Poppy Mayberry, the Monday

by Jennie Brown

  “No kidding! And I’m a Thursday just like you,” I said, breaking the sudden tension.

  Ellie turned toward me and spoke matter-of-factly. “You know, I knew there was something strange going on the whole time,” she said, flicking a few strands of hair behind her neck. She turned back around and packed more pink shirts into her luggage.

  I laughed to myself. It was typical Ellie-style to act as if she knew about our secret powers all along. Looking back, though, I realized that I could have put it together sooner. Things added up. First, the way my Mom acted before I left for Power Academy. The few instances where I thought I read people’s minds—especially that confusing conversation between Ellie and me in our dorm room. I guess the paint fumes didn’t get to her, after all. The strange looks between Larriby and Grimeley. The note with Miss Maggie. Sam’s super intense Wednesday power. Although it stunk being here for the beginning of summer, I sure was glad we found out about our second power here—together—with Logan, Sam, and yes … even Ellie.

  But one thing was still gnawing at me—sure, we were all born on the cusp, but was there something more to the fact we were all born in the same exact week? It all seemed too coincidental, like there was more to this whole situation. Hopefully I would find ou—

  “Can you help me with this?” Ellie asked, breaking me from my thoughts. She was attempting to zip up her tote overflowing with kitten heels and flats.

  “No problem!” I shrugged. “After all …” I hesitated, deciding whether or not to say what I was thinking. I figured I would say it before Ellie read it though. “That’s what friends do, right?” I asked, unsure of how she would react. Sure. We had overcome a lot of drama the last few weeks—years worth—but would the niceness last?

  She paused and her eyes met mine. “Yeah, Poppy … that’s exactly what friends do,” she said, pushing together the two zipper edges. With a quick flick of my wrist, the zipper teeth buzzed together. Ellie swooped Pickle up and rubbed her little tan and gray head before handing her over to me.

  “Let’s get home,” she said.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Pickle, Logan, Sam, Ellie, Mayor Masters, Headmistress Larriby, Mr. Grimeley, and I stood outside the main entrance of P.A. waiting for our parents to arrive. Well, not really together. The three adults stood a good ten feet away from us, but I could tell by the way Mayor Masters’s arms were waving around and the looks on all of their faces that she was not happy with Larriby and Grimeley.

  “Unacceptable,” “they’re just kids,” “probation,” “a dog?” and other such phrases flew from Mayor Masters’s mouth. Headmistress Larriby just stood there in her ill-fitting red body suit, which made her look like the largest tomato on the face of the earth, wincing at every other word.

  “You’d better believe that I’ll be keeping a close eye on the two of you,” Mayor Masters continued nice and loudly. The four of us giggled. It was good to see the two of them get put in their place. It reminded me of the way Larriby yelled at me that first day in the library after that chair incident (which was a total accident by the way!). What goes around comes around.

  Sam’s dad was the first to show. Mr. Bricker was exactly as I had imagined him to be. He wore the same exact cowboy hat Sam had on. To go along with the hat, he wore a leather vest and cowboy boots with those spur thingies that clinked and clanged with each step he took packing up the car.

  “See ya in a few months, guys,” Sam said brightly. He and Logan shook hands, which still was funny to me, and then he moved on to Ellie. Before she could even dodge him, his arms wrapped tightly around her.

  “Uh … okay … bye,” she said, pushing him off. But when she turned toward me, it was easy to see that she was trying to hide a huge grin. Sam smirked, waved to me, and jumped in his father’s truck.

  Ellie was the next to go. Her lips twitched a bit. Her attempt at hiding a frown was unsuccessful. Poor Ellie. Neither of her parents even ventured out here to pick her up. The same chauffeur who dropped her off opened the town car’s door for her now.

  “Tah-tah!” she yipped, wiggling her fingers at Logan. She took a step toward me, then hesitated, obviously weighing her next move. Her mind was made up. She launched herself forward at me. Her skinny arms wrapped around my shoulders. “I am so glad to have you as a friend, Poppy.” I wasn’t sure if she said it aloud, or if it as in her head, but there was no denying that she meant it.

