Maggie Bean in Love

by Tricia Rayburn

  “Ladies.”

  Maggie frowned as Anabel Richards smiled at them from underneath the umbrella. Julia Swanson stood next to her, wearing the exact same raingear. Their hair was dry, and their makeup wasn’t smeared. They looked exactly as they must have before leaving their houses and stepping outside that morning.

  “What do you have there?” Julia asked sweetly.

  Aimee moved the clipboard behind her back, but not fast enough.

  “A petition?” Anabel asked, smiling at Julia. “How … cute.”

  “A for effort, girls,” Julia said. “But you might want to head inside. Being stuck in bed with pneumonia will be boring, no matter what—but it’ll be even worse knowing there’s no swim team to rejoin once you’re well again.”

  “That’s so considerate of you,” Aimee said, her voice just as sugary as theirs. “Thanks so much for looking out for us. In return, may I suggest using your silver swimsuits as dust rags when you no longer have a reason to wear them? I hear they’re great at making dull things shine.”

  Julia’s and Anabel’s eyes narrowed, but they didn’t say anything else. They simply waited for Maggie and Aimee to move apart, and then walked through them.

  “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” Maggie said quietly once the front doors were closed. “I don’t think we should give up, but—”

  Maggie stopped talking when a shrill whistle sounded behind them. The noise stopped, then sounded three more times. When Maggie was finally able to turn toward the noise’s source, she expected to find whistle-happy Ms. Pinkerton standing there. Ms. Pinkerton must’ve overheard their exchange with Anabel and Julia and wanted to reprimand them for stooping to such low behavioral levels.

  Maggie was prepared for Ms. Pinkerton’s worst. But she wasn’t prepared for who was standing by the front doors instead.

  “What is she doing?” Aimee asked, her voice alarmed.

  Maggie shook her head. She had no idea why Carla was standing in front of the main entrance with her hands on her hips, and a red whistle in her mouth.

  “Listen up, people!” Carla yelled, letting the whistle drop to her chest.

  Maggie raised her eyebrows. The girl was small, but her voice was very, very big.

  “I know you’re wet, so I’ll keep this short,” she continued as dozens of kids crowded the steps. “We’re in the midst of a severe injustice at our school. One group of people is fighting really hard to keep their heads above water, and another group of people is trying to push them under. I know we’re not all friends, or that we even get along … but I also know that at some point in our lives, each and every one of us has been in that same position. So if you want to support a group of hardworking peers who have done nothing but their best, if you want to help keep their heads above water, where they belong, then you will sign Aimee McDougall’s petition and help save the girls’ swim team.”

  Pulling her head back further in her hood like a turtle in a shell, Maggie scanned the crowd. The kids didn’t look happy to be blocked out of the building as the rain hammered their heads and backs, but they seemed to be listening.

  “Oh, one other thing!” Carla added with a quick whistle. “No one goes inside until everyone signs.”

  That was met with a chorus of gasps and groans, but it got people moving. In seconds, Maggie had closed Arnie’s umbrella and was sifting through her backpack for extra pens and pencils to hand out to the kids surrounding them.

  “Mags,” Aimee said with a smile, releasing the clipboard so people could pass it around, “you know I love you … but that little girl really might be your biggest fan.”

  9. Maggie would never tell him so, but the more time she spent with Arnie, the more he reminded her of chocolate. It wasn’t just because he was sweet, or that each time she saw him was like being presented with a beautifully wrapped box of Valentine’s Day candy. It was because being near him seemed to make all her problems disappear and her stresses melt away, just like bags of Milky Ways and Snickers used to, not long ago.

  “Hi,” he said with a smile as she jogged up the elementary school steps.

  “Hi.” Her smile, which had started almost as soon as her mother’s car had pulled out of the driveway ten minutes earlier, grew wider. Arnie was leaning against a railing, waiting for her. He was wearing khaki cargo pants and a green hooded sweatshirt, and his curly hair was messy and adorable. He looked like he always did, but Maggie thought he’d never looked better.

