The Boy Project

by Kami Kinard

  I don’t know about solving our differences. I guess I think Chip Tyler is pretty funny now. I mean, I still think he makes a lot of stupid jokes, but he makes some funny ones, too.

  The bell is ringing and I haven’t eaten a bite!

  After school

  Tabbi called me as soon as the bus pulled up in front of my house. That girl has perfect timing. She knows I can’t really talk about anything good when I’m trapped in the guts of the big yellow land whale. We didn’t have the usual conversation. Unfortunately.

  Tabs: So? Detention was about the fake names you guys put on the sub list, right?

  Me: Yep. Thanks for passing the list back to me, BTW. You could’ve just turned it in. Then only Chip would’ve gotten in trouble.

  Tabs: (Giggles) Sorry! I thought you’d want to know.

  Me: (Sigh) I did.

  Tabs: So what’d you have to do?

  Me: Nothing.

  Tabs: You’re kidding. You didn’t clean desks, write paragraphs, or anything?

  Me: Nope.

  Tabs: What’d Mrs. H say to you?

  Me: Well, she said we needed to talk and work out our differences. Then she left the room.

  Tabs: No! She left you alone with Chip Tyler? That is a punishment!

  Me: He wasn’t so bad, actually.

  Tabs: Not so bad?! How can you say that about that knucklehead? Wait a minute. Please tell me he didn’t try to make up for that spin the bottle goof-up. Did you guys kiss?

  Me: TAB-I-THA!

  Tabs: KA-RA!

  Me: I wouldn’t kiss Chip Tyler.

  Tabs: You went into that closet with him. . . .

  Me: That was different and you know it. It was dark, and we were at a party. And it was a game. I had to go into the closet with him when the bottle pointed to me or else look like a dork.

  Tabs: So why’d you say he wasn’t bad?

  Me: He’s just funny. That’s all.

  Tabs: Oh.

  Me: (Trying to change the subject) Sorry I abandoned you at lunch. Who’d you end up sitting with?

  Tabs: Evan.

  Me:

  Me:

  Me:

  Tabs: Kara? Hello?

  Me: I thought you liked Alex!

  (I kind of shrieked that last sentence. Hope Tabs didn’t notice.)

  Tabs: I do. But I can’t exactly sit with him while Maybelline is all over him. And Evan was so nice yesterday, I thought I’d just sit there again.

  Me: (Trying to sound casual) Was he nice again today?

  Tabs: Sure. And I had a great view of Alex the whole time.

  Me: (Huge sigh of relief that I hope Tabs didn’t hear) Do you think Alex noticed you?

  Tabs: Yeah, but he couldn’t really talk to me. You know. He has to pretend to like Maybelline.

  Me: Tabs. He does like Maybelline.

  Tabs: How could he? She’s so mean. Do you think he’ll dump her?

  Me: No.

  Tabs: Ever?

  Me: Nope.

  And we talked about Tabs’s obsession until Mom called me for dinner. Whew!

  Bedtime (According to my parents, even though tomorrow is SATURDAY!)

  Ugh! It’s the weekend, and weekends = doom. I know, because I did the equation.

  Sunday, January 7

  Late afternoon. Or evening. I’m not sure which.

  With no one to unobtrusively observe, I couldn’t exactly move forward with my research. So I headed to the “family computer located in a high-traffic area” and Googled boyfriend, just to see if there was any data online about the topic. Apparently there is. Unfortunately, a lot of it’s blocked by research-inhibiting-net-nanny software. Thanks, Dad.

  But I did find one site that was really interesting. It’s called Bebe Truelove’s 10-Week Guide to Finding a Soul Mate. There’s a photo of Bebe on the home page. She has flowing red hair, plump shiny lips, and a great figure. According to her, a soul mate is the one person in the world who understands you completely and shares your hopes and dreams.

  Reading this, I realized I’ve been selling myself short! I’ve spent the past week trying to figure out how to get a boyfriend when what I really need to be looking for is that one person who completes me! I think I need to modify my research. I took out my journal and added the word SUL above the word Observations.

