“It’s a prize awarded every year to the best American writers, poets, and musicians.”
“Did she get a fancy medal?”
“Oh, I’m sure of it. The Pulitzer is a big deal.”
“A big deal, huh?” The bell rings, and I take my seat in the third row behind Grace Lentz and in front of Diego O’Brien. I rummage through my book bag for my notebook and favorite pen. From the corner of my eye, I see Sara chatting with Hayley. No surprise. Victor waves at me the way people wave from parade floats—nonstop and with a big goofy grin. I shift my gaze to the blackboard but I don’t want to be rude, so I wave back at him really fast.
“Before we start today, I want to recognize our science fair winners,” says Mrs. Wendy.
“Diego, Sara, Ethan, will you stand up?” I turn around in my seat to watch them stand while the entire class claps. I thought I was over it, but I get a lump in my throat. It hurts when I think of how close I came to winning. I’d been working on my project since January, and now it’s nearly April. The school year is over in two months, and with it my chance to make my mark at Sendak. How did I let this happen?
“Okay, let’s get out your notebooks. You’ll want to take notes,” says Mrs. Wendy. “Alyssa made a great observation this morning. She noticed the poster of the great poet Gwendolyn Brooks on the wall.”
I turn ever so slightly to see if Sara has reacted to the mention of my name, but she is pulling something out of her desk.
“The reason I posted this is because it’s almost April, and if you recall, the deadline for the Kansas Trailblazer Contest is coming up. So far, I’ve heard of only two of you entering. I think Sendak can do better than that. What do you think? You can submit an original poem, song, or photo essay. Each of you should try for it.”
Not happening. I’m more of a science-fizz-bam-boom-poof girl than an artsy-fartsy type.
“Remember, there’s extra credit if you submit for the contest,” Mrs. Wendy announces in a singsongy voice.
Still not happening, no matter how singsongy she makes it sound. She brought this Trailblazer contest up right after winter break, and I wasn’t interested then and I’m not interested now.
“How much extra credit?” Victor asks.
“An extra ten points toward your final English grade,” says Mrs. Wendy. Some of the kids clap. I open my notebook to a fresh blank page. At the top, I write Allie’s List of Firsts. After the science fair fiasco, it’s time for me to get serious about my destiny. If I don’t do something amazing this year to make my mark, I just don’t deserve the Velasco name. I need something fast. Something epic.
“Poetry and songwriting are great ways to express yourself because they reveal truth and beauty …” Mrs. Wendy’s voice rises and her hands float in front of her. I look around the classroom to see if anyone is interested in revealing truth and beauty. Sara is cleaning her glasses. Hayley is putting on lip gloss. Victor sits forward like he’s listening hard to Mrs. Wendy, but I bet he’s daydreaming about green goo. “And photography isn’t just a bunch of selfies. Photography is images captured in a second that breathe and burn forever.”
Burn forever? Sounds dangerous. No thank you.
“Is the extra credit only if we win the contest?” Victor asks.
Geesh! He must really need the extra credit. Poor guy.
“Ten points for entering. If someone from my class wins the whole thing, that would be fantastic!” She beams. “I’ll give that student even more points toward their English final grade. How’s that?”
Victor seems pleased and writes something down in his notebook.
“Think about this, class …” Mrs. Wendy continues. “Despite our academic reputation as one of the best schools in the city, there’s never been a winner from Sendak.”
Never been a winner from Sendak? How’s that possible?
I raise my hand.
“Mrs. Wendy, are you sure there’s never been a winner from Sendak?” I ask.
“Yes, I’m one hundred percent certain.”
She has my attention now. I raise my hand again.
“So if someone from Sendak won, he or she would be the first ever?” I ask. Hayley snorts, but I ignore it because I’ve heard all her judgmental snorts, sarcastic grunts, and dismissive scoffs and it doesn’t bother me anymore. In fact, I think she should see a veterinarian about all these animal noises she makes.
“Yes. First ever. Isn’t that exciting?” Mrs. Wendy knows she has me now.
There are murmurs rising from the classroom and several hands pop up.
