“Wow!” Venice said, sounding both sincere and impressed. “That’s so amazing. A sixth grader never gets that.”
Derby nodded. “It’s nice that Ms. Harlow believes in me. Not everybody does.”
“And that’s why we’re here,” Leo said, jumping in at what he probably thought was the perfect opening. “We believe in you too.”
That sounded so corny that I rolled my eyes.
“What—what Leo is—is trying to say,” Venice stammered, trying to help again, “is that we think you’re cool and interesting. And we want other people to think that too.”
Derby slowly shook his head and took off his triple-napkin bib. “Stop it. Okay. Just stop it,” he said. “I know what’s going on. And I’m tempted to get up and leave right now. Because I’m not a clown. You can’t buy me with cannoli.”
Wow. This was going way worse than I thought it would go. And I was expecting it to be a small disaster.
“We don’t think you’re a clown. And we totally didn’t mean to upset you,” Venice said. “We meant to do the opposite.”
“You’re not the first people to come to me with this kind of offer,” Derby said, pushing his tray away.
“We’re not?” I asked. Because it seemed totally bizarre that another group of people were also interested in making Derby popular.
“Reece Fontaine called me last night. So did Fletcher Zamora. And I’m pretty sure the Ringer twins left a note in my locker,” Derby said.
It was unbelievable that all these people would even want to talk to Derby.
“How did Reece get your phone number?” I asked. Because that, to me, felt like possibly a lie.
Derby smirked at me. “She’s Reece. She has her ways.”
At this point, Leo’s mouth dropped open and Venice looked at me really panicked, and I realized that if this plan had basically any chance of going forward, I had to take control.
“And what exactly did these people want?” I asked. Because there was no way in the world that this many people were invested in Derby’s future.
“The same thing everybody else wants. Special consideration,” Derby said, leaning back in his chair.
“And this is for what again?” I asked. Because it just felt like we still weren’t on the same page.
“The Wizard of Oz,” Derby said. “Our play is gonna be the bomb and everybody knows it. Shazam!” He snapped his fingers, but for some reason they didn’t make a sound.
Okay. This made more sense. People were sucking up to Derby because they thought he had casting power.
“That is not why we are here,” Leo said. “None of us are actors. And none of us want to be. We’re here for you.”
And I don’t know if everybody else thought that sounded creepy, but it made me feel uncomfortable. Especially when Leo pointed his finger in Derby’s face.
“Thanks for the cannoli,” Derby said. “But I’m going to go join my people.” He nodded at the drama-geek table.
Venice seemed heartbroken. Which made me feel bad. I was her friend. I didn’t want her to feel that way. I wanted her to feel happy. And while I was busy thinking about how bad I felt that my friend felt sad, Venice did something awful. She reached over and gently clutched Leo’s hand. I was stunned! Because whenever Venice had been upset before, she’d turn to me and I’d give her a fist bump or cross my eyes. But I guess that was all changing now. I guess she was going to turn to Leo. I had to rework this situation immediately.
“Derby, I’m going to be totally honest with you,” I lied. “We invited you here because we’re on Yearbook. And we think you’re somebody who should be remembered. And the best way for that to happen is to be featured in a special section. So we were hoping to get some good pictures of a few trailblazing sixth graders and make the best section ever. And we picked you.”
“Who are the other sixth graders?” Derby asked.
I wasn’t prepared to advance my lie that far ahead. My mind raced trying to think of other worthy candidates.
“It’s just you for now,” Leo said, practically ruining my entire plan.
“We’re starting with you,” I corrected. “But we’re adding other people very soon. So maybe if you gave us your class schedule, we could figure out a time to find you this week and take a few shots.”
“Hmm,” Derby said, looking pretty doubtfully at me.
I faked some confidence and pressed forward with my plan. “Where are you first period?” I asked. “Maybe we could swing by and get a couple of pictures tomorrow.”
“No way. I have Idaho History first period,” Derby said. “Mr. Falconer doesn’t allow flash photography in that room because of his historic letter and collection of authentic Nez Percé moccasins.”
I didn’t know why Mr. Falconer had so many crazy rules. Or why he hung that framed letter from Thomas Jefferson on the wall. If he wanted it to last forever, I felt he should’ve laminated it.
“Maybe we could do it during lunch?” I asked. “Or after school?”
“You want to hang out after school with me?” Derby asked.
I nodded enthusiastically.
“Um, I’ll need to talk this over with my mom,” Derby said, arranging all his lunch trash onto his tray.
“Really?” I asked.
“I need to split,” Derby said. “I want to read through my monologue a couple more times.”
“Don’t forget to clean your braces,” I added.
Derby blushed and looked totally embarrassed.
“I can’t help it,” I explained. “My dad’s a dentist. I always look at people’s teeth.”
Derby got up to leave and stepped on Penny Moffett’s heel as he rushed off, almost taking them both down to the floor.
“Ciao,” Leo said.
“Ciao,” Derby mumbled back.
“Did you guys just meow at each other?” I asked. Because that was what it sounded like to me.
“Ciao means ‘goodbye’ in Italian,” Venice said.
