The questionnaires were collected by the teachers and turned into the office. I was a nervous wreck waiting for the results. I talked to Kristy and Mary Anne about it at lunchtime.
"It's taking an awfully long time for them to figure out the results," I worried.
"Are you afraid they won't pick you as chairperson?" Kristy asked, sliding her tray onto the table next to mine.
"No, of course not," I replied. "It's my idea. Why wouldn't they pick me? I'm afraid they'll vote against the project." "I'm sure everyone'll go for it," Mary Anne said. "It's a great idea. Why wouldn't they want to do it?" I opened my milk carton and took a long sip. "I'm worried that half the students don't know what recycling is." "Oh, they know about it," Claudia said, laughing, as she joined us at the table. "Every square inch of this school is covered with posters." "That's right," Kristy said. "And every student got your newsletter in homeroom." Mary Anne dipped her spoon into her bowl of tomato soup. "And I know for a fact that you have given your speech to every student who has walked through the front doors of this school." "That must be why everyone is using the back entrance," Claudia joked. "They're afraid they'll hear Dawn's lecture again." "If they don't know about recycling, they'd have to be deaf and blind," Kristy concluded.
I nibbled on a carrot stick. "I hope you're right. I'm just worried that nobody cares enough to make it happen. Let's face it, most of the kids here are pretty apathetic." "Well, you've done your part." Mary Anne patted my arm. "You've told them about your program. You can't make people care. That's up to them." "I know, I know." I held up my crossed fingers. "Let's just hope they do." Stacey hadn't said anything during our lunch conversation, which was a little weird. But she'd been that way a lot lately. I figured she had other worries on her mind. Like her big test in history. But just as lunch ended, she said, "They'll vote for the recycling center so don't think about it." I was about to say thanks, when she added, "There are much bigger problems you should be worrying about." Before I could ask Stacey what she meant, the bell rang and she hurried out of the lunch room.
Mr. Kingbridge stopped me in the hall on the way to my next class. "Dawn, the office staff is tallying the votes. We should have the results by the end of the day." "Thanks, Mr. Kingbridge," I said, after the butterflies in my stomach calmed down. "I hope it's good news." "Me, too," he said, patting me on the shoulder. "Me, too." I could barely concentrate in my next classes. All I could think about was the hard work I'd already put into the recycling program. I'd made phone calls, tacked up posters, typed up the newsletter - I'd even written notes to all of the club presidents and made a speech at a student council meeting. Mary Anne was right. There was really nothing more I could do.
Billing the last hour of the day I sat at my desk with my hands clasped tightly in front of me. My heart was beating so loudly I barely heard a word my teacher was saying. Then, five minutes before the end of class, Mr. King-bridge's voice came crackling over the loudspeaker.
"May I have your attention, please? Your attention, please." Everyone stopped what they were doing and listened attentively.
"I am very pleased to announce the results of this morning's questionnaire." My heart started pounding a mile a minute. This sounded like good news but I didn't want to jump to any conclusions.
"By an overwhelming majority, the students of Stoneybrook Middle School have indicated that they would like to host Stoneybrook's new recycling center." Cheers rang out from the students around the room but no one was cheering louder than me. In fact, I was shouting so loudly I barely heard the rest of the announcement.
"And as their leader for this project, the students have selected . . . Mrs. Estelle Gonzalez." The smile on my face froze. I blinked several times. Had I heard correctly?
"So all those interested in helping to start Stoneybrook Middle School's recycling program," Mr. Kingbridge continued, "please sign up with Mrs. Gonzalez." I had heard correctly. The students had voted for Mrs. Gonzalez, not me.
The cheering tapered off into excited talking. Amelia Freeman, who sat in front of me, turned around and gave me a sympathetic look. I tried to act nonchalant.
"I'm sure the students chose Mrs. Gonzalez because they wanted someone older to head this important project," I said to her. "Of course, Mrs. Gonzalez will use me as the student representative." "I'm sure you're right," Amelia said with an encouraging smile.
