My mom frowned when she saw me. “Why all the black?”
I’d decided to wear my black footless tights and black skirt. And a dark-gray slouchy T-shirt. I didn’t want to look too fierce, so I wore my magenta ballet flats. Also, I pulled my hair back into a ponytail.
“It’s how everybody dresses,” I explained. “Black is really popular.” Because I didn’t really want to explain my social situation to my parents.
“Aren’t you going to be hot?” my dad asked. “Black clothing absorbs the sun.”
I rolled my eyes. “Middle school doesn’t have sun. We have fluorescent light.”
“You are so cranky,” my mom said. “I hope you’re in a better mood for dinner and Piper.”
I slathered my toast in orange marmalade and took a giant bite. “Oh, I will be. I love her to death.” Now that she didn’t live in the house anymore and hog the bathroom, I really liked Piper.
“Your mom says you don’t want to talk about the snake assembly,” my dad said. “Did something happen?”
Wow. My parents really didn’t know how to switch topics. I’d stopped talking about this yesterday. But I didn’t want to make a huge deal out of it. Now that I wasn’t planning on changing the system, what happened yesterday didn’t matter as much.
I shrugged. “The snake was huge. I staged a photo. I gave a kid a panic attack. And I missed a big shot of the principal kissing the snake.”
“Wow,” my dad said. “Principal Hunt did that? I’m impressed.”
But his comment made me feel bad that I’d missed that shot.
“You sound so negative,” my mom said. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. It’s really hard to take pictures of moving targets.”
She gestured to my dad with her toast. “Phil, tell Perry about the time we went to that animal safari park near San Diego.” She rolled her eyes at me. “He couldn’t get a picture of anything.”
“That’s not true!” my dad said. “I got a great shot of the red river hog. But your mother destroyed it.”
My dad stood up and brushed crumbs off his lap.
“It was indecent,” my mother said.
“I think I’ve heard enough,” I said. Because I had no desire to hear my parents talk about an indecent photo of a red river hog.
“We should’ve framed that baby and hung it right in the living room,” my dad said. “I think it was the safari park’s main hog.”
My mother looked like she was about to lose it. Which surprised me, because she was the one who’d destroyed the photo. And no matter how bad the picture, I thought it was sort of a crime to do that.
“The only reason the hog stopped long enough for you to get a photo was because it was taking the world’s biggest poop,” my mom said. “And that doesn’t belong in the living room.”
My dad looked legitimately upset by what my mom was saying. It felt weird to be listening to this conversation. “Exactly what that hog was doing by the tree stump is up for debate,” my dad said. “It was probably one of the best photos I ever took.”
“I think I’m done,” I said.
I didn’t know what other sixth graders’ parents talked about at the breakfast table, but I doubted it was about whether or not a red river hog had pooped in a safari park by a tree stump fifteen years ago. I got up and took my backpack and got out of there.
Walking to school, I practiced what I would say to Venice over and over. I would not get mad about Leo. I would listen to his crazy theories. And I would try to remember as much as I could, word for word, so I could tell Piper and get her expert advice.
Be calm. Be calm. Be calm.
As soon as I walked into Yearbook, I thought I was going to blow it. Because Venice and Leo were hanging out in the craft corner. And it sort of looked like Leo had dressed defensively too, because he had on black pants with shredded knees that felt very hostile to me, and a T-shirt with a shark on it. If I were asked to pick out an outfit that a toxic jerk would wear, I would have selected those exact clothes. I couldn’t figure out what Venice saw in him. Bleh. Venice waved as soon as she saw me walk in, and so of course I made my way to the craft corner so I could pretend to be polite and say hello.
“How’s it going?” Leo asked me.
It was hard for me to even look at him in that crazy costume of an outfit. And even though every cell inside me wanted to freeze him out and pull Venice into a different corner, I decided to follow Piper’s advice and behave normally and listen to what Leo had to say.
“It goes well,” I said, taking a seat next to them.
