by Kami Kinard
* * *
My prediction: Someday Alex B will see the light. When he does, I’ll be basking in its glow, ready for him to notice me!
GTG: Sounds like Mom is winding up her convo with Uncle Mike.
’Twas the night of the party and all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even my mom.
So basically that means it’s safe for me to write again!
* * *
After Mom got off of the phone, and AFTER I listened to her rant and rave about the state of my room, and AFTER I put away everything I’d dumped on my bed, and AFTER I could tell Mom was asleep, I looked at my Party Bingo “key” and compiled my results. I couldn’t stand to wait until morning to see what my research predicted.
I got fifty-seven responses!
Forty-two of these said they were taken, so that’s the number I started with. Ten were taken by each other, so I had to pick whether to use Maybelline’s answers or Alex B’s, for example, since obviously they “met their crush” in the same place.
This meant I ended up with thirty-seven responses. I divided the information into three categories, then went to this website called Pie Charts and Candy Bar Graphs where you upload your data and it creates a … um … tasty-looking graph or chart.
And you know when it comes to pie, always aim for the biggest piece! So you can see that my chances of meeting the one are much greater at school than anywhere else.
I’m not too disappointed by this info because I already know that cute soccer boy goes to my school. Bonus! He wasn’t at the party, but maybe the rest of the results will give me a clue about how or where to meet him!
Oof! Just heard a toilet flush. Guess Mom is up and about.
* * *
My prediction: I’ll find out a lot more about how to increase my chances of finding a boyfriend tomorrow.
I’m just taking a quick break from cleaning my room. I don’t think I can stand to fold another pair of socks or put away another bottle of nail polish. I mean, it seems scientifically IMPOSSIBLE that while it takes something like forty-five seconds to ransack a room, it takes three whole hours to clean it back up!
Mom says I can’t leave until it is “spotless … cleaner than before …” which I’m sure it will be, because I found a ton of junk I don’t need anymore that I threw away.
You never know what you’re going to find when you dump out a drawer! I mean, I found gum that was so gooey and gross that I wouldn’t put it in my mouth EVEN if I’d just wolfed down an order of onion rings and then found out my crush was about to ask me out. It was that disgusting! (Okay: I totally would put a gross piece of gum in my mouth before blasting my crush with nasty onion breath.)
But I also found something that might be extremely valuable in making predictions. Something that I already own, but had completely forgotten about.
A Magic 8 Ball!
It’d been a long time since I’d sought the wisdom of the 8 Ball. I picked up the plastic sphere and looked down at the number 8 on top of it. “Will I find a boyfriend this year?” I whispered. I turned the ball over in my hands and watched as the white letters appeared in the blue ink.
At least it wasn’t a no! I wasn’t sure whether or not to try again right away … or to wait. But if I did wait, how long? Would I see the answer I wanted if I waited thirty minutes, or did I need to wait a few days before trying again?
Waiting was too much trouble!
“Will I find a boyfriend this year?” I asked again and gave it another shake.
Grrr. Grrr. Grrr. I WAS concentrating! But okay. I took a deep breath and tried to clear my mind of everything but the mysteries of the 8 Ball. I closed my eyes. I spoke each word super clearly so the dumb thing would understand exactly what I was asking.
“Will. I. Find. A. Boyfriend. This. Year?” I jiggled the ball before flipping it over.
What???? This thing reminds me of a kindergartner saying, I know a secret and you do-ooo naaaah-ot.
I spoke to the 8 Ball one last time. “You might be an 8 Ball, but you’re about to go bowling!”
As I watched it roll back under my bed, I became more convinced than ever that if I want the future predicted, I’m gonna have to rely on something more dependable. Like algebra. It was time for me to get back to my boyfriend-finding probability project and finish recording the information I gathered from Party Bingo.
You can see for yourself how this stacks up on the candy bar graph! Clearly, I need to be looking for someone my same age. But where will I find him? No worries, that’s covered in the next set of data!
