Bessica 1 - The Reinvention of Bessica Lefter

by Kristen Tracy

  “Being brand-new is harder than I thought,” I said. “I mean, there’s stuff I miss.” When I said this, I looked directly at Sylvie.

  Then Sylvie came and sat down next to me. When Taco tried to burrow his head in my armpit again, I put him on the floor.

  “I know,” Sylvie said. “I understand.”

  That meant a lot to me. Then I felt Sylvie hug me and that meant a lot to me too.

  “I’m glad you’re here hanging out with us,” Sylvie said.

  “Yeah,” Malory said. “Sylvie is always telling funny stories about you.”

  “Really?” I asked.

  I liked the idea of Sylvie always talking about me. Because it meant she was always thinking about me.

  “Are you ready to learn some dance moves?” Sylvie asked.

  I nodded.

  “Ohh!” Malory said. “Have you ever done the robot? My brother taught me that one.”

  Sylvie and I glanced at each other and laughed. We hated the robot!

  “What?” Malory asked, looking confused.

  “No robot,” Sylvie said.

  “I agree,” I said.

  “I know! How about I teach you how to do the shimmy hips!” Sylvie said.

  Then Sylvie hopped up on her bed and shook her hips back and forth, back and forth. She got them going so fast I thought her pants might fall down.

  “Holy crud!” I said. “That looks cool. I need to put on my fur pants.”

  I slid on my pants and snapped the suspenders into place. Then I hopped up onto Sylvie’s bed and so did Malory. We both started shaking our hips back and forth, back and forth. Malory did it while holding her ferret.

  “You guys look great!” Sylvie said.

  And I sort of agreed.

  “Those fur pants look awesome!” Malory said.

  Sylvie and Malory started laughing so hard when they watched me that they had to stop shimmying. But I didn’t. I shimmied faster.

  “I think it’s the coolest thing you’ve ever done,” Sylvie said. “You do it like a pro!”

  But I couldn’t thank her. Because I was pretty breathless. I flashed her a thumbs-up sign instead.

  Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth.

  “I want to come watch you do this at a game!” Sylvie said.

  “Me too!” Malory said.

  I finally stopped shimmying because it felt like I was going to die. Also, I needed to say something.

  “I’d like that,” I said while puffing a little. Because I couldn’t think of anything better than shaking my butt like a wild animal or shimmying my hips like a pro in front of my friends.

  “Do you want me to teach you the samba?” Sylvie asked. “You’ve definitely got the hips for it.”

  I smiled.

  “What about krumping?” Malory asked. “She’d be great at the stomps and the wobbles.”

  I smiled wider.

  “Lunch is ready!” Mrs. Potaski called.

  I unsnapped my suspenders and slid off my fur pants. “I have an idea,” I said. “After we eat our sandwiches and tarts, let’s try both.”

  KRISTEN TRACY grew up in a small town in Idaho, where she learned a lot about bears. Sadly, she was not clever enough to reinvent herself in middle school. Also, technically, Kristen Tracy never went to middle school. She attended North Bonneville Junior High, where she took classes in industrial exploration (which involved lots of saws), Idaho history, public speaking, and keyboarding. Her least favorite class was PE, in which she was forced to run, tumble, hurdle, play shuffleboard, and perform the flexed-arm hang.

  kristentracy.com