So Totally Emily Ebers

by Lisa Yee

  “Well, duh,” Millicent said. “Libby Stout. Stout’s. Get it?”

  I couldn’t wait to tell Alice!

  Millie was in a wonderful mood. Last night, she found out she’s going to be a big sister. She called me after midnight to give me the news.

  “I was the first person Millicent told!” I said to Libby.

  She raised her water glass and said, “Here’s to best friends and big sisters!”

  Libby was still sitting in the booth when we left.

  “I can’t believe you are dragging me to a basketball game played by people sitting on donkeys,” Millie muttered as I hurried her along.

  “Yes, but I can’t miss seeing my boyfriend in the game, can I?”

  “I knew that you and Stan-Turd would be boyfriend/girlfriend from the moment you met. There was plenty of foreshadowing,” she said smugly.

  By the time we got to the gym it was already crowded. I gripped Millie’s arm. Rancho Rosetta is so much bigger than Wilcox Academy, and the students looked older and more sophisticated. But even though there were hundreds of people milling around, somehow Stanford spotted us immediately.

  “Are you nervous about the game?” I asked.

  “Nope.” He looked so totally swoon-worthy in his red-and-gold basketball uniform. “It’s weird, once I get on the court, I feel right at home. Actually, I feel better than at home. I’ve never ridden a donkey before, so I’m not sure how that’s going to go. And all the other guys are eighth-graders, I’m the only seventh-grader on the team, so I’m hoping they don’t reject me, because if they do, my basketball career is in the toilet.” He paused. “Uh, I guess I am nervous after all.”

  When the buzzer rang I screamed. Stanford laughed. He has a nice laugh. “See you after the game, Emily. I gotta go!”

  We shook hands, and I watched him run off. I noticed Julie and the Triple A’s staring at me with their mouths hanging open. I turned and saw Wendy in the bleachers with some other girls. She waved to me.

  “Want to sit with Wendy’s group?” I asked Millie.

  “No thanks. They’re your friends, not mine. Besides, they don’t want to sit with me. You go ahead, though, if that’s what you want to do. I’ll just sit over here by myself. Alone.”

  “Stop being ridiculous, Millicent. I want to sit with you. But next time we’re both sitting with Wendy and her friends. You need to branch out more.”

  From our seats I could see everything. The Roadrunners, minus Digger and Stanford, were across from us. Stretch nudged Gus, who stood up and yelled, “Helloooooo, Emily Ebers!”

  Stanford must have told his friends about me! I tried to act cool as I waved.

  “Don’t you think any of them are cute?” I asked Millie.

  She hesitated and finally said, “Six at two o’clock, okay? Now leave me alone.” That’s the highest ranking she’s given anyone. It was for the boy named Tico, the short one with the big smile who Wendy says is really nice.

  The Hee-Haw Game began with the Teacher Team coming out and acting all goofy. It must be a fun school if the teachers are willing to ride donkeys. Then the A-Team players were introduced one at a time. Stanford was last, and he got the most applause.

  Before getting on his donkey, Stanford waved to me. I turned to Millie.

  “He just waved at me.”

  “Wow, what talent.”

  I have never enjoyed a basketball game so much before. Actually I had never been to a basketball game before. Even so, I knew that something special was happening every time Stanford got the ball. He was really good. No, that’s not right. He was really great, and it wasn’t just me who thought that.

  I wonder what it would feel like to have crowds cheer for you? It must be pretty amazing. I’m sure the Talky Boys had that happen all the time when they were at the top of the charts. I feel bad that Dad’s tour didn’t end up the way he had hoped. I wonder if he misses the applause?

  As Stanford and his team played, I screamed so loud I almost lost my voice. Even Millicent stood up and shouted, although she was rooting for the teachers. At one point she actually shrieked, “Pass the ball!!! PASS THE STUPID BALL, YOU STUPIDHEADS!!!” then immediately slapped her hands over her mouth.

  “Well?” I asked when the game was over. The A-Team slaughtered the teachers.

  “Statistically, Stanford is an excellent player,” Millie conceded.

  Just then I spotted Stanford in the center of the crowd. He pushed his way toward us. “Did you see that last basket I made?”

