“And we now have thirteen girls in our class,” Ms. Endee continued. “We used to have twelve, but Alexis makes thirteen.”
Right, thought Megan. Lucky number thirteen!
Megan had already done the math. She had eleven birthday invitations to her Positively Purple Party neatly addressed and assembled in a purple box in her purple backpack; she had only counted on a total of twelve girls at her party, including herself. Did she need to make another invitation? Did she have to invite the new girl? What was she going to do about Alexis?
“Thirteen is a baker’s dozen,” added Ms. Endee. She picked up her trusty blue marker and wrote the words “baker’s dozen” on the whiteboard. Snapping the cap back onto the marker, she asked, “Does anybody know why we call thirteen a ‘baker’s dozen’?”
None of the kids raised a hand. No one had heard the expression before, so nobody had a clue. Ms. Endee often used expressions and vocabulary words that they didn’t understand. Then she’d write the word or words on the whiteboard and ask someone to volunteer a definition. No one ever did. Now they waited for Ms. Endee to explain the term herself, as she always did.
Naturally they were surprised when, instead of launching into her own definition, Ms. Endee looked over their heads and said, “Yes, Alexis.” She was looking at the new girl.
Everyone in the classroom turned to look at Alexis—and when they did, they saw that the new girl had raised her hand. In fact, it was still raised. “A baker’s dozen is when the baker throws an extra cookie or doughnut or muffin into the box in addition to the dozen already inside,” said Alexis. “The extra cookie or doughnut or muffin makes thirteen. And that’s why thirteen is called a baker’s dozen.”
“Quite right,” said Ms. Endee, obviously pleased.
Megan and Cindy exchanged another look. Megan raised her eyebrows and rounded her mouth to show that she was very impressed. “The new girl is good,” she signed to Cindy. Cindy giggled, partly because of the jack-o’-lantern look on Megan’s face and partly because she loved the way Megan used sign language as secret code in class.
“And this whole discussion of bakeries is such a coincidence,” Ms. Endee continued with breezy enthusiasm, “because I have one more surprise for our first day back at school! A little surprise for recess!”
The students shifted excitedly in their seats. Cindy turned toward Megan and signed, “What now?”
Ms. Endee reached behind her desk and then presented a large pink box tied with string and obviously from the bakery. She placed it in the middle of her desk so that the entire class could see it—and naturally, they “oohed” and “aahed.” They could smell the freshly baked cookies at the back of the classroom. Megan turned toward Cindy and shook her hands excitedly, which was her own version of sign language for “Hooray.”
Ms. Endee leaned over the pink bakery box and announced, “Alexis’s mother brought cookies to school with Alexis today. I’m going to distribute them at recess, and I want each and every student to make a point of introducing themselves and thanking Alexis before they eat that cookie.”
The class chattered with excitement. Megan twisted in her seat to wave and smile at Alexis. But Alexis was the only student in the classroom who wasn’t wild with excitement about the promise of cookies at recess. Alexis sat in her chair with a sweet smile, but she gazed down at the desk as though she didn’t want all the attention she was getting.
Megan tilted her head thoughtfully to one side as she considered the new girl. Megan hardly knew Alexis at all except that the girl was smart with cool clothes and that she had a mom who knew about cookies. Megan also liked the fact that the new girl seemed a little shy. It was better than being stuck up. Megan was eager to get to know her better.
• • •
When the recess bell finally rang, the students pushed to Ms. Endee’s desk to raid the box of cookies. Jann had placed a stack of napkins next to the box and given the stack a twist with her fist so that it spiraled into a fun pattern. “A cookie and a napkin,” Jann admonished. “A cookie and a napkin.” By the time Megan and Cindy reached the box, only a few cookies were left.
“I got oatmeal raisin,” said Megan, wrinkling her nose. “I hate oatmeal raisin.”
“I got peanut butter,” said Cindy, wrinkling her nose as well.
“The boys ran off with all the chocolate chips,” said Megan with a sniff. She didn’t know it for a fact, but it was a fair guess and probably true.