“Yes, Diego?” Mrs. Wendy asks.
“So it has to be like a famous person who was first at something?” Diego asks.
“It doesn’t have to be a famous person necessarily. Trailblazers can be anyone. The original trailblazers were American settlers who traveled west for a better life. It just has to be someone who tried something different in order to make life better for others.”
Grace raises her hand, and Mrs. Wendy calls on her.
“I’ve already started a poem for my mom, but can I submit a song too?” Grace asks.
“Overambitious much?” Hayley says, and I look back to glare at her. She’s so rude.
Mrs. Wendy walks toward the blackboard. “Let’s review the contest guidelines.” She points out each rule. “Open only to fifth graders. All creative work must be unpublished. Photographs must be compiled into an accepted online presentation platform. One submission per student. Ten selected finalists must recite or present their piece before a panel of judges at a special ceremony.”
Several students groan about having to present in front of judges. That doesn’t bother me. I mean, I’ll be nervous for sure, but this contest was made for me. My family wrote the book on being first at things. Velascos are natural trailblazers. I could enter the contest and be the first student from Sendak Elementary to win it. I could finally have something to add to the trophy shelf. There’s got to be a trophy, right? I raise my hand again.
“Mrs. Wendy, will the first-place winner get a trophy?” I ask.
“Let me check.” She pulls a paper from the top of her desk and scans it. “First-place winner gets a trophy and two hundred dollars.”
The entire classroom gasps. Now everyone’s hands are up with questions. Sara and Hayley squeal back and forth at each other. “Two hundred dollars! OMG! Shopping spree!”
Mrs. Wendy shakes her head at the mayhem. “I know that’s a lot of moolah, but settle down. You haven’t won it yet.” Mrs. Wendy underlines APRIL 2 on the blackboard. “Now that I have your attention, keep in mind that the deadline is coming up, so if you want to enter the contest you need to get started.”
A few kids groan about the deadline.
“Easy now.” Mrs. Wendy tries to calm everyone down. “You’ve known about this contest since January. If you want to do it, there’s still time, you just need to focus.”
Grace turns to me, excited and red-faced. “Are you going to do it now? You totally should.”
I nod. I look down at my blank Allie’s List of Firsts and write: Trailblazer Contest. Luckily, I’ve got the perfect trailblazer in mind. That shiny trophy, engraved with the words Alyssa Velasco, First-Place Winner is going to be mine.
In the lunch line, all my classmates are still making plans for the two-hundred-dollar prize. Diego says he’s going to buy a new skateboard. Ethan says he’ll donate it to the animal shelter. Grace wants to take her mom out to a nice dinner because she deserves it. Hayley and Sara want a shopping spree. I grab my tray with a plate of chicken nuggets, carrots, and Tater Tots and take my usual seat next to Grace. Sara and Hayley always sit at their own table.
I’m barely in my chair when Victor comes out of nowhere and wedges himself between Grace and me.
“What’s up, Victor,” I say. “Want a chicken nugget?”
“No thanks! I have my lunch.” He puts a brown lunch sack on the table and pulls out an aluminum-foil-wrapped sandwich. “My mom packed me a torta. Want a bite?”
As he unwraps the Mexican sandwich, I gape at the torta filled with shredded chicken, cheese, and avocado. I’m really trying not to stare, but it is an epic torta. Next thing I know, all the girls are asking for a taste and Victor is more than happy to share.
“Allie, I still feel bad about ruining your volcano project, and I won’t feel right until I’ve fixed it.”
“What? There’s nothing to fix. I threw it out after the science fair,” I say. I dumped the big mushy pile of clay and goo into a large trash bin in the cafeteria. Good riddance!
“Not the volcano. You.”
“You want to fix me?” I give him a suspicious look.
“I saw your face,” Victor whispers, leaning in. “You know, today when Mrs. Wendy had the science fair winners stand up?”
I gasp because I didn’t realize that he had been watching me when all of us were applauding the winners. I slide a Tater Tot across my plate, wishing I could slide right out of the cafeteria.
