by Meg Cabot
‘Oh, fine,’ Rosemary said with a sigh. ‘I’ll do it.’
I looked up at her, tears practically shining in my eyes.
‘Really, Rosemary?’ I cried. ‘You will?’
‘Sure,’ Rosemary said with a shrug. ‘I can’t stand to see you making that Stinklechuck baby face. What do I care about a bunch of dumb snobby girls? It’s just one day. Besides. We’re buddies. Remember?’
I wanted to hug her. Except that Rosemary wasn’t exactly the kind of person you hugged.
I thanked her (except . . . what’s a Stinklechuck baby face? I wondered) and turned and was about to go running over to Team Illini when I happened to glance back at Team Shawnee one last time.
I really, really wish I hadn’t.
Because then I wouldn’t have seen what I saw.
Rule #14
It’s Important to Make a Big Entrance
What I saw was Joey Fields in his rolled-up trousers hurrying over to Team Shawnee, tripping over his own shoelaces (which had come untied, in typical Joey Fields fashion. Why can’t he just wear Velcro, like everyone else?) as he was running from the Honeypot Prairie boys’ outhouse, where he’d gone to wipe some stray throw-up off the tail of his uncle’s raccoon-skin hat.
Of course. Of course Joey Fields was on the same team as Stuart and Patrick and Cheyenne and Brittany and Mary Kay and all those people who’d been laughing at him all morning during the bus ride.
Because of course Joey hadn’t broken the rules and traded.
Which meant he was just going to get tortured for the rest of the day . . . unless someone was there to stop it.
It was all just so typical.
And of course I’m the one who’d had to turn around and look just in time to see this.
I stopped dead in my tracks.
Don’t do this, I said to myself. Don’t be stupid. I mean, stupider than you already are.
‘Wait,’ I heard myself say to Rosemary.
She glanced over her shoulder. ‘What?’
I realized how crazy what I was about to say was going to sound to her. I mean, Joey wasn’t my boyfriend. I didn’t even really like him as a friend. He barked instead of talked half the time. What did I care if he got picked on all day?
But I couldn’t help remembering the promise I’d made to myself on the way up the steps to Mark’s room the night before: that I’d become a more responsible person if Mewsie turned out to be OK.
Well, Mewsie had turned out to be OK (even if he was still inside the wall).
And here was my first chance to be a more responsible person.
I couldn’t break the rules and trade teams with Rosemary. And I definitely couldn’t do it if it meant leaving Joey all alone with so many people who were just going to be mean to him.
Because that wasn’t what a responsible person – a truly responsible person – would do.
‘Never mind,’ I heard myself saying to Rosemary. It was like my mouth was possessed by someone else! ‘I guess I don’t want to trade after all.’
‘OK, whatever,’ Rosemary said, shaking her head. Then she went to go join Sophie and the other members of Team Illini.
Who were probably going to have the best, funnest day of all time. It was probably going to be like the Dinosphere, SpaceQuest and Barbie exhibit all rolled into one.
While my own day was going to be like sitting in the principal’s office with Mrs Jones, the administrative assistant, drawing dog pictures.
My own head hanging, I dragged myself over to Team Shawnee.
Really, Stinkle. What are you doing? Your first field trip ever and you’re willingly sticking yourself on the same team as the boy who threw up on the bus, your two most mortal enemies, your ex-best friend, and Scott Stamphley?
This was your chance, Stinkle! Your chance to escape the daily grind; to find your spiritual path; to go walkabout!
And you blew it! What’s wrong with you?
I didn’t know. All I knew was, Joey was my responsibility. Mrs Hunter had stuck me in the back row for a reason: to be a positive influence.
Just because Room 209 was on a field trip didn’t mean I could take a walkabout from that.
Which was when I realized, with a sigh, that I was never going to go on walkabout.
Yeah, I might have lost my DS.
But I didn’t really care about DSs.
It just seemed to me like Taking walkabouts from people when they need you most is just about the most irresponsible thing you can do.
That was totally a rule.
