Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Acknowledgements
DIAL BOOKS FOR YOUNG READERS
A division of Penguin Young Readers Group
Published by The Penguin Group • Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, NY 10014, U.S.A. • Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario, Canada M4P 2Y3 (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.) • Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England • Penguin Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd) • Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty Ltd) • Penguin Books India Pvt Ltd, 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi - 110 017, India • Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, North Shore 0632, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd) • Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty) Ltd, 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa • Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
Text copyright © 2009 by Lauren Tarshis
Illustrations copyright © 2009 by Kristin Smith
.S.A.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Tarshis, Lauren.
Emma-Jean Lazarus fell in love / Lauren Tarshis.
p. cm.
Summary: Seventh grader Emma-Jean Lazarus uses her logical, scientific
mind to navigate the mysteries of the upcoming Spring Fling, her friend
Colleen’s secret admirer, and other love-related dilemmas.
eISBN : 978-1-101-04649-4
[1. Interpersonal relations—Fiction. 2. Problem-solving—Fiction.
3. Middle schools—Fiction. 4. Schools—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.T211115El 2009
[Fic]—dc22
2008046260
http://us.penguingroup.com
For Dionisia Severino
Chapter 1
Emma-Jean Lazarus knew very well that the seventh-grade boys at William Gladstone Middle School behaved like animals at times. They threw fruit in the cafeteria and stampeded through the hallways. They chased balls on the blacktop and laughed in a howling manner when Mr. Petrowski discussed a certain part of the digestive system in science.
But none of this particularly troubled Emma-Jean. She had been observing her fellow seventh graders for many years, trying to understand them better. And she had long ago concluded that it was simply the boys’ nature to be rambunctious on occasion. She also had a compelling theory about this, which she was pleased to share with her four new friends one afternoon as they sat together in the cafeteria.
It was a bright Monday in May, and Emma-Jean had been quietly sipping her tomato soup and listening as the girls engaged in their usual lively lunchtime chatter. Already they had covered an impressive range of topics, from the wart on Kaitlin’s finger to the Spring Fling, an upcoming formal dance sponsored by the PTA, for which the girls were expected to invite the boys.
After weeks of heated discussion and debate, the girls had determined that they would not attend the dance. As a festive alternative, Colleen had proposed a sleepover party, where she would serve chocolate fondue. She supplied daily updates on the status of her preparations, including today’s announcement that her mother had successfully purchased a fondue pot at a tag sale.
“I just wish you would come, Emma-Jean,” Colleen said, holding out a container of neatly trimmed carrot sticks to share.
“It is not possible,” Emma-Jean said.
“Why not?” Valerie asked.
“My bird becomes agitated when I am not with him overnight,” Emma-Jean explained, thinking fondly of Henri, her beloved parakeet, whose roomy and immaculate cage was just a few feet from her bed.
“Oh, that’s so sweet,” Colleen said. “Piggy was the same way.”
Kaitlin, Valerie, and Michele nodded solemnly at the mention of Colleen’s beloved hamster, whose untimely death five years before still haunted Colleen. But the moment of remembrance was interrupted by an eruption of hoots and bellows from the nearby boys’ table. Will Keeler and his friends were engaged in a boisterous game of table hockey, in which they were using plastic knives as sticks and a chicken nugget as a puck. Apparently Brandon Mahoney had scored a point, which was now in dispute.
The girls looked on with bemusement, clucking their tongues and rolling their eyes like mothers watching their toddlers squabble over a toy truck.
“When will they grow up?” said Valerie with an indulgent sigh.
“They’re really immature,” Colleen said.
“Why are they so out of control?” Kaitlin asked, peering thoughtfully into a bag of popcorn as though an answer might be etched on one of the buttery kernels.
Emma-Jean didn’t usually contribute to these lunchtime conversations, but now she felt she could offer some enlightening insights.
“They are trying to call attention to themselves,” Emma-Jean said.
The girls looked at her with great interest.
“What do you mean?” Michele said.
“Adolescent males engage in conspicuous displays to attract the attention of females,” Emma-Jean continued.
“Like when lizards puff out their necks?” Valerie said. “I saw that on Nature.”
“Or when roosters strut around?” Kaitlin added, rotating her shoulders and turning her neck in a rooster-like fashion.
“They’re doing this for us?” Colleen said with disbelief.
“Precisely,” Emma-Jean said.
“Wow,” Michele said. “I never knew that.”
“You’re so smart, Emma-Jean,” Colleen said.
Emma-Jean nodded, pleased to share her knowledge with her new friends, and to see the appreciative smiles they offered her in return.
It had only been eleven weeks since a series of most unexpected events had propelled Emma-Jean into the midst of these fine girls. Never before had Emma-Jean experienced friendship with people of her own age, and the girls had overwhelmed her at first—their flowery and fruity smells, their bright and sparkling clothing, their shrieks and giggles, their shoulders and elbows bumping against her as she walked through the hallways.