The more I thought about it, the more it made sense to me. Of course the students would want Mrs. Gonzalez to head the recycling center. After all, she was an adult, and that might make lots of things easier for us. Recycling companies and city officials would probably feel better dealing with a teacher than with a student.
By the time I reached my locker after school, I had almost recovered from the blow of not being elected. Then I made the mistake of getting a drink from the water fountain. Two girls, whose voices I recognized as those of Cokie Mason and Grace Blume, were talking just around the corner and I overheard every word they said.
"I'm glad the recycling program is going to happen here," Grace said. "I voted for it. Did you?" "Yeah," Cokie answered. "But I didn't vote for Dawn Schafer to run it." "Me, neither. She's been so obnoxious, acting like none of us have any brains." "No kidding. I heard Mrs. Gonzalez won by a landslide." "Yeah, she did." .
Cokie giggled and added, "I bet the only people in this whole school who voted for Dawn are her friends in that baby-sitting club." I couldn't believe my ears. People thought I was obnoxious! And not just a few, either. It sounded as if the whole school hated me.
I had never felt so humiliated in my entire life. All I wanted to do was hide. I waited until Cokie and Grace had gone, and then I raced into the girls' bathroom. I couldn't bear the thought of facing anyone. I intended to wait there until all the kids at school had gone home.
When I reached the bathroom I looked at myself in the mirror and burst into tears. They poured down my cheeks but I didn't even try to stop them. Now I knew what Stacey had meant when she told me I had bigger things to worry about. First I felt hurt, then I felt ashamed, then I felt angry that my fellow students could've done this to me. All I had wanted was to do something good. And this was the thanks I got.
I stood in the bathroom for at least half an hour crying. By the time I left, my eyes were puffy and red, but I was too miserable to care.
Chapter 11.
"Dawn, hurry!" Mary Anne shouted from downstairs. "We're going to be late for the opening ceremonies." It was Saturday, the official opening day for the Stoneybrook Middle School Recycling Center. The band was going to play while Mrs. Gonzalez cut the big red ribbon that had been strung across the row of recycling bins in the parking lot. Then the mayor of Stoneybrook would give a speech.
"I'm coming," I shouted as I ran a brush through my hair one last time.
I had been standing in front of the mirror for forty-five minutes, trying to fix my hair. I'd pulled it into a ponytail on the side, then a French braid down the center of my back, but nothing looked right. Finally I just let it fall straight past my shoulders. I don't know why I was worrying so much about my appearance. I wasn't even going to be involved in the ceremony.
That was partly my fault, I guess. Once the project had been taken away from me, I hadn't felt like doing anything to help create the recycling center. In fact, for a while I thought if I even heard the word recycle again, I'd scream.
Mrs. Gonzalez did ask me to be in charge of the newsletter and I couldn't very well have said no. I mean, she was my teacher, and pretty soon she'd be grading my science project.
"The newsletter is the most important part of this project," she had told me. "It will go to all of the parents of students at SMS, and be distributed to the library, banks, and the grocery stores and merchants downtown. I know you can make it a good one." She didn't add that it was one project that didn't require me to work with anyone else. But I got the picture.
I worked really hard on the newsletter, anyway. I wanted to show Cokie and Grace and all t
he students at SMS that they couldn't defeat me. But I didn't volunteer to do anything else for the center. I didn't paint signs or distribute fliers. I didn't even offer to help out on opening day. And nobody asked me to. I guess that was what was bugging me.
"Dawn?" Mary Anne stuck her head into my room. "Are you okay?" "Sure." I turned around to face her and plastered a smile on my face. I held up my brush. "I was just trying to comb a few knots out of my hair." "Oh." Mary Anne came into the room and sat on the edge of my bed, watching me carefully. "I thought you might be feeling a little, um, weird about today." Leave it to Mary Anne to know what I was thinking.
"I mean, this was your idea," she continued. "And they didn't even put your picture in the paper." The Stoneybrook News had sent a reporter and a photographer to our school on Friday. They'd interviewed Mrs. Gonzalez and the vice-principal and asked a few of the students who were putting last minute touches on the recycling bins to pose for them. Mrs. Gonzalez had mentioned my name to the reporter but hadn't suggested they photograph me, too.
