I dropped my apple and groaned. I did not want to be in a competition against Sloane. Madison turned toward Serena and said, “I didn’t even know that Sloane played basketball.”
“She doesn’t,” said Serena. “I bet she just likes the idea of getting to boss everyone around. You know how she loves being the center of attention.”
I closed my eyes and put my head down on the table, feeling the cool smooth surface against my forehead. Think. From this position, I could smell mustard and the slightly pasty smell of noodles. I could also see Talent, sitting by herself. She was reading a book while she ate a sandwich.
“Are you okay?” asked Madison.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said, taking a deep breath and sitting back up. “Okay, here’s the plan. Nobody should say anything about me trying out for captain. Let’s just keep this our little secret.”
Madison and Haley nodded in agreement. Serena, however, looked sheepish.
“Oh,” she said. “I wish you’d said something sooner.”
Sloane didn’t wait long. She found me after school the next day while I waited for Madison to go back for her jacket.
“Hey, Lucy,” she said, all fake-friendly. “I heard you’re going out for captain of the basketball team.”
“I might,” I said. The less I said, the better.
“You do want the sixth grade to win, don’t you?” Sloane asked, looking serious.
“Sure.” Where was she going with this?
Sloane licked her lips and moved in for the kill. “I do, too. I just don’t want the team to come up … short.” She took a step toward me, forcing me to tilt my neck back to look at her. Did I mention that Sloane is extremely tall?
“I don’t think we have to worry about Lucy coming up with anything but a win,” a voice said behind me. I hadn’t heard Madison come up.
Sloane acted as if she hadn’t heard Madison. “Listen, Lucy, if this were for something like, I don’t know, math team, you’d get my vote in a heartbeat. But think about it. If you make captain, and the team loses, everyone is going to blame you, ’cause who ever heard of a basketball team lead by some short Chinese girl?”
I rolled my eyes at her, but my heart felt like it had fallen into my stomach. First my dad and now Sloane.
Madison cut between me and Sloane. “That is a racist …”
“Don’t call me a racist,” Sloane said sharply. “I’m not saying I believe it, I’m just saying that’s what other people think.”
“I, for one, don’t think that’s true, and I’m sure most people would agree,” said Madison. “And I don’t think we have to worry about losing because Lucy actually plays basketball, unlike some people, and she’s pretty good at it.” Madison looked at Sloane pointedly.
“Yeah, I know,” said Sloane dismissively. “Ms. Phelps got all the girl jock wannabes, didn’t she? You guys and Serena, too. But really, who do you think the boys would really like to listen to?” She gave her thick hair a little toss, in case we had missed her point. “I really am thinking of what’s best for the team. No offense.”
“Let’s just take it to the free-throw line, okay, Sloane? Lucy’s already in training, putting in fifty free throws a day,” retorted Madison. “I haven’t seen you put up a decent free throw ever.” This was Madison’s loyal side coming out, though I really wanted to whisper, Not right now!
For the first time, Sloane’s cool demeanor dropped. “Have you really? Been putting in fifty a day?” asked Sloane, her sleek eyebrows rising in surprise.
I nodded, trying to look as if I didn’t care. Sloane turned to go. “Have it your way. I just thought that if we knew who the captain was early, it would be better for the team.”
“Whatever, Sloane,” I said to her back, although I didn’t really want her to hear me.
Madison fumed all the way home. She basically said three things over and over. “She doesn’t even play basketball!” “You’ve totally got to go out for captain now,” and “Who do you think the boys will listen to?” When she said the last phrase, she swung her ponytail around dramatically, imitating Sloane.
“She’s delusional,” I said weakly.
“Yeah,” said Madison. “You’ll show her. You’ll mop up the court with her. You’re way better.”
While I was pretty sure that I was better than Sloane at basketball, I was even more sure that I didn’t want to be Kendrafied.
We reached Madison’s house. She reached up and opened the mailbox, took out the mail, and closed the door with a smooth click. “Want to come in?”