  “Yes, yes, we all saw it, Stanford,” Millie said, sounding bored.

  “It was spectacular,” I gushed, although what I really meant was, “You’re spectacular.”

  When I got home I took out my Stanford Wong Collection and added one Hee-Haw Game ticket stub. But first I wrote on it: “We won.”

  SEPTEMBER 4

  Dear Diary,

  I spent the day wandering around Rancho Rosetta. All the places that were so foreign to me a few months ago now felt familiar. Before heading home, I stopped to see Millicent.

  “Here, I got this for you,” I said, handing her a bag.

  Millie opened it cautiously. “What is it?”

  “It’s a teddy bear of your own. Everyone needs a stuffed animal. I’ve named him Einstein, but you can change that if you want.”

  “Einstein,” she mused. “Einstein, that’s perfect. Thanks, Emily.” She gave me a hug.

  “You’re welcome, Millicent.”

  Mrs. Min invited me over to dinner, but I already promised Alice I’d eat with her. Millie and I made plans for a sleepover on Friday. Before I left she said, “Emily, I’ve been giving this a lot of thought. Perhaps your father didn’t call you because he couldn’t. Perhaps something was holding him back.”

  “Like what?”

  I listened to her theory and nodded.

  “You are pretty smart,” I said.

  “That’s what they say,” Millicent replied, grinning.

  As I headed home, I put a couple of quarters in a parking meter that was about to expire. Old habit, I guess. I wonder if Dad still gets lots of parking tickets? I loved how when I’d race out to feed his meter, he’d say, “That’s my girl!”

  When I walked into the dining room I was in for a surprise. On the table were two stuffed Cornish hens alongside a three-bean salad and homemade potato latkes with sour cream.

  “Are we having company?”

  “Nope, just us,” said Alice. “I’ve made chocolate rugelach for dessert too. This is to compensate for all the frozen dinners we’ve been eating. I think we deserve a feast, don’t you?”

  As I sat down I realized how hungry I was. I bit into a latke. It tasted better than anything I had had all summer.

  I looked over at Alice. She raised her glass. “Here’s to new beginnings.”

  “New beginnings,” I echoed as our glasses clinked. This was as good a time as any, I thought. “Alice, I was wondering … Well, I’ve been thinking about this for a long time, and I was wondering if …”

  “What is it, Emily?”

  “I was wondering if it would be okay to call you Mom again.”

  Alice stared at me like I had said something shocking.

  “Oh, Emily …” her voice cracked. “Of course, of course, honey. I would love for you to call me Mom.”

  She began to cry, but interrupted herself to say, “Don’t worry, these are happy tears.”

  It was almost bedtime when the phone rang.

  “Emily, telephone! It’s a boy. Stanford Wong?”

  “Mommmm,” I said, as she handed me the phone. “May I please have some privacy?!!!”

  “Okay, but only talk for ten minutes, then you have to get to sleep.”

  “Hi Stanford!”

  “Hi Emily! Are you ready for school tomorrow?”

  “I’ve figured out what I’m going to wear, but I’m a little nervous.”

  “Don’t be
,” he said. “I’ll be there.”

  It seemed like we had just started talking when Mom yelled, “Emily, it’s been way past ten minutes.”

  “I have to go now, my mom’s on my case. Good night, Stanford.”

  “Good night, Emily.”

  “Okay, you hang up first.”

  “No, you hang up first.”

  We both waited another ten minutes since we didn’t want to be the first one to hang up. Finally we agreed to count to three and then hit the off button.

  Lanford, TB, and I crawled into the bottom bunk. I hadn’t slept there in ages, but Mom wanted to tuck me into bed.

  “Stanford Wong?” she asked as I scooted over so she could sit down.

  “He’s my boyfriend.” I was glad it was dark so she couldn’t see me blushing.

  “Aren’t you a little young to have a boyfriend?”

  “Mom!” I groaned as I buried my face into Lanford. “I’m not a little kid anymore.”

  “No, I guess you’re not. Just take things slowly, okay?”

  “Mother!”

  She stroked my hair. “What does Millicent think of Stanford?”