  Maybe it won’t be too hard for me to find my soul mate now that I’ve discovered Bebe Truelove. She has an uncanny knack for helping soul mates unite! There was even a heart in the right-hand corner of the screen with the number 487 in it, which is the current number of people who’ve found their one and only soul mate, using Bebe’s advice.

  The rest of the screen was filled with testimonials from her former clients, and instructions for how to get her advice.

  “I followed Bebe’s advice and met Martin in only 2 weeks!” — R. Purcell

  “Bebe’s tips make finding love easy.” — Alexis Alexander

  “Signing up for Bebe’s e-mails is the best thing I’ve ever done.” — Sonya Smith

  Enter your e-mail address to get on Bebe’s mailing list. You’ll receive free advice once a week for 10 weeks! You may unsubscribe at any time. But you won’t want to! ; )

  I signed up. Hey, it couldn’t hurt! Getting tips from experts might be just the background research I need for this experiment. I think Ms. Sabatino would even call Bebe a “primary source,” since Bebe knows so much about the topic of love.

  There was a ping almost immediately and a red flag started waving from the mailbox at the bottom of my screen. Bebe had already sent me the first tip! (And an ad for Love-Mist body spray, whatever that is.)

  To: Kara M

  From: BebeTruelove

  Subject: Tip #1

  Dear Soul Mate Seeker,

  A guy likes a girl who is true to herself. If you like yourself, he’ll like you back!

  Tip #1: Be yourself.

  Good Luck in Love,

  Bebe

  Try Love-Mist!

  Heading out? Think you might see your crush? A few spritzes of Love-Mist body spray will make sure he notices you. The Love-Mist aroma is proven to attract attention!

  Click here to order now!

  ♥ Love-Mist ♥

  (Must be 18 years of age to order.)

  Come on, Bebe! That’s the lamest advice I’ve ever received. I’ve been being myself for the past twelve years, and look where it’s gotten me. Nowhere!!!! I felt like clicking on UNSUBSCRIBE right then and there. But something held me back. Something called curiosity. Or desperation. I’m not sure which.

  Monday, January 8

  Fourth period

  Finally, I had few a minutes of free time during fourth period to take notes on the most obviously perfect guy in that class. The teacher himself! Mr. Steven DeLacey.

  We don’t usually get free time in Mr. DeLacey’s class because he works us like dogs. (Question: When people say “worked us like dogs,” do they mean sled dogs? Those are the only kind of working dogs I can think of. And really, it’s not like he makes us run through miles of snow or anything. Not that I wouldn’t run through miles of snow for Mr. DeLacey. I totally would. Even if I don’t have a thick coat of hair, padded paws, and wolves for ancestors.)

  Anyway, the point is that no one minds working hard for Mr. DeLacey because he’s cute. And I’m not the only girl who’s noticed.

  Mr. DeLacey has about half of the class wishing they were a decade older. The other half is male. And he has all of us wanting to understand algebra well enough to impress him. His eyes are really big and nice. When he’s explaining something, he looks right at you with those huge blue eyes and says, “Do you get it now?” In those particular momen
ts, I’m never thinking about algebra. I just nod my head and know that my mom is going to have to do a lot of explaining to me when I get home.

  It might seem crazy to write about someone who’s eleven years older than me. But I like to look at it this way: My grandpa is ten years older than my mimi. So even though right now I’m sure Mr. DeLacey wouldn’t consider dating a seventh grader, someday I’ll be twenty-one and he’ll be thirty-three. That isn’t so bad, is it? The point is, again, you never know.

  Obviously Mr. DeLacey is too old to be my boyfriend. But what if we were meant to be together, you know, eternally? Now that I’ve visited Bebe Truelove’s site, I can’t help thinking that Mr. DeLacey would make a great soul mate. One thing he has going for him is that he already knows how to solve for x. X being an unknown answer. You just have to know how to use the information right in front of you to find it. Kind of like finding a soul mate.