“Not today,” I said. I wanted to be alone.
“See you, Lumpy Warrior,” she said.
I froze. Did she say warrior? I felt more like a coward with each passing minute.
“See you, um, Mouse Jeans.”
Madison wrinkled her nose. “Not your best one.”
No kidding.
When I got home, I ran upstairs to my room and dove onto the bed.
BAM! My face thudded against the open jewelry box I had left near my pillow that morning, looking for the perfect pair of earrings. Ow! I wasn’t sure what hurt more, the hard sides of the jewelry box or the prickly, pointy edges of the jewelry itself.
Stupid jewelry box. I picked it up and tossed it onto my desk. The box bounced against a pile of books and fell to the floor, spilling necklaces and earrings on the way down.
My side of the room looked the way I felt. Jumbled, messy, slightly out of control.
I stood on my side of the wall and looked at Yi Po’s side. It was orderly and tidy, but not in an overly fussy way. The covers of the bed were smooth and flat, like the ocean on a calm day. Her nightstand had two books, a clock, and a glass of water.
I wondered if she felt the way her side of the room looked: peaceful and simple. And I wondered what she thought of me on my side of the room.
The following day we had a spelling test. Ms. Phelps always scheduled spelling tests first thing in the morning, so I hurried to my seat to take one last look at the words.
WHAM! For a second, I didn’t know what had happened, and then I realized that I was sitting on the floor. And my butt really hurt.
Ms. Phelps hurried over. “Are you okay, Lucy?”
“I think so.” I got to my feet and looked down. One of the back legs of my chair was sticking straight out of the back.
Ms. Phelps picked up the chair and examined it. “I hope the other chairs don’t malfunction.” Malfunction was one of our spelling words.
“I’m sure it’s just this one,” I told her. But I was thinking of Sloane. Bu hao yi si.
Madison leaned over and whispered, “Are you okay? You didn’t hurt your shooting hand, right?” She grinned at me. My stomach tightened and squeezed. Maybe that’s exactly what Sloane had wanted to happen.
“Settle down,” said Ms. Phelps. “Get out a clean sheet of paper and a pencil for your spelling test.”
Or maybe it was just an accident. Accidents happen. Please, please be an accident.
“Unnecessary,” called Ms. Phelps. “A winter coat in the summer is unnecessary.”
I wrote the word down as my brain came up with another sentence.
Getting on Sloane’s bad side was unnecessary.
Friday was library day. I tossed my book in the return slot and started looking over the Recent Arrivals display. I needed something new to read for my thirty minutes of reading every night. Madison headed over to the history section. Harrison — as much as I could tell without being obvious about it — was looking at Sports Illustrated. I wondered if he was going to go out for the basketball team.
Mrs. Anderson, who has been the librarian at Westgate since before Regina went to school, was just adding a book to the display. She has at least half a dozen pairs of glasses in different colors to coordinate with her outfits. Today she had on a pair of red glasses and a matching red jacket. “Looking for something particular?” she asked. I shook my head.
Mrs. Tibbs’s class was also at
the library. Sloane was holding court with the Amazons at a table near the windows. “Hi, Lucy,” Sloane called over a little too loudly. She tapped an empty chair at the next table. “Come and have a seat.” They all burst out laughing.
I had actually double-checked my seat that morning, putting my backpack on it first to see if it would fall down. So it had been her. I turned around and walked away so they couldn’t see my expression.
“Girls,” Mrs. Anderson called over to the Amazons. “Is there a problem?”
“Oh, no, Mrs. A.,” said Sloane in a cheerful, good-girl voice. “We just wanted Lucy to sit with us.” One of Sloane’s friends, Nadia, let out a snort.
I don’t know if there’s a word for how I felt, unless there’s a word for when you feel angry, embarrassed, and scared all at the same time. I grabbed the first book I saw and then looked around for Madison.
“It was Sloane,” I whispered. “She must have loosened the screws in my chair.” Madison flipped open the book she was holding so we could pretend to be discussing it.
