Dear Dumb Diary Year Two #1: School. Hasn't This Gone on Long Enough?
Page 6
I told Angeline that I had never heard of a
janitor getting hit in the eye with a golf ball, and
closed the door firmly behind her. She may have
still been talking when I did.
Sunday 29
Dear Dumb Diary,
I left messages three times yesterday for
Isabella to call me back. She never did. She just
showed up this morning.
“I have you all figured out,” I told her as she
walked in.
“You do, huh?” she asked. “Is your dad home?”
I ignored her and went on. “Thanks,” I said
unthankfully, “for giving Angeline all the words
for the Vocabulary Bee. What was the deal with
‘marplot’? And by the way,Angeline told me
about the glasses.”
“Relax,” she said. “Your math grade went up.
All that stuff I did, with summer school, and Angeline,
and Emmily — you should be thanking me.”
Wait a second.
It was suddenly clear.
Isabella faked the whole summer-school
thing. My parents weren’t looking into summer
school. She made up those emails about Emmily
getting good grades. It was all just to motivate me
to work harder.
Isabella did all of this just to help me
improve my grades. She did all of this just so
I could feel good about myself. Can
you imagine her working that hard just so I could
feel better??
She really does have a heart of gold.
“So, Mr. Kelly,” Isabella said as my dad
walked into the room. “About our deal . . .”
My dad nodded, pulled out his wallet, and
handed Isabella a ten-dollar bill.
WAT?
“What deal?” I asked.
“Isabella and I made a deal,” he said. “If she
could get you to pull up your math grade, I’d pay her
ten dollars. She has a lot of influence over you,
Jamie. Sometimes I think she has more influence
over you than I do. She may have more influence over
you than you do. So I figured that would work
better than me paying you for the grade. And it did.”
Dad gave Isabella a big thumbs-up and left
the room.
I plopped down hard on the couch. I felt just
like that guy in that movie when he discovered that
the thing about the stuff wasn’t what everybody
thought.
“But why did you try to sabotage me in the
Vocabulary Bee?” I asked Isabella.
Isabella grinned, and something resembling
pride flashed across her face.
“Because you rock at language arts. There
was no way I could ever hope to get your grade up in
language arts. Unless —”
Isabella took a long, deep inhale along the
edge of the ten-dollar bill.
“Unless what?” I said.
“Unless I pushed it down first. I hoped I
could hammer your grade down this marking period,
knowing you would pull it back up all by yourself
next quarter once you thought that Angeline was
better than you. Then I could cash in on your dad
again. I was just thinking ahead a little bit, Jamie.
You can’t be mad at me for that.”
“So, you did all of this for ten dollars? You
didn’t do it just to help me?” I asked her. I was sure
she could tell I felt hurt.
“OF COURSE NOT,” she said, waving her
arms around. “I was hoping for twenty dollars. You
know, if the language arts thing had worked out.”
“But, Isabella, I’m your best friend,” I
choked.
She nodded. “My bestest bestest best friend,
Jamie. And that’s why if something I’m doing for
myself benefits you in some way, I’m totally okay
with that. I got my money. You got your grade. See?
Best friends.”
That actually was pretty nice for Isabella, I
guess. And, after all, she did help me.
“What did you want the money for, anyway?”
I asked her.
“A purse like yours,” she said. “But ten
bucks still isn’t enough money. I’ll need three
times this much.”
“Were you lying about the pool, too?” I
asked her.
“I was pretty surprised you believed that
one,” she said with a laugh.
“You can have my purse,” I said. “For fifteen
bucks.”
“Five,” she said.
“Forget it,” I said. “I’ll keep it.”
“Okay, ten,” she said. “But hurry up, my
mom’s waiting in the car.”
Seriously. She had her mom waiting while
she came to conduct her business meeting with
my dad.
I pulled my stuff out of my purse, and she
grabbed it and headed out the door, smiling
broadly. I have to admit, Isabella is pretty smart.
But then again, at the end of the day, I’m the
one with the good grades and ten bucks, and she’s
the one with a purse that smells like the meat
loaf I’ve been putting in it for three weeks.
Maybe I’m a little smarter than I thought.
Thanks for listening, Dumb Diary.
Vocabuliciously,
Are You Vocabulicious?
1.) plethora
a. a very small amount
b. like a shmethora, but different
c. a toxic ingredient in meat loaf
d. a large quantity
2.) mattoid
a. a person who is only almost insane
b. something shaped like a mattress
c. an android named Matt
d. a reliable person
3.) marplot
a. a dull-witted, bad-tempered rodent of
Australia that hunts koalas
b. a person that ruins somebody’s plans
c. a plethora of marps
d. a burglar
4.) zeppelin
a. a huge, fat, gross blimp
b. when your zeppel isn’t out
c. a type of helicopter
d. a word invented to make babies laugh
5.) smatchet
a. a small hatchet
b. a type of purse
c. a nasty person
d. a shoe made of ham
6.) abode
a. house
b. an office building
c. what a person with a cold gives their dog
d. also a shoe made of ham
7.) prat
a. a genius
b. an adorably small fart
c. a brat that likes to mispronounce words
d. a stupid person
8.) swindle
a. to cheat somebody
b. to purchase something
c. a fish
d. to wear French underpants
9.) incarcerated
a. to catch on fire
b. to be put in jail
c. to be put inside a car
d. to be forced to wear ham shoes
TURn THE PAGE FOR A SPECiAL
SnEAK PEEK OF JAMiE KELLY’S next
TOP SECRET DiARY. . . .
Whatever you do, don’t look for my new diary,
DEAR DUMB Diary Year Two #2:
THE SUPER-NICE ARE SUPER-ANNOYING!
I mean it! I’m older, I’m wiser — and I’m onto you.
www.scholastic.c
om/deardumbdiary
scholastic.com
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About Jim Benton
Jim Benton is not a middle-school girl, but do
not hold that against him. He has managed to
make a living out of being funny, anyway.
He is the creator of many licensed properties,
some for big kids, some for little kids, and some
for grown-ups who, frankly, are probably behaving
like little kids.
You may already know his properties: It’s
Happy Bunny™ or Just Jimmy™, and of course
you already know about Dear Dumb Diary.
He’s created a kids’ TV series, designed
clothing, and written books.
Jim Benton lives in Michigan with his spectac-
ular wife and kids. They do not have a dog, and
they especially do not have a vengeful beagle.
This is his first series for Scholastic.
Jamie Kelly has no idea that Jim Benton, or
you, or anybody is reading her diaries. So, please,
please, please don’t tell her.
www.scholastic.com/deardumbdiary