“I’ll swap peanut butter for oatmeal,” said Cindy, holding out her cookie.
The offer made sense to Megan, and she agreed. “That’s why we’re best friends,” Megan said as she and Cindy swapped cookies.
As they nibbled their cookies, Megan and Cindy headed down the hallway and descended the concrete steps that led to the playground. “What do you think of the new girl?” said Cindy, being careful not to have a mouthful when Megan was reading her lips.
Megan was already searching the playground for Alexis. “We’re supposed to say hello and thank her for the cookies,” she said.
“What’s her name again?” said Cindy.
“Alexis,” said Megan. “Alexis Powell.” She finger-spelled the letters of Alexis’s last name so that Cindy got it right.
“How’d you know how to spell it?” asked Cindy.
“Ms. Endee wrote it on the whiteboard!” signed Megan, with an edge of exasperation. Cindy was her best friend, but at times Megan suspected that Cindy was difficult on purpose.
The two girls scanned the playground for any sign of Alexis. Suddenly Megan thumped Cindy’s shoulder and pointed to the far end of the blacktop. Together the girls looked just in time to see Alexis running at the head of a pack of fifth-grade kids who were playing soccer. Alexis outdistanced the other players with a shuffle step—a quick and efficient one-two-three like she knew exactly what she was doing. She tossed her blond hair over her shoulder and held her ground as two boys advanced on her with the soccer ball. Alexis faked to her left and landed a solid side kick on the soccer ball that sent it scurrying down the length of the field.
Megan and Cindy turned to look at each other, and when they did, their mouths were hanging open, full of cookie.
Megan swallowed before she spoke. “The new girl can play soccer,” she said.
“I know,” said Cindy, nodding and nibbling.
A couple other girls from class clustered around them as they watched Alexis charge downfield on the offensive toward the fifth-grade boy playing goalie for the other team. Alexis could really run and the girls groaned appreciatively when she elbowed a fifth grader out of her path.
“She’s tough,” said Megan.
“And she’s smart,” added Tracy.
“And she’s nice,” said Cindy, returning to her cookie.
“And I love her sweater,” said Megan. She glanced at the other girls to make sure they were all in agreement. The girls nodded. They all agreed. Alexis Powell was really something.
Megan took another bite of cookie and turned back toward the field. She didn’t want to miss what happened when Alexis reached the goalie.
“She’s practically perfect,” Megan said thoughtfully. She repeated the new girl’s name, practicing the way Ms. Endee had written it on the whiteboard. “Alexis Powell.”
• • •
The moment Alexis stepped off the soccer field, Megan and the other girls had her surrounded.
“So, Alexis—,” one girl began.
“Thanks for the cookies,” interjected another.
“Way to kick the ball!” said Cindy.
“Thanks,” said Alexis with a shy smile.
Megan burst through their ranks. “And I really like your shoelaces!” she said with a burst of enthusiasm. She pointed at Alexis’s purple shoelaces and tugged at her own purple sweatshirt so that Alexis could see that they were both wearing the same color.
All the girls laughed—except for Alexis.
“Um, thanks,” said Alexis, somewhat distr
acted. “Are we back in class yet?”
“Five more minutes!” said Megan, smiling about the whole shoelace thing.
“Great,” said Alexis, somewhat cool. She glanced past Megan to the other girls. “So do you bring lunch to this school or is the cafeteria okay?”
“On some days the cafeteria is okay,” said Cindy, “but on other days the food is scary.”
“On Thursdays they serve sloppy joes,” said a girl named Bethany, “and they’re always good.”
“And Tuesdays is pizza,” said a girl named Casey.
“So I should bring my lunch except on Tuesday and Thursday?” Alexis asked.
Megan dove into the conversation. “You could do that except some days the cafeteria serves something really good, so we’re in the habit of swapping lunches in case there’s something we like,” she said. “Like beanie weanie or macaroni and cheese but not the shepherd’s pie.” Megan made a gagging sound to suggest how disgusted they were by the school version of shepherd’s pie.