“So is everything okay with us?” Venice asked, scanning my outfit up and down.
Ugh. I thought it was so rotten for Venice to ask me that with Leo sitting right here. How could I be totally honest? How could I tell her how much I didn’t like him and his clothes and his face and his hair and his breath when he was sitting two feet away from me?
“Yeah,” I said. “I think so.”
Venice smiled huge and gave me a hug. And it felt really good to get hugged by Venice.
“So,” Leo said. “Do you guys want some friendly advice on how to approach Ms. Kenny?”
When Leo spoke, the sound of his voice made me want to throw up all over his knee-shredded pants. I mean, I really did not want any of his advice. And it really surprised and even hurt me a little that Venice did. Because the way our friendship had worked until this point was that Venice and I agreed about everything. Even which people were nice and which people were annoying. Why was this situation suddenly different?
“That would be great,” Venice said. The way she smiled and blinked at Leo made the answer become clear: Venice was into him.
“Here’s your biggest problem,” Leo said. “Ms. Kenny loves Anya. So it’s not going to do you any good to complain about her. You need to come up with a way to get your ideas approved by Ms. Kenny and not Anya.”
I didn’t think that sounded like too big a problem. We’d just give our ideas directly to the teacher. How hard would that be?
“Anya is probably going to tell you that there’s a chain of authority and all the ideas need to go through the editor in chief. But if you follow that, your ideas will never see the light of day.”
“Got it,” Venice said.
I couldn’t believe that the starting bell hadn’t rung yet. This was the longest conversation I’d ever had before class. And just when I thought it was over, Leo kept talking.
“Don’t be afraid to make waves,” Leo said. “That’s my best advice. She’s counting on you two to be total followers. Today when we finalize the page count, push for sections you want to build, not the ones she’s already got in mind.” Leo moved his hand through the air like he was drawing waves, because I guess he thought we didn’t know what waves were.
“Well, she’s in for a surprise!” Venice said. “Right, Perry?”
Did listening to Leo’s ideas mean that I had to follow them? Piper hadn’t covered that part with me. I mean, even though I wore my power outfit, I certainly had not come to school today prepared to make waves. I tried to think of what Piper would suggest but it was impossible to do that, because I was sure what she’d learned in her AP psychology class would be much better than anything I could imagine.
Before I could worry about whether I should make waves, the bell rang and it was time to get to our assigned spots. Venice and I made our way to the long table next to Anya. Even seeing Anya made me feel anxious. Because I wasn’t sure if she was my friend or my enemy or a combination of the two.
“Cute shoes,” Anya said to me as I slid into my chair.
I carefully considered my answer. “They get the job done.”
Anya laughed at my response. And I think it was her laughter that helped calm me down. Piper was probably right. She wasn’t evil. She was just an eighth grader with a strong vision.
“So today is the day of all days,” Ms. Kenny said. “And after today, the next few months are set in stone. No changes. What we decide tod
ay we learn to live with for the rest of the year. Got it?”
All sixteen of us said that we got it. I think Leo said it twice.
“Anya turned in an outline last night that includes all our page counts, and I have to admit, I think it’s basically perfect,” Ms. Kenny said. She fired up her laptop and projected an index onto the screen.
“You are amazing,” Sailor called from her stool near the paper cutter.
“I totally agree,” Sabrina said. “Woot. Woot.”
“It’s an improvement over last year,” Javier said. “Because you give us three signing pages.”
“Yeah,” Anya said. “Having one autograph page was ridiculous. Mine got way too crowded.”
Venice looked at me like she was hearing the worst news of her life. But I didn’t feel that way. Because the index did look pretty solid. She had even included a page for the drama club, which Venice had said Anya hated. So clearly she was somewhat of a team player.
“Is there a reason we’re giving the boys’ volleyball team two pages?” Leo asked.
Oh, snap. I guess we all weren’t going to agree with the index. I waited anxiously to see what Anya would say.
