by Sarah Kapit
“Hey,” a voice came from behind her.
She swung around to face a dark-haired boy with thick glasses. She had seen him before, probably, but she could not quite place him. Remembering faces could be hard for Caroline. Hopefully, he would not be terribly offended by her failure to recognize him.
Her tablet was still around her neck, but since she didn’t much care for talking and walking at the same time, she just nodded.
“Pretty boring class, right?”
Caroline nodded again. She was a little surprised that the boy kept talking to her. In Caroline’s considerable experience, most people had little interest in continuing a conversation with someone who didn’t talk back right away. Clearly, this boy was not most people.
“Um . . . I hope it’s not rude or whatever to say this, but are you okay?”
After the morning’s events, Caroline felt very not-okay. Weirdly enough, this boy asking her about it made her feel a tiny bit more okay.
“It’s cool if you don’t want to talk right now. If you actually hate talking to me, you can totally leave. I don’t want to bore you to death when you’re already having a bad day.”
Caroline continued to match her stride to the boy’s quick steps. Upon taking another look at him, she realized why he was so familiar. It was Micah, the boy from art class. Without a pencil in his hand, it had been difficult to recognize him at first.
“Oh, so you like talking to me?” Micah said. “Cool. So I just wanted to tell you that I thought the zebra was awesome. And Marissa is totally the worst. After that she deserves a little payback, if you ask me.”
The idea of payback felt ominous to Caroline. But she had to admit that there was definitely some appeal.
“You’re not the only one, you know. Marissa and her friends went to the same elementary school as me last year. They probably made half the fifth-grade class cry at one point. Including, well, me.”
Caroline gave Micah what she could only hope was a sympathetic smile. She wondered what Marissa could have done to make him cry, but it didn’t seem polite to ask.
“This is, um, kind of embarrassing to admit, but she told everyone that I peed my pants. I didn’t! Everyone called me Micah Pee from then on—you know, because my last name is Perkowski. Anyway. I just wanted to tell you that you’re not alone. I’ll stop talking if you want now.”
Biting her lip, Caroline tried to figure out how to tell the boy that yes, he could keep on talking to her. She settled on shaking her head, giving him a big smile.
“Really? You don’t mind me going on like this? Wow. I think you might be the only one.”
Grinning widely, Micah patted her on the back. Caroline didn’t much like being touched, but she appreciated the effort.
“I’m going to lunch. You want to sit together?”
Never before had Caroline nodded quite so quickly.
* * *
* * *
LOCATION: Language arts class, fourth period
EVENT: Nothing, nothing, and more nothing. At least as far as I know.
QUESTION FOR FURTHER INVESTIGATION: How is C. doing?
Lara tried not to worry about how Caroline’s day was going. After all, there were plenty of other things to worry about: her gym teacher’s promise that they’d be running the mile by the end of the week. The fact that her creative writing teacher spent twenty minutes talking about her high expectations. The early beginnings of a headache bubbling just behind her temples.
Still, as she went about her own first day, she couldn’t help but wonder what Caroline was doing just a few hallways over.
Surely nothing too bad could have happened. If it did, Lara would know.
Except that she didn’t.
The very worst happened in fourth period, just after lunch. In the middle of an admittedly dull getting-to-know-you exercise, Lara’s language arts teacher came over to her table. “The principal wants to speak with you,” the teacher told Lara.
Lara gulped. Her first thought was that she could not possibly be in trouble after half a day of school. Surely.
Her second thought was that something must have happened to Caroline.
Lara ran to Principal Jenkins’s office with far more speed than her usual gym-class jog. By the time she arrived at the office, she was panting.
Caroline was there, looking perfectly miserable as she stared at her tablet screen.
“Hi,” she said to Lara.
“What happened?” Lara said. There was no time for hellos.
It became immediately clear that Caroline did not want to answer the question. Principal Jenkins sighed. “Maybe you’d better sit down.”
Lara sat.
“I’m sorry I didn’t call you girls in earlier,” the principal began. “I was in meetings all morning and only just found out about this.”
“Can you just tell me what happened?” Lara blurted out.
“I’m getting to that.”
Principal Jenkins kept her voice level as she explained what had happened. Lara’s nerves made it difficult to catch every detail, but what she did hear was more than enough to send her into an epic rage. Apparently, some girl had destroyed Caroline’s sculpture. Lara would have liked to go charging into every sixth-grade classroom in the school. She wanted to find this girl and give her a proper scolding. But that didn’t seem like a very practical idea, at least not right now. It was definitely something for future consideration, though.
“Is she being punished?” Lara demanded once the talking appeared to be done.
The principal frowned. “Yes. But that’s not your concern. I did not invite you here to discuss another student’s discipline. I wanted you to help your sister.”
Right. That probably was the most important thing right now. Lara turned to Caroline. “Are you okay? Do we need to call Dad and Ima?”