I wasn’t sure why everybody had suddenly fallen in love with Italian. I sure hadn’t.
As Derby approached the drama-geek table he tripped again on a rogue orange peel.
“He’s lucky he only broke one arm in the girls’ bathroom,” Leo said. “That kid lacks coordination.”
“Let’s not say mean things about Derby,” I said. “We want him to trust us.”
“I didn’t say it loud enough for him to hear me,” Leo argued.
But I didn’t even think that was the point. I thought we all needed to be on team Derby now for this to work.
“I don’t know why he complained about the cannoli. Those were exactly what he’d asked for,” Leo said.
I shrugged. “At least we have a chance to get some good pictures. If his mom tells him it’s okay.”
“Is Derby’s mom normal?” Leo asked.
Leo and I both looked at Venice. “How should I know?” she said.
“You had the inside scoop on his Halloween costumes,” I said.
“Let’s just assume that his mom is going to say it’s cool,” Leo said.
But I wasn’t sure we should assume that.
“The bigger issue we have is that taking pictures of Derby doesn’t automatically and suddenly make him popular,” Leo said.
And it was like Leo needed everything spelled out.
“Duh,” I said in a snarky way. “That’s why we need to instruct him on what to wear. If we can change how he dresses, even for a week, that can have some real impact.”
“You’re right,” Venice said. “If we change what he looks like right away, it will be a lot easier to help him.”
“Okay. I should call him and tell him to wear different clothes for the picture,” Leo said.
But Leo was terrible at talking to Derby.
“Perry should do it,” Venice said. “She’s better at it.”
And I wanted to laugh in Leo’s face when Venice said that, because what she was really saying was that Leo sucked at talking
to Derby.
I watched Leo pull his hand away from Venice. Wow. Anya was right. Group work did have the potential to cause relationship-ending stress.
“I’ll call him tonight,” I said. “And I’ll see if I can get a read on his mom.”
“Where will you get his number?” Leo asked.
“Reece,” I said.
“You have her number?” Venice asked.
“Anya does,” I said.
“You’re so connected,” Venice said.
And she didn’t even know the half of it.
Mom Threat
Anya O’Shea had zero patience. On the way home from school, she called me three times. I was still three blocks away from my house when I stood in the shade of an elm tree and finally answered. She sounded upset.
“It’s really important for you to keep me informed,” Anya said. “I don’t want my yearbook to have any hiccups.”
And I thought it was pretty telling that Anya referred to it as her yearbook, because really it was the entire school’s yearbook. But I didn’t correct her.
“I’m walking home and standing on a random corner,” I explained. I watched as two small birds hopped along the power lines above me.
“Sorry,” Anya said. “You probably think I’m being really pushy. I’m just super scared.”
She was right. I did think she was being super pushy. And it really surprised me to learn that she was super scared. Also, the small birds on the wire had multiplied and there were, like, a dozen of them.
“So I watched you guys like a hawk all lunch,” Anya said. “But it was impossible to tell how things were going. By the way, news alert, I saw Venice and Leo hold hands under the table.”
But that wasn’t even news. Because I was there when it happened and also when it stopped happening.
“I need to keep walking,” I told her. “I think a bunch of birds are getting ready to attack me.” I quickly hurried past the whole growing flock of them.
“It’s probably because you smell like twenty cats,” Anya said. “They’ve got really specific pheromones. Birds can sense them big-time.”
I didn’t think her logic made any sense. Because if that was true, I should’ve been attacked by birds pretty regularly. And that wasn’t the case.
I was so relieved when I rounded the corner to my street and zero wildlife followed me.
“Just tell me what you know for sure,” Anya said.
“I don’t know anything for sure yet,” I started.
“What?” Anya said, totally freaking out prematurely. “You’re killing me.”
“Listen,” I said, using my stern voice. “Derby suspects that we’re up to something, so we have to take it slow. He’s going to check with his mom and get back to us.”
“What a mess,” Anya said. “FYI, it’s always good to keep moms out of your schemes.”
“I know that,” I said. “It’s not like I invited his mom to be part of this. Derby did.” I’d made it two more streets when I got the feeling I was being followed. I looked behind me for the flock of birds. But I didn’t see any.
“Okay,” Anya said, taking a deep breath. “Let’s not get mad at each other. We’re on the same team.”
But I didn’t even know if that was true anymore. I flipped around again and noticed Hayes Ellsworth half a block away. Was Hayes following me?
“So where do things stand now?” Anya asked.
I turned back around and kept walking. “I’m going to call Derby tonight and see if we can set up a time to take pictures,” I explained. “If his mom is cool with that.”
“I loved what you were saying until you mentioned his mom,” Anya said. “You should cut her out of things ASAP. I mean, moms can totally get in the way.”
“Yeah,” I said. And it was like Anya wasn’t even listening to me. Because I didn’t have any power over what Derby told his mom. And I tried to think of a way to tell her this again, but she kept talking.
“Okay. Here’s the plan. Call me after you talk to Derby. If you can’t reach me, call Sabrina. I’ll be with her and her phone has way better reception.”