So I have an okay chance of meeting the one at school (anywhere but a hallway), but I have the greatest probability of meeting him in the cafeteria. Makes sense. It’s where we all come together.
After looking at the Party Bingo data, I’m prepared to make the following prediction: I will meet my future boyfriend at school, in the cafeteria, and he will be my age.
I thought about the different boys my age at school. Suddenly, I realized I already knew one of them who fit all three categories. I distinctly remember the day I first met him … in the cafeteria when he asked me to trade my chocolate milk for his plain milk. Even back then, he was so cute that I didn’t think twice about the trade! So what if we were in elementary school? It still counts.
When I thought about how nice he was at the party last night — basically saving me from social isolation and all — I had to call Kara….
Me: Alex B is such a nice person.
Kara (groaning): Tabs, not again.
Me: He is! I can’t help it. I never really stopped liking him.
Kara: Really? You still liked Alex when you were dating Evan? And James?
Me: Well, not as much. But, yeah. He’s so perfect.
Kara: No. He’s not. He humiliated his girlfriend last year.
Me: She deserved it.
Kara: Still, it makes me wonder how nice he really is.
Me: I’m pretty sure he’s only with Maybelline until he finds the right girl.
Kara: Maybe.
Me: And I’m the right girl.
Kara: Come on!
Me: No, seriously. I compiled the results of the Party Bingo survey, and he fits all categories. He’s my age, he goes to my school, and we met in the cafeteria.
Kara: Lots of guys fall into those categories.
Me: But none of the rest of them saved me by wearing a fake mustache all night.
Kara: I don’t think he did that for you, Tabs.
Me: Gotta go.
Kara will never see Alex for who he truly is: a super-nice, super-cute, super-perfect guy waiting to be discovered by the right girl: ME!
I’d say that sums up my day pretty well. Can’t wait to start raising money to help my cousin’s school!
My prediction: We’re going to exceed our six-hundred-dollar goal!
We set up a table right next to the drink machine in the cafeteria so when people came to buy drinks, they might change their minds and spend their money on cupcakes instead. Our first customer was Chip. Kara’s so lucky! He’s such a supportive boyfriend. When he came to our table, he said (loudly), “These cupcakes look so delicious. I’ll take one of each!”
We did pretty well for our first day. I thought we did, anyway, until Kara explained the math.
She handed me this note card.
“The good news is we made nine dollars,” she said. “The bad news is that we have to sell nine cupcakes per day for the next sixty-five-point-six days to make our goal.”
“No problem,” said Pri. “We have thirty-two days between today and October twenty-sixth. We’ll sell more and more cupcakes when the word starts spreading about how delicious they are.”
“Thirty-two days includes Saturdays and Sundays,” said Kara, frowning.
I looked at my calendar. There were eight weekend days between now and October twenty-sixth. This only left us twenty-four days to sell sixty-five-point-six days’ worth of cupcakes. Ugh.
<
br /> Kara punched at her calculator. “This is a big problem. We needed to sell all two dozen cupcakes every single day between now and October twenty-sixth to make six hundred dollars. And that includes today.”
“Still,” I said, “we’ll be really really close to our goal if we can sell out for the next twenty-four school days.”
“And maybe some days we can even sell something like three dozen cupcakes,” added Pri. “Then we’ll exceed our goal. We can do it!”
“Don’t cheer yet,” said Kara. “We might sell fewer cupcakes tomorrow. Then it’ll be even harder to meet our goal.”
“Think positive,” I said. “We’ll sell more cupcakes!”
“More cupcakes!” cheered Pri.
“Let’s do it,” said Kara, but she didn’t look completely convinced we’d be able to.
Oh, and I almost forgot to mention the best part. Alex Brantley bought two cupcakes! And when I handed them to him, he said, “Thanks, Tabbi!” and winked at me!!!
So what if he gave one of the two cupcakes to Maybelline?
*Note to future self: When Alex B starts dating you, remember that he likes chocolate cupcakes.