As I walked over to Team Shawnee – pulling off my apron and my flannel nightgown as I went, because it was getting hot out – the schoolteacher lady was trying to get everyone on Team Shawnee to be quiet by clapping her hands and going, ‘All right now, children! Boys and girls! Now, children, we have a lot to learn today. Let’s all be quiet so I can tell you about the wonders of Honeypot.’
Oh, brother. Did this lady have a lot to learn about kids from modern times. What she really needed was a giant touch-pad screen. Or some animatronic dinosaurs. Or Barbie.
Brittany was saying in her snottiest voice, ‘So my parents are significant donors to the town community theatre. You probably don’t know this, but my father owns the local BMW dealership. So anyway, my mother just called the box office and said, “Listen, if you don’t get the costume department to loan my daughter and her friends costumes from last year’s production of Oklahoma, we’re going to pull our support.” And the next thing we knew, these totally adorable costumes were waiting on the porch – ’
Meanwhile, Cheyenne was saying to Brittany, in just as loud a voice, not even listening to her, ‘Well, I told my mother when she called her friend in the retail costume-rental business that of course I wanted a parasol. With matching fingerless lace mittens! Why wouldn’t I want that? I mean, only poor girls didn’t have fingerless lace mittens to match their parasols!’
While this conversation – to which Mary Kay was paying rapt attention – was going on, Scott and his friend Paul were bent over their DSs, going, ‘Yeah! Die! No, you die. No, you! No, you. No, you!’
Meanwhile, Stuart and Patrick were kicking up swirls of dirt from the parking lot. The dust clouds were floating over towards Joey Fields, who was bent down trying to tie his shoes.
‘Hey, Chuck,’ Stuart was saying. Kick. Kick. ‘How’s the weather, Chuck? Any dust storms coming, Chuck?’
‘Ha ha,’ Joey Fields said, coughing from all the dirt. ‘That’s real funny, guys.’
‘What’s that, Chuck?’ Patrick said, laughing and kicking dirt. ‘What did you say, Upchuck?’
‘Children,’ the schoolteacher lady was saying, clapping in a more frantic way, ‘if you don’t behave, we won’t have time to play Pom-Pom-Pull-Away!’
That’s when I came walking up.
In my reading on how to be a great actress (sometimes I alternate and read about how to be a great veterinarian, since I want to be one of those too) I’ve learned that’s It’s important to make a big entrance. That’s a rule.
That’s why I took my backpack – into which I’d stuffed my wadded-up nightgown and T-shirt, along with my notebook of rules – and threw it down as hard as I could into the dirt next to where Stuart and Patrick were standing.
This made a satisfyingly loud noise. It also caused a large amount of dust to rise up into the air, making Stuart and Patrick cough.
‘Oh no!’ I made a very big Oops! shrug with my shoulders, like I hadn’t meant for this to happen. ‘Sorry!’
This is called acting.
I wasn’t lying. There’s a difference between lying and acting. Some people don’t understand that. Such as Cheyenne.
She came marching over to me, her hands on her corseted waist.
‘You did that on purpose, Allie Finkle,’ she said. ‘And you know it!’
‘No I didn’t,’ I said, making my eyes all wide and innocent-looking. ‘My backpack just slipped out of my hand.’
‘Wel
l, I don’t believe you,’ Cheyenne said. ‘I think you purposefully threw your backpack down to the ground to get Stuart and Patrick all dirty because you’re upset about them calling Joey names.’
‘Probably, considering that he’s her boyfriend,’ Mary Kay said in a loud whisper, with another one of her I’m sorry (but not really) smiles.
I really wished that Mary Kay had been standing a little closer to the dirt when I’d slammed my backpack down.
‘Really, Allie, that’s very immature,’ Brittany said. ‘These costumes have to be professionally cleaned, you know.’
‘Children,’ the schoolteacher lady said, clapping her hands some more. ‘Please! If you don’t stop this bickering, we won’t have time for—’
‘Yeah,’ Patrick said. ‘You’re not the boss of us, Allie
Stinkle.’
‘No,’ said a voice behind us, ‘she isn’t. But I am.’ And we all turned to see Mrs Hunter, her green eyes
crackling with anger.