“Oh, right,” Alexis said, but she hadn’t been listening to Megan at all. Her nose was slightly scrunched and her brow was furrowed as though she were irritated or annoyed. Megan couldn’t be sure, but she sensed that Alexis wasn’t the least bit interested in her opinion. Alexis didn’t even look at Megan when she spoke; she looked the other way. Megan had the impression that Alexis was avoiding her.
Megan glanced toward Cindy long enough to see Cindy purse her lips into a disapproving prune. “What’s up with the new girl?” Cindy signed with a big dose of attitude. Megan quickly turned in the other direction. She didn’t want Alexis to think they would sign about her, since she probably didn’t know sign language.
“You’re probably thirsty,” said Megan. “Do you want me to show you the good water fountain?”
“Actually,” said Alexis, tossing her blond hair over her shoulder, “I think I know where the water fountain is.” With that said, she headed across the school yard toward the good fountain.
Megan, Cindy, and the other girls hustled to keep up with her.
“Where are you from?” asked Cindy.
“Texas,” said Alexis.
“Alexis from Texas,” said Megan, trying to make a little joke.
“Alexis from Texas!” Cindy repeated, wanting to make sure that Alexis appreciated how funny Megan could be—and that Alexis heard all the words.
Megan nudged Cindy with an elbow. “Hey, that was my joke,” she said for only Cindy to hear. “I said it first.”
“Yeah, I hear that joke all the time,” Alexis replied, not particularly amused but not particularly peeved, either. She had already outdistanced the fourth-grade girls the same way she had outdistanced all the fifth graders on the soccer field. At some point several girls stopped trying to keep up with Alexis and lagged behind. And eventually Cindy and Megan joined them.
“We’ll see you back in class!” Megan called after Alexis.
Alexis waved over her shoulder and trotted the last ten feet toward the good fountain—putting a healthy distance between her and the other girls.
“What’s up with the new girl?” said Cindy.
“Maybe she’s shy,” said Megan. “It’s okay to be shy.”
“Yeah, but why is she shy?” asked Brittany. “She’s practically perfect.”
“She wasn’t so shy with Ms. Endee,” Cindy observed.
Megan turned toward Cindy and the other girls. “Maybe the new girl doesn’t like to make new friends,” she signed, slowly and carefully so that they would understand the point.
“Maybe you’re right,” Cindy agreed, offering a little shrug like maybe it was true and maybe it wasn’t.
Megan flapped her wrists dismissively to end all discussion of Alexis. “Stop by my desk when the afternoon bell rings,” she said. “I’ve got something for each of you in my backpack. And spread the word to the other fourth-grade girls in our class too!”
The news that all the fourth-grade girls in Ms. Endee’s classroom were included in the surprise made the girls squeal with excitement. “I’ll spread the word,” said Kaitlyn, a girl in pigtails and new glasses.
“Me too!” said Casey, smiling wide in her brand-new braces. Megan smiled back, but she couldn’t help wincing as well. She was creeped out by the sight of braces on teeth. It was one of her pet peeves. And it didn’t help that Casey had become the absolute expert on crooked teeth ever since her first appointment at the orthodontist. She talked more now than she ever had before. The very idea of braces was enough to make Megan dance the heebie-jeebies. On top of which, it was practically impossible for Megan to read lips when the person wore braces. She had no use for braces whatsoever.
At that moment Ms. Endee appeared at the far end of the playground. “Heads up!” she cried, signaling the children to form a single-file line and head inside. Jann appeared beside her. “Back to class!” Jann cried, waving her arms overhead and positioning herself on the spot where the students were supposed to get in line.
The girls finished their cookies and wadded their napkins to toss in the garbage on their way back to the building. Cindy lagged behind to trot alongside Megan.
“But Megan,” she said, almost breathless with anticipation. “What are you going to do about the birthday party invitations and the new girl? We didn’t make an invitation for Alexis Powell.”