But with each passing week, Emma-Jean was more at ease. Like the moons of Jupiter, Colleen Pomerantz, Kaitlin Vogel, Valerie Rosen, and Michele Peters moved together in harmony through the chaotic universe of William Gladstone Middle School. And if Emma-Jean did not share their exact orbit, she was very pleased nonetheless to sit with them at their lunch table.
The period was winding down, and the girls took their last sips of chocolate milk and brushed crumbs from their laps. Emma-Jean tightened the lid of her thermos and was about to stand up when Valerie leaned forward, her amber-colored eyes shining portentously.
“Okay, now I have to tell you all . . . something . . . about Jeremy. Don’t get mad!”
Jeremy Alvarez was a boy with whom Valerie had gone to drama camp
during the summer. Last month, for Valerie’s birthday, he’d sent her a silver bracelet adorned with a large heart-shaped charm. The bracelet had been passed around the lunch table with reverent gazes and delicate fingers, as though it were the egg of an endangered bird.
“I asked him to the Spring Fling,” Valerie blurted out.
“Oh my gosh!” Colleen gasped.
Nobody spoke for a moment, and the lunchtime din of shouts and scraping chairs and clattering trays seemed very far away.
“Well,” Kaitlin said, her blond, frizzy curls quivering with excitement, “maybe I’ll ask Neil. He always tries to be my partner in science.”
“And I could ask Leo,” Michele said tentatively, eyeing Leo Daniels, who sat with his friends from the school jazz ensemble. As usual, their trays of food remained untouched as they drummed their fingers on the table and tapped their sneakers percussively against the tile floor.
The girls regarded one another gravely, like explorers about to trek through uncharted and possibly dangerous territory.
Emma-Jean was leaning forward in a state of such riveted attention that she nearly slipped off the edge of her chair.
“What about you, Coll?” Kaitlin said abruptly. “We can still do the sleepover. And who are you going to ask? There are so many boys who would die to go with you!”
All eyes settled on Colleen, who wore an alarmed expression.
“Oh . . . well . . .” Colleen stammered, blinking her eyes very rapidly. “I guess . . . but . . . only if Emma-Jean goes.”
“Will you go, Emma-Jean?” Valerie asked.
“You should!” Michele said.
“Who would you ask?” Kaitlin said.
Emma-Jean’s gaze was pulled, as if by magnetic force, to Will Keeler. Just then Will smiled broadly at his band of admiring friends. He had stuffed an entire orange section into his mouth, peel intact, which gave him the appearance of an ape with bright orange teeth.
The girls had followed Emma-Jean’s gaze and were now looking at her in wide-eyed amazement.
“You want to go to the Spring Fling with Will Keeler?” Valerie whispered.
Emma-Jean considered the question. She disliked dances, but the idea of standing close to Will Keeler for any length of time was appealing. Despite his untidy appearance, he had a pleasing smell, like pine needles and pennies. And she knew from personal experience that Will was an honorable person.
“Perhaps,” she said.
“Oh gosh, Emma-Jean,” Colleen said, her hands fluttering over her heart. “You and Will?”
“Oh no,” Michele said.
“He’s not right for you,” Valerie said.
“And what about Laura!” Kaitlin said in a fearful whisper.
The girls looked cautiously across the cafeteria at Laura Gilroy, who was standing in line at the vending machine tapping her foot, her small eyes fluttering with impatience. The girls watched Laura with a mixture of awe and fear, as one might regard a beautiful but venomous snake.
“Laura has not asked Will to the dance,” Emma-Jean said.
“But she’s going to!” Valerie said.
“Any second,” Kaitlin said.
“She’s totally in love with him,” Valerie said.
“They’re together,” Kaitlin said. “Everyone knows that.”
Emma-Jean had a different perspective on this subject. But before she could share it, a chicken nugget came soaring through the air. It bounced off Valerie’s head before landing squarely on the front of Kaitlin’s sweater. Laughter roared from the boys’ table, where Brandon Mahoney could be seen wielding a plastic spoon like a baseball bat. Emma-Jean’s friends began to simultaneously shriek and giggle at such ear-splitting decibels that nobody heard the bell ring, and Mr. Petrowski had to shoo them from the cafeteria.
Walking through the crowded halls, Emma-Jean thought about asking Will Keeler to the Spring Fling. The idea caused her heart to flutter like the wings of the hummingbird. The sensation was unsettling, but not entirely unpleasant.
Chapter 2
Colleen sat in last period science class, and she was trying really, really, really, really hard to concentrate on what Mr. Petrowski was saying about the esophagus. But she kept thinking of Noah’s Ark—about all the pigs and pandas and gorillas and ladybugs and how they’d all marched two by two, two by two, two by two onto the ark. Except for the unicorn, who couldn’t find a boy who liked her, so she was left behind. To drown in the flood.
Colleen was the unicorn.
All her friends had boys they liked, and they were marching with them two by two, two by two, two by two toward the Spring Fling. Except for Colleen, who had no boy, and would be left behind to drown.
In chocolate fondue.
