“Really? That’s so nice! I knew we would find a way to work together. Everyone should really stop calling you a heinous she-devil,” Emma said. She glanced up and saw an annoyed look on Rosie’s face. “Aw, do you need some bran, too?” Emma asked sweetly.
Bertram was in the kitchen putting away groceries when Zuri arrived home from her second day of school. She walked into the kitchen a few minutes later, leading Mr. Kipling on a leash and holding her worksheets from her classes.
“Bertram, can I have the peanut butter?” Zuri asked sweetly.
“Okay, but don’t spoil your dinner,” Bertram replied, handing her a jar of crunchy peanut butter.
Zuri sniffed the air and scrunched up her nose. “Smells like your liver soufflé did that already.”
“I always enjoy our little chats,” Bertram said sarcastically. He shook his head and walked out of the room.
As soon as Bertram was gone, Zuri opened the peanut butter and smeared it all over her worksheets. Then she set them down in front of Mr. Kipling. He whipped out his tongue and pulled the first sheet into his mouth, crunching loudly as he ate the paper.
“Eat your math sandwich, Mr. Kipling!” Zuri cooed at him. She held up her vocabulary sheet. “And if you clean your plate, you can have some vocab sheets for dessert. I’m sure they will be ‘traumatic’ and ‘loquacious.’ Yum!”
Just then, Jessie walked in and stopped short when she saw what Zuri was doing.
“What’s Mr. Kipling eating?” Jessie demanded.
Zuri looked up and put her hands to her cheeks, pretending to be horrified. “Oh, no!” Zuri exclaimed. “The lizard ate my homework!”
“Well, that’ll be one the teacher hasn’t heard,” Jessie said. “Luckily, she e-mailed me your worksheets, but nice try.”
“Stupid Internet!” Zuri fumed. “I wish I was born in olden times, like you and Bertram!”
“What do I have to do to get you to do your homework? It’s not that much!” Jessie begged.
“Wrong. The teacher assigned us more today, so now it’s twice as much work,” Zuri said.
“At least we know you can do math,” Jessie muttered.
Luke and Ravi walked into the kitchen behind her. Ravi was covered head-to-toe in spitballs. He looked miserable.
“School stinks!” Zuri shouted. “Just ask Ravi!”
Jessie spun around, her eyes going wide in surprise as she saw Ravi. “Ravi, what happened to you?” Jessie put an arm around him and guided him toward the table.
“A spitball ambush,” Ravi replied.
Jessie immediately pulled her arm back and wiped it off.
“Well, looks like this needs your full, undivided attention,” Zuri said to Jessie. Then she turned to Ravi as she skipped off to watch TV. “Thank you for being you.”
Jessie sighed as she watched Zuri leave. “One thing at a time. Okay, who did this to you, Ravi?”
“The important thing is, it is not the fault of Luke,” Ravi said as he pulled spitballs from his shirt.
“Luke, what did you do?” Jessie demanded.
“It wasn’t me!” Luke protested. “Some kids at school have been giving Ravi a hard time because I may have sorta, kinda been seen with Kenny at school and then sorta, kinda let Ravi take the heat for it.”
“Luke!” Jessie exclaimed. “That is sorta, kinda despicable!”
“Well, it’s your fault!” he countered.
“How is that even remotely possible?!” Jessie asked defensively.
“You’re the one who put Kenny in my bag!” Luke replied.
“Okay…” Jessie said slowly, realizing that it actually was her fault. “That’s not so remote. But how could you just stand by and let Ravi get wallpapered?”
“Excuse me, but in defense of Luke—” Ravi said.
“Not now. I’ve got to get to the bottom of this,” Jessie interrupted. “Luke, you need to stand up for your brother.”
“I didn’t ask him to do this. He volunteered. He’s fine with it,” Luke protested.
“If I may interject—” Ravi spoke up.
“Clearly, he’s not fine,” Jessie said, interrupting Ravi again. “He’s covered in saliva and shame!”
“Is anyone concerned that if I do not shower soon I may harden into a giant papier-mâché garden gnome?” Ravi loudly moaned. Jessie and Luke just looked at him blankly. “So, just me?”