  “How’s the petition going?”

  It was only a short sprint from the car to the elementary school entrance, but she was so excited to see him, her heart pumped like she’d just run a mile. She stopped on the step just below his to catch her breath. “The petition?”

  “The one you and Aimee have been pushing all week? In support of school pool domination?”

  “Oh. Right.” She laughed lightly, too distracted to be embarrassed about needing the reminder—even though she really should have been embarrassed, since she and Aimee had discussed next signature-securing steps on the phone not even an hour ago. “It’s fine.”

  He waited for her to elaborate, but she didn’t offer anything else. She didn’t know what she would’ve said if she could’ve gotten her head to stop spinning long enough to separate her thoughts into logical responses. Standing there on the steps with him, saving the swim team didn’t seem like such a big deal.

  “How are you?” she asked instead.

  He looked behind her to make sure her mom had already driven away, and then took her hand and squeezed it. “Better now.”

  There was at least one difference between the effects that eating chocolate and being with Arnie had on her. While her stomach always felt full and heavy after having too much chocolate, it flip-flopped and fluttered like it was filled with a thousand butterflies every time she saw Arnie.

  They continued to hold hands as they entered the school and walked down the main hallway. At this point a few months ago—or even a few weeks ago—she would’ve been reviewing that meeting’s agenda, double-checking her laptop bag to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything, and trying to mentally match each Patrol This name with a face. But now, she could barely remember her own name, let alone any of the twenty-three she was still learning.

  That was probably why she thought they’d accidentally stepped into the wrong classroom when they opened the door and she didn’t recognize anyone right away.

  She released Arnie’s hand and forced her brain to focus. She scanned the room, waiting for the names to come to her as she took in the kids’ faces … but they weren’t there. She was about to lean back and check the number over the classroom door when a torpedo of lemon yellow velour shot through the crowd.

  “What are we giving away?”

  “What do you mean?” Arnie asked as Electra joined them by the door.

  “I mean—where did they come from? Why are they here? Is the corporate office giving away college scholarships?”

  Snapped back to reality by Electra’s urgency, Maggie counted quickly. “Thirty-one.”

  “Thirty-one,” Electra declared, clapping her hand to her forehead. “That’s eight more than last time!”

  No wonder Maggie hadn’t recognized the kids right away. The original members were still there, but the newest members stood closest to the door, apparently waiting for instructions.

  “Let’s not panic,” Arnie said quietly, backing out into the hallway and waving for them to follow.

  “We shouldn’t panic,” Maggie agreed once the door was closed behind them, “but that’s a lot of kids.”

  “And there are only three of us,” Electra said.

  “Where did they come from?” Maggie turned to Electra. “They’re calling you to register, right?”

  “They were,” Electra said, shaking her head. “But I didn’t get any new calls this week. They must’ve found out by word-of-mouth, and just decided to drop in.”

  “Isn’t there a cap?” Arnie asked. “Or som
e kind of deadline? Maybe we should thank them for coming and ask them to sign up in advance for the next session.”

  Maggie moved away from the door as a young mother holding the hand of a chubby little girl neared the classroom.

  “I don’t want to go,” the little girl whined, her face a combination of sad and scared. “Please don’t make me. I’ll do anything. I’ll clean my room every day, and cook dinner, and cut the grass—”

  “Don’t worry, Maddie,” the mother said brightly, opening the classroom door. “You’re going to have a ton of fun and make a ton of new friends. I promise.”

  Maggie frowned. The little girl’s name was so close to her own, it made her recall how much she hadn’t wanted to go to Pound Patrollers the year before. Aunt Violetta had basically dragged her there kicking and screaming … but it had been worth it. It had taken a while, and Maggie had resisted every step of the way, but like Maddie’s mother promised, she’d had fun and made friends. And she’d lost weight in the process. But if her parents hadn’t insisted, and if Aunt Violetta hadn’t dragged her when she did, Maggie might never have gone. She couldn’t imagine where she’d be now if she hadn’t.

