B. Tell a trusted friend what you’re going through and ask for her advice. She always seems to know the right thing to do.
C. You check out some websites online that discuss the kind of problems you’re having. Maybe if you read about what someone else did, it’ll give you an idea of what you should do.
D. Keep it to yourself and try to cope on your own. It’s way too serious to tell anybody else. Maybe the problem will just go away in time.
You promised to make three dozen cupcakes for your school’s bake sale, which didn’t sound like a lot at the time, but now it seems next to impossible. It’s the night before the sale and you’re nowhere near done. What do you do? A. Call all your friends over and offer to feed them pizza if they’ll help you bake. You can use as many hands as you can get! And they’re used to you asking them to pitch in.
B. Ask your folks to help you out. They may not want to spend all night baking, but you know they’ll do it for you.
C. You make as many cupcakes as you can and then ask your parents if they’ll buy some store-bought goodies to make up the difference.
D. You make as many cupcakes as you can before your bedtime and then call it a night. You know you’re coming up short, but there are only so many hours in the day. The school will just have to deal.
Give yourself 1 point for every time you answered A, 2 points for every B, 3 points for every C, and 4 points for every D.
—If you scored between 5 and 12, go to this page.
—If you scored between 13 and 20, go to this page.
Impressive! Not everyone can admit that they like a little structure. You just don’t see what’s wrong with scheduling things in advance to make sure they run smoothly. Your friends may think you lack spontaneity, but thanks to you, you always have tickets to sold-out movies and always have a plan B just in case. You may not be a free spirit, but you rarely find yourself in situations you aren’t prepared for, and that gives you peace of mind.
Going off with Amanda is tempting, but who knows what you would end up doing? In your experience, unplanned outings end up turning into a big ol’ mess. (Remember when you and Jessie decided to have a picnic in the park at the last minute and it started pouring and everything got soaking wet? Yeah. Like that.) At least if you stick with your class, you know you’ll definitely get to see a few cool things. For all you know, Lena will talk Amanda into spending the whole day touring colleges and going over her blog.
“Sorry, guys,” you say apologetically, pulling Jessie and Lena aside. “That sounds great, but I kind of want to see the Picasso exhibit.”
“Ooooh, I get it,” Jessie says, shooting a glance over at Jimmy, who is studying a wall of hieroglyphics. “The ‘Picasso exhibit.’ Right.” She winks at you conspiratorially.
“What? No, it’s not like that,” you insist. Although you admit you have been looking forward to hanging with Jimmy in New York, that wouldn’t stop you from going with Amanda if you really wanted to.
But Jessie has already made up her mind about your reasons. “Okay, whatever you say. Have fun.” She winks once more and gives you a quick hug. “And text me with updates!”
You sigh, giving up on setting her straight.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” Lena asks a final time.
“I’m sure.”
“All right. Then wish us well as we venture forth into the abyss!”
And with that, Amanda and your friends are gone. But at least you’ve still got Jimmy, Charlie, and Lizette. Well, really just Jimmy, since Lena asked Lizette to fill in for her and help Charlie with the blog for the day while she’s gone.
Since Charlie teamed up with Lena, the blog, which started out as a personal record to demonstrate her writing skills to future college recruiters, has turned into a bona fide school phenomenon. It’s even more popular than the school paper—and almost as widely read as Amy’s gossip-filled tweets. And since Lena’s blog covers what’s going on inside and outside the school (and isn’t only about the popular kids), everybody loves it. (Thank goodness she took out some of the more secret stuff—like your crush on a certain someone—before she made the blog public.)
So while Charlie and Lizette busily take notes and pictures as they work their way through the museum, you’re content to follow Jimmy around, talking about art and school and whatever else you can think of. You two talk pretty much nonstop … until you get to the Picasso exhibit, that is.
“Wow,” Jimmy says as he enters the first room, which shows all of Picasso’s earliest work, some of it done when he wasn’t much older than Jimmy.
“So anyway, that history test last week was tough, right? I mean, I think it may have actually killed a few of my brain cells, I was concentrating so hard.”
“Uh-huh,” Jimmy says, barely looking at you.
“I mean, I’m thinking of running for class president just so I can get tests with three or more essay questions banned.”
“Mm-hm,” Jimmy grunts. “Yes, great.”
Okay, he is totally ignoring you. And you can see why. Jimmy has his trusty sketchpad out and his hand is moving across it as if it’s attached to a robotic arm instead of a klutzy thirteen-year-old with paint under his nails. Being around this many of his favorite artist’s paintings has really gotten his creative juices flowing and right now, he barely notices that you’re in the room.
Oh well. Guess you’ll just have to wander off and check out the paintings on your own. You’re staring at one huge canvas from Picasso’s cubist period when someone steps up next to you, crosses his arms, and says, “What is that supposed to be?”
You glance over and see a boy you don’t recognize. His jet-black hair and pale blue eyes are even more striking than some of the masterpieces you’re surrounded by. You would definitely remember him if you’d seen him before. He must be from one of the New York schools.
“Well, it’s a table, a bottle of wine, and a glass.”