“Luke, I’m disappointed in you. I always thought the best part of having siblings must be having someone to stick up for you. Ravi did his part; now it’s your turn,” Jessie said sternly.
“But I can’t! You just don’t get it!” Luke shouted and ran up to his room.
Jessie sighed.
“Jessie, since you were an only child, who stuck up for you in school?” Ravi asked.
“My dad. He’d show up on campus, lob an old avocado at the cheerleaders, and yell ‘Fire in the hole!’” Jessie said, laughing diabolically at the memory. “You’ve never seen a pyramid topple so fast.”
“Sometimes you scare me,” Ravi said.
Jessie walked out of the room, still laughing. Ravi shook his head and then tried to stand up, but he couldn’t. The spitballs had dried and left him stuck to his seat.
“Guys!” Ravi yelled, pulling at his pants. “Oh, no! I’m stuck. Guys?!”
“And you thought your life would get easier once the kids were back in school,” Bertram said to Jessie as they shared a snack in the kitchen later that night.
Jessie rubbed her temples. She had a splitting headache, and she was exhausted. “I was wrong. Bigger problems, bigger bags under my eyes, but oddly enough, same salary,” she said ruefully.
Zuri tiptoed into the kitchen and headed for the pantry.
“Hold up, missy,” Jessie said. She pointed at a chair, and Zuri walked over and sat down. “Please, please, please tell me your homework’s done,” Jessie begged.
“Do you want the truth? Or do you just want to feel better?” Zuri asked.
Jessie slammed her head down on the table dramatically. Zuri patted her on the back. “Aw, Jessie, I hate to see you like this,” Zuri said. “I’ll have my snack on the terrace.” Then she swept out of the room, carrying Jessie’s bedtime snack with her.
Luke had never been so ashamed of himself. He felt really badly that everyone was picking on Ravi, but he knew that if he said anything, they’d pick on him instead. And he would feel even worse about that. He leaned his head against his locker and sighed.
“Hey, wittle Wavi!” Billy said loudly. “Wanna play some dodge-bear?”
Billy had cornered Ravi midway down the hall, and Ravi was cringing in fear. Billy pulled a small stuffed bear from his bag and chucked it at Ravi’s head. Then all of Billy’s friends did the same. There were bears flying everywhere. Ravi cowered, holding his arms up to protect his face.
“Only nine more months of this. Perhaps the librarian will let me eat lunch with her again this year,” Ravi muttered.
Luke watched in horror. He couldn’t let them tease Ravi like that anymore. He had to do something! He reached into his locker, grabbed Kenny, and climbed up on top of a nearby chair. He whistled loudly.
“Hey! Everyone! Listen up!” Luke yelled. He lifted Kenny up into the air. “Kenny is mine. He doesn’t belong to Ravi.”
The crowd gasped.
“Luke, you do not have to do this,” Ravi urged him.
Luke bent forward. “Yes, I do.” Then he stood back up and addressed the crowd. “Kenny’s been with me since I was a baby. He hangs out on my bed, and sometimes I bring him to the dentist when I’m nervous because I haven’t flossed.”
Some of the girls who were listening giggled and began whispering to one another.
“In fact, the only person who’s been a better friend to me than Kenny is Ravi. So quit making fun of my brother!”
The crowd was silent for a moment, and then the group of girls let out a loud “Awwwwww!”
“They think this is cute?” Billy said in di
sbelief.
Luke hopped down off of his chair and walked over to the waiting girls. He took one on each arm and let another hug Kenny on his way to class.
“Classic Luke,” Ravi said, shaking his head and following Luke down the hall. “With those freckles and that charisma, he makes it work.”
Emma was ready for her big art presentation. She’d stayed up late designing the perfect doll costume. She just hoped Rosie liked it as much as she did. She had on a blond beauty-queen wig teased high and was wearing a pink tutu, a tank top, a jacket, and hot-pink pumps.
Rosie was standing at their desk in front of a six-foot-high, three-sided pink box. The front was covered in a thick sheet of clear plastic.
“Rosie, does this look okay?” Emma asked, smoothing down her skirt.
“Perfect,” Rosie said appreciatively.
“Now can you please tell me what we’re doing?” Emma asked.
“Emma, I am the artist, you are the art,” Rosie explained patiently. “This will work best if you just keep your mind completely blank.”
