Freaked Out

by Annie Bryant

  3. What if they won’t let me go to the party? What if they won’t let me go anywhere until I study and pass the math test the second time around?

  4. What if I’m grounded for the rest of this year?

  5. I need a vacation.

  * * *

  Before social studies, Charlotte had handed Maeve an envelope full of mail for her “Ask Maeve” column. Now, with the house quiet, was a good time to catch up. She read through the letters and selected one to answer first.

  Dear Maeve,

  I have a really, really big impossible problem. I’m afraid of my parents. Both of them. Not that they are mean to me or anything. It’s just that they always know exactly what I should do anytime a problem comes up. They tell me. And they expect me to do that very thing. If I don’t, they yell at me. Don’t they know I have a mind of my own? But if I argue, they get mad, and pretty soon I’m grounded. Well, you get the idea. ~ Living in fear

  Wow! Maeve thought about what to say. At least when she had a problem, like math, her parents listened to her try to explain it. She was going to sit in on the math conference at school. She didn’t know what she’d say, but she’d be there to defend herself.

  Dear Fearful,

  Your parents may not realize you are not a little kid anymore. Maybe they made a lot of mistakes as a kid and can’t stop thinking about that. They think they are doing the right thing. Try writing your parents a letter. Say what you said to me. Let them think it over when you’re not there. I’m almost 100% sure they don’t want you to be afraid of them. Try talking to them again before you have a problem. Talk about everyday things. That way, it won’t seem so hard to approach them about something complicated. I hope this helps. Write me again. I care.

  At least Maeve had parents she wasn’t afraid of. She leaned back against her big flower pillow and drifted off. As she closed her eyes, a huge red flashing F appeared in her brain. “Be gone,” she said out loud as she waved her hand in the air like a wizard commanding a newt to disappear. Mmm, she thought as she drifted off to sleep. It was wonderful to be in charge.

  Panic City

  “Maeve! Are you home? She’s home, Ross. Her books are here. Maeve?” Ms. Kaplan climbed up the stairs.

  Maeve’s door was open. “Here she is, Ross. She’s asleep.”

  Maeve’s eyes fluttered. She felt like Sleeping Beauty awakening from a deep hundred-year nap.

  Ms. Kaplan shook her. “Maeve, wake up. Do you have any idea how worried we were?”

  Maeve sat up, rubbed her eyes, and yawned. “Worried? Why? I’m okay.”

  “Why? I told you I’d pick you up after school and we’d go shopping. I was a few minutes late, but I knew you’d wait for me. When you weren’t outside, I waited and waited. Then I went inside, but the school was empty. Mrs. Fields said everyone had gone home.”

  Maeve blinked her eyes. She forgot a shopping trip? Impossible! The math test and that mind-numbing F had wiped out all her brain cells.

  “Mrs. Fields is worried. I need to call her.” Maeve’s mom popped the cell phone from her pocket, but left the room to dial Ruby Fields’s number.

  Maeve’s father came in the room and sat on her bed. “Maeve, honey, what’s wrong? Are you sick?”

  Maeve did feel strange, as if she really was Sleeping Beauty, and instead of five or ten minutes, she’d slept for years. “I was just tired. And Dad…”

  “Yes, is there some trouble? Are you in trouble?”

  “Sort of. I flunked my math test. I guess that’s what made me forget Mom was picking me up. Charlotte offered me a ride and, well…I’m sorry if I scared you and Mom. What if Mrs. Fields won’t let me come back to school?”

  “Nonsense. We talked about this. Flunking the test isn’t the end of the world.”

  “Maybe not to you, but I studied and I still flunked it. I just can’t understand seventh-grade math.”

  Mr. Taylor sighed. “I know, Maeve. I understand.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes, now let’s go downstairs and talk. We sent Sam back to his friend Gary’s house with money to order pizza. We thought we might have to look for you.”

  “Where would I be?” Maeve said. “What are we having for dinner? I went to the library to look something up, and I missed lunch.”

  “Well, we can’t have you starving, now can we?” Her father reached out and smoothed Maeve’s hair like he used to do when she was a sick little girl. “I think we’ll go out to some nice quiet little restaurant where we can talk. Would you like that?”

