by Annie Bryant
“Do you think the math will soak into your brain while you sleep, honey?” her mother said, waking Maeve by touching her on the shoulder.
Maeve came back to the real world, to the table cluttered with scribbled numbers. “I’m going to fail, Mom. Even with Matt’s help. I can’t possibly pass the math test on Friday. I’m just stupid, really stupid.” Maeve broke down, crying as if her heart were broken. What a waste, a broken heart over math instead of Dillon or someone equally cute.
She didn’t know how long she sat there, tears running down her face, thinking about Dillon and Riley and music and parties and dancing. All of her friends were good at math. Charlotte and Katani were practically geniuses, and Isabel and Avery got Bs and sometimes Cs. If Maeve got a C on a big math test, her family would have a celebration. The problem was she got Ds and sometimes Fs. Nobody would ever celebrate for her.
Maeve didn’t even hear her mother make the phone call, but knew she must have done so when a few minutes later her father sat beside her and took her arm.
“Maeve, sweetheart, you have to calm down. One test is not the end of the world.”
By then, Maeve didn’t have much crying left inside. She didn’t have much of anything left inside. In fact, she realized she was hungry. How could she be hungry when life as she knew it was coming to an abrupt end?
“I—I—maybe I’m just hungry.”
Mr. Taylor hugged Maeve and gave his wife a tender smile. Maeve caught it out of the corner of her eye. A flutter of hope came over her. But it passed so quickly Maeve thought maybe it was just her stomach growling.
Her father stood up, glad he’d found something he really could do to help. “Well, that’s easily fixed. Let’s go get something wonderful to eat. Do you mind if Sam goes? Then your mother doesn’t have to prepare dinner.”
“Why doesn’t Mom come with us?” Maeve looked at her mother, who smiled but shook her head.
“I have homework, too. I can eat a microwave dinner and work right here in the math wreckage.”
“It could rub off on you,” Maeve warned. “You might never understand your contracts or whatever it is you brought home.”
“I’ll take that chance.” Her mother hugged her, wiped her eyes, and said, “Run upstairs and wash your face. Put on a clean shirt. You’ll feel better.”
Recovering from the major meltdown was going to take longer than Dad would wait. Quickly Maeve washed her face and got ready to go. She pinched her cheeks for some color and threw a lip gloss into her pocket. You never knew who you might run into eating out. Math was suddenly not so important.
“That’s better,” her dad said when she got back to the kitchen. He put his arm around her and steered her toward the door.
Sam bounced, kicked, and punched the air as they headed for the car. “Can we have pizza?”
“Tonight is Maeve’s choice, Sam. You choose next time.”
“That’s not fair. It’s my turn.” He crouched into a kung fu position and leaped into a fight stance.
“Does he have to come?” she implored her father. The idea of walking into a restaurant with a Mutant Ninja Turtle was not her idea of a relaxing dinner.
“Sam,” her father spoke sharply. “Behave yourself. We are taking your sister out to cheer her up.”
Looking at the defeated face of her brother, Maeve said, “I guess pizza sounds good.”
In the car, Maeve stared out the window. Life wasn’t only not fair, it was strange and more often than not, totally confusing. She had been so upset about math a minute ago, and now she was listening to Sam blather on about tae kwon do class to her dad. Maybe she would be okay for the test.
Sisters
Isabel’s life wasn’t running smoothly either.
“You promised, Izzy. You promised me a long time ago!”
Elena Maria, Isabel’s older sister, stomped her foot and paced around the kitchen. Her dark eyes flashed fire. Usually the way Isabel handled Elena’s hot temper was to leave. But she couldn’t. This involved her. And besides, she had to help set the table.
“You can’t back out now. I told the Fergusons I’d baby-sit. Then I had a conflict and you promised me you’d fill in. My reputation is on the line here.” Elena Maria banged a plate down on the kitchen table as if to emphasize her point.
Isabel didn’t remember ever promising that she’d baby-sit. Normally, she wouldn’t mind filling in, but the job happened to be the same night as Julie Faber’s party.