That hurt. I didn't want to admit it, though. Not even to Mary Anne. So I tried to laugh it off.
"My name was already in the article three times," I said. "I guess they figured a photo would go to my head." Mary Anne gave my shoulders a squeeze.
"Well, if it means anything to you, I think your picture should have been in the paper. I also think you should be the one cutting the ribbon today." I shrugged. "The students elected Mrs. Gonzalez to head the project. She really should do it." "Dawn!" This time it was my mother calling from the kitchen. "Do we have to separate the plastic bottles from the glass?" "Yes!" I called as Mary Anne and I came down the stairs. "And it would help if you separated the clear glass from the brown and green." My mother was standing in the center of the kitchen surrounded by paper bags and cardboard boxes. "This is a lot of work," she said, blowing a strand of hair off her forehead.
"Not really," I said, tossing a green bottle into a separate box. "Once you have the proper containers, recycling should only take about fifteen minutes of your time a week." The kitchen door opened and Richard came inside. "Well, the trunk's full," he announced. "It looks like we'll have to put the rest of this stuff in the backseat." "Oh, dear." My mother wrinkled her nose. "Won't that be messy?" Richard (who is Mr. Neatnik) shook his head. "I've covered the seat with trash bags." I patted my mother on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Mom, it will never be as big a load as this again. Now that the recycling center is open, we can make one trip a week." Richard picked up two more boxes and paused as he passed me. "Dawn, you should be very proud of yourself. This recycling center is good for the entire town." I smiled but didn't say anything. I hadn't told a soul about what I'd heard in the hall the day the election results were announced. I was too embarrassed.
In fact, my mom and Richard had no idea how hard it was going to be for me to watch the opening ceremonies.
"Now according to this newsletter," my mother said as the four of us headed for the car, "all we have to do is drive into the parking lot at SMS, and students will take care of the sorting. Is that right?" "I think so," I said. "Then later on today, parent volunteers will move the bins over to the main recycling center downtown, and empty them." "Somebody had to do a lot of planning to make this happen," Richard said.
"You can thank Dawn for that," Mary Anne said, wrapping her arm around my shoulder. "She drew up the entire plan and gave it to Mrs. Gonzalez." My mother checked her watch. "We'd better get a move on if we're going to make the opening ceremonies." "There's no need to hurry," I said. "The band plays first, and you know how terrible they can be." Mary Anne giggled. "They have to announce the name of the song before they play it. Otherwise no one would ever recognize the tune." Our car was so packed with bottles and newspapers that the four of us had to cram into the front seat. I sat in Mary Anne's lap. We arrived at the school with two minutes to spare.
As we pulled into the parking lot, my stomach felt as if it were tied in knots. Colorful flags waved from poles bordering the recycling station, with a banner stretched between them. It looked like a carnival, or a county fair. The recycling bins had been painted in reds, yellows, blues, and greens. On either side of each bin stood a student volunteer, ready to help people sort their trash.
"Hey!" Mary Anne leaned forward and peered through the windshield. "There's Claudia and everyone!" The members of the BSC were gathered around a health food stand that had been set up by the entrance to the parking lot. They were clutching large bran muffins, laughing and joking together as they ate.
"Dawn, do you want me to drop you off here?" Richard joked. "It looks like there are enough muffins at that table to last you a week." I tried to laugh but only a weak chuckle came out. "No, thanks. I've already eaten." It wasn't that I didn't want to see my friends. It's just that I didn't feel much like socializing with anyone.
Mary Anne shot me a worried glance. She knew what I was going through. "We can catch up with them later," she whispered to me.
Richard backed the car up to the bins and got out to open the trunk. He was met by Pete Black, who said, "Here's a raffle ticket, sir. Thank you for recycling." "A raffle ticket?" my mother's ears perked up. "What's the prize?" "A dinner for two at Chez Maurice, plus two tickets to the movie of your choice at the Stoneybrook Cinema." "Sounds great," Richard replied.
