walls, ever!

  It was a small wall, just a connecting section between two longer walls, so it didn’t take too long, and I used a stepladder from the janitor’s closet to reach the upper half. I waited for the paint to dry (mostly, anyway) then stuck some star stickers in the middle.

  A little color to brighten everyone’s day, courtesy of the Star Bandit!

  I quickly washed the brush off in the girls’ bathroom and stowed it and the paint can and towel back in my locker—I’d smuggle it all home on Monday. When I was finished, I took the walkie-talkie and signaled Violet:

  “Stargazer to Wordnerd, do you copy?”

  A few seconds later, the walkie squawked to life. “I copy, Stargazer.”

  “Mission accomplished. Am I clear to reenter the gym?”

  “Negative, Stargazer. The extraction point is blocked. Stand by for instructions.”

  I waited for a few minutes and wondered exactly how Violet was going to get the Hammer away from the double doors again.

  “Stargazer, this is Storybreaker, do you copy?” This time it was Daisy on the other end.

  “Storybreaker?”

  “If you and Violet can have code names, then so can I,” Daisy answered impatiently. “Stargazer, proceed immediately to the extraction point. The way has been temporarily cleared.”

  I hurried up the hallway and slid back through the double doors, hoping no one would notice me. I needn’t have worried, though. The night was back in full swing, and the dance floor was crowded. Violet was over by the punch table, helping a shaken-looking Ms. Harmer clean up several spilled cups, loudly apologizing for knocking them over. Daisy was helping them, and Mrs. Menzel, the school librarian, was saying she’d go to the janitor’s closet for cleaning supplies. I figured I should stay away from Ms. Harmer, so I skirted the edge of the room. A slow song was playing, and I stared out at the dance floor.

  Austin was slow dancing with Stella Franklin.

  All at once I felt like crying. Or yelling at Austin. I wasn’t sure which, and I wasn’t sure why. What did I care if Austin wanted to dance with Stella the Terrible? Except . . . a part of me wondered why, if Austin wanted to slow dance with someone, didn’t he ask me?

  Wait . . . did that mean I actually wanted to slow dance with Austin?

  My face felt flushed, and my insides felt all tingly and twisty. . . . Did that mean I had a crush on Austin? I considered the signs:

  a. My palms were sweaty.

  b. My heart was racing.

  c. I felt like I might puke at any moment.

  d. I also felt a nearly uncontrollable urge to punch both Austin and Stella in the face.

  Darn it!

>   I guess some girls might be excited to discover they had their first crush. But I just wanted to run away and never come back to school ever again.

  “Where have you been?” Daisy appeared next to me, Violet at her side. “We’ve been looking for you.”

  “I’ve been right here,” I said, watching Austin and Stella. “I’ve been here this whole time.”

  Did Austin have a crush on Stella? Maybe crushes were like that big sinkhole at the edge of town: They just opened up one day out of nowhere, and if you didn’t watch your step, you could fall right into them. Maybe Austin had fallen into a crush, and Stella had just happened to be standing there when it happened.

  How did these things happen?

  “So?” Violet said. “It’s done?”

  I pulled my gaze away from Austin and Stella. “It’s done.”

  Violet nodded, and together we pulled out our bracelets and charms. “Ready?” Violet asked.

  “Ready,” I said.

  We both paused; it felt like a formal moment. “We have earned our charms,” I said solemnly, and we began hooking them onto the gold chain. Then we held out our wrists. The charms seemed to catch the light and shine. I felt my chest lighten, and I decided not to think about Austin and his terrible taste in dance partners.

  “When am I going to get a bracelet?” Daisy grumbled. “I want to be a part of your charm school too.”

  “I’ll write Mrs. Whippie a letter tonight,” I said.

  “Those are really pretty bracelets,” said a voice behind us.

  I turned around and saw Sophia Ramos. She was wearing her dark brown hair back in sparkly barrettes and was staring at us tentatively, like she wasn’t sure she should come any closer.