“I gave the boys’ volleyball team two pages because Coach Battle is retiring this year and I thought we might want a tribute page. I mean, he’s been here for over forty years,” Anya said. “And he’s won five state championships. Also, I think he’s scheduled for kidney surgery.”
That really shut Leo up. Because it was basically a totally great answer.
“Are you sure the count for eighth-grader portraits is right?” Eli asked. “We need eight pages? That’s two pages more than the seventh graders.”
“Based on attendance records we need eight,” Anya said. “Unless you don’t want to keep the portrait size uniform from grade to grade.”
“We absolutely want to keep the size uniform,” Ms. Kenny said. “We fiddled with that a few years ago and it was a disaster.”
“Nice job, Anya,” Luke said. “You’ve saved us a ton of work.”
Luke Willard was one of the copy editors, and it surprised me to hear him say something positive because he’d been so negative about everything. Even when Ms. Kenny brought doughnuts.
“Do we have enough space for all our ads?” Venice asked. “Javier and Leo have been working overtime to sell space.”
Wow. She was really grasping for anything to complain about.
“Absolutely,” Anya said.
“Yeah, it looks good to me,” Javier said.
Like it or hate it, I think we all had to accept the fact that Anya had delivered the perfect index.
“Looks good to me,” I said. I glanced at Venice and she was scowling at me hard. Which hurt my feelings. I was just speaking the truth.
“I do see one problem,” Ms. Kenny said, moving the arrow on the overhead screen to the last page number in the index.
“What is it?” Anya asked. She sounded so shocked.
“We actually have an additional four pages. We have some money left over from last year. So we get to add another section. Maybe two more.”
From what I knew about Yearbook so far, four additional pages was a crazy amount of extra bonus pages. Some of our short sections, Look-Alikes and Field Trip Day, were only two pages each. So this meant potentially two new sections!
“Yes!” Anya cheered. “This is so fantastic. I know just what the yearbook is missing.”
“Hold on,” Ms. Kenny said. “I run this class like a democracy. I want to give everybody the chance to brainstorm and come up with a plan. Either we’ll add a section, or we’ll lengthen a preexisting section.”
“Add a section!” Anya cheered. “Let’s put our own personal stamp on this year.”
“Add one,” Sailor echoed.
And then something sort of weird happened. The whole class started chanting, “Add one. Add one. Add one.” I think Anya started it. And Sailor and Sabrina followed. And then everybody was doing it, except for Venice and Leo. I mean, even I did it. Adding a section seemed pretty harmless.
“Okay,” Ms. Kenny said. “That’s overwhelmingly decided.”
The class erupted in cheers. We were so dorky. Only a dedicated Yearbook staff would care so much about getting four extra pages. Venice and Leo had a different reaction and they frowned at each other. They were such downers. Seriously. It was like the rest of the class was happy, so they had to go form the bummer zone.
“Moving on. You know we can’t leave a section untitled. It’s just not in my DNA to do that. So by the end of class today, we need to decide what section we’ll be adding.”
Venice shot her hand up. “I thought you said there might be room for more than one section.”
Ms. Kenny turned off the overhead and closed her computer. “If you can think of two sections and the class votes that way, we can absolutely add two sections.”
“I really think one amazing section would be the way to go,” Anya said, speaking directly to Ms. Kenny.
“Don’t convince me,” Ms. Kenny said. “Talk it out among yourselves. We’ll take a vote at the end of the class. Feel free to look at these.” She set out a box of old yearbooks. They looked dusty.
Suddenly, the room became electric. Anya made a beeline for Luke. Other students headed straight for the box.
“Dude,” Javier said. “I think I found my dad in this one.”
Venice took the green yearbook emblazoned with gold mountains and our school name and then began to scour over the pages. It was like she thought we were going to have a test on it or something.
“This will really give us a chance to make our mark,” I heard Anya say.
Anya continued to work her way around the room while Venice and Leo and I looked at old yearbooks. I was surprised by how much eye makeup some girls wore. I mean, they looked like meerkats.