Colleen sighed. She looked around the room at the boys and she felt like crying. Why didn’t any of them like her? Colleen was never pushy or mean. She didn’t smell bad (she hoped not . . . she breathed into her hands and sniffed . . . no, just bubble gum). Okay, so she wasn’t cute like Kaitlin or funny like Valerie or talented like Michele or brilliant like Emma-Jean. But when Colleen looked in the mirror, she didn’t only see braces and freckles and hair that needed way more body. She saw a face that seemed friendly and nice and ready to hear your biggest secret she would never, ever tell.
Why didn’t people see that? Her friends saw it, she was pretty sure. But why not the boys?
Probably because they never looked at Colleen.
And oh gosh! What about Emma-Jean? What if she really asked Will Keeler to the Spring Fling? It would be Colleen’s fault, for putting Emma-Jean on the spot at lunch. Emma-Jean didn’t even like dances. But now because of Colleen, Emma-Jean might actually ask Will Keeler. And what would Will say? Probably he’d laugh and say, “I would NEVER go to a dance with YOU!”
Or maybe Will wouldn’t say exactly that because he wasn’t mean like some people. But still, Colleen would have to explain to Emma-Jean—in the nicest possible way—that a cute basketball boy like Will with a million friends would never go to a dance with a . . . different kind of girl like Emma-Jean. Colleen hoped Emma-Jean would understand. Emma-Jean was a total genius, but some things she just didn’t get.
Colleen thought about Emma-Jean now, the amazing way she didn’t worry about what people thought of her, how she didn’t notice that Brandon Mahoney made a robot face whenever she walked by, how she knew almost nothing about boys or clothes or makeup, but everything about birds and flowers.
Colleen scrunched down in her chair and looked out the classroom window. A bird was singing. She listened harder, the way Emma-Jean might listen. It was such a pretty sound, like the sweet little song inside Colleen’s ballerina jewelry box. Colleen listened more closely, until the bird seemed to be singing just for her, until she felt herself being lifted out of her chair and carried out the window, and suddenly it was like she was high up in a tree with the bird. And from way up there, the world around her looked huge, and her school looked so small, and she got this idea—a whispery, feathery idea—that one day she wouldn’t be in middle school, and maybe then she wouldn’t be so worried every single minute.
And she remembered that she was really lucky. It was true. She was the luckiest girl in Connecticut, or at least in the top 100. She had her incredible mom who made sure the house was totally organized and that Colleen was never late for anything. She had her amazing friends. She was getting her braces off in fourteen months. And she had just been made head of the snack committee for the St. Mary’s Church youth group, which meant that she was in charge of planning Father William’s birthday party, which was just three days away. Her mom had even promised to help Colleen make the cupcakes with marshmallow frosting they’d seen on their favorite cooking show. How lucky was that?
The bell rang, and Colleen floated back to her seat. She picked up her backpack, which seemed as light as a cloud. She carried her lucky bird feeling with her through the hallways, smiling at everyone she saw, even if they didn’t seem to see her.
She went to her locker and opened it on the first try. On the inside of the door there was the acrostic poem Valerie had written to her last month for her birthday. Colleen loved looking at it because it was so sweet and Valerie was such a talented poet.
C ool
O odles of fun
L ife of the party
L oves animals
E xtraordinarily
E xcellently
N ice!!!!!!
Colleen was about to close her locker when she noticed a folded piece of paper stuck in one of the vents. She pulled it out and unfolded it.
COLLEEN-
I THINK YOU’RE THE BEST GIRL IN THE
WHOLE GRADE.
I HOPE YOU WANT TO GO TO THE
SPRING FLING.
LOVE,
SOMEONE WHO THINKS YOU’RE SO GREAT
Colleen looked around. She held on to her locker because fainting was a definite possibility. Who could have written this? Could it be that a boy . . . liked her? Was this really happening?
Maybe that bird really had brought her luck!
But then she looked at the note again, and another idea hit her in the head like that time her math book fell out of her locker and she almost went into a coma.
Emma-Jean had written the note. She felt sorry for Colleen because no boy liked her, and she wanted to help. Like she’d tried to help back in February, when she by accident almost ruined Colleen’s life. Of course that didn’t matter now. They were friends. But didn’t Emma-Jean ever learn?
Colleen looked at the note again. The lucky feeling was gone. Her bird had flown away.
Chapter 3
A change had come over the seventh-grade wing, and Emma-Jean sensed it the moment she entered the school building the next morning. Like a flock of starlings swarming before a storm, Emma-Jean’s peers were suddenly abuzz with excitement over the Spring Fling.
Indeed, Emma-Jean had never seen her peers in a state of such emotional agitation, not even last month, when their custodian Mr. Johannsen revealed that his handsome fifteen-year-old grandson Carl had been cast in a role on a popular television series. Laura Gilroy’s reaction to that news had been particularly extreme; she had clutched her chest and gasped “Oh my God! Oh my God!” in a manner that caused Emma-Jean to rush to her side, prepared to administer CPR if necessary. To Emma-Jean’s relief, Laura had recovered quickly, as evidenced by the robust tone in which she shouted, “Will you back off?” into Emma-Jean’s ear.
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