Anya was sounding extra bossy today.
“Can I text you?” I asked. “I’ve got a lot of homework tonight.” I’d made it to my house, but I didn’t want to go inside until I was done talking to her. My mom’s car was there and I didn’t want her to hear any of this.
“That is the rudest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Anya spat back. “This totally deserves more than a text.”
I nodded. But really I was starting to feel super bullied by Anya’s requests.
“Okay,” I said. “If I end up talking to him, I’ll totally call. Otherwise, I’ll text.”
“Cool,” Anya said, clearly happy that she was getting exactly what she wanted. “Is it weird that this feels fun to me?”
But then she didn’t even give me a chance to answer. She just hung up.
“Perry!” a voice called. “Perry!”
Instead of climbing my steps I turned around and faced a breathless and slightly sweaty Hayes.
“I’ve been trying to catch up with you for blocks,” he said, letting his backpack slide off his arm and land on my lawn.
“Why?” I asked. Because nobody had ever followed me for several blocks before. That I knew of…
“I’ve got some extra passes to go skating,” he said. “I thought you might want them.”
He reached his arm out to me and I saw his scabby elbows. I wasn’t sure what to do. If I took the free passes, did that mean I had to go skating with him? If I took Venice skating, would she want Leo to come? Looking at the four free passes fluttering in the breeze caused me to feel many things, and most of them were negative.
Hayes didn’t stop trying to hand them to me, even though I didn’t react. He actually reached and put them inside my hand, and then closed his fingers around mine and gave me a quick and powerful squeeze. Then he winked at me. “Don’t let them blow away,” he said. “I don’t give these out to just anybody.”
“Oh,” I said. And then I had no idea what to say. I couldn’t stop looking at his elbows. “Thanks!” Then I flipped around and went inside. When I saw Mitten Man slink into the living room, I started to feel more relaxed. “You are so lucky you don’t have to go to school,” I told him, scooping him up in my arms. “It can be a terrible place.”
But then my mom rounded the corner and I regretted saying that.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Did something happen at school?”
Flashing back on Anya’s advice, I really had no desire to add my mom to my scheme.
“I just have a lot of homework,” I fibbed.
“About that,” my mom said. “Dad called me this afternoon and he’s concerned.”
“About my homework?” I asked. Because that sounded weird. Because he hadn’t mentioned that to me. And really, I was lying about having a lot of it.
“He went on TRAC and saw that you’ve got an assignment due next week in Idaho History that’s worth ten percent of your grade,” she said.
“Oh yeah,” I said. “It’s nothing big. It’s a map.”
“Ten percent of your grade seems like a lot. How big is your map supposed to be?”
I put my hands out in front of me and made a square. “It’s a topographic map. I have to glue cardboard to show the elevation of the Treasure Valley.”
“Where is it?” my mom asked.
“Near Boise. It’s where a bunch of waterways drain into the Snake River,” I explained.
“I know where Treasure Valley is,” she said. “I meant your map.”
But that question seemed crazy, because my map didn’t exist yet. And I think my mom could tell I felt this way, because she said, “This isn’t fifth grade, Perry. You can’t throw it together at the last minute and hope it all works out. Your teacher is expecting you to have put some real effort into it.”
“How do you know that?” I asked. Because it seemed that maybe my mom was ta
lking to Mr. Falconer behind my back. And that was strange.
“If it’s worth ten percent of your grade, he’s expecting a serious map,” my mom said.
She was actually starting to frighten me. Because I’d seen other maps from the year before displayed at the back of the classroom. And I hadn’t realized they took that much effort.
“How much cardboard do you need?” she asked. “Should I have Dad buy some on the way home?”
“I figured we had some,” I said.
“Craft cardboard?” my mother asked with a voice filled with a ton of surprise. “Do you have your assignment with you?”
But I really hated how my mom was treating me like a child. I still had three whole days to work on it. I dug through my backpack until I found the assignment sheet. “Here,” I said.
She took it and began studying it. After a minute, she turned the page. I hadn’t even realized there was a second page.
“Have you read the whole thing?” she asked.
I shook my head. “Just the front page.”
“Okay,” my mom said. “I don’t want to upset you, because I know you’re putting a lot of your time into Yearbook, but you can’t let your other classes slide.”
“Nothing is sliding,” I said. “I still have a few days.”
“But you don’t even have the proper materials,” my mom said.
But I knew that wasn’t true. I grabbed some paper and a pencil out of my backpack. “This is all I need. Plus, the cardboard.”
My mother wrinkled her face in disappointment. “Perry, you need C-flute or B-flute corrugated cardboard. And your rivers must be labeled in blue. He suggests using a brush pen for that. And your mountains and valleys need to be labeled in black pen. No pencil marking allowed. And for scissors he recommends something with a partially serrated stainless steel blade with blunt tips.”
I returned my ridiculously inadequate pencil to my backpack. The way my mom talked about my map did make it sound like I should be working on it right away.
“You’re lucky Dad checked on this,” she said.
“You’re making me feel bad,” I said, collapsing onto the couch. “I’m doing my best here.”
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