“No,” Caroline said. It was the first word she’d said throughout the whole thing. “I’m okay. I just want to go back to class.”
Biting her lip, Lara looked over at her sister. She knew—she just knew—when Caroline was or was not okay. And she was pretty sure that Caroline was not okay.
Principal Jenkins sighed. Then she nodded. “If that’s what you want, then I will respect that. Although I should let you know that I have left a message on your father’s voicemail explaining the situation.”
Lara almost snorted. She wanted to say that there was no chance at all that Dad would listen to the message within the next two months. But Caroline elbowed her, and Lara knew that was her cue to keep quiet.
“I am sorry this happened on your first day,” Principal Jenkins said. “This is not the kind of behavior we approve of at Pinecone Arts Academy.”
Caroline squirmed in her seat. “Can I go now?”
Another loud-enough-to-hear sigh came from Principal Jenkins. “Yes, you may go. You too,” she said, looking at Lara.
Lara leaped to her feet. But she still wasn’t fast enough to catch up with Caroline.
Scowling, she returned to language arts class. As everyone else began to make posters about their summer reading, Lara pulled out her detective notebook. She didn’t even try to be sneaky.
PROBLEM: Caroline doesn’t want to talk with me. For some reason.
CHAPTER ELEVEN:
SECRET MESSAGES
By the end of her first day, Caroline could only feel anger. The problem began with Marissa, though it did not end there. Perhaps it wasn’t 100 percent reasonable of her, but Caroline was mad at Lara and Principal Jenkins, too. Why did everyone think she needed help, that she couldn’t handle her own problems?
After all, she’d been dealing with Marissas her entire life. Maybe Marissa was worse than most, but even so. Caroline could handle it on her own, thank you very much.
As soon as Lara met her after school, Caroline issue
d a warning: “Don’t tell Dad what happened.”
Just as Caroline expected, her sister frowned. “He should know! Besides, Principal Jenkins left a message on his phone.”
Caroline gave Lara a look that hopefully communicated “will you stop being ridiculous please.” Only maybe she didn’t need the please part. “Dad is not going to check his messages. Don’t you think he has enough to deal with right now?”
Lara made a face, but Caroline could tell her argument had worked. Good.
“I still think Dad and Ima should know,” Lara said after a pause. “But if you really don’t want me to tell . . .”
Her voice trailed off—a decidedly unusual occurrence for Lara. Caroline took advantage of the opportunity and typed at top speed. “Promise me you won’t tell.”
Although her lips were still in pout position, Lara nodded. “I won’t tell. But you have to promise me something, too.”
“Okay.” Caroline didn’t like it, but she was hardly in a position to refuse.
“Promise me that you’ll let me know if Marissa tries anything again.”
Caroline tapped the “yes” button and ignored the twinge in her stomach. Because, of course, she had no intention of telling Lara anything about Marissa.
It felt strange. For so long Lara had been Caroline’s person. But things were different now, weren’t they? Caroline wanted to be her own person, not Lara’s sidekick.
Still, Caroline continued to feel not-quite-right as Dad picked them up from school and as they began their homework. Lara felt far away, even though she was just on the other side of the bedroom.
Just before dinner, Caroline’s phone pinged. She had a text from an unfamiliar number:
Hey
She frowned. Caroline didn’t usually get many text messages, except boring ones from her family. Benny had a habit of sharing GIFs of aardvarks drinking pop and whatnot. She tapped out a quick response to the mystery texter.
Who are you?
Moments later, an answer appeared.
Micah
Caroline smiled at the name and happy blue paint streaks took shape. Of course! She’d given her phone number to Micah during lunch. Twirling her hair, she thought about what to say back. It occurred to her that texting was similar to her speech app. She liked that.
Another text popped up while Caroline considered her options.
So what are you doing?
Not much. Homework.
How about you?
That sounded sufficiently friend-like, Caroline thought.
Same. Why do they assign homework on the first day?
I guess that’s just middle school.
Yeah.
The creak of a door forced Caroline’s attention away from her phone. She glanced up to see Dad shuffle in. Noting his messy curls and stained T-shirt, Caroline frowned.
“Hey,” Dad said.
She tried to push aside her worries and smile at him. “Hi. I’m texting with my new friend.”
Caroline pointed to her phone.
“That’s great, honey,” Dad said. But Caroline thought he didn’t sound properly enthusiastic.
“Yep,” Caroline replied.
Dad darted his eyes around the room, looking a little like Kugel did when he chased his laser toy. “You haven’t happened to see your mother’s brooch around here recently?”
“No,” Caroline replied immediately. The only place she’d seen one of Ima’s brooches was on Ima, and even that was quite rare. Her mother didn’t usually wear jewelry.
Her father sighed. “Well, keep an eye out for it, okay? Ima’s family brought it over from Turkey and it’s really important to her. Turquoise and silver, two or three inches wide.”