  “We can’t turn them away,” Maggie said. “It was probably really hard for those parents to get their kids here today, and if we ask them to come again in a few months, they might be too tired by then to put up the same fight.”

  Electra still looked concerned, but Arnie nodded.

  “She’s right,” he said. “We’ll just have to be really organized, and do the best we can.”

  Electra looked at the crowd through the wide window in the classroom door, and then at Maggie and Arnie. “Are you sure you guys can handle it? You’re doing a wonderful job and I know you’re capable of more than most kids are at your age … but I don’t want you to get overwhelmed.”

  “We’ll be fine,” Maggie said.

  “They don’t call us the Patrol This dream team for nothing,” Arnie added.

  Maggie managed to smile as a mother, father, and young boy rounded the hallway corner and hurried toward them. With thirty-two—thirty-three—kids to keep track of now, she was going to need to stay focused. Which meant that at least for one hour every week, she was going to have to do her best to ignore the effects of her new boyfriend addiction.

  “I hope we’re not too late,” the father said breathlessly.

  “You’re right on time.” Maggie opened the classroom door. She waited for them to go inside before turning to Arnie and Electra. “Ready?”

  “The Abdominator was born ready,” Arnie said, standing up straight and squaring his shoulders.

  “I hope I have enough index cards.” Electra sighed.

  Maggie darted inside before Arnie could catch her eye and make her laugh. She ducked and weaved through the kids and parents, and headed for the front of the classroom. As she pulled down the projector screen and took her folders and spreadsheets from her bag, Electra welcomed the new members, and Arnie set up his laptop.

  “Hey,” Arnie said quietly when she dropped her pen and had no choice but to crouch near him.

  Maggie froze and looked at his hand on her shirtsleeve.

  “The parental units are having a party tonight, so Little Mom and Dad Junior have been instructed to keep me busy—and out of the house. We’re going to hit up the mall for some food and people watching. Do you want to come?”

  Yes. Yes, yes, yes, Maggie’s voice sounded immediately in her head. There’s nothing I’d rather do more.

  “Maybe?” she said out loud.

  “Oh.” The corners of his mouth dipped. “Okay. No problem. I know it’s short notice, I just thought—”

  “I just have to check my schedule,” she said quickly. “I think I’m supposed to watch a movie with my family, but might be able to hang out before then. I’m just not sure.”

  “Right.” He nodded. “Got it.”

  She clutched her folders to her chest and watched his cheeks turn pink. Part of her wanted to throw her arms around his neck and assure him that she would go to the mall with him every single night if she could, but another part of her was scared to give in and lose even more focus. They were only five minutes into the meeting, after all, and thirty-three kids and their parents were counting on her to keep it together. If she said yes right then to hanging out, she was pretty sure hanging out would be all she would think about for the rest of the meeting. And that wasn’t fair to the kids.

  “Hey, guys!” Arnie clapped his hands, jumped up from the chair, and hopped onto the desk. “Welcome back to Club P.T. First off, I want to welcome all of our new members. Maggie, Electra, and I are very happy you’ve joined us, and we look forward to getting to know you.”

  As Maggie smiled and waved, she hoped no one looked too closely at her face. Arnie’s cheeks had already returned to their natural olive color, which clearly meant he’d moved past their conversation. But Maggie’s face still shone fuchsia. She’d given him the wrong idea. She might’ve even upset him—which was the very last thing she wanted to do. And now she had to wait and worry for fifty-four minutes to explain herself and make it right.

  “Maggie?”

  Her head snapped to the left. Arnie was looking at her and seemed to be waiting for her to say something. She followed his eyes when he shifted them toward the kids without moving the rest of his body. Her cheeks felt like she’d fallen asleep under the scorching summer sun without sunscreen as she saw all thirty-three kids, their parents, and Electra watching her curiously. She opened her mouth to respond, but having no idea what she’d missed, she had no idea what to say.