  “She thinks he’s okay,” I said. Though neither will ever admit it, they are good friends. I can see that.

  Mom’s hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she was wearing her tattered blue bathrobe. She smelled like orange soap.

  I remembered when I was little, and how she’d always check the closet for monsters before tucking me into bed. And then we’d talk and before she left, Mom would always kiss me on the forehead.

  I hesitated, then said softly, “Mom, you’re never going to leave me, are you?”

  “Emily Laura Ebers, I’m surprised you haven’t figured it out yet. I’m impossible to get rid of! Sweet dreams, honey.”

  “Good night, Mom. I love you.”

  “I love you too, Emily,” she said, then she kissed me.

  After she left, I turned up the radio in time to hear Lavender murmur, “Perhaps there’s someone in your life who can’t find their way … Here’s a song by Cyndi Lauper called ‘Time After Time.’ ”

  That’s when it occurred to me. I used to feel so lost, but not anymore. I knew exactly who I was and where I was. Just like I knew that my mother would always be there for me, and I would be there for her. And that Stanford Wong would always be my first big crush. And I also knew that despite, or because of, our differences, Millicent Min and I would always be friends.

  What I wasn’t so sure of was where I stood with my father, and that made me sad.

  SEPTEMBER 5

  Dear Daddy,

  It’s after midnight. I’ve been thinking a lot about something my friend Millicent told me when I left her house tonight. I was really upset earlier this summer when you didn’t phone after you returned to New Jersey. But she thinks you didn’t call right away because you were embarrassed that the tour didn’t work out the way you had planned.

  It’s funny. We all have these grand ideas about how things should be. And when they don’t turn out the way we want them to, we start acting weird or freak out or get paralyzed. I think I did all three this summer. Yet it doesn’t have to be that way.

  School starts tomorrow and I should be asleep. Instead, I’m writing this letter. I wasn’t going to send my journal to you, but I’ve changed my mind. Even though we are far from each other, I still want to be a part of your life. You don’t have to call or write back. But if you ever feel lost or lonely, or just need someone talk to, you know where to find me.

  Love always,

  Emily

  Want more from Rancho Rosetta? Keep reading for a look at Warp Speed!

  “Marley was dead, to begin with.”

  Marley was dead, to begin with? What kind of stupid opening line is that? A Christmas Carol is supposed to be some sort of classic novel about a ghost, but I didn’t have to read another word to know that it was a classic waste of my time.

  My name is Marley. You know, like that famous dog. However, my mother claims I was named after Crandall Marley, the writer whose book swept the literary world … after he committed suicide. So there you have it. I share my name with a dog, a dead guy, and a ghost. Is it any wonder my life sucks?

  The sun is starting to set as I approach the school parking lot and spot a bunch of donkeys. They don’t look very happy. I’m sure they’d rather be out in the woods, or on a farm, or wherever donkeys hang out — but instead they’re going to be forced to play basketball.

  I’m not a basketball fan. I don’t even know why I’m here. I hate basketball. There’s still fifteen minutes before the Hee-Haw Game begins, but as I make my way into the gym I can see that it’s already packed. I spot Ramen off in the corner by himself. He’s my best friend by default, since neither of us really has any other friends. It looks like he finally got a new Star Wars T-shirt. I duck behind some kids before he sees me. I don’t feel like listening to him talk about Star Wars all night. A guy has his limits.

  As I push my way up the bleachers, I get punched in the arm three times. This started last year. Some guy hit me for no reason, and now he and his two idiot sidekicks do it all the time. I call them the Gorn, after the evil slow-moving beasts who first appeared in “Arena,” Star Trek: The Original Series (a.k.a. TOS), Season One, Episode 18. The biggest Gorn is the leader. His head looks like a giant pink grapefruit, he’s got a beak nose, and he’s missing a front tooth. The middle Gorn is missing part of his left eyebrow. He hits the hardest. The smallest Gorn is crazy scary, laughs like a little girl, and appears to be missing a brain. All of them have shaved heads and wear letterman jackets with no letters on them. They used to play football, but got kicked off the team for not playing by the rules. Each time any of them lands a punch, they high-five. Forget touchdowns — just hit Marley instead.

