by Annie Bryant
“Let’s jog. Marty needs the exercise.” Avery picked up the pace.
Charlotte didn’t feel like running. “Can we just walk fast?”
“Okay.” Avery bent down to pat Marty on his funny little head.
“Avery,” Charlotte took a deep breath and jumped in. “We decided that none of us are going to Julie Faber’s party. If you aren’t invited, we aren’t going. That’s totally unfair for Julie to leave you out. She knows that all of us are best friends.”
“Well, I’m not best friends with Julie. I don’t even like Julie Fabulous Faber.” Avery looked away as she spoke. “And I don’t want you to stay home because of me. Then I’ll feel like a total loser. Avery wasn’t invited, and we’re going to stay home and make her feel good. No, I want all of you to go.”
“But, Ave. We want…”
Avery stopped to pick up Marty’s little chew toy Happy Lucky Thingy. She threw it and the perky little dog flew off after it. He was back in seconds for another throw.
“Forget it, Charlotte. I don’t want to talk about this.”
Charlotte gulped. She didn’t want Avery to be uncomfortable. She just wanted her friend to know that the BSG were loyal. Everybody they knew was going to the party. What would Avery do that night?
When they caught up to Marty the second time, he was shaking his toy as hard as he could. Happy Lucky Thingy was the only thing Avery had brought with her from Korea when she was adopted as a baby. It was a testament to how much she adored Marty that she would give him the toy. Avery growled and stood tall, her hands over her head, then brought them down, pretending to attack Marty.
Marty was ecstatic. He’d play with his girl Avery all day.
Charlotte took a deep breath and stopped to look at a flower bed. “Don’t you love zinnias?”
Avery smiled in spite of her sad feelings about the party. Charlotte could be so quirky sometimes.
“How’s your ankle?” Charlotte asked.
“Not too bad. I’m so glad that I didn’t break it or sprain it worse. I felt so stupid getting hurt anyway.” Avery was relieved to be talking about ankles and sports instead of parties.
They walked slowly back to Charlotte’s, talking about basketball and newspaper work and avoiding the one topic Charlotte wanted to talk about. Charlotte glanced at her watch. They were okay on time. Before she could say anything more to Avery, her friend turned to her.
“Charlotte, you have to promise me that you, Isabel, Katani, and Maeve will go to the Fabulous Faber’s party. Especially Maeve. I know she wants to go really bad. Maeve just loves parties. Dillon was invited, and I’m sure Nick was, too. You want to go. You know you do. So…please, just go.”
“But—”
“Someone needs to stay home and dog-sit. Right, Marty?”
“Ruffff,” Marty agreed. “Ruff.”
“Promise you’ll all go, Charlotte?” Avery looked at her friend.
Charlotte sighed but she nodded yes.
They tucked Marty inside the house, grabbed their book bags, which they had left inside the front door, and took off down Corey Hill. Charlotte waved to Yuri, who was just about the first friend she had made in Brookline. Charlotte noticed that today Yuri had bouquets of fall flowers, all the varieties and colors she’d seen in the park. They coordinated with the fall vegetables. Sometimes she wished she could paint. She needed to think about how to write a poem about colors changing with the seasons. Colors wild and true…that could be the first line, she thought.
They skipped past Party Favors—according to Avery, home of the best chocolate cupcakes in the world—then turned left onto Harvard Street. Crowds of kids mingled outside Abigail Adams Junior High, all of them glad the rain had stopped and the sky was clear.
Every group of seventh graders they passed, it seemed, was talking about Julie’s party. What they were going to wear, what things Julie might have planned. Charlotte and Avery pretended they didn’t hear the buzz, although Charlotte noticed that Avery’s cheeks were flushed. They ran up the steps, slipped into the busy hall, and hurried to their lockers. Charlotte felt sorry for her friend, and she wondered if Julie Faber knew how it felt to be left out.
Maeve was the first to see them. “Hi, guys. What’s up?”