Kara says I’m crazy, but I swear Alex B is flirting with me.
“Tabs,” she said, “I’m pretty sure he has a crush on the cupcakes, not you.” Rude!
But I think she’s wrong. I mean, he didn’t have to buy two cupcakes again today. And yeah, he did give one to Maybelline again. But still.
I decided it was time to start recording data about Alex, and maybe other guys I’m interested in, too. I created a chart using the two sets of data I’d already collected:
* * *
Party Bingo data: predicts WHERE I am most likely to meet my future boyfriend and HOW old he will be.
Faceplace data: indicates WHAT I need to do to get his attention. (I used the top answer from each category.)
The more boxes I check off, the easier it will be to predict WHO my next boyfriend will be. I already have the first three columns checked off for Alex B! So now I need to work on getting him to notice me. You know, just in case he and Maybelline ever break up. And hopefully it won’t be long before I can replace those question marks with other guys’ names!
Oh! I have other good news to share! Cupcakes 4 Catastrophes did better today than yesterday. Our biz is growing!
At lunch today, we ran into a mathematical problem:
I mean, I know I don’t own the cafeteria. DUH! But I don’t appreciate anyone making an announcement to that effect as if it were some up-to-date newsflash! Especially if that anyone is a particular someone who wears too much makeup and dates a guy who is too good for her! Maybelline!
Basically, we were forced to relocate Cupcakes 4 Catastrophes because Maybelline was setting up a table next to the drink machine. We picked a spot near the windows and got busy setting out cupcakes.
Then Pri gasped. She was pointing across the cafeteria. “She can’t do that!”
Kara’s lips were pressed together as tightly as two halves of a clamshell. When she opened them a moment later, she said, “Maybelline tends to be able to do anything she wants.”
“Oh yeah?” said Pri. Then she marched her tiny little self right over to Maybelline’s table. Before we knew it, she was having a full-blown conversation with our rival.
“If she knew Maybelline the way we do, she wouldn’t bother,” I whispered to Kara. She nodded. We watched as Pri and Maybelline talked.
Pri came charging back to our table, looking as angry as a miniature bull.
“Apparently,” she huffed, “she has permission!”
The three of us watched as Maybelline and The Sponge began unpacking plastic containers, their mouths curved in self-satisfied smiles. Cupcakes, cupcakes, cupcakes in all three boxes!!!!
“I’m going to throw this away,” said Kara, balling up a perfectly clean napkin and heading for the trashcan that stood a few paces from Maybelline’s table.
She was back a few seconds later, smiling reassuringly. “No worries, Tabs,” she said. “Her cupcakes look like they’re made from a mix, and the icing is flat. They’re nowhere near as appetizing as ours.”
Know what? I was worried anyway. So far today we’d sold four cupcakes. All to returning customers. If we were going to raise enough money for Cupcakes 4 Catastrophes, we needed to sell a little more than twenty-four a day. Which meant we needed new customers in addition to our returning ones.
“Five,” said Pri suddenly.
“What are you talking about?” asked Kara.
“They’ve sold five cupcakes. That’s one more than we have.”
A line was starting to form at the enemy camp. A short line, but long in comparison to the line at our table. The line that wasn’t.
Maybelline’s first customers were her usual crew. Alex L, who was still dating The Sponge, Dylan Hudson, and — it makes me particularly sad to say this — Alex Brantley. He bought two of hers and none of mine.
I did see him glance longingly toward our table, though. I elbowed Kara. “Look, there’s hope for me and Alex B. He might be in her line, but he’s looking over here.”
“Yeah,” said Kara, “but he’s only checking out the cupcakes.”
I studied Alex’s face. Kara was right. He was definitely eyeing the strawberry cupcakes. I hate it when Kara’s right!
“I wish I were a strawberry cupcake,” I sighed.
“Eww,” said Kara.