  From up here I can see swarms of kids buzzing around, checking each other out. The eighth graders control the left side of the gym. Some of them are bigger than the teachers. The football players are huddled together near the front door. (At our school, the only thing bigger than football is basketball. Basketball is huge.) The kids who look like preschoolers are the incoming sixth graders. They’re really short and don’t even try to disguise that they’re thrilled out of their minds to have finally made it to middle school. Everything is exciting to them. The lockers! The cafeteria! Tiggy the Tiger, our school mascot!

  The row I’m sitting in is full of popular kids. No one seems to mind that I’m here. For once I feel sort of cool. Coach Martin stands in the middle of the gym. Why are all the P.E. teachers out of shape? He adjusts his Dodgers cap, then blows his whistle until everyone quiets down. Coach Martin loves that whistle. I’ll bet he sleeps with it. I’ll bet he blows his whistle when he takes a dump.

  “Tonight’s the big Hee-Haw Game,” he shouts into the microphone. There’s a high-pitched squeal. Everyone covers their ears. Coach Martin is standing too close to the loudspeakers, causing them to re-amp and give off feedback. He takes a few steps back. “It’s the A-Team against the faculty, and as you know, everyone rides donkeys. Hey, guys,” he says, motioning to the basketball players, “if you give us teachers a break we’ll go easy on you when school starts tomorrow.”

  The crowd laughs like he’s said something funny. I try laughing too, and turn to Dean Hoddin, who’s on my left. We sat next to each other in science last year and were partners on the earthquake project. I did most of the work. Dean’s popular, meaning he can’t walk down the hallway without a dozen kids saying hi to him.

  “Coach Martin’s pretty funny, don’t you think?” I say to Dean. Maybe we’ll be partners again this year in some class. It went pretty well last year and he was thrilled when we got an A. He even said to me, “You’re okay.”

  Dean stares at me blankly. Maybe he didn’t hear me. The acoustics in this gym are awful. Everyone’s talking and Coach is tapping on the microphone. I repeat louder, “Coach Martin’s pretty funny,
don’t you think so, Dean?”

  “Do we know each other?” he asks, loud enough for everyone around us to hear.

  I feel my face heat up. “Sorry, I thought you were someone else,” I mumble.

  As Coach Martin babbles on, the girl on my right taps me on the shoulder. Everyone thinks Julie is the most beautiful girl at school. From the way she acts, it’s clear she agrees with them.

  “Do you mind if we change seats so I can sit next to Dean?” Julie asks as she flings her blonde hair over her shoulder. She used to do this all the time in math. It’s her signature move.

  “Oh. Oh, yeah, sure,” I tell her. I have to admit she is beautiful. My heart is racing, and I hate myself for that. “We had math together last year.”

  “Whatever,” she says as she scoots next to Dean. I sit down on her other side.

  Someone else taps me on the shoulder. “Do you mind changing seats so I can sit next to Julie?” one of her followers asks. She smiles at me and bats her eyelashes, then blows a bubble-gum bubble almost as big as her head.

  “Sure,” I say as the bubble pops. She gives me another smiles as she stuffs the gum back into her mouth and changes seats with me.

  This happens four more times, until I’m sitting at the end of the bleacher. It’s so crowded that I’m almost falling off. I hear laughter and look around to see what’s so funny. Then it hits me.

  Everyone is laughing at me. I’m the joke.

  I laugh too, like I’m in on it instead of being made fun of again. Besides, what are my choices? If I didn’t do anything, they’d keep laughing, and if I cried, well … that’s not an option.

  I climb to the top row of the bleachers. I can see better from up here anyway. I reach into my pocket. Yep, I’ve still got my Captain Kirk action figure. Kirk’s so cool. He’s courageous and confident, and he commands total respect from his crew on the USS Enterprise.

  Coach Martin introduces the basketball A-Team members. Stanford Wong is last. He gets the biggest roar from the crowd, even though he’s the only seventh grader on a team full of eighth graders. Stanford’s some sort of hero just because he can throw a ball through a hoop. Big deal. Those donkeys play basketball too and nobody treats them like royalty.