  “Yes.” Maeve got up. “I have to change clothes. These are all wrinkled.”

  “Fine. Take your time. I’ll make sure our plans are all right with your mother.”

  Maeve looked in her closet for something colorful, then settled on jeans and a top with multicolored sequins. She washed her face, brushed her teeth, then took a little time with some makeup. Her idea was that if she looked good, she’d feel good.

  “Where shall we go?” her dad asked, once they were in the car. “Anna’s Taqueria? Do you feel like Mexican?”

  “Anna’s will be too crowded,” Maeve decided. Maybe filled with kids from school. She was worried. Everyone went to Anna’s. She didn’t want kids to hear her talking about math with her parents. Plus, Maeve hadn’t had a moment alone with her parents in a long time. Tonight was special, if she could forget why it was happening.

  “Someplace quiet,” Maeve’s mother said, rubbing her forehead. She probably had a headache. Maeve hoped she wasn’t the cause of it. It must be hard being a parent, she figured, especially when you had a child who was having trouble in school.

  “Sorry, Mom,” she said, just loud enough for her mother to hear.

  “Someplace near Brookline Village,” her mom said. “We can find a restaurant there, and maybe it won’t be as crowded.”

  Once they were settled at a table at the Village Smokehouse, Ms. Kaplan collapsed in her chair, leaning her chin on her elbow, and staring at Maeve’s dad. He stared back. Maeve was dying to ask them if they were dating or something. There was a sort of electricity between them that made a part of Maeve wish they could have gone out alone, but then again maybe her math problems were bringing them together again.

  The waiter came and her dad ordered coffee, a steak, and a salad.

  Her mother said she’d have grilled salmon and a salad.

  “Maeve?”

  “I’ll have a hamburger and lemonade.” She studied the menu. “Mom, can I have the mud pie for dessert?”

  “Whatever you like,” her father said. “This is a celebration. We’re celebrating having dinner with our beautiful daughter.”

  “But dumb.”

  “You’re not dumb, Maeve,” Mr. Taylor reassured her. “I want you to banish that word from your vocabulary. There are all kinds of smarts in this world. Don’t you think being able to be an actor and make someone laugh or cry with a look or a phrase is a certain kind of genius? You and the rest of the world need to expand your definition of intelligence. So you need some help with your studies. That’s no crime. Maybe a different tutor.” Both of her parents reached over and patted her hand at the same time.

  “No, I like Matt. This isn’t his fault. He’s patient and nice and he really helps me. Remember how last year I couldn’t even manage percentages? Well, I can do them now. My problem is that I have math phobia.” When Maeve saw her parents’ bemused expressions, she added for emphasis, “I have all the symptoms. Really.”

  “I don’t know, Maeve.” Her mother looked skeptical.

  “Seriously, Mom. I looked it up. My mind goes completely blank when somebody asks me a question about math. I get nervous when I go to math class. I can’t pay attention and my mind wanders, I don’t understand when the teacher talks, and I wish I was somewhere else….”

  “Maeve, honey.” Her mother held up her hand. “I think you make a very good case. But even if you were able to control your anxiety, I think math would still be difficult for you.”
Her dad nodded in agreement with his wife.

  Maeve was really feeling pumped. “I really know that. But listen to this. When my friends helped me study, we made up songs and stories and football cheers to help me remember formulas. I think I can keep doing that and with Matt’s help, I can learn how to use those formulas with the right problems. What I can’t do is understand what the Crow—”

  “The crow?” Both parents looked totally confused.

  “I mean Mr. Sherman. I can’t understand what he’s saying, and he goes too fast, and then I think I am stupid, and it’s all over.” Maeve’s woeful expression caused both parents to laugh.

  “It’s not funny, you guys,” protested Maeve. “I need math therapy.”

  “Maeve, I’m very proud of you,” her mother said after collecting herself. “It sounds as if you’ve taken some positive steps to help yourself.”

  “Well, I sort of remembered that my sign is Taurus, and Taurus is a bull, and bulls are stubborn, and I’m going to let my stubborn gene kick in to get over being scared of math.”

  Her mother and father looked at each other, trying to hold back a smile.