I was kind of hoping that Madison would say, It was Sloane? That’s scary. You better not try out for captain. But Madison made a deep growling noise. I recognized that sound. She usually made it after she’d been fouled.
“Well, she picked the wrong person to mess with. You are so going to devastate her in that free-throw contest.”
Had Madison forgotten about Kendra? Sloane’s penchant for search-and-destroy missions?
“It’s over a whole month until the free-throw contest,” I said, hoping that Madison would get my point, which was: A lot can happen in a month.
“Exactly,” said Madison. “Enough time to completely perfect your technique so that you will humiliate Sloane.”
In my mind, the words in Madison’s sentence were slightly out of order. She should have said, Sloane will humiliate you.
“She knows how awesome you are,” Madison went on. “That’s what the problem is. She knows that you are going to be captain.”
You know how a really good friend, a great friend, always thinks you’re better than you actually are? Smarter, funnier, cuter, and just generally more amazing than you might realistically expect yourself to be? Madison had always been that friend for me, but I did not need that right now. I needed the friend that said, You’re a coward and that’s okay.
“Something could come up,” I pointed out.
“Nope,” said Madison. “It will be you. I just know it.”
That’s exactly what I was afraid of.
I didn’t think the day could get much worse. But then it did, at lunch.
“Um, can I sit with you guys?” Talent stood next to our table, looking hopeful with a tray in her hands. “They need the table I normally sit at for the second-grade art show.”
I looked at Madison, Serena, and Haley, and they looked back at me across the table. We had been involved in a discussion about boys and who liked who. I tried to send Madison a mental message: Please, not today.
“Of course,” said Madison, not getting my message. She scooched her chair over so that Talent could sit between her and Haley. “Plenty of room.” Even though Talent was the reason that I was missing basketball, Madison couldn’t help being nice. It was genetic.
There was an awkward silence as Talent squeezed in. No one wanted to talk about boys anymore, not with Talent there.
“So, have you picked someone for your biography project?” Talent asked Madison. We had to write a biography of someone we admired.
“Not yet,” said Madison. “You?”
Talent took a sip of milk and patted her mouth with a napkin. “I have it narrowed down to Madeleine Albright, the first female secretary of state, or Patsy Mink, the first Asian-American congresswoman.” She took a sip of milk. “They’re both so interesting. I’m having a hard time deciding. What about you, Serena?”
I wondered if Talent had a book at home: Historical Women for Boring School Reports.
Serena laughed. “Maybe I’ll just take whoever you don’t pick!” Serena liked doing her projects at the last minute.
“It has to be someone you admire,” said Talent seriously. “Maybe you should pick an Olympic gymnast. Or a really successful coach.”
Serena paused, thinking it over. “That’s not a bad idea,” she admitted.
“What about you?” Talent asked me.
“Pat Summitt,” I said.
“I’ve never heard of Pat Summitt,” said Talent. “Who is he?”
Madison covered her face. “Oh, man, you did not just say that.”
“Here it comes,” said Haley.
I glared at Talent. “She is the coach of the University of Tennessee Lady Volunteers basketball team. She is the winningest college basketball coach of all time among men and women’s teams. Pat Summitt is the coach Madison and I plan to play for because her teams have been going to the national championships regularly for over thirty years,” I said. How could Talent not have heard of Pat Summitt?
Talent ducked her head. “Oh, okay, Pat’s a she. Got it. Sorry. She sounds, um, nice.”
Madison patted Talent’s arm. “Don’t worry. When the Lady Vols win another championship with Lucy and me, you can say you knew us way back when. You can say you remember Lucy being captain of the sixth-grade basketball team.”
“Wait — you’ve been picked as captain already?” Talent looked confused.
“No, no, no,” I said. “Madison’s just being nice.” Talent was so clueless sometimes!
“Madison’s just being truthful,” said Madison. “Lucy’s developing an unbeatable free throw, which is what you need to be captain. She’s been practicing every day for weeks. No one is going to beat her.”