  She pet Pickle’s head one more time, hopped into the luxurious car, and smiled at me until the tinted windows rolled up and over her eyes.

  And then there were two. Logan and me. It was a little awkward.

  I pushed the toe of my gladiator sandal around in the dirt.

  “Maybe we could hang out over the summer or something,” Logan said, breaking the silence.

  “I’d like that,” I said, and glanced up to notice once again that a few strands of hair fell into his face. I lifted my finger and concentrated on those few pieces. Move. Move. Move. And it worked! Just like that, the hairs shifted far enough to the left that I could see every bit of his forest-green eyes.

  “Thanks.”

  I was so distracted by Logan for a minute that I almost didn’t notice Mom and Dad pull up. I swooped Pickle in my arms and ran over to greet them.

  “Poppy!” They both wrapped their arms tightly around me. “We are just so proud of our precious Monday,” Dad said, rubbing my head and messing up the bun Ellie had helped me perfect this earlier this morning. Ugh. But that didn’t really matter—it felt good to be around them again.

  “Our precious Thursday, too!” Mom said, giving me that proud-mom smile that I had missed so much.

  I waved to Mayor Masters and, yes, even Headmistress Larriby and greasy nostril-man Grimeley, too, and hopped in our car.

  Just as we were about to pull away, Logan knocked on my window. I rolled it down, and before I could figure out what was happening I felt his lips press into my cheek. My freckles burned with excitement. “See you around, Poppy!” he said through a smirk. And being the cute Friday that he is, he disappeared right then and there before I even had a chance to respond.

  And with that—I was on my way home.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  After those tremendously long days at Power Academy, the rest of the summer totally flew. There was only one more week until I would officially be a sixth grader at Nova Middle. Unbelievable!

  Today was like most of the other summer days. Veronica and I sat by her parents’ humongous pool, sipping on ice-cold lemonades, reading magazines, and talking our heads off. Pickle drifted on a raft in the middle of the water. What a diva dog! Her bright pink swimsuit glimmered in the hot sun. The swimsuit that was a gift from, guess who? Ellie—we were totally on good terms now, and we had been ever since our talk at Power Academy.

  Although she could be a prissy pretty-girl, she truly had a good heart and we had much more in common than we thought. It was hard to believe that just a few months ago we were pretty much enemies. It was even harder to believe that just a few months ago I could barely call myself a Monday, and now I was a Thursday, too!

  Just as I was about to flip the page in my Girls’ World Magazine, I heard a buzzing sound coming from the lounge chair like ten feet over. My cell phone.

  As a combination congrats on passing P.A. early, good luck at Nova Middle, and Happy eleventh birthday gift, my parents got me a phone. The only people that I knew who had phones of their own were Logan and Ellie. And Ellie was definitely not texting me because she and Celia were tanning just two lounge chairs over.

  “Are you going to get that?” Ellie asked without moving her lips, sending a knowing smile my way. Her fluorescent-pink nails pointed toward the phone.

  Now, I could have gotten up and taken a few steps over to reach it, but decided that I might as well use my Monday power. I concentrated on the plastic purple phone lifting gently from the lounge, floating toward me, and then landing safely into my h
ands. But instead, at like ten-thousand miles an hour, it flew off the chair and splashed into …

  Just kidding! What I imagined actually happened just like I wanted it to. The phone gently landed in the palm of my hands. I swiped the unlock button with my thumb (I’m not that lazy, after all), and read my first text.

  Logan: See u in a few days.

  I smiled. So many awesome things had happened this summer. I had totally mastered my Monday power. My super-secret Thursday mind reading was getting better and better. Mom’s not that good at censoring her thoughts, so I kind of already knew about the cell phone gift before I opened it. But most awesome of all, Ellie and I were now friends—real friends. Veronica, Ellie, Celia, and I had spent most of the summer together. There was so much to be happy about! I just couldn’t wait until Mayor Masters filled us in on the plan for next year—whatever that would be.