“Where?” he says, squinting and tilting his head to the side.
You have spent so much time with Jimmy that you actually know something about these paintings. If Jimmy were paying you any mind, he’d be proud to hear you say, “See this cube here? This represents the bottle, and this here is the stem of the glass.…” You show him all the elements, pointing from about a foot away. (Mark Bukowski has already been yelled at by one of the guards pacing the room not to get too close to the artwork, and there should definitely be no touching!)
“Dude, why didn’t he just paint a real glass, bottle, and table? My six-year-old little brother could draw them better than this.”
“Because,” you say, getting a little defensive over one of your favorite pieces of art, “Picasso believed in breaking down shapes as much as he could without the object becoming unrecognizable.” Whoa. You didn’t even know that knowledge was in your brain!
“Huh,” the boy grunts. “You really know your stuff. Maybe I should stick with you.”
“Yeah, maybe,” you say smoothly.
“Maybe not!” a shrill voice says behind you. Groan. You don’t even have to turn around to see who it is. Mona Winston.
“Paul, where have you been?” Mona continues. “Your teacher has been looking for you. Your class has already moved on to the next room.”
Paul? Oh no. This must be the infamous Paul that Mona has been bragging about all morning. And here you are, daring to talk to him.
“Aw, shoot, really?” Paul says, glancing into the next room. “Okay, thanks, Mona.”
Mona smiles broadly, her perfect white teeth gleaming under the soft track lighting in the room. “Any time.”
Paul turns to you and extends his hand, which you shake with your own. “I’ll see you around,” he says.
You nod dumbly as he strides away, rejoining his class.
When you look back at Mona’s face, her usually flawless alabaster skin is red and blotchy, and she’s crossing her arms tightly over her chest. “Look, you’d better leave him alone,” Mona or
ders. “Can’t you see he doesn’t want to talk to you?”
“Uh, actually, he talked to me first,” you correct her. “What’s it to you, anyway?”
“Just back off,” Mona says fiercely. “Find someone else to bore to tears.” With that she huffs and goes stalking away.
“That was awesome!” Amy Choi says, suddenly by your side.
“ ‘Awesome’ is not the word I would use,” you say miserably. “What is her problem, anyway? Isn’t he the guy that she said worships her and that she was going to have a hard time shaking? She should have been happy to see him talking to someone else.”
Amy shakes her head and pulls out her phone. “You can’t believe everything she says. You should know that by now. All that talk she was doing about Paul worshiping her is really because she worships him.”
“No way.” Mona isn’t the only one you usually can’t believe. Amy is like a professional gossip and doesn’t always check her sources before she reports the news. She once spread the word that Lizette’s twin cousins, Celia and Delia, weren’t actually sisters because she’d heard one accuse the other of being adopted.
“I can prove it,” Amy says smugly, clicking a few buttons on her phone and shoving the high-resolution screen in your face. In front of you is a picture taken over someone’s shoulder. A fine, pale hand is holding a gel-tipped pen (Mona’s fave) and doodling over and over again: MW + PR. “I passed by her seat on the bus and clicked that when she wasn’t looking. PR stands for Paul Renner. And you, my friend, were just caught flirting with him.”
“But I wasn’t!” you protest. “I was just talking to him.”
“I guarantee you Mona doesn’t see it that way.”
Great.
You’ve never thought of yourself as a controversial person, and yet you seem to be causing controversy left and right. First you shock your friends by choosing to stick with your class trip instead of heading out on a New York City adventure. And then you manage to cause yet another classic Mona meltdown just by talking to someone. It turns out that Mona has an actual crush on a guy, which is news to you. But does that mean she gets to treat you like pond scum? It’s hard to see things her way, but can you do it? Take the quiz and find out.
QUIZ TIME!
Write down your answers and tally up the points at the end.
When you write short stories in your creative writing class, you like to include: A. as many characters as you can. Half the fun of writing fiction is getting to explore lots of different personalities and figuring out what would motivate different characters.
B. a close-knit group of friends that you can base on your real-life friends. You know what makes your best buds tick, so it’s easy to write about characters just like them.
C. two characters, tops. It’s hard enough to get inside one character’s mind. Two is about all you can handle.
D. one character that is pretty much based on you. It only makes sense that you would write from your own point of view.
You’re watching a really sad movie about a boy who finds out his dog is sick. How do you react? A. You cry like a baby. Even though you’ve never had a dog, you can imagine what it must feel like for someone you care about to get sick.
B. You’re upset for the boy but stay dry-eyed. You’re just thankful you’re not going through that in real life.
C. You’re a little sad because you hate to see sick animals. But you get over it as soon as the movie is over.
D. You don’t feel much of anything. It’s just a movie, after all.
You’re on a crowded bus on your way home, and the bus driver is going so fast that it seems like he’s taking the turns on two wheels. Thank goodness you were lucky enough to score a seat. But the pregnant woman standing in front of you wasn’t. You decide to: A. get up and offer her your seat immediately, not taking no for an answer. Just by looking at her, you can tell how uncomfortable she is, and you’re betting her back is probably aching too. You know she’d be grateful to be able to rest her feet.