Then Emily Bernstein stepped forward. "Here's a pamphlet explaining why recycling is so good for the earth and a form to fill out if you want to subscribe to P3." "P3?" Mary Anne tossed a box of colored glass in the red bin. "What's that?" I answered before Emily could. "P3 is a terrific environmental magazine for kids." "What does the T3' stand for?" Mary Anne asked.
Emily started to reply, then shrugged. "You know, I'm not really sure." "Planet-3," I answered. "Which is Earth, the third planet from the sun." Richard looped one arm across my shoulders and beamed proudly at me. "Hey, you really know your stuff!" I should have felt wonderful but I didn't. I watched the student teams from SMS working together, smoothly directing parents to the different bins and handing out pamphlets. I felt like a total outsider.
This had been my idea. I was the one who had talked the vice-principal and the school into having a recycling center. Now I wasn't even a part of it.
"May I have your attention, please!" Mr. Kingbridge's voice came over the loudspeaker system that had been set up in the parking lot. "I'd like to welcome you to Stoneybrook Middle School's brand new recycling center." Mr. Kingbridge looked strange. Usually he wore a black or gray suit, a white shirt, and some dull tie. Today he was dressed in a striped rugby shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes (but he still looked like a man who should have been in a suit).
"We are thrilled with the turnout today," Mr. Kingbridge continued. "Everyone, give yourselves a big hand!" He paused and squinted out at the crowd as we applauded. "The mayor of Stoneybrook is here because she believes what we are doing is very important to our school, to our community, and to the world. Isn't that right, Mayor Keane?" The woman in the brown suit standing next to Mr. Kingbridge nodded pleasantly.
"And now, as we cut the ribbon, I'd like to introduce the person responsible for this project. If it hadn't been for her, today would never have happened." That had to be me! I was going to be introduced after all. Mary Anne turned and smiled in my direction and my heart started beating faster as I waited for Mr. Kingbridge to announce my name.
"Ladies and gentlemen, let's give a big round of applause for Estelle Gonzalez." The smile slid off of Mary Anne's face and she blurted out, "But what about Dawn?" Luckily the clapping was so loud that nobody but me heard her. Otherwise I would have died of embarrassment.
The rest of the ceremony seemed to last for hours, though I know it was only a few minutes. At the end of the ribbon cutting the band played "America the Beautiful." Then the crowd broke up.
I couldn't wait to get back to the car. Mary Anne, after saying a quick hello to Kristy and the rest of the BSC, joined me in the backseat. "You should feel very proud
-of what you've done," she said as our parents got into the car.
"Maybe I should," I mumbled, folding my arms across my chest and slumping down in the seat. "But I don't. So let's just get out of here, okay?" Neither of us said another word the entire trip home.
Chapter 12.
Kristy baby-sits for the Kormans often because they're neighbors. The Kormans live across the street and one house down from the Brewer mansion. Their house is really huge, too, but much fancier than Kristy's. It used to belong to the Delaneys, who spent tons of money on really outrageous things. For instance, they put this big fish fountain in their front hallway. They also installed an immense swimming pool and a clay tennis court in their backyard. They put gold faucets in the bathrooms and fancy furniture in all of the rooms. And there are a lot of rooms! Anyway, the Kormans live there now and they are really nice. Mr. and Mrs. Korman have three great kids - Bill (who's nine), Melody (who's seven), and little Skylar (who is one-and-a-half). Not too long after they moved to Stoneybrook, Melody became good friends with Kristy's stepsister, Karen.
The kids are a lot of fun and have active imaginations. Usually that's good, but now and then it makes for some unusual problems. Right after they moved in, Bill and Melody decided that a monster lived in their bathroom. (Actually, Mary Anne had sort of helped them come up with the idea the first time she baby-sat for the Kormans.) In the beginning the kids had had fun inventing goofy monsters, like the hot dog monster, the tickle monster, and the tiptoe monster. But the toilet monster created all sorts of problems. The kids were afraid to go near the bathroom. They'd hide in their rooms listening to the gurgling sounds coming from the toilet and be too scared to go to sleep. Luckily for everyone, the Kormans finally called a plumber and got the pipes fixed. That took care of the toilet monster forever.
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