  “That’s our Maggie,” Arnie said easily when five painfully long seconds passed. “She knows the administrative stuff is boring and feels terrible asking you to do it. But a club’s a club, and we need to know a little bit about our members to make sure you have the best time possible.”

  “Right,” Maggie agreed, finally finding her voice.

  “So it’s okay with you if we get the weigh-in out of the way now?” he asked her, apparently for a second time. “Electra and I will take the rest of the kids out for some P.T. Frisbee while you get what you need?”

  She nodded, wanting to throw her arms around him again—this time, for saving her from even worse embarrassment.

  “Great.” He slid off the desk, grabbed a bag of Frisbees from the classroom closet, and started for the door in the back of the room that led to a small courtyard.

  She wasn’t able to move until he was outside—and out of the sight. When she could feel her arms and legs again, she went to place the folders she still held on the desk so she could find the Patrol This member information spreadsheet.

  Maggie dropped to her knees when the folders suddenly slipped from her grasp and dozens of papers flew to the floor.

  She grasped for the papers frantically. She didn’t want to come across as a supreme klutz, and she also didn’t want anyone to see what they shouldn’t. A chubby kid’s weight was a very sacred thing. She’d always hated knowing her own, and before Pound Patrollers, she’d never shared it with anyone not wearing a stethoscope. Patrol This promised confidentiality, and she didn’t think she could live with herself if she accidentally let that information out.

  “You like him, don’t you?”

  Maggie’s hands stopped moving when another, smaller pair started gathering the papers. She raised her eyes to see Maddie kneeling across from her and smiling.

  “Is he your boyfriend?”

  Maggie wondered if it was too late to seek refuge underneath the desk. Another little girl had asked her this very same question during the last Patrol This session, and answering then had been much easier. Because he hadn’t been. She’d been interested in someone else, and it hadn’t even occurred to her to think of Arnie that way. And maybe it should’ve been just as easy to answer now, because “yes” was just as easy to say as “no.” But, like the members’ weights, her relationship status with Arnie was confidential. Even Electra di
dn’t know. And for Maggie’s sanity—and the success of the entire Patrol This program—she wanted to keep it that way.

  “Do you have a boyfriend?” Maggie asked instead of answering.

  Maddie’s face scrunched up. “Please. I’m nine years old. I don’t have time for boys.”

  Maggie smiled as Maddie handed her the papers she’d gathered without looking at them, and rejoined her mother at a nearby desk.

  Nine-year-old Maddie didn’t have time for boys. And thirteen-year-old Maggie knew how she felt.

  10. “We’re up to ninety-seven signatures,” Aimee whispered, leaning across the aisle that separated her desk from Maggie’s. “Ninety-seven!”

  “I don’t think I’ve met that many people in my entire life,” Maggie whispered back. “And they really knew what they were signing?”

  Aimee held up the clipboard. The big red letters taped to the top screamed “SAVE THE GIRLS’ SWIM TEAM!” and were probably visible from the other side of the classroom.

  “You wanted to make sure we were getting the message across,” Aimee said. “Trust me—there’s no missing this message.”

  “Good work, Campaign Manager,” Maggie said approvingly. While ninety-seven signatures were impressive, they wouldn’t have meant very much to her if her classmates had offered them simply because Aimee had asked—or demanded—them to. This way, when Maggie submitted the petition to the school board, she could feel confident that the team really had the support it suggested.

  “Who kissed who?”

  Maggie looked up to see which of her classmates had been caught passing notes. Ms. Pinkerton was serving as an emergency substitute for their history teacher, Miss Wells, who’d come down with acute appendicitis the night before. Most substitutes usually gave an in-class assignment to keep students busy, and then turned a blind eye and spent the next forty-two minutes e-mailing, texting, or reading magazines. Because most substitutes were smart enough to know that it was impossible to gain the respect of twenty eighth graders in a single period.