“Charlotte and I took Marty for a walk,” Avery said. “He was tired of being cooped up. He needed to conduct a squirrel raid.”
“I can’t believe you can get up so early. I have to be dragged out of bed.” Maeve yawned. “I’ll walk Marty after school on Friday if I’m not grounded forever.”
“Are you still obsessing over that math test?” Avery tossed books into her locker and pulled out a couple. “It’s no big deal.”
“Maybe not to you, but what if I fail? It could be the end of the world as I know it.” Maeve’s face was so long, her friends bit their lips to keep from laughing.
“I can help you study, Maeve,” Katani said.
Katani never got nervous on tests and was so organized, she prepared for them days in advance.
Maeve tried to make a joke of the whole thing, but Charlotte could see the panic oozing out of her friend’s pores. And today was only Wednesday.
“You have two days left to study,” Isabel said.
“My tutor almost gave up on me last night. I don’t think anyone can help me. I am doomed.”
Going Out for the Team
That afternoon, Avery and Isabel headed to the gym for basketball tryouts. Avery was excited, but she still couldn’t stop thinking about not being invited to Julie Faber’s party. Avery wasn’t used to not getting picked. She was always one of the first people chosen for sports teams and even for academic groups at school, because she was also a good student. She wasn’t friends with Julie, but neither were Charlotte or Isabel, so why was Avery the only one left out?
Avery glanced at Isabel as they arrived at the gym doors. Maybe she could talk to Isabel about being left out of the party. But Isabel was invited, so Avery didn’t want to make her feel bad by complaining about it. Avery had almost talked to her brother Scott that morning before school. Normally he was a good listener and gave good advice, but Avery didn’t think Scott would understand—he was always invited to everything.
This party thing was just too confusing. She took a deep breath as she walked across the gym floor to the bleachers. Avery tried to stop thinking about parties and to start thinking about a much more pleasant topic: basketball.
“Isn’t this great, Isabel!”
“Yeah, I guess…But I’m so nervous!” said Isabel as she adjusted her knee brace. Isabel had injured her knee ballet dancing and had to wear a protective brace. “Maybe I shouldn’t have let you talk me into trying out. What if I make a fool of myself?”
“Don’t worry, Izzy,” Avery said reassuringly. “You’ll do awesome! Being confident is half the battle.”
“But I’ve never played on a real team before, just at the park in my old neighborhood.”
“Think positive, Isabel. You know all the rules and you already know how to shoot…so you’re all set!”
“Thanks, Avery. You know, I think you’re right!” Isabel was starting to feel less nervous after Avery’s pep talk. “Hey, is that Betsy Fitzgerald?”
Avery looked toward the gym door and was surprised to see Betsy Fitzgerald, teacher’s pet and class know-it-all, walking into the gym dressed for tryouts. “I didn’t know Betsy played basketball.”
“And there’s Anna and Julie Faber,” said Isabel, looking around to scope out the competition. There was a group of eighth graders standing together at the end of the bleachers. “Those eighth graders are so tall!”
“Well, being tall isn’t everything,” commented Avery with a smile. Avery was the shortest girl in their class, but she made up for it by being really quick on the court and always playing hard.
Coach Porter called all the girls over to the bleachers to explain how tryouts would work. They would have two days of competition. The first day, they would be working
on some simple dribbling, passing, and shooting drills. The second day would concentrate on defense and game play.
“I’m pleased to see such a great turnout. I’m really excited about this season, and I hope you’re all ready to work hard and most importantly, have a lot of fun! We’ll start off with warmups, then we’ll get into the drills.” Coach Porter was really enthusiastic. “Okay, girls, let’s get started!”
For the first half hour, the girls ran through dribbling and passing drills. Avery knew most of the girls that were trying out from the many teams she had played on since elementary school. Everybody was working hard to impress the coach with her basketball skills.
Avery thought that Isabel was doing great, and she really hoped she would make the team. It would be so fun to have another BSG on the basketball team. She was really surprised to see that Betsy Fitzgerald actually knew how to play. Avery had always thought that Betsy was only interested in getting into college.