  Fifth period

  We’re supposed to be writing notes about our science fair projects. Luckily (for my science grade, but not for my social life) I had all weekend free with nothing better to do than try to complete that pesky assignment. The problem was that every time I tried to think of a good topic, I ended up daydreaming about Evan.

  Then a sweet idea hit me like a ton of candy corn: I could use my real science fair project as an excuse to gather information for my secret, and more important, soul mate research project. I mean, I could even conduct a survey or something that gives me super–relationship insight! That would be awesome.

  So I spent the next few hours consulting the most authoritative sources on boyfriends out there: teen magazines! I dug around under Julie’s bed until I uncovered a stack of old mags like G-16, Astroteen, and Drama Tween. ( Julie hides all the things she thinks make her look immature under her bed. I found fifteen Webkinz and three empty Big League Chew bags there, too.)

  Anyway, once I discovered the magazines, I began some serious research. Like marking all of the pages that had surveys and quizzes on them. I stuck blue sticky notes on personality-type quizzes like “What Color Are You?” and “What Does Your Room Say About You?” and “Which Character from ____________________ (fill in the blank with title of blockbuster movie) Are You?” I didn’t know you could tell so much about a person by looking at what kind of junk they have on their desk, what kind of doodles they draw, or what type of eye makeup they wear!

  I stuck pink notes to the pages that had quizzes about crushes, like “Should You Act Flirty or Not?” and “Can You Decode Guy Talk?” and “Are You a Butterfly (Social) or Flower (Wall)?” I even found a quiz called “Does Your Crush Like You Back?” I couldn’t resist filling it out. I kinda wish I hadn’t, though. The quiz was set up like a flow chart. It started with a question in a box. A yes arrow led one direction and a no arrow another. Depending on which arrows you picked as you answered the questions, you eventually ended up in one of three boxes at the bottom of the page:

  • Yes! You Go, Girl!

  • He’s Noticed You, Keep Trying

  • No! Time to Move On

  Well, guess which box I ended up in.

  But even though the quiz didn’t work out the way I wanted, it did give me an idea for a great science fair project that will also help me with my boy research.

  First I created a personality survey for the girls by mixing my own burning questions with questions I pulled from different personality quizzes. Based on how they answer the questions, my female classmates will be divided into three separate types:

  Type A: Insecure/Clingy

  Type B: Artistic/Independent

  Type C: Popular/Snobby

  Then I created a box-and-arrow flow-chart quiz to lead guys through a path of questions that will reveal which one of the three types of girls they like! Since I’ll be one of the types of girls the boys can pick, I’ll be able to see which boys in my class answer the questions that lead to my letter. This is what my dad would call a hidden agenda, which is a plan that is kept secret. A stealth plan. The kind a spy would make.

  Needless to say, it is the hidden agenda part of the experiment that I’m most excited about. And it rocks that I found one experiment that will support two different hypotheses, which are unproven theories, according to Ms. S.

  #1: Official Science Fair Hypothesis

  Based on interest surveys, I think boys will prefer one type of girl over other types.

  AND

  #2: Hidden Agenda Hypothesis

  Finding out which boys are attracted to my type of girl will help me see which ones are most likely to have boyfriend potential or, better yet, soul-mate potential!

  Here’s the most fabulous thing about the whole project: When I asked Mr. DeLacey if I could distribute the surveys during algebra, he said, “Sure.” Then he offered to give them to the rest of his math sections because he said research is always more accurate when you have a “larger sample”! He even said he’d take one himself! How lucky is that? So now I’ll have data on 115 people, about half of them guys. This is awesome! Now I just need to go fill out one of Ms. Sabatino’s science fair applications, staple copies of the quizzes to it, and I’m home free!!!!

  Bedtime

  Got permission from Mom to make sixty-three copies of my girl survey and fifty-two copies of the boy one. I’m ready to put my project into action tomorrow!