“Sure,” Caroline said, only half paying attention.
Caroline glanced back at her phone. While she’d been talking to Dad, Micah had typed out several additional messages.
So I’ve been thinking
What Marissa did to you wasn’t cool
At all
We should do something
Payback
For several minutes, Caroline just stared at her screen. She certainly couldn’t disagree about the uncoolness of Marissa’s actions. But the whole idea of payback just made her feel a little funny in her stomach.
What do you mean?
You’ll see.
It’s better to talk about that in person.
Ok. I’m excited to hear about it.
But as she stared at Micah’s words, Caroline felt no excitement whatsoever.
CHAPTER TWELVE:
THE UNEXPECTED ADVENTURE
Given the not-good-ness of Caroline’s first day at middle school, she was rather surprised to find that the next few days were very good indeed.
She certainly had not anticipated that she would enjoy lunch at Pinecone Arts Academy. Yet she did, and it was all thanks to Micah.
They had their usual table—in the corner, where it was less noisy. Caroline was pretty sure Micah had deliberately chosen the table after she mentioned how much she hated all the clanging and chatter in the cafeteria.
The food itself wasn’t anything special. Dad’s culinary creativity appeared to have abandoned him, and Caroline found herself eating quite a few roast beef sandwiches—extra cheese, no tomato. But that was okay. Lunch wasn’t about the food.
Caroline had gotten into the habit of holding her sandwich in one hand while she tapped on her phone with the other. She and Micah had a constant stream of text messages going, and lunchtime was their busiest time. Even though she’d told Micah, on numerous occasions, that he could speak out loud to her if he wanted, he said he liked the idea of texting better. Way cooler, he’d texted. Plus we have privacy. Nosy people can’t overhear us.
In truth Caroline did not have the slightest idea why anyone would want to listen in on their conversations about Micah’s comic project and her opinions on the best brand of colored pencils. But she liked the idea that Micah wanted to keep their conversations private.
A text from Micah lit up her phone.
I like your giraffe.
The compliment brought an immediate smile to her face. After the disaster with her zebra, Caroline had begun another sculpture in art class. Ms. Williamson praised it, filling Caroline with a warm glow despite her lingering fear that someone might destroy her work at any moment.
Thanks
Why haven’t you made another zebra?
Caroline bit her lip. She had not forgotten Micah’s promise that Marissa would pay for what she’d done. Now she had to nudge him away from the topic, and quickly.
Just didn’t want to. Maybe another time.
I have an idea.
And there it was. Caroline’s heartbeat quickened as she rapidly typed out a response.
About what?
Marissa.
We should pull a prank on her. I’m still working on the details, but I have an idea. Just wait till you hear it.
If it had been Lara who had proposed a revenge plot, Caroline would have had no problem telling her exactly what she thought about it. But Micah wasn’t Lara. He must have loads of other kids who wanted to be his friend, surely.
Several minutes passed while Caroline stared at her screen. She had to say something, she knew.
Frowning, Caroline settled on:
Are you sure?
Micah’s response was swift.
Yep. Don’t worry. We won’t do anything that really hurts her. My brothers and I play pranks on each other all the time.
Caroline chewed on her lip and considered her options. Ima sometimes gave her advice on talking to people. One of Ima’s best tips was, If someone is talking about something you don’t want to discuss, just change the subject
. It was one of her favorite ways to handle Lara when she got particularly annoying. Maybe it could work with Micah, too.
How many brothers do you have?
Two. I’m the youngest.
Caroline smiled at the response and quickly composed her own.
I’m second-youngest. Two brothers and a sister.
So you get all of the youngest child problems.
When they say “you’ll understand when you’re older,” isn’t that the WORST? And they keep saying it, even when we get older too!
Definitely! Noah always says that. And my sister is really, really bossy. She thinks being a year older means she gets to be in charge of everything.
Caroline felt a little bad about calling Lara bossy behind her back, but it was true. Besides, she had steered Micah away from the subject of Marissa. That was a success of sorts.
Yeah, that sounds like my brothers. Plus, they use me as the guinea pig for their pranks. So I learned to fight back.
No, no, no. That was not the way Caroline wanted this conversation to go. She searched for a good reply—something that would make Micah forget all about pranks and revenge and other dangerous subjects. But she was too late. Micah continued typing.
That’s how I learned to do pranks. So don’t worry, I’m totally an expert.
We can do something to Marissa. She deserves it.
It’s fun. You’ll see.
Clenching her arms around her chest, Caroline racked her brain for an objection. Something that didn’t sound even a little bit cowardly. Maybe she could . . .
But before Caroline decided on a course of action, something hard hit the back of her head. By reflex, she jumped to her feet and let out a yelp. Her entire body vibrated, and Caroline needed to use all of her energy to keep herself from screaming. No matter how very much she wanted to scream, she couldn’t. Not in front of the entire sixth grade, with Micah sitting right there.