Rule #15
Tattling on People Is Kind of Mean. Unless It’s for a Good Reason
‘Mrs Hunter,’ Cheyenne said, pointing at me. ‘Allie threw her backpack down in the dirt and it got dust all over Stuart and Patrick.’
Patrick held up his arm. ‘It’s true. Allie got dirt in my scab.’
Tattling on people is kind of mean . . .
‘Because they were kicking dirt on that kid,’ Scott Stamphley said, pointing at Joey. ‘And calling him Upchuck.’
. . . unless it’s for a good reason.
Like Scott tattling on Stuart and Patrick for what they were doing to Joey.
Don’t even ask me why Scott Stamphley, of all people, would come to my defence.
Because I honestly have no idea.
Especially since he hates me.
‘Really,’ Mrs Hunter said, her green eyes crackling even harder. ‘Well, that hardly sounds like the kind of behaviour I would expect from a Team Shawnee member. Perhaps you boys would like to join Mr Curtiss and spend the rest of the day cleaning the bus floor.’
Patrick quickly put his arm down. ‘I wouldn’t like that at all,’ he said.
‘No, thank you,’ Stuart said, his face starting to turn red.
‘Mrs Hunter,’ Cheyenne said. ‘It’s true, Stuart and Patrick were calling Joey names. But Allie just stomped up and threw her backpack down, and then lied and said it slipped from her fingers. It was extremely rude! You know she has these immature outbursts from out of nowhere all the time.’
‘I agree,’ Brittany said. ‘If I may be frank, I know Allie from when she used to go Walnut Knolls. And it’s always been my observation that she should be held back a year. I mean, she and her friends came to school today in their nightgowns.’
I felt my face turning as red as Stuart’s . . . but for a different reason of course.
I couldn’t believe my trying to do the responsible thing had led to this.
Also I had a very bad feeling that I knew what was coming next:
Mary Kay was going to whisper-shout something about my book of rules.
Why not? I could see her, standing next to Brittany, trying very hard not to look at me. She was staring at the ground, the rim of her bonnet hiding her face.
But it was obvious from the way her fingers were rubbing the material of her lace-trimmed apron that she was just waiting for the right moment to spill the beans again about my very private and personal business. She’d already told everybody Joey was my boyfriend (a total lie).
What was keeping her from telling everyone something that was actually true?
Well, if she opened her mouth about it, I decided, I was going to tell on all of them for trading teams, even though Ms Myers had forbidden it. Those girls had to have traded to all end up on Team Shawnee like this. Mrs Hunter had to be able to see this. Maybe she didn’t know that Brittany and Mary Kay and Lauren and Paige were all friends.
But she obviously knew that Cheyenne and Marianne and Dominique were. She had to do something about it. It wasn’t fair –
Except that before I got a chance to say anything about it, Mrs Hunter said, ‘Well, if I may be frank, ladies, I’d like to make an observation of my own. And that’s that I’m not seeing very much teamwork at all here on Team Shawnee. In fact, I’m seeing the opposite of it. So I think I’ll take it upon myself to see if I can’t do a little something about it.’
‘Oh,’ Cheyenne said quickly, ‘we’re practising teamwork, Mrs Hunter. See?’
And she put her arm around Brittany’s waist really fast.
‘How nice,’ Mrs Hunter said. ‘But that isn’t exactly the kind of teamwork I had in mind. It’s my understanding that part of the Honeypot Prairie experience is getting to know your neighbours, just like the early settlers did, back when they needed one another’s help with putting out wildfires and fending off attacks from wild boars. Isn’t that so, Mrs, er . . .’
‘Higginbottom,’ the schoolteacher lady said. ‘And it certainly is.’ She nodded so hard, her bun fell down a little.
I saw Cheyenne exchange glances with M and D. Brittany did the same with Mary Kay, Lauren and Paige.
I could pretty much read their thoughts. They were thinking the same as I was:
What was about to happen here?
‘So I think the best thing to do,’ Mrs Hunter said, ‘would be to assign each of you a buddy right now, someone for you to spend the rest of the day with, someone for you to get to know much better – ’
‘Exactly,’ Mrs Higginbottom said enthusiastically. ‘I think that is a splendid idea.’
‘Great,’ Mrs Hunter said.