“Sorry, what was that?” Emma asked. She had gotten distracted by Shelby’s embroidered headband. “I was thinking about headbands.”
“See? You’re a natural,” Rosie said. “Okay, showtime. Hop in the box.”
Emma shrugged, stepped into the box, and posed with a big smile. Rosie grabbed a roll of pink duct tape and taped the plastic to the side of the box, sealing Emma inside. Then Rosie revealed a sign on the front that read “Ditsy Doll.” Emma couldn’t see it.
Rosie pulled a string on the side of the box, and Emma’s voice came from a small speaker on the side. Her voice sounded odd and stilted, obviously having been edited together from Rosie’s recordings.
“Women are objects, not people,” the recording said.
“What was that?” Emma asked from inside the box. She could barely hear anything.
“It’s just part of the project,” Rosie said loudly. “Just move your mouth up and down when I pull the cord.”
“Like this?” Emma asked, opening and closing her mouth several times. As they finished setting up, Emma posed prettily, and the rest of the class and Ms. Devlin gathered around.
Rosie pulled the cord again, and Emma moved her mouth as directed.
“Who needs brains when you’re pretty?” the recording asked.
Everyone laughed.
“That is so true, Emma,” Shelby said, nodding sincerely.
Rosie pulled the cord again, but Emma wasn’t playing along anymore. She stepped forward and put her ear against the wall of the box, trying to hear what the recording said.
“What do we have here?” Ms. Devlin asked.
“We object to the fact that women are judged by the way they look rather than what’s in their heads,” Rosie explained, gesturing to Emma.
Their teacher raised her eyebrows and nodded. “Too true. I, for one, was judged harshly in the art world during an unfortunate sweatpants phase. Apparently, Picasso can have a Blue Period, but I can’t have an Elastic Waistband Period!” Ms. Devlin grumbled.
Rosie pulled the string again.
“It’s better to be beautiful than nice,” the recording said.
“Hey!” Emma shouted through the plastic. “That’s my voice, but I never said that!” She pushed at the plastic, trying to escape the box.
“Emma looks a bit upset,” Ms. Devlin said to Rosie pointedly.
“I want out!” Emma yelled.
“‘Out’ of this role she’s been forced to play,” Rosie scrambled to cover to their teacher. “But the, uh, duct tape of society won’t let her!”
Emma stepped back and ran at the side of the box. She slammed through the plastic, knocking her wig off and nearly falling on her face. The entire class laughed as she struggled to stand back up on her heels. She turned bright red with embarrassment and ran out of the room.
“Rosie,” Ms. Devlin said sternly. “Since you’re a Ross Foundation Scholarship student—you know that the Rosses are her parents—so you should probably go after her.”
Rosie hung her head and walked out, following Emma.
Jessie had a plan. She was not letting Zuri go another day without completing her homework. She had no choice—if Zuri failed out of school, Jessie was pretty sure the Rosses would fire her. So she waited patiently by the elevator to snag Zuri as soon as she stepped off of it.
Finally, with a loud ding, the elevator doors opened. Zuri was standing inside, but as soon as she saw Jessie waiting, she lunged for the buttons, frantically pushing the “door close” button.
“Close, close, close, close, close!” Zuri muttered, but Jessie was too quick for her. Jessie stepped forward, picked Zuri up, and carried her, struggling, to her desk.
“Help, help! Nanny gone berserk!” Zuri wailed.
“Here’s the deal: neither one of us moves until you finish your homework,” Jessie said, plopping Zuri down in the desk chair.
“Works for me, but don’t you have tickets to see that new musical next month?” Zuri said tartly.
“One second,” Jessie said. She turned and walked calmly to the sofa, where she picked up a pillow. Then she turned and screamed into the pillow, jumping up and down in rage and frustration. That kid knew how to push all of her buttons. Then Jessie dropped the pillow and walked back to the desk. “Homework. Now.”
“Jessie, please don’t make me,” Zuri begged.
“Sweetie, I’m getting a feeling this is about more than just not wanting to do your homework. Why don’t you tell me what’s really bothering you?” Jessie asked, squatting down in front of Zuri.