  “You can laugh if you like, but I’m your daughter. You probably have some stubborn genes, too.”

  “No kidding.” Her mother laughed and took her dad’s hand. They sat there like that, holding hands and looking at a bemused Maeve.

  After a nice, slow-paced dinner where they talked about movies and things other than math and Maeve, she went back home full of chocolate mud pie and hope.

  “May I go up to my room and study?” Maeve asked.

  “Yes, but maybe you don’t need to study too much tonight. Just go to bed early and start over tomorrow,” her mother said, surprising Maeve. Several months ago, she would have said, Study all night if that’s what it takes.

  Maeve got ready for bed but decided to check in with her friends to let them know she was okay. After her nap she wasn’t very sleepy anymore.

  Before she went to sleep, Maeve arranged her hair on her pillow to look lovely in case a prince came to discover her in her dreams.

  Upside Down Plans

  “I can’t believe it, Elena,” Isabel said. She was almost asleep when Elena came in, shook her, and wanted to talk.

  She sat up straight and rubbed her eyes.

  “I was foolish, Isabel. I admit it. I was loca. I thought Jimmy Riggs really liked me. He kept begging me to go out. Then when I said I would, when I made all sorts of sacrifices to change my schedule, he decided he’d rather go out with Lilli Harbeck. He just dropped me without even trying to hide what he was doing.”

  “Papa would say that he was a ‘no good hombre.’”

  “I don’t care. I think the entire school knew what was going to happen way before I did, anyway. How could I have been so stupid?” Elena Maria wailed.

  “You aren’t stupid, Elena. I think that chico was stupid for not wanting to go out with you. Don’t waste your time thinking about him.” Isabel was outraged that someone would treat her sister like that. Even though Elena could be so annoying, she was her sister.

  “You are so nice, Izzy!” Elena started to cry.

  “Girls, girls,” Aunt Lourdes said, coming into their room.

  “What are you fighting about? Why is Elena crying? When I was your age—”

  “Elena is crying because I’m too nice,” Isabel said, leaving Aunt Lourdes to stare at them both, then turn around and leave.

  Elena giggled. “At least she didn’t say at her age she was too nice. Sleep tight.” Elena shut the door quietly behind her.

  Isabel punched in Avery’s number.

  “Hey. Isabel, that you? I’m getting ready for bed.”

  “I was falling asleep reading when Elena woke me up. She was having a major meltdown.”

  “What happened to Elena?”

  “She’s just being muy loca. The boy she was going out with just dumped her.”

  “Nice guy.”

  “A rat, I think. Anyway, she is going to baby-sit the Fergusons, but I am still going to help her. Those two little devils require a tag team approach. You can baby-sit with Elena and me if you want. I don’t mind at all.”

  “Uh, no thanks—I don’t really want to hear any more of your sister’s tragic romance stories. No offense.”

  “But what are you going to do on Saturday?”

  “I’ll find something.”

  “Yeah. I’m sure something will come up. Well, come over to the Fergusons’ if you want. We’ll need all the help we can get with those little monsters.”

  “Maybe.”

  “I’ll pay you half of my share.”

  “You don’t have to do that. I’ll talk to you later, Izzy.”

  “Bye.”

  Avery shut off her light. What would she do Saturday night? Stay home and stare at Walter shedding his skin? She’d hate to miss that. Suddenly, the tears began rolling down her face and she couldn’t stop them. At that moment, her mother opened the door to say goodnight. Avery turned and buried her face into the pillow. Her mother rushed over to her bed and sat down beside her. She put her hands on Avery’s head and began to gently stroke her daughter’s hair. She didn’t say a word. When Avery’s sobs finally subsided, her mother simply said, “Tell me about it, sweetheart.”

  Part Two

  Crazy Times

  CHAPTER 11

  Ready to Party

  What to wear? What to wear? For some reason, Maeve just couldn’t think of anything, so she tossed on her favorite sweatshirt from Think Pink and a pair of jeans. She slipped on pink flip flops, thrilled her toenail polish with the pineapples was holding up.

  A familiar squeak reminded her she had responsibilities in addition to looking fantastic. She found a mound of dried-up bread crusts and approached her guinea pigs. They leaned on the cage and looked at her, noses sniffing, anticipating something. Anything.