  “They are, aren’t they?” Daisy said. “And I don’t even like jewelry.”

  “Where did you get them?” Sophia asked, seeming encouraged. “Because they look a lot like—”

  “He’s done it again! The Star Bandit was here!”

  We all turned to see Mrs. Menzel come bursting through the double doors. Her face was purple, and a few hairs had sprung loose from her bun. The sound was cut, and the room went silent.

  “What do you mean?” Ms. Harmer said, putting an arm around Mrs. Menzel.

  “I went . . . to the janitor’s closet . . . by the library,” Mrs. Menzel wheezed. “He tagged it. . . . He left star stickers all over the place.”

  Ms. Harmer, along with Mom, Mayor Franklin, and several students, pushed through the doors to go get a look. Violet and Daisy turned to me, uncertain expressions on their faces.

  “Mrs. Menzel seems pretty upset,” Violet whispered. “What is she talking about? What did you do?”

  “Nothing,” I said, glancing meaningfully at Sophia, who was staring at us.

  But Violet didn’t seem to notice or care. “Izzy, what did you do?”

  “I painted a wall orange,” I said. “I don’t see what the big deal is.”

  “That’s brilliant!” Daisy said. “That’s a way better story than I ever could have hoped for. . . . ‘The Star Bandit Strikes Again!’ ” She framed the headlines with her hands. “Or how about, ‘He’s Back!’ ”

  “Are you two crazy?” Violet said. “Izzy, I thought you were going to clean up the bathroom or something. You mean you vandalized a wall?”

  “I painted the wall. There’s a big difference. Aren’t you sick of staring at puke-gray walls?”

  “Puke isn’t gray,” Daisy put in. She wrinkled her nose. “Unless maybe you’ve just eaten rotten oatmeal.”

  Violet looked like she was about to puke. “Do you know how much trouble we could get into?” she whispered furiously. “Dad is still mad at me for stealing the Hammer’s keys, and neither of them are in a good mood right now after the stunt Daisy just pulled—”

  “Hey, wait a minute!” Daisy said.

  “—and if they find out I helped you vandalize something—”

  “I wasn’t trying to vandalize anything. I was trying to—”

  “To beautify it, I know! But only a chronically weird person would think—”

  Violet clapped a hand over her mouth, but it was too late. The word “weird” ping-ponged between us. It felt like an arrow every time it hit me.

  “Who are you calling ‘weird’?” I said. “You forget I’ve been to your house—you painted your bedroom walls purple!”

  At the other end of the room, a commotion was steadily growing. Mom and Ms. Harmer returned to the gym. Mom appeared to be issuing instructions to Principal Chilton and Mr. Barnaby. Candidate Malone to the rescue. I wondered if it had occurred to her that she could snag a few extra votes if she handled this well.

  “Izzy, I’m sorry,” Violet said. “I didn’t mean—”

  “You guys can talk about this later.” Sophia, who had been silently watching us all this time, spoke up. She leaned in and lowered her voice. “Izzy, there’s orange paint on your shoes.”

  I looked down and, sure enough, a splatter of orange dots marched over Carolyn’s black ballet flats.

  Violet and Daisy glanced at each other, and they seemed to make a silent decision. “Go home, Izzy,” Violet whispered. She glanced at Sophia. “Before someone notices your shoes and says something to a teacher.”

  Sophia stared back at her. “I’m not going to say anything.”

  “I’m not supposed to walk home by myself,” I said. “My mom said I could either wait until she was done chaperoning, or I could walk home with Austin Jackson.”

  But walking home with Austin was no longer an option. Not with orange paint splashed on my shoes. And definitely not when I might possibly have a crush on him. In fact, it was debatable whether or not I was ever going to speak to him again.

  Sophia stepped forward. “I’ll walk you home.” She glanced over at Violet. “And I won’t say anything to anyone, I promise.”

  “Are you sure?” Violet said.