“Well…third grade is a lot tougher than second,” Zuri said, fidgeting nervously. “What if I’m not smart enough to do the work?”
“Zuri, you’re the smartest little girl I know. Look, we’ll do it together, and every time you get a question right, you’ll get five extra minutes of TV time. How does that sound?” Jessie replied.
“I usually prefer my bribes in cash, but I can get behind TV time. Hillbilly Idol is on tonight,” Zuri said agreeably.
Ten minutes later, Zuri put down her pencil, smiling. “Done! That was so easy! Why did you make such a big deal out of it?”
Jessie’s mouth dropped open in disbelief. Zuri handed her a pillow. “Do you feel another scream coming on?”
Just then, the elevator opened and Emma stomped out, her costume askew and her face still flushed in embarrassment. She looked like a very angry Barbie doll.
“Emma, what’s the matter?” Jessie asked, rushing over to her. “You look like Ken died.”
“Rosie humiliated me in front of the entire school!” Emma explained.
“Oh sweetie, I’m so sorry,” Jessie said, pulling Emma into a hug. “I remember one time, my best friend Darla embarrassed me at school. It was laundry day, and I was wearing my granny underpants—”
The ding of the elevator interrupted her.
“Saved by the bell!” Zuri exclaimed. None of the Ross kids wanted to hear another one of Jessie’s stories about life in Texas.
The elevator doors slid open, and Rosie walked into the penthouse looking sheepish.
“Emma—” Rosie said tentatively.
“I don’t want to talk to you!” Emma interrupted.
“Emma, is this the girl who was mean to you?” Zuri asked. Emma nodded, and Zuri turned to face Rosie. “Listen, you. There are two things I’m good at: eating cookies and kicking butt. And we’re all out of cookies!”
Zuri jumped at Rosie, but Jessie caught her midair and walked with her toward the screening room. “Okay, Tenacious Z and I will be watching TV in the screening room,” Jessie said. “Not eavesdropping…much.”
“This is not over!” Zuri shouted.
“I like her,” Rosie said. “She’s got spunk.”
Emma glared at her, her arms crossed. “Fine. What do you need to say to me?”
“Well, first of all, we got an A, and second, I want to apologize. I didn’t mean to
hurt your feelings,” Rosie said.
“Well, you did!” Emma snapped. “I am so taking back my friend request!”
“I was going to accept, really,” Rosie pleaded. “But my grandma won’t get off our computer! She keeps looking for a boyfriend on that dating site, I’ve-Fallen-in-Love-and-I-Can’t-Get-Up.”
“Why would you embarrass me like that?” Emma asked.
“I was trying to make a statement about people like you and Shelby,” Rosie said and sighed.
“I’m nothing like Shelby,” Emma said, her voice thick with anger. “My shirts say ‘Emma.’ And, unlike Shelby, I tried to be nice to you.”
Rosie looked down. “I know. I guess I just never thought someone like me could hurt someone like you. Your life is so…perfect.”
Emma snorted. “My life isn’t perfect. My nanny was just giving me a speech about her underpants.”
“Yeah, she’s weird,” Rosie agreed. “Okay, the truth is, I’m jealous, all right? You live here, and you look like that, and you’re so nice, I just want to…smack you all the time!” Rosie gestured around the penthouse and at Emma as she spoke. Emma could tell she was being sincere.
“Please don’t smack me. If you really want to smack someone, may I suggest Shelby?” Emma said, beginning to thaw a little. “I mean, she’s totally puke-ular.”
“Do you know what’s puke-ular? The word ‘puke-ular’,” Rosie said, giggling.
“I know, right?” Emma agreed. “And you know what? I think your fashion statements are cool.”
“Thanks!” Rosie said, blushing a little. “Do you maybe wanna borrow the skirt I made out of compost?”
“Uhhh…” Emma said, trying to figure out a nice way to say no. She was so not wearing a compost skirt. “That seems like it’s more for…spring.” She paused and then smiled. “Huh. We both love fashion and detest Shelby. Turns out, we have lots in common.”
Jessie stuck her head through the curtained doorway that separated the living room and screening room. “Told you so!” she said gleefully. Clearly, she and Zuri had been eavesdropping.
Jessie: New Nanny (Jessie Junior Novel Book 2) Page 4