Julie Faber was also a pretty good player, which really annoyed Avery. She had been hoping that Julie wouldn’t make the team, and then maybe Julie could be the one who was left out. But if she did make the team…well, Avery would deal with that when it happened. For now, she had to concentrate on making the team herself.
Coach Porter blew her whistle. “Now we’re moving on to shooting drills. First, I’d like to see everyone practice free throws. We’ll split into two groups, one at each basket. Let’s count off one-two-one-two, and the ones will be at the other basket and the twos will stay here.”
The girls counted off one-two-one-two. Avery was a two, and so were Isabel, Betsy, Julie, and a bunch of eighth graders, including Amanda Cruz, who had been the star of the team last year.
“Okay, everyone get in line at the top of the key. You’ll all take ten free throws each turn. Free throws are a very important part of the game, and everyone can improve their percentage with practice.”
Avery and the other girls jogged over to form a line. Avery was third in line, right behind Betsy. Amanda Cruz was up first, and she got seven out of ten.
“Great job, Amanda,” said Coach Porter, as she made some marks on her clipboard. “All right, Betsy, you’re up next.”
Avery heard someone giggling behind her. She looked over her shoulder and realized it was Julie Faber and a tall eighth grader, Sarah Meyers, who appeared to be laughing at Betsy.
“Did you see her sneakers?” Julie whispered to Sarah.
“Those are so fifth grade,” Sarah sneered. “I can’t believe she thinks she would actually make the team. As if.”
Avery couldn’t believe how snobby Julie and Sarah were being. Who cared if Betsy’s sneakers were “last year.” Fashion didn’t matter in basketball!
Betsy was calmly bouncing the basketball at the line as she prepared to start taking free throws, acting like she couldn’t hear Julie and Sarah. She carefully lined up her shot, bent her knees, and sent the ball sailing in a perfect arc, straight into the hoop.
“Go Betsy!” Avery whooped, and everybody but Julie and Sarah clapped.
Betsy smiled and continued to make her foul shots, one after another until she had made nine in a row. She was shooting better than Amanda, who was the star of the team. Everyone was shocked. Betsy took her tenth shot and it swished right through the net. Who knew?
“Awesome job, Betsy. Ten for ten!” Coach Porter was excited to see such a great shooter. “Let’s see if anyone can match that!”
Everyone else took their turn, but no one managed to match Betsy’s record. Avery was pretty happy with getting seven out of ten, and Isabel got six out of ten. They finished up tryouts that day with practicing lay-ups, and Avery noticed that Betsy missed every one she attempted. How could she be so good at free throws but so bad at lay-ups?
“Hey, Betsy,” Avery said as she headed to the locker room after tryouts, “great job on those free throws!”
“Thanks. I’ve been practicing. Practice makes perfect, you know. Every night, after I finish my homework, I’ve been shooting fifty free throws. My cousin Colleen got a full athletic scholarship to Princeton. My dream is to go there, too, and I thought maybe basketball could be my ticket in.” Betsy was kind of crazy, but her hard work did seem to pay off.
“Wow, that’s cool.” Avery admired people who worked hard, tried their best, and sometimes surprised themselves. But sometimes, Betsy was over the top with her college obsession.
Overall, Avery thought that tryouts had gone really well. Isabel had played great, and Betsy was the surprise star of foul shots. Maybe a lot of seventh graders would make the team. If only Julie Faber wasn’t trying out, then Avery could really forget about her party.
CHAPTER 4
So Not Fair
I just don’t get this, Matt, I don’t.” Maeve was ready to throw her math book across the room. “I’m math impaired. Admit it and give up on me. Algebra, geometry, all these fractions, equations, and word problems. I hate word problems. They’re so frustrating. Who cares about two trains traveling at different speeds and what time they arrive someplace? I’ll just call a travel agent when I want to travel and say, ‘Get me the best schedule.’”