Other people in Maybelline’s line included the hangers-on. You know, the people who always gush over Maybelline but aren’t actually in her group. People like The Vine. Then there were the ones who just wanted what everyone else had. Even if what they had was a cupcake inferior in looks and taste. People can be so dumb!
I picked up a strawberry cupcake in a silver foil liner and held it up. The icing was a perfect swirl of pale pink. A fresh strawberry sat on top of it. It was a work of art, if I do say so myself. “Look at this cupcake! Can you believe ANYONE would buy one of those ugly things instead?” I gestured to Maybelline’s table.
“No!” said Pri. “I can’t believe it!” She stood up, fully displaying her chartreuse Love Thy Cupcake T-shirt with pink cupcakes on the front. “Look at this beautiful cupcake!” Pri yelled to the cafeteria. Everyone looked. No one purchased. It was not a great moment for Cupcakes 4 Catastrophes.
Pri’s face fell. She smiled apologetically. “It was worth a shot.”
“No, it wasn’t!” cried Kara. “Now our humiliation is more public than ever. Thanks a lot.” (Right here, thanks a lot actually means the exact opposite of thanks a lot.)
Probably, if I called Kara right now, she’d tell me that she regretted making that statement. Because what happened next was a whole lot more humiliating … to HER.
See, Chip walked in about then. His eyes darted over to where our table had been set up for the past two days. Kara waved at him from our new location, but he obviously didn’t see her. If he had, he wouldn’t have done what he did next, which was to get in Maybelline’s line.
“I can’t believe that jerk!” said Kara.
“He didn’t see you,” said Pri.
“So what!” snapped Kara. “He knows how I feel about Maybelline! I think he’s actually about to buy a cupcake from her! It’s the ultimate betrayal!”
I wasn’t too happy about Chip’s support of Maybelline, but Kara was overreacting. I mean, she obviously hasn’t had a boy celebrate a two-week anniversary with her in the morning, then have that same boy break up with her two hours later because of Maybelline. Now that’s the ultimate betrayal.
“I’ll stop him before he gives her money!” claimed Pri. Quick as lightning, she was out of her seat.
Kara’s arm flashed out and barred her way. “Don’t bother. He isn’t my boyfriend. Let him eat cupcake.”
“I thought you were dating Chip,” said Pri. She can be so clueless sometimes!
“I was. Until about five seconds ago.”
“Kara …
you know he wouldn’t be over there if he’d seen you over here,” I said.
“So?” Kara flipped her hair in a way that reminded me of her sister, Julie. “I don’t want to be with someone who buys cupcakes behind my back.”
Chip was paying Maybelline now. He turned around. Looking down at the cupcake, he peeled off the plain paper wrapper, then stuffed the entire cake in his mouth at once. Nice — not!
“Priyanka,” said Kara. “Can you make that announcement again? Right now? The one about the beautiful cupcake?”
Pri looked confused. “I thought you didn’t like it when I did that.”
“Just do it!” growled Kara.
So Priyanka stood on a chair, holding a strawberry cupcake up like Lady Liberty’s torch, and made the exact same look at this beautiful cupcake announcement.
Chip’s head jerked up. His brown eyes flew open in surprise. Or maybe it was horror. Kara was looking at him, too, but this time she wasn’t waving. Her arms were too busy being crossed over her chest.
Chip hurried over to our table, looking worried. His jaws were chewing as fast as they could, in a completely futile attempt to destroy the evidence, even though he knew he’d been caught red-handed.
“Hi, Chip,” said Kara coolly. “What’s up?”
“Ummm …” He looked like he was trying to think of something to say to cover the fact that his mouth was full of enemy cupcake. But he must have seen the same don’t even try it expression on Kara’s face that I did.
“I just wanted to check out the competition,” said Chip, his cheeks full of overprocessed cupcake made from a mix. Some chocolate cupcake spilled out of his mouth and crumbs alighted on the front of his red shirt, like flies.
Kara looked like she wanted to throw up, but I don’t think it was because of Chip’s poor eating skills. “Well. How was the competition?” she asked.