  I sank back into the lounge chair, took a sip of lemonade, glanced at my friends, new and old, and smiled at Ellie as I read her mind. I nodded in agreement—sixth grade was going to be pretty much the most fantabulous year ever!

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  First, a huge thank you to my parents for their love and support throughout my life. Thank you both for always believing in me!Thank you to my family, friends, and colleagues (both former and current), for their love and support as I wrote POPPY.

  I am thankful that Quinlan Lee pulled POPPY out of the slush pile a few years ago, giving me the confidence in Poppy and her story to push forward through revisions. I am forever grateful for the day that Bill Contardi agreed to be my agent. His professionalism, industry savvy, and ability to always say the right thing is all I could ask for in an agent. Thanks to the entire team at Brandt & Hochman Literary Agency.

  Thank you to everyone at Georgia McBride Media Group, Month9Books, and Tantrum Books for their excitement over this book and for welcoming me into the GMMG family. Thank you to my amazing editor Tara Creel, and a huge thanks to Georgia McBride for making my dreams come true!

  Thank you to my wonderful debut brothers and sisters at The Sweet Sixteens, and a special shout out to my Sixteen to Read gals! Your enthusiasm has been fantabulous!

  To my students, readers, bloggers, librarians, teachers, and fans – you all are awesome, and I am so happy you’ve supported me and continue to do so. To the administration, faculty, and staff at Annville-Cleona School District – your support means the world to me. To my little Yorkie, Gia – thank you for being the inspiration behind Poppy’s adorable dog Pickle. To William Shakespeare – my greatest inspiration.

  Finally, a special thank you to my husband. Even though you make fun of my “teeny-bopper” TV viewing habits and my ramblings about crazy middle-grade ideas, I could not successfully juggle a full-time teaching job and a writing career without the support of you and our amazing son, Bennett. So to both of you – thank you for holding down the fort while I have my “write time” during many evenings and weekends. I love you both to the moon!

  JENNIE K. BROWN

  Jennie K. Brown is an award-winning high school English teacher, freelance magazine writer, and author of children’s books. She currently serves as president of the Pennsylvania Council of Teachers of English and Language Arts (PCTELA) and is an active member of SCBWI, NCTE, and ALAN. She is a regular contributor to the SCBWI Eastern PA and PCTELA blogs. When she’s not teaching or writing, Jennie can be found reading, hanging out with her awesome family, or plotting her next book. Learn more about Jennie at jenniekbrown.com!

  SAMPLE CHAPTERS

  Prologue

  The first time I got in trouble for using my fantabulous mind-reading Thursday power was sitting in the middle of Mr. Salmon’s 6th grade math class.

  I almost missed the perfect mind reading opportunity because Mr. Salmon’s giant toupee was bouncing on the top of his head as he walked across the front of the room and was totally distracting me. I chuckled, thinking of its resemblance to a furry, gray squirrel just hanging out on his head.

  “Psst,” I heard from behind me. I turned around and saw Mark Masters. His index finger was jammed up his nose – the bad habit he’d not been able to kick. His other hand pointed to the toupee king who now stood in front of me.

  “Miss Mayberry,” Mr. Salmon droned.

  “Yes,” I responded, polite as ever.

  “Can you tell the class the square root of 49?”

  Of course, I knew the answer was seven. When in doubt, I always answer seven. I just love that number. Seven days in a week, after all.

  “Seven,” I said.

  He grimaced and took a step closer to me. Did he really have to pick on me? He was a mind reading Thursday and totally read the toupee thought out of my head, and I was more sure than ever that was why he was attempting to call me out in the middle of class.

  “Alright. That was an easy one,” he said, pushing the thick wire-rimmed glasses up his nose. “Now tell everyone the square root of 657.” A huge smirk formed on his face.

  I thought back to our homework from last night, but nothing came to me. Sometimes I wished that my Monday power could miraculously conjure up answers, just as quickly as it allowed me to move things with my mind.

  I glanced over at my former archenemy, Ellie Preston, and tried to read the answer from her head. She shook her head two times, meaning she had no idea what the answer was. Ellie had many strengths, but mathematics was definitely not one of them.