Good-natured Matt had been Maeve’s math tutor for some time now, and he was used to seeing her get frustrated. He was also used to her being melodramatic. Her flair for the dramatic made Maeve one of his favorite students. And he was a good tutor, really patient. Maeve knew she shouldn’t push him too far though—she didn’t want to have to get used to someone else and have to explain all over again how math made no sense to her.
Matt made a suggestion to Maeve. “Try to relax, Maeve, maybe you’re trying too hard and that’s making you block out everything. Research has shown—”
“Matt,” Maeve groaned. “I don’t care what research says. What does research know about Maeve Kaplan-Taylor? Nothing. No one ever came to me and said, ‘We want to research why you can’t learn math.’ I’m not in their silly studies. And don’t keep telling me, ‘If you relax it will come.’ That’s like that line in that baseball movie, ‘If you build it, they will come.’ So I relax, and I still don’t get it. You think a bunch of math geniuses will sit there beside me during the test and feed me answers? I don’t think so.”
The verbal avalanche left Maeve exhausted. She flopped back onto the chair at the kitchen table and covered her face with both hands.
“Maeve, you’ve panicked over this particular test. If you just try to take a few deep breaths, take each problem slowly, and do your best, I know you can pass.”
“That’s easy for you to say, Matt. You’ve already passed seventh-grade math and eighth and senior high and you’re in college. What if I never make it out of seventh grade? I’ll be stuck at Abigail Adams Junior High forever, and you’ll still be tutoring me when you’re eighty years old!”
“I’ll have a beard and I’ll hand you cheat sheets from under it. In the meantime…breathe.”
“I’m too desperate to breathe.” Maeve grabbed a carrot stick and crunched it as if she were attacking a math theorem. Why hadn’t her mother bought snacks with more substance? She wanted a brownie or chocolate chip cookies. You need chocolate for math, Maeve reasoned. Suddenly, she jumped up to look in the cupboard. She thought she remembered some M&Ms.
Matt took a deep breath and turned the page to more problems. “Let’s try a few more, Maeve. Practicing does make it easier.”
The numbers blurred when Maeve tried to look at them. The page might as well have been written in Chinese.
One time a teacher showed her mother and father a page of Chinese and asked them to read it. She had made her point. “When kids first learn to read, the page looks like this to them. For Maeve, some of the words still look like Chinese,” the teacher explained. “Somehow, we’re still trying to understand how her brain reverses some of the letters for her. So she has to decode twice. Reverse the words back, then read the word. She has to do twice the work that most kids have to when they learn to read. It’s an
extremely frustrating experience.” Maeve remembered thinking, Now they will fix me.
Well, now Maeve felt as if she was doing twice or maybe four times the work other kids do when they learn math.
“It’s not fair,” Maeve said in a quiet voice.
“Most of life isn’t fair, Maeve. Why can you dance and sing like a Broadway star while I croak like a frog and look like I need medication on the dance floor?” Matt laughed at his own joke.
“I guess I’ll have to get through life on my talent since I have this upside down, reversible brain,” Maeve replied.
“Yeah, maybe you could do that, but you still need math so nobody steals your money. Let’s try one more time.”
Matt grinned, and Maeve felt as if she’d try ten more times for him.
They worked a little longer, taking one problem at a time. Often, when Matt read the problem out loud to her, she caught on faster. Maybe her math problem was a reading problem.
“What is this problem asking?” Matt said when they’d both read it aloud.
“It’s asking how much money I’d have left. Probably none, since I’d spend the remainder on a new blouse.”
“Okay, how much would you have to spend on a new blouse?”
When Matt asked something practical like that, something Maeve really wanted to know, she could figure it out.
“You like money, Maeve?” Matt asked.
“Yeah?” Maeve said, looking suspiciously at Matt.
“We can pretend all these numbers are money. Would that help you figure them out?”
“Maybe.” She tried to do as Matt said, and they did make more than usual progress that day. But Maeve still felt discouraged. Matt would not be sitting next to her at the test.
After Matt left, she sat at the table, exhausted. Finally she put her head down on her math book and actually fell asleep.