“You looked super depressed,” Victor continues. “Like someone told you your puppy died. Like someone told you that you can’t ever eat ice cream again. Like you were told to—”
“Okay, already, Victor. I wasn’t depressed. I was thinking about my math homework … it’s nothing.”
Victor narrows his eyes at me like he knows it wasn’t math on my mind. Maybe it’s because his science project was green goo and he wears belt buckles the size of Texas with his jeans, but I doubt Victor is qualified to help me fix anything or understand how I feel. I mean, he hardly knows me.
“You really wanted to win the science fair, and I messed it up for you. Then it hit me how I can make things right. When Mrs. Wendy brought up the Trailblazer contest, everyone went nutso about the prize money, but you didn’t. Instead you asked about there never being a winner from Sendak and the trophy. I know what you’re after. You want a trophy. And more than that, you want to make your mark.” Victor snaps his fingers.
Hearing Victor say it out loud makes my heart beat faster. I look around the table. Does everyone know how desperately I want to be first at something before I graduate from Sendak? Grace nods and gives me a sympathetic smile.
“You know about her family, right?” Grace says.
Victor shakes his head. “What about them?”
I always forget that Victor isn’t from Kansas City. Of course he has no clue. My heart drops to my stomach and churns. Finally, here is someone who doesn’t know my family members and can’t compare me to them.
“Her big brother is Aiden,” Grace offers. “Last year at Sendak, he won a full-ride scholarship to Bishop Crest Middle School. He’s a soccer champ and also super cute. And then there’s Ava …”
“She’s the pretty fourth grader in all the commercials, right?” Victor says.
“That’s the one.” I roll my eyes. “And my big sister is Adriana,” I add. “She is, like, the smartest girl in the city. She won the Mayor’s Award when she was a student at Sendak. She’s a legend.”
“I know her.” Victor shrugs. “I see Adriana every weekend.”
I shake my head. There’s no way he could know my sister. She’s in high school.
“Whatever, Victor. How do you know her?”
“She heads the tutoring program that I go to. She comes in to work with the ESL kids every Saturday morning. I know Aiden too. When he doesn’t have a soccer game, he comes to the math room where I go. Adriana is nice. She always comes in to say hi to everyone.”
A wave of pride sweeps over me. Even though Adriana is super busy with school, she still finds time to volunteer with the tutoring program she founded. And it’s so cool that Victor is getting tutoring. Math is really tough this year, so I can understand why he would need the extra help. He’s probably not used to Sendak’s high level of academics.
“Both of them are crazy smart. Adriana is going to Harvard and all that,” Victor says.
My throat tightens. Just thinking about Adriana leaving makes me want to cry. “Well, she’s looking at other schools too. Schools closer to home, you know,” I say.
“She told me that she’s going to Harvard,” says Victor.
“Um, whatever. You don’t know. I’m her sister,” I say. “I think I would know first if she’s decided on Harvard. Besides, you’re missing the point. The point is that my family is super successful. My little sister, Ava, is going to win the Oscar for Best Actress someday, and Aiden will probably be the first twelve-year-old playing in the World Cup. Me? I can’t even win a stupid science fair.”
“Olvídalo. Forget about it,” Victor says. “I’ll help you.”
“Okay, nice. I guess. But I’ve already decided I’m going to enter the Trailblazer contest.”
“Oh.” Victor drops back in his chair like he’s disappointed. “I was thinking more along the lines of you being the first female Formula One or NASCAR racing champion.”
“Um, you realize I am ten years old. I can’t legally drive yet.”
“I know, but you’ve got to start practicing now so that when you have your license you can start racing professionally. We should start with go-karts and work up.”
“Thanks, but I’ll pass.”
“Okay, how about you become the first American to win the Olympic gold medal in Tae Kwon Do? You’re a little flaca, but you could bulk up.” Victor nods. “You have to join a gym, hire a coach, and practice for six hours every day. You need to start now in order to be ready for the next summer Olympics.”