  “That’s what I thought, Miss Mayberry,” Mr. Salmon said through a smile. The class giggled.

  He turned his back from me and walked down the aisle. That’s what you get for making fun of my stylish hair. I read that thought right of his mind.

  “I wouldn’t call it stylish,” I spoke quietly, not knowing what compelled me to actually say it aloud when I could have just thought it right back at him. I hoped he hadn’t heard me, but by the look in Mr. Salmon’s eyes, he had most definitely heard the words that popped out of my mouth.

  “Excuse me, Poppy?” Mr. Salmon said, walking back toward my seat. His hair bounced with each step and I chuckled to myself. At this point, all eyes were on me.

  I responded meekly, “I just said, I wouldn’t call your hair stylish.” Giggles came from every direction. Did I seriously just make fun of my teacher in front of the class? This would so not be good.

  “I need to speak with you in the hall, Miss Mayberry,” Mr. Salmon stated, using his hand to slick the furry madness down while a slight pink color dabbled his cheeks. His tone was dead serious. The other Nova Middle students made all the typical “ohhhs” and “ahhhs” when anyone is sent out to the hall.

  “I know exactly what you did in there,” he said, nodding his head toward the classroom door, “and I know you’re getting used to this new found Thursday-ness, but you know the rules about power usage in school!”

  I could tell that Mr. Salmon was getting flustered, just like he did any time he had to yell at a student. He was so odd.

  “It is one thing to read the thoughts from peoples’ minds, but quite another for making those thoughts known!” he whisper-yelled, and his face began to turn an orangish-pink shade. “You don’t want to spend another summer at Power Academy, do you?” he asked.

  Of course I didn’t want to go back there. But I couldn’t stop staring at the color spreading across his face. “Mr. Salmon, you’re turning salmon.”

  Mr. Salmon’s hands shot up to his face. “I, umm, I,” he stammered. “Just don’t do it again,” he said, whipping around quickly and slamming the classroom door behind. I just stood there, not knowing what to do next.

  I smiled to myself, thanking my lucky stars I didn’t get sent to Principal Wobble-Wible’s office. That’s when I, Poppy Rose Mayberry, knew that being a telekinetic Monday AND a telepathic Thursday could actually get me into trouble. But it could also be a lot of fun!

  Chapter 1

  Six Months Later

  Now here I stood – at Power Academy
yet again. I laughed to myself as I stepped under the giant arch at the entrance of the academy. Just like the welcome last year, greasy Mr. Grimeley was handing out one of those squishy stress ball thingies. It read the same thing – Embrace Your Day. Be Special. Totally weird. Couldn’t they be a bit more creative this year?

  Grimeley himself didn’t change much. His pants were still in good need of seaming. The bottoms of his slacks curled under his unpolished shoes, and a swishing sound was heard as the fabric brushed against the ground with every step he took.

  It had been exactly one year since I entered the Academy for the first time. One year since meeting crazy Clothes-too-tight Headmistress Larriby and her greasy sidekick Mr. Grimeley. One year since I made new friends in Logan, a disappearing Friday, and Sam, a light manipulating Wednesday. One year since my arch-nemesis, mind reading Thursday Ellie Preston, became one of my all-time favorite people. And, exactly one year since the crazy summer adventure started when I found out for the first time that I was not only a telekinetic Monday, but also a mind reading Thursday. A “cusper,” Mayor Masters had told me, and the rest of my friends. Even though I didn’t know yet exactly what that meant.

  But after all the drama of last summer – Pickle, my adorable and furry little Yorkie was hidden from me by crazy Larriby and greasy Grimeley – I definitely needed a little bit of convincing when Mayor Masters asked me to come back this summer as a newly appointed camp counselor. And Ellie was the one to do just that.

  ***

  “Poppy – if you aren’t going with me, I will like seriously die,” Ellie had exaggerated, yet again, while plopping herself down on the giant purple papazan chair in the corner of my bedroom. Pickle had jumped up on her lap and was begging to have her ears rubbed.