  Did not get to sit with Evan at lunch. L But I passed him twice in the hall and he smiled both times! J J Ahhhhh — progress!

  Tuesday, January 9

  Fourth period

  I just distributed my surveys. (Mr. DeLacey said he’d take his later.) In my head I pictured the three letter-shaped boxes on the boys’ survey as three different girls: The Vine (type A), me (type B), and Maybelline (type C). I hope, hope, hope that lots of guys will follow the path that leads to Type B — me!

  I’m sure most scientists would frown on it, but the boys’ survey won’t exactly be anonymous. Well, it was for most of Mr. DeLacey’s math classes, but not for fourth period (the class I’m in).

  That’s because we always sit in the same seats in his class. So before handing them out, I very lightly (and very tinily) wrote a code number on the back of each sheet. I used the old initials-are-assigned-a-number-based-on-their-place-in-

  the-alphabet code. (The code for my initials is 11-13, for example.)

  This way, I’ll be sure to know if there’s anyone in my class who’s likely to be a match for me. Perfect!

  Bedtime

  Even though I was able to distribute my surveys today, it was not the greatest day because

  I didn’t get to sit with Evan at lunch. Again.

  I heard Maybelline talking about how stupid my surveys were. And even though I don’t care what she thinks at all, I really do.

  Maybelline thwarted my research during fifth period! She asked what my note cards were for when I pulled them out of my backpack, so I had no choice but to stuff them back in. I’m going to have to keep an eye on her if I want to continue my observations. This is a huge problem since she sits behind me, and last time I checked, “eyes in the back of the head” is a genetic mutation currently unavailable to humans.

  Wednesday, January 10

  Sixth period

  Maybe I’m just being paranoid, but I felt the hawk eyes beneath Maybelline’s pale green eyelids on me all day. Band is the one class I don’t have with her, so this is the first time I’ve been brave enough to do a little more research. (We’re supposed to be “warming up.”) Since I only have two classes with Malcolm Maxwell, and this is one of them, I might as well concentrate on him.

  Malcolm is a quiet guy. I’d say his soul, like his eyes, is partially hidden (in a not-unattractive, mysterious way). He’s cool without being conceited, somehow. Unfortunately, I can’t observe him too much since the drums are at the back of the class — two rows behind
the trumpets.

  He’s not the type of guy that you just go up to and start a conversation with. It would be too odd. Or too obvious. Or something. But once we bumped into each other when he was coming out of the instrument room. I immediately glanced down. (Why don’t I have the guts to look cute, mysterious guys in the eyes?) This gave me a chance to check out those doodles he puts on his high-tops.

  He’s a good artist! I mumbled that I liked his Chucks. And he said, “Cool.” And now you know one hundred percent of the words we’ve exchanged. Ever.

  Mr. Waldorf is rapping his baton on the podium. Gotta go!

  After dinner

  Tonight I got a phone call. One that ruined my life. One that started with Tabbi saying: “Do you think Evan Carlson is cute?”

  I did.

  “Don’t you think he’s nice, too?”

  I did.

  “Do you think he’d make a good boyfriend?”

  Did I!

  I closed my eyes and crossed my fingers. This had to be it. Evan had talked to Tabbi and told her that he liked me!

  But that is not what happened. Not at all.

  “I’m so glad you think so, Kara! I want my best friend and my boyfriend to get along.” Tabbi giggled.

  I stopped breathing.

  “Anna told me that Evan is going to ask me to go out! Wanna guess what I’m going to say?”

  I didn’t.

  “I’m going to say yes! I’ll finally have a boyfriend! Do you believe it?”

  I didn’t.

  “As of this time tomorrow, I, Tabbi Reddy, will have a boyfriend.”

  But I didn’t.

  Tabbi kept talking. “That doesn’t mean I don’t want you to still hang out with me and Evan. If you hadn’t gotten me to go talk to him at lunch, he might not have ever noticed me!”