B. wait a few minutes to see if anyone else offers her a seat first. If they don’t, you have no problem doing it. (It sure was nice sitting down for a while, though!)
C. halfheartedly offer her your seat, mumbling so that she can barely hear you. If she can hear you, you kind of hope she says, “No, thanks.” After all, you’re tired too. What makes her more deserving of a seat than you are?
D. pretend you’re asleep. You don’t want to feel pressured to give up your seat. And the woman looks healthy and strong, anyway. You’re sure she’s fine.
You were chosen to be one of the captains in gym class today for a game of volleyball. As captain, you get to choose your teammates, two at a time. When it gets down to the last six, there are two great players, two okay players, and two girls who usually spend more time hiding from the ball than hitting it. You choose: A. the two girls who are volleyball pariahs. Being picked last stinks, and you would hate to do that to girls who get picked last all the time. That might seem like a terrible move to your teammates, but you think of it as an investment. You know they’re scared, but you can turn these two into grade A players (or at least get them to the point where they don’t duck every time the ball comes to them).
B. one of the great players and one player who needs work. Who better than the great player for the weak player to learn from?
C. the two okay players. You want to win, but you don’t want anyone to think it’s just because your team is stacked.
D. the two great players, of course! You’re all about forming the dream team, and anyone who stands in your way better watch out!
Your five-year-old cousin Camille is going to be in a four-hour dance recital and she really wants you to come and see everyone in her dance school strut their stuff. Do you attend? A. Of course! You know how proud she is of her school and how good she’ll feel if she looks out into the crowd and sees your smiling face—and maybe a giant poster saying Go, Camille! You also know how scared she’ll be if she has to face the crowd alone. You’ll stay from beginning to end and cheer as if you’re watching the American Idol finale.
B. Well, sure. It’s hard to say no to that cute little face. You’ll go and stay until you see Camille perform. You may not stay the full four hours, but at least she’ll know you were there.
C. If you must. You’ll go and watch her part, but you pretty much fall asleep for the rest of it. (Four hours? Come on! Not even jazz hands would keep you awake for that many tap numbers.)
D. Doubt it. Sitting there for four hours is just cruel and unusual punishment. Besides, you’ve seen her practice a million times. No need for you to see it again onstage. You offer to pick her up afterward and do something you both consider fun, like buying some hot new shoes. Now, that you could spend four hours doing.
Give yourself 1 point for every time you answered A, 2 points for every B, 3 points for every C, and 4 points for every D.
—If you scored between 5 and 12, go to this page.
—If you scored between 13 and 20, go to this page.
Good for you! You’re not too proud or afraid to ask for help when you really need it. You know that getting a hand now and then doesn’t mean you’re not capable, but that no one can do it all on their own. Just make sure you don’t automatically seek help before you’ve even given it a try yourself. How will you ever know your limits if you don’t test them out once in a while?
“What do we do now?” Lena says in a panicky voice that is not at all like her. “We lost Amanda!”
“And we have no idea where to go, either,” Jessie adds, biting her pale pink lips nervously.
Even worse, all the native New Yorkers around you seem to know exactly what they’re doing. Why are you three the only ones freaking out?
“Lena, can you call Amanda?”
“I tried,” she says, sounding like she’s about to cry. “But I’m not getting any cell phone reception down here.”
“We need help,” you say decisively. “We’ve got
to get to that conductor.” As you got shoved onto the train, you could see the conductor hanging casually in the window at the tiny room at the end of the car. You grab one of Lena’s hands and tell her to grab Jessie’s, nudging your way between the clusters of people packed like sardines between you and the conductor’s booth. “Come on!” you say, totally taking charge.
It’s a struggle, and you’re pretty sure you step on a couple of feet along the way, but eventually you make it to the end of the car and knock on the shiny metal door.
After a minute, it swings open and a dark-skinned woman in a light blue shirt and black pants pokes her head out. “Yes?” She eyes you and your friends curiously.
“We need help,” you blurt out. “Back at the last stop, we got separated from her cousin”—you point your thumb at Lena—“and now we can’t even call her because we have no cell phone reception. What do we do?”
The conductor nods knowingly, as if this happens all the time. “Don’t panic, girls. Just get out at the next stop and go upstairs so that you can call your cousin. Or I can call transit security instead.”
“You mean the police?” Jessie screeches, her eyes going wide.
“That’s what I mean,” the conductor says, stifling a yawn and reaching for a walkie-talkie.
“No, that’s all right,” you tell her quickly. “We’ll try to call Amanda first. And if we can’t reach her, we’ll call the police.”
“All right, ladies,” the conductor answers, not looking too concerned. “Good luck.” With that she closes the metal door again, and minutes later the train pulls into the next station, Fifty-ninth Street and Lexington Avenue. Thankfully, lots of people get off here so you don’t have to fight too hard. You follow the Exit signs that lead up the stairs and out into the sunlight, where you finally allow yourself a deep breath.
Your Life, but Sweeter Page 3