“I’m sorry, Elena, but I’m going to a party that night. It’s going to be ‘the party of the year.’ I have to be there. Why don’t you ask one of your friends to baby-sit?” Isabel felt bad for Elena Maria, but she was starting to get annoyed at her sister’s whining.
“All my friends have plans that night. I’ve already called around. So you have to keep your promise. Isabel, this is really important to me.”
“You promised the Fergusons in the first place, so I think you’re the one who has to keep your promise, Elena.” Isabel was getting a little confused with all of the promises. All she knew was that she had to go to the party.
“Come on, Isabel, it’s only a seventh-grade birthday party,” Elena Maria said. “Listen, I’ll do the dishes for two weeks if you just baby-sit for me. It’s not even a hard job. They only have two kids.”
“Yeah,” Isabel raised her voice. “The Fergusons—escapees from the zoo.”
“They’re not that bad, Izzy. Maybe you could get one of your friends to go with you. It’ll be fun!” Elena Maria had a way of sugar-coating her words until Isabel said yes, but Isabel wasn’t caving this time.
“If it’s going to be so fun, then why don’t you baby-sit?” Isabel knew that would set Elena off again, but she’d had enough. She hated baby-sitting the Ferguson twins. Everyone did. They were so spoiled. Just because they had starred in a famous commercial about eating cereal and had their own fan club, they thought they were TV stars. And TV stars can do anything they like according to Jamie Ferguson. Stay up all night, eat too much candy or soda, no problem. Talk back when they please, and run through the house like a pair of hyenas on too much caffeine—par for the course. The Fergusons should come with a warning label: Don’t baby-sit these kids! Isabel got a headache just thinking about baby-sitting them again.
Mrs. Martinez came into the kitchen and the girls stopped their bickering instantly. They continued to set the table in silence. No one wanted to upset Mrs. Martinez.
“Isabel, my dear little sister, could you please get the silverware?” Elena Maria’s voice dripped with honey.
Isabel wanted to throw the napkins she was carrying in her dear older sister’s face. Instead, she made a face, which made her feel better for the moment.
“What is all this fighting? I could hear you yelling all over the house. You should respect each other, girls. How many times have I told you that?”
“Sorry, Mama,” Isabel said. Isabel felt bad that their silly argument had upset their mom. Ever since their mother had gotten sick, the girls tried not to argue. Isabel was glad to see her mother using her walker rather than her wheelchair. That meant she was feeling stronger.
“Sí, lo siento, Mama.” Elena Maria sent Isabel a fierce look that said, “Don’t worry Mama about this.” As if Elena Maria hadn’t been the one to start the fight in the first place.
Aunt Lourdes came into the kitchen to see if the cheese on the casserole was browned. She pronounced it perfect and lifted it out of the oven. “No problema, Esperanza. It is normal for sisters to fight sometimes.”
“Did you and Mama ever fight?” Isabel asked.
Aunt Lourdes set the casserole on the table and laughed. “Oh, yes, we fought, almost every day. Your mama is a feisty one, let me tell you. There was this one time….”
“No. No stories, Lourdes.” Mama shook her head. “Don’t encourage them. What are you arguing about, girls?”
Isabel shook her head and placed some of the tamale casserole on her plate. The spicy smell
of corn, tomatoes, and shredded chicken filled her nose and she took a big bite. Perfect. Aunt Lourdes was such a good cook. Her homemade tamales were almost as good as Mama’s chicken empanadas.
“Actually, Isabel and I were discussing a party she wants to go to. It’s at Julie Faber’s house. I don’t think you should let her go, Mama.” Elena Maria smiled sweetly at Isabel.
“Aie, wait a minute, Elena, who made you the mother here?” Isabel felt the cayenne pepper in the casserole go straight to her head. “You can’t decide what I can or can’t do. You just want me to stay home so—”
Mama put out her hand to hush Isabel. “Why do you say that, Elena Maria? I would like to know.”
“I’ve heard some really bad things about Julie’s older brother Bobby and his parties. They’re totally out of control, and there’s alcohol.”