“I don’t have six hours a day, Victor.” I shake my head. “I need to win a medal now. Adriana and Aiden made Sendak history during their fifth-grade year. Ava’s already made her mark. If I don’t do something before the end of the school year …” I stop. I’m out of breath just thinking about the catastrophe it would be if I don’t win something shiny and amazing before I graduate. “I have two months. That’s all.”
“Dang, girl” is all he can say. He takes a bite of his sandwich.
“My plan is to enter the contest with the subject being my great-gramps. He’s a war hero. People can’t reject a tribute to an American hero, right?” I look to Grace for confirmation.
“That would be unpatriotic,” Grace says.
“The thing is … poetry isn’t my strong point.”
“Mine either,” says Victor. “English is my toughest subject.”
“And I’m not much of a singer-songwriter. Ava got all the talent for that. I may have to do the photo essay. Pictures are cool. I’ve got tons on my phone, but they’re mostly of my cat, Secret.”
Just then Hayley and Sara walk up to the table, across from Victor and me. “Hey, Allie,” Sara says. “I need to ask you about your bisabuelo.”
I have a bad feeling about this, but I smile anyway. “Sure, what’s up?”
“I want to write a song about him for the contest. Do you think he’d be okay with that?”
My heart sinks. “What?”
“Why don’t you write about your own bisabuelo?” Victor asks, finishing a last bite of the torta.
“Um, because he died when I was a baby. Thank you very much for bringing up a sad memory.” Sara narrows her eyes at him in a way I’ve never seen her do to anyone before. She’s being Hayley-fied.
“I’m sorry.” Victor puts his hands up in surrender. “I didn’t mean to make you upset.” I feel bad for him. There’s no reason for Sara to be rude, and I’m just about to say that when Hayley butts in.
“Is there a problem with her talking to your great-gramps?”
Yes. A gazillion problems. Sara should find her own inspiring family member to write a song about. Plus, I need this win more than she does. It’s almost April. The clock is ticking for me to make my mark once and for all. Bisabuelo is my ticket to winning this contest. That’s it. She can’t write a song about my great-gramps.
I say it out loud. “Yes, there is a problem. I’m planning on doing something about him for the contest.”
Sara’s shoulders drop. Hayley til
ts her head and crosses her arms across her chest. “Something? You don’t even know what you’re going to do. Plus, there’s no rule saying you both can’t choose the same person, so stop hating.”
Hayley is such a snotty-pants. She’s been that way since she started wearing pink lip gloss. Someone should really check the ingredients for that lip gloss because it’s having some serious side effects.
“Fine.” I shrug. “Ask him yourself, Sara, and see what he says, but you know my bisabuelo doesn’t like it when people make a big fuss about him.”
“Yes, I know. Thanks,” Sara says, and leaves with Hayley.
“What’s their problem?” Victor asks.
“Sara used to be my best friend.”
“She used to be your best friend and now she wants to use your great-gramps for her contest project? Sorry, that’s just coldhearted.”
I shake my head. “I don’t know what to do.”
On her way to winning the fancy Pulitzer Prize, did Gwendolyn Brooks ever have to put up with an ex–best friend stealing her subject matter? And did she find the right words to rhyme with betrayal? Traitor? Frenemy?
“I know what you’re going to do,” says Victor. He nudges me with his elbow. “You’re going to win.”
Once the school bell rings, all I want to do is go home and scream into my pillow, but I wait for Adriana to pick me up. Being in the same classroom all day with snooty Hayley and the traitor Sara really got me worked up. How dare she want to use my bisabuelo for the contest! I just know that Hayley put her up to it. Sara would never do that purposely to hurt me. Would she? She knows how important Great-Gramps is to me. She also knows how important it is to me to win a trophy for the family trophy shelf.
My head hurts like a grizzly is pressing it between its massive paws. I walk, head pounding the entire way, to the front of school, where Adriana picks Ava and me up. When I get into the car, Aiden is in the passenger seat bouncing a soccer ball on his knees, which doesn’t help my headache. Ava and I take our seats in the back. She starts texting, which is fine with me because I don’t want to hear about any fourth-grade drama. Today, I’ve got fifth-grade drama.
Allie, First at Last Page 4