This was when my heart gave a great big unhappy plop. Because I could tell what Mrs Hunter was about to do.
And I wasn’t going to like it. No one was.
Not at all.
‘You,’ Mrs Hunter said, pointing at Brittany. ‘You’re going to be his buddy.’
Then she pointed at Lenny Hsu.
‘What?’ Brittany’s face, beneath her bonnet brim, fell.
Lenny, glancing up from the book on dragons he’d been deeply engrossed in during all this, didn’t seem too happy about the arrangement either.
‘You,’ Mrs Hunter said, pointing at Patrick. ‘You’re going to be her buddy.’
And she pointed at Paige.
Paige looked like she was going to be the second person on the field trip to throw up.
‘Do I have to?’ she asked faintly
‘Well,’ Mrs Hunter said, ‘you traded to be on this team. Didn’t you?’
Paige looked a little faint.
‘We told you the punishment for trading was going to be severe,’ Mrs Hunter said.
‘Excuse me,’ Cheyenne said, raising her hand, even though we weren’t in class. ‘I volunteer to be his buddy.’
And she pointed at Scott Stamphley, her other hand going to her ringlets as she smiled at him adoringly.
Scott Stamphley turned as red as my nightgown.
Then he stepped quickly towards Joey, the person standing closest to him (besides his friend Paul). ‘I volunteer to be his buddy,’ he said, indicating Joey.
Mrs Hunter hesitated. It was pretty clear she was punishing everyone by not letting anyone be buddies with someone they actually liked.
Joey looked up at Scott – who was almost a head taller than he was – and said, in a worshipful voice, ‘I’ll be your buddy, Scott.’
‘Fine,’ Mrs Hunter said. ‘If that’s what you want, Joey. You two be buddies.’
Cheyenne wasn’t the only one who baulked at this. Only I did it for different reasons than she did. Scott Stamphley couldn’t be Joey’s buddy! Scott Stamphley was . . . Scott Stamphley. He wasn’t going to be a positive influence on Joey. He was going to be a terrible influence on Joey.
Scott Stamphley was going to show Joey how to fart and then wave the fart smell in my direction. Scott Stamphley was going to teach Joey how to burp the alphabet. Scott Stamphley was going to show Joey how to fli
p his eyelids inside out and then tap unsuspecting girls on the shoulder and say, ‘Hello, may I borrow your pencil?’
These were all things I had seen Scott Stamphley do in the past, because I’d been in school with him since kindergarten.
He just hadn’t done any of them today. And so Cheyenne, who didn’t know any better, had a crush on him.
And Mrs Hunter, who hadn’t seen him do any of them, thought he might be a positive influence, like me!
But before I could warn her, Mrs Hunter was pairing off everyone else in our group so quickly that I hardly had time to register it when I heard, ‘All right, boys and girls,’ from Mrs Higginbottom. ‘Follow me back into eighteen forty-nine . . . where there was no electricity . . . there were no cars . . .
no ice for your drinks, because there were no such things as refrigerators . . . and let’s go . . . to the Honeypot schoolhouse!’
And Mrs Hunter made us get into line two by two so we were standing next to our buddy . . .
And I found myself right next to my ex-best friend, Mary Kay Shiner]
Rule #16
Speak Not Injurious Words, Neither in Jest Nor Earnest
‘I don’t like this any more than you do, Allie,’ Mary Kay whispered as we sat in the desk we were being forced to share (in olden times, there weren’t enough desks for every student to have her own, so everyone had to share). ‘But we have to do it, or we’ll get into trouble. So let’s just make the best of it.’
Make the best of it? I had to share a desk with the whiniest girl in the world . . . a girl who’d stabbed me in the back and betrayed me? Multiple times?
And she wanted me to make the best of it?
‘Oh, right,’ I whispered back. ‘You know, I forgave you about the thing with the Children’s Museum—’
‘Can’t you let that go?’ Mary Kay whispered. ‘I told you, I lost your permission slip.’ Except that she’d lost it on purpose. And never told me until it was too late. ‘Why would you give something that important to an eight-year-old kid anyway?’
‘Fine,’ I said. What was the point? ‘But that Barbie exhibit left town and I never did get to see it.’