  “Today I christen you Salt and Pepper, or should you be Coffee and Cream? Yes, that’s better.”

  Cream jumped on his exercise wheel and did a quick twenty laps before Maeve could get the door open and feed the bread to them.

  “Ooh, you are such a little track star. I’m going to sign you up for Abigail Adams cross country,” she cooed to her little buddy.

  Suddenly, a funny thought came to her. She shared it aloud to see what Coffee and Cream thought about it.

  “If Coffee ran, turning her exercise wheel ten revolutions per minute, and Cream left two days later, turning his exercise wheel fifteen revolutions per minute, which GP would get to eighth grade first?”

  Now, which formula should she use to solve the problem? She had no idea. She’d have to ask Matt to help her figure it out sometime.

  While Maeve filled the water and pellet bowls, Cream grabbed the biggest crust and took it into an empty toilet paper roll to eat all by himself. He was such a chow hound.

  Quickly, she grabbed up all the papers that had fallen off her bed and stuffed them into her backpack along with her books and laptop.

  In the kitchen, Sam poured Cheerios into a bowl and drowned them with milk. He kept pushing the tiny brown lifesavers underwater to watch them pop back up.

  “Eat that cereal, Sam,” Ms. Kaplan said. “And, Maeve, please be here right after classes to baby-sit Sam.”

  Sam grinned at Maeve, jumped up, and froze into a karate chop pose. “And watch out for closet doors.”

  Maeve’s mother looked at her, then her face softened. “Pretty in pink.” She hugged Maeve. “But look at your feet. You girls and your flip-flops. Your feet are going to freeze. Eat some breakfast. Since I’m already late, I’ll give you a ride as soon as you’re ready. You and Sam, too.”

  Party Buzz

  Now that it was almost here, all anyone at Abigail Adams was talking about was Julie Faber’s party. Maeve heard the buzz from every small group of girls clumped together around their lockers like schools of bright fish off the beaches of Hawaii.

  “What are you wearin
g? Something Hawaiian or just regular party stuff?” “Hair hanging loose would look better if she gives us leis.” “Maybe she’ll hand out orchids. You’d need your hair down for that, too.”

  “Cute headband, Maeve,” Katani said when they stopped at their lockers. “What’s the occasion?”

  “Nothing much, but this sparkly band makes me feel like dancing.” Maeve executed a perfect combination, then took one step back to make room for a spin.

  “Ooof! Maeve, look before you twirl.” Maeve crashed into Dillon, who tried to catch her before she went sprawling onto the floor.

  All Maeve could do was laugh at herself. A big splat on the floor in the middle of a busy hallway was too obvious to try and cover up. Maeve figured she better just go with it.

  Dillon helped her up from the floor and everyone headed toward the cafeteria.

  “Important announcement!” the Yurtmeister shouted as he rushed by. “We’re having lasagna for lunch!”

  As they entered the cafeteria, Julie Faber, surrounded by her attendants, moved ahead of them. Julie tossed out words like grass skirts, hula girls, mango-pineapple punch, and coconut cake, loud enough for everyone in a ten-mile radius to hear. Lisa Kraft and Yolanda Jones looked over at Avery to gauge her reaction. Avery stared straight ahead. Wise words from her mother rang in her head: “You are better than this silly smallness of spirit.” She grabbed a sandwich, strawberry yogurt, and a home-baked chocolate chip cookie. Her mother said she should do everything she wanted this week to make herself happy. And a warm, just-baked chocolate chip cookie looked awfully tasty, Avery thought.

  When the Beacon Street Girls found a table as far away as possible from Julie, they sat quietly for a couple of minutes.

  “Go ahead, guys, talk about the party,” Avery said. “I know you’re dying to and I don’t care, now.”

  The tone of Avery’s voice was a little mysterious, but it was clear to the BSG that she was going to deal with it in her usual way. Charge ahead. Don’t waste time with small petty stuff. Charlotte admired her spunky friend. People could learn a lot from Avery’s attitude toward this whole party fiasco. Avery was filled with courage, and Charlotte hoped everyone at Abigail Adams would recognize it some day.