“When we made the invitations,” Megan responded, “we didn’t know there was such a thing as Alexis Powell.”
“But we do now,” Cindy insisted. “What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know,” said Megan, stalling to think through the problem. She didn’t feel right about excluding Alexis since all the other girls in class were invited. Yet she’d only just met Alexis, so it might be weird to have the new girl at the party. And she didn’t really want to invite the girl to her birthday party if Alexis was just going to ignore her the whole time.
“So what are you going to do, Megan?” Cindy asked again. They had almost reached the classroom and Cindy assumed that Megan had figured it out.
“I said I don’t know!” Megan snapped. She wasn’t upset with Cindy, she just wasn’t accustomed to the pressure.
• • •
Megan still hadn’t figured out the problem when the afternoon bell rang and all the girls in class descended on her desk in a flurry of excitement. Megan was relieved that she had Cindy to help her hand out the birthday party invitations. The extra effort she took with the feathers and the glitter paid off big.
“A positively purple party!” Casey cried out joyfully, despite a little difficulty wrapping her lips around the words, because of her brand-new braces.
Megan smiled happily as the girls clustered around her and eagerly asked questions about her plans for the party.
“Is there going to be purple food?” asked Kaitlyn.
“Wait and see!” teased Megan.
“And purple birthday cake?” asked Tracy Alesia, a girl who was so smart she had been advanced to fourth grade a year early.
“Wait and see!” repeated Megan.
Megan was perfectly happy being the center of attention. Even so, she couldn’t help but notice Alexis as she headed out the classroom door. Alexis glanced back at the cluster of girls and waved. “See you girls tomorrow,” Alexis said.
“See you tomorrow!” Megan called back. All the girls surrounding Megan fell silent and turned to look toward Alexis at the door. But Alexis was already gone.
“What are you going to do about the new girl?” asked Kaitlyn.
“She doesn’t know yet,” answered Cindy, coming to Megan’s aid.
“I don’t know yet,” said Megan, who was perfectly capable of answering for herself. “I haven’t figured it out yet.”
“Well, I know that if I was the new girl in school and all the girls were throwing a huge sleepover and I wasn’t invited, I’d feel awful!” insisted Casey.
“Me too,” said Tracy.
“Me three!” said Kaitlyn.
3
The New Girl
“IF I WAS THE NEW girl,” signed megan, “and all the girls in my new school were going to this big-deal birthday party sleepover and I wasn’t invited, I’d feel terrible!” She punctuated the statement by signing several exclamation points.
“There’s your answer,” said Megan’s mother, Lainee, who was mashing potatoes in a big steel bowl in the kitchen.
“That’s not the answer!” said Megan. “That’s the problem!”
Lainee set aside the bowl and wiped her hands off with a kitchen towel. “Well, let me ask you a few questions,” she said, pulling up a stool to perch beside Megan at the kitchen counter.
Megan reached for an open bag of tortilla chips. She might as well enjoy a snack while her mother addressed the problem. Lainee grabbed the bag of chips before Megan could reach it. “Not now, you’ll spoil your supper,” she said, sealing the bag with a big plastic clip and pushing it aside.
“Tell me about the new girl. Do you like her?”
“She’s practically perfect,” said Megan. “She’s smart, she’s pretty, and she’s amazing with a soccer ball!”
“Who’s smart, pretty, and amazing with a soccer ball?” asked Matt. He had been standing at the kitchen door, watching as Megan signed. “Not you, right?”
Megan looked at Matt for a second and then stuck out her tongue. Matt stuck out his tongue back at her. They were both too old to be sticking their tongues out, but that didn’t matter.
“Enough with the tongues already,” said Lainee. “How would you like it if I stuck my tongue out all the time? I could. I should. In front of your teachers. In front of your friends.” Lainee stuck her tongue out at Megan and then at Matt.
“Don’t do that,” Megan and Matt said at the same time.
“So who’s the practically perfect girl?” asked Matt.
Nobody's Perfect Page 2