  Sophia nodded. “I’ll call my mom on my cell and have her pick me up from Izzy’s house.” She paused, and added, “She’ll be happy I actually talked to someone tonight.”

  While other students clustered into groups, excitedly talking about the Star Bandit, Sophia and I quietly left and headed for my house. I didn’t understand why everyone was getting so upset.

  After all, I was just trying to bring a little more color to the world.

  19

  ODD VISION

  Dear Mrs. Whippie,

  I completed the third task, but like the one before, it didn’t quite go as planned. I went to the dance like you asked me to, and I tried really hard to beautify something, but all most people saw was an awkward pile of messiness that didn’t fit in anywhere.

  Kind of like me.

  People say I’m weird, and right now I’m beginning to think they’re right. You know how some animals have night vision? Well, maybe I have odd vision. Maybe that’s why I feel so different from everyone else all the time. Maybe it’s because I really do see things differently. I painted a wall, and I thought it was the greatest thing ever. But Violet and everyone at school is really upset. I guess I just don’t understand why a bunch of gray walls are okay and one tiny orange wall is vandalism.

  Anyway, Violet and I aren’t speaking right now. I’m really mad at her, and I honestly don’t know if we’re still friends. But I sure do appreciate your charms, and I’m looking forward to your next letter.

  Also, my friend Daisy would like a bracelet and charms too. Is that okay?

  Your Friend,

  Izzy Malone

  P.S.: Daisy and I are wondering what “a prize unlike any other” means. Does it mean money? If so, I’d like you to know we prefer cash.

  20

  EXTRA, EXTRA! READ ALL ABOUT IT!

  Dandelion Gazette Special Edition:

  The Star Bandit Strikes Again!

  by Daisy Caulfield

  (Article first appeared in the Grapevine, Dandelion Middle’s student-run newspaper)

  This weekend the s
tudents at Dandelion Middle got more than stale cookies and watered-down punch at their annual Harvest Dance. Turns out, they had front-row seats to the site of the Star Bandit’s second target: a wall in the library hall, which the Star Bandit—your favorite troublemaker and mine—decided to paint a disarming orange color. Star stickers were stuck to the wall to make sure everyone knew who was responsible.

  The site was discovered by Mrs. Menzel, Dandelion Middle’s longtime librarian. “I couldn’t believe it,” Mrs. Menzel said, fanning herself at the memory. “An orange wall. Can you imagine?”

  Indeed, many people could imagine it, and they were none too happy.

  “It’s a disgusting display of vandalism,” Kendra Franklin, current mayor of Dandelion Hollow, is quoted as saying. “The Star Bandit is a selfish nuisance, and a disgrace to our community. I want to know how Chief Malone is handling the situation, because right now it appears he’s doing nothing.”

  Of course, not everyone thinks the Star Bandit is a nuisance.

  “I don’t see what everyone is getting so upset about,” said Coco Martin, a guidance counselor at Dandelion Middle. “I think it’s fantastic—I wish all the walls at this school were painted orange. Does anyone know if the Star Bandit is accepting orders? Star Bandit, if you’re reading this, feel free to come and paint my office. I want a beautiful wall too.”

  But though some think the wall beautiful, the Star Bandit’s artistry may have had an unintended effect: The school budget, which, according to Richard Chilton, principal of Dandelion Middle, is stretched “tight to darn-near strangling,” didn’t anticipate the cleanup costs associated with the Star Bandit’s efforts. His comments prompted sixth-grade student Olivia Vanderberg, president of Dandelion Middle’s Eco Club, to donate club funds for the paint removal. But this move has others grumbling too, as those monies were said to be designated for a class trip to Dandelion Observatory later in the year.

  “I really wish the Star Bandit had thought through the consequences of his actions,” Principal Chilton is quoted as saying.

  Whether or not the Star Bandit—whose identity still remains a mystery—is given to self-reflection is unknown, but others have seen his growing notoriety as an opportunity to drum up business. Don Donaldson, owner of Don’s Donuts, has just announced he will be serving star donuts starting tomorrow.