Finally, Anya made her way to our table. “Okay,” Anya said. “So I was thinking it might be fun to have a section for What’s Hot. We could totally use all four pages. Think about it. It could really tell the story of our year.”
Venice looked mad. And so did her sidekick, Leo. “Don’t the popular kids get enough space?” Venice said.
Yikes. She really wasn’t holding back.
“I don’t look at it that way. I mean, so many students at Rocky Mountain Middle School are on the brink of fame. Reece Fontaine will probably be in the Junior Olympics next year. And Fletcher Zamora has been in three national commercials. And Hannah Jones just won a regional chess championship. I mean, there’s a ton of talent in our class.”
It seemed reasonable. Those people probably were going to be famous.
“And we can include lots of topical stuff too. We can get the school to vote on stuff they think is hot. Fro-yo flavor. Song. Movie. Book. Dog breed. Pizza place. Ski slope. Dance move. Inspirational quote. This section could be fantastic.”
Venice acted like she hadn’t even heard what Anya just said. “Our theater club has a ton of talent too. Maybe we could shine a light on them?”
Anya didn’t comment and rolled her eyes.
“What do you think, Perry? Do you have any ideas for the additional section?” Venice asked.
I couldn’t believe she would put me on the spot like that. I’d sort of already agreed with Anya.
“Um, her idea about hot stuff sounds good,” I said, pointing to Anya.
Then I looked at Venice. She wasn’t smiling at all.
“Maybe we should get the whole class to talk about this,” Leo said.
They were being so difficult. Anya had a great idea and they knew it. Those people Anya mentioned were probably going to be super famous. Plus, things that are hot are topical and they matter to everybody. Why not dedicate part of our yearbook to a few people’s super accomplishments and a bunch of hot stuff?
“Do you not like the idea?” Anya asked. “Because it’s fine if you don’t. But this is a democracy and you and Leo are only two votes, so unless you can get half the cl
ass to agree with you, it feels like we’re wasting time.”
Snap! Anya wasn’t fooling around.
“Okay,” Leo said loudly. “Venice and I want to bounce a few ideas around about the additional section. Cool?”
At first there was silence. Even though (for some crazy reason I didn’t understand) people in the class liked Leo, we weren’t used to him trying to lead the class.
“Go for it,” Ms. Kenny said. “You’ve got twenty minutes until the vote. I need to run to the office. Don’t miss me too much. Anya, you’re in charge while I’m gone.”
As soon as the door shut behind Ms. Kenny, the room grew super quiet.
“Venice?” Leo said in an annoyingly sweet voice. “You had an idea.”
Everybody turned to look at Venice.
“Maybe we can feature the theater club in a fun way,” she said, playing with the drawstring on her pink hoodie. She looked nervous.
I was surprised that Venice had suddenly become obsessed with the theater kids. She didn’t even know any of those people very well. In fact, I think she’d referred to a bunch of them as dramatic attention-seekers. I guess she’d focused on them because Leo had said that Anya had said she didn’t like them. It was as if Venice and Leo were becoming the same person and they’d only known each other for a month!
“We do club pictures for all the clubs. And theater will have their own,” Anya said.
Venice kept flipping through last year’s yearbook. The way she turned the pages was beginning to feel aggressive.
“That sounds right,” Sailor said, nodding. “A What’s Hot section still works for me.”
Numerous “yeahs” mumbled through the room.
“Maybe we could do something with the sixth graders?” Venice offered.
Her idea was so vague I almost felt sorry for her.
“Can you be more specific?” Anya asked.
“Um, maybe have captions about, um, what they thought middle school would be like,” Venice said.
I looked down at the desk. Total silence followed this suggestion. I could hear the clock in the room next door ticking.
“I have an idea,” Leo said. “Have a section that features clubs that haven’t been made official at the school. Like botball robotics club or the Ultimate Frisbee club or Crafts for a Cause. Those guys made wallets out of duct tape that they sold for Alzheimer’s patients,” Leo said.
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