“Who else is going out for captain?” asked Talent.
“Sloane Connors,” said Madison. “And she doesn’t even play basketball.”
“Oh,” said Talent. She turned to me. “Then you will be captain. You deserve it.” In that split second, I almost liked Talent, just because in spite of everything, it was nice to get a vote of confidence. But then she had to go and ruin it.
“But you do know that Chinese school is more important, right?”
When we walked home from school, I was worried that Madison would bring up the free-throw contest again, but she was on to other things — we needed to plan our birthday party. After years of waiting, Halloween was going to be on a Saturday night — the perfect day to have a big bash. Madison’s birthday is October 15, sixteen days before Halloween, and my birthday is November 16, sixteen days after. It was one of those amazing coincidences that made us best friends.
“Okay,” said Madison, flopping onto her bed with a notebook. “It’s going to be here, right?”
I kicked at the rug. “We’re supposed to have it at my house. After three years of having it at your house …” I felt bad that Madison’s family kept hosting our joint party. It had always been at Madison’s house because Regina complained. “We can’t possibly have it here,” she’d whine to my parents. “I have to study.” Study was the magic word, even though studying on a Saturday night was a stretch, even for Regina.
“It’s really not a big deal, Lucy,” said Madison.
“I’m going to ask, anyway,” I said. “They should do something. I am their daughter, and they need to think of me, too.”
Madison rolled her eyes. “Your aunt’s not a piece of furniture, you know. You can’t just shove her up in the attic when you don’t want her around.”
“Don’t give me any ideas,” I said. That morning Yi Po had tried to give me some mushy rice porridge for breakfast. It looked like white vomit.
Madison went over our party list.
“Type of cake?” asked Madison.
“Chocolate,” I said.
“Check. Ice cream?”
“Strawberry and vanilla,” I said. Madison and I both love chocolate cake and hate chocolate ice cream.
“Party schedule?”
“Early dinner, put
on costumes, go trick-or-treating. Return for gifts and movies,” I said with military crispness.
“Barcroft Oaks?”
Ah, the major question of the day. Barcroft Oaks was a twenty-minute walk away. On the other hand, it was a swanky neighborhood and lots of houses gave out full-size candy bars in Barcroft Oaks. Last year, someone had given out flashlights and soy energy drinks.
“Let’s do it,” I decided. We might not be trick-or-treating again.
“Movies?”
“Halloween, Scream, and Nightmare on Elm Street.”
Madison shuddered. She has a weak stomach for scary movies. “Can we get It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown?”
“You’ll be fine,” I said.
Then we went to work on the invitation list. Haley, Serena, and Lauren were definitely in, as well as Bethany and Kelly from basketball. “Who else?” asked Madison.
Let’s invite Harrison, I thought. Just the thought of it made my stomach do flip-flops. What kind of present would I want Harrison to give me? I must have gotten a seriously goofy look on my face because Madison gave me a strange look. I quickly rearranged my expression.
“We should also invite Talent,” said Madison thoughtfully. “She would really like that.”
I rolled my eyes. “Why don’t we go ahead and invite my good friend Sloane Connors while we’re at it?” I complained.
Madison pretended to write down Sloane’s name. “Will madam be needing an engraved invitation?”
“Oh, indeed — I don’t see any other possible way,” I responded in my haughtiest voice, but thinking about Sloane made my voice quaver, just a little.
“Let’s send it in poison ink,” suggested Madison. Then she added, “Seriously, though, Lucy. Talent thinks we’re her friends.”
I sighed. “Can we talk about her later?” After lunch, Talent had to mention Chinese school to me about five more times. Are you excited about going to Chinese school? We’re already planning a harvest festival with mooncakes and everything!
“Okay.” Madison wrote down Talent’s name with a star next to it. “But I won’t forget, and you’ll be seeing her at Chinese school, so you won’t, either.”
The Great Wall of Lucy Wu Page 7