Isabel gasped. She couldn’t believe that Elena Maria was trying to sabotage her party plans. Elena knew it was only a junior high party and there was no way it would be out of control. She was just trying to scare their mama into saying that Isabel couldn’t go, and so that Isabel would have no excuse not to baby-sit. It was totally unfair.
“This is not Julie’s brother’s party. And Bobby won’t even be there. It’s Julie’s birthday party. Why don’t you just stay out of it? It has nothing to do with you.”
“I’m just warning you. I’ve heard that Julie gets her way on everything she wants.”
“So I’m supposed to stay home because you’ve heard some rumors?”
“Girls, girls,” Mama pleaded.
Aunt Lourdes jumped up and got Mama water. “You shouldn’t get excited, Esperanza. See what you’ve done, girls. Your mother needs to eat, rest, and stay calm.”
Isabel and Elena Maria looked guiltily across the table at each other.
Isabel knew better. Both of them knew better than to make Mama upset. She was having a hard enough time just fighting her MS. She didn’t need squabbling daughters to upset her.
“Sorry, Mama,” Elena Maria said. “Are you all right? Try to eat. We’ll stop fighting.”
Isabel shot Elena a look that said, “It’s your fault,” but she apologized too. “Lo siento, Mama. Let’s all enjoy Aunt Lourdes’s good tamales. And thank you again, Aunt Lourdes, for inviting us to live here with you. For putting up with Elena and me as well as taking care of Mama.”
“It is my privilege to take care of my sister when she needs help,” Aunt Lourdes said, “but I need everyone’s cooperation. You girls have to love each other and solve your problems quietly. I’m sure that’s possible, isn’t it?”
“Sí.” Both Isabel and Elena ducked their heads down and concentrated on eating.
After dinner, while the two of them were washing dishes, Isabel said, “Okay, Elena, I’ll baby-sit for you.”
“Go—I’ll finish up the dishes. You can use the computer.”
Isabel dried her hands and hurried to her half of the bedroom. She turned on their PC and entered her password.
Everyone logged off. Isabel was glad she didn’t wait to tell her friends that she wasn’t going to the party. It wouldn’t have been fair to pull out at the last minute.
Isabel got ready for bed, then ran downstairs to give her mother a big hug. No party mattered as much as Mama. Nothing was as important as her getting better…and she was getting better. Papa would be so happy when he came to visit. Maybe they could all go to the movies together. Mama loved the movies. She said that she wished she had been an actress. Isabel thought her mother was pretty enough to have been a movie star.
CHAPTER 5
Can Math Make You Sick?
By third period on Friday, Maeve had a headache, a queasy stomach, and was sure she was coming down with something really lethal. Maybe malaria, yellow fever, or even bubonic plague.
“How do you get bubonic plague?” she asked Charlotte, who had traveled so much, surely she knew about every disease in the world.
“From rats to fleas. Ancient Europe had such bad sanitary conditions, rats and fleas were everywhere. That’s why so many people died. Why are you asking, Maeve? Are you writing a report on world diseases for history?”
“Does Marty have fleas?” Maeve had a one-track mind.
“No. We keep him really clean, and he has a flea collar.”
“Then maybe it’s yellow fever.” With a dramatic sweep of her hand, Maeve took out a tissue and wiped the perspiration from her brow. “Like in that old movie Yellow Jack, where Major Walter Reed and all those doctors went to Cuba and let mosquitoes bite them to prove they carried yellow fever. Of course, they all got sick and some of them died as heroes for science and medicine.”
Maeve got most of her history from old movies. She just had to hope the stories were accurate. It was a lot more fun learning that way. She especially enjoyed the old black-and-white movies her father picked for the film festivals.
“Yellow fever comes from mosquitoes, but I don’t think anyone has had it for a long time. Now West Nile—”
“That’s it! I must have West Nile virus. Look, I have a mosquito bite.” Maeve pointed to a small red bump on her arm. “How long does it take from the time you get a bite until you’re in bed dying?”
“A few days. But not many people die of West Nile, Maeve. Plus, it’s too cold for mosquitoes now. This doesn’t have anything to do with today’s math test, does it?” Charlotte held back a smile but Maeve saw it.
“You can laugh all you want, but I’m sick. I’m really sick. I think I need to go home right now.”
“You want me to go to the office with you?” Concerned, Charlotte looked at her watch. “I think we have time, but I’ll need to get to my math class so I have the full fifty minutes for my test.”
If Maeve went to the office now, she’d miss the test, but then she’d have to take it later. Another week of not sleeping. Maeve agonized over her choices, taking the test now and failing, or taking the test next week and failing. At least after this last tutoring session, her dad had called Mr. Sherman and reminded him to let Maeve take her test untimed in the resource room. That might help take the pressure off.
“Do you have any mints? I guess I’d better go take the test and then see how I feel.”
“That’s probably a good idea.” Charlotte searched and handed Maeve a peppermint she found at the bottom of her purse. “It may be a little bit linty, but these are good.”
“I don’t care if it has mud on it.” Maeve grabbed the mint, unwrapped it, and let the minty flavor run through her mouth and slide down her throat. “Thanks, that’s good.”
The Crow greeted her at the door. Maeve thought she saw a glint of something diabolical in his eyes when he looked at her. When everyone was seated, he walked to the front of the room. In a great show of crowlike excitement, he began to wave a stack of tests about.
“Good morning, class. I know all of you are as eager as I am to see just how much math you’ve learned so far this year. I have great expectations for all of you. If you finish early, I suggest you go back over your test carefully and make sure you’ve answered every question. Remember, even if you get stumped, show your work. Partial credit is better than none. Any questions?” The Crow was so excited; his eyes looked like two lumps of burning coal. Maeve wished—hoped, really—that he would just start melting like the Wicked Witch of the West. Then, the test would be cancelled. She could go to the cafeteria and socialize with her friends, maybe even get to say hello to Tim. Her dance partner had been very friendly lately, saying hi to her in the halls.
“Ms. Taylor-Kaplan, are you with us?” The Crow was standing over her desk. Was he smirking at her? Maeve’s palms began to sweat.
Lisa Chen waved her hand. “But what if we do finish early, check over the test, and feel very satisfied that we’ve done our best?” Isabel gave Maeve a quick smile. Usually, Maeve loved The Lisa Show. Today, however, she could only manage a wan smile in return.
“Then, by all means, Lisa, find something to read.” M
r. Sherman smiled his toothiest smile at Lisa, while his big black unibrow bounced up and down. She was probably his favorite student in the entire world.
Everybody was so stressed about the test that even the class cutups—Dillon, the Yurtmeister, and Billy T.—couldn’t manage their favorite imitation of what they called “the Crow Brow Bounce.”
Maeve had heard little past the word “eager” and then Lisa asking if they could leave early if they were finished. Peppermint saliva ran down her throat the wrong way and she choked. She coughed uncontrollably until Dillon reached over and pounded her on the back.
“Maeve is so eager,” Joline said, only loud enough for those around them to hear.
“Eager to find a way to escape before she even looks at the test.” Anna laughed as did everyone around them.
“Maeve will be taking her test in another room,” Mr. Sherman said, making a big show of handing her a sealed envelope that felt as if it weighed a thousand pounds. Great, Maeve winced. Not only was she singled out by the Queens of Mean, but now the Crow had just announced that she was the biggest math idiot in the class. Why didn’t he just tell everyone that she was “special” and had to take her test somewhere else. So much for just walking quietly out of the room.
“The rest of you, time to get to work.” Mr. Sherman cruised the room, watching people. He was getting ready to swoop down on anyone he thought was cheating.
“He lives for stuff like that,” Dillon had once said.
“Better get started, Maeve.” Maeve almost jumped out of her seat. Mr. Sherman’s voice was so deep and scary. Why couldn’t he sound like one of those chipmunks that sing holiday songs? Maybe that would lighten everything up and she could relax.
He handed her the test, which looked like it had been kidnapped by packing tape fanatics. The Crow had wrapped so much tape around the envelope that Maeve would need ten pairs of scissors to free the test. Did he actually think she was going to cheat on her way to the study room? She was suddenly furious. She might be math-impaired, but she was no cheater.