Click Here (to find out how i survived seventh grade) (9 page)

I Am Web Designer, See Me Code

Of course, I didn’t tell the guy in the Intranet Club on Tues. what HTML really stands for: Hot Tamale Mark Love. I definitely have Hot Tamale Love for Mark Sacks. Rosie got me started on the hot tamale part. That’s what she calls good-looking boys. She doesn’t know about the Mark part.

I can’t stop thinking about him…keep telling myself he’s just my friend, he’s just my friend, but can’t seem to stop thinking, I wish he was my boyfriend, I wish he was my boyfriend.

Ok, Erin, QUIT IT.

Went over to Jilly’s to do homework after school. She was playing fashion model while I was doing math cuz she couldn’t decide what to wear. I’m like, why in the world are you asking me? You’re the fashion queen. She said she was desperate, which made us both laugh.

I guess she’s got this girl in 2 of her classes who is Miss Popular…the usual instant hate girl—blond, some boobage, etc….but this 1 is also smart, Jilly says, which really has her freaked out.

I told Jilly she was smart, which was kind of true. Jilly is smart, but she does just enough to get by, so her grades don’t really show how smart she is.

Anyway, she finally got her oldest sister, Becca, in the room. Becca is the Fashion Empress to Jilly’s Fashion Queen…Tried to concentrate on my homework but I couldn’t. Jilly freaking out was freaking me out.

Had to go home early…just couldn’t watch anymore.

chapter 8

CORN-ered

Intranet Club was the BEST. My group hung on every word I said and learned HTML really fast. We were already putting some pages together because it turned out I knew the most about web design. Even more than the eighth graders. Our group was in charge of the “School Life” section, which included stuff like faculty interviews, awards, and a page called “A Day in the Life” where we profiled a few kids, then typed up a journal, which everyone would get to read once the Intranet was live online.

The only boring thing we had to do was list the courses and descriptions offered at MBMS, as well as the schedules for each track. But that only had to be done once, which was nice.

It also turned out that I was a pretty good leader when I knew what I was talking about. A couple of the eighth graders even asked me questions. And Tyler, formerly known as the Boy Who Wouldn’t Take Instruction From Big Foot, was really into it and seemed to have forgotten all about thinking I was a dork. He asked me all kinds of questions and told me how smart I was.

“It’s only because my mom’s a web designer,” I said modestly. “Nah,” Tyler said. “Even if both my parents were web designers, I wouldn’t know the stuff you do.”

I just smiled and showed him how to change the font size in his heading.

Mark’s group was in charge of school events — arts and music, sports, and such. Not only did they list the events but they had reviewers and sportswriters covering each one. They had set it up like a newspaper, with digital photos and everything. Very cool.

“I can’t log on. Why can’t I log on?” Rosie sat at her computer, tapping angrily at the keyboard. “I have to get the letters to the editor ready by the end of the week.” Rosie was in a group with an eighth-grade team leader, and they were in charge of all correspondence we received. This could be letters to the editor, letters for the weekly “Tell Us About It” column, or webmaster comments or complaints. Since we weren’t going live until just before Thanksgiving, we asked a few kids to write in with questions or comments, and Rosie would include these in her first “Tell Us About It” column. Once we were live and the whole school had access to the Intranet, any student could send in a question or comment.

“We need a different name,” I said during our break. Mark, Rosie, Tyler, and I were heading for the gym to shoot baskets. “‘Intranet Club’ is boring.”

“Yeah,” said Mark. “What about Web Club? We could be the Webbies.”

“The Webbies?” Rosie, Tyler, and I said it at the same time, raising our eyebrows at him.

“Okay, so that was stupid,” Mark said, laughing.

“What about the I-Club?” I said. “The letter I.”

“The I-Club,” Rosie said. “Cool.”

“People might think we’re reading eye charts and stuff,” Mark said. “Not people in the know,” I said.

“Right,” said Tyler.

There were a few kids in the gym when we got there. Rosie was a decent player, Tyler was horrible, and Mark and I were pretty even.

“I’m better at web design,” Tyler gasped when Rosie and I beat him and Mark in a two-on-two game.

I laughed, and Rosie and I high-fived each other. “Is there anything you’re not good at?” she asked as we headed back to the lab. I was so shocked I stopped right in my tracks and Tyler nearly bumped into me.

“Watch where you’re stopping.” Tyler grabbed my shoulders briefly from behind before stepping around me, grinning as he passed.

“Sorry,” I said. He and Mark walked ahead of us, but I stayed put. Rosie smiled and shook her head. “You are, you know,” she said. “Good at stuff.”

“I’m Goody Morgan,” Jilly squealed as we stood in front of the board outside the drama room the Monday after tryouts. Goody Morgan was the female pilgrim with the most lines. Jilly had made her mom drive us to school that morning so we would be the first people to see the cast list. All I could think was,
Thank God.
I didn’t think she’d make it through the weekend. She spent most of it rehearsing what she’d say if she got a different part from the lead, things like, “Well, Goody Stanton has more depth to her character” and “Woman Number Three is important because she represents the relationship between the white people and the Native Americans.”

“See?” Jilly said, bringing me back to the cast list. “Goody Morgan, dot, dot, dot, dot, dot Jillian Hennessey.”

“That’s great, Jilly. Can we go now?”

“Wait,” she said. “What about you?” Her finger ran down the list of characters, then stopped. “Look. You’re an ear of corn.”

“What?” I leaned in to get a better look. There it was, printed in a nice field-of-corn yellow from an ink-jet printer. “‘I’m all Ears’” Ear of Corn … Erin Swift.” I groaned. Didn’t anyone know this was middle school? Plays using fruits and vegetables as characters went out with the third grade. “I didn’t try out for an ear of corn,” I said. I hadn’t tried out for anything. I mumbled my lines on purpose, sang off-key, tripped over a chair, and missed my cue more than once. I did everything possible not to get a part at all. I only went because Jilly wanted me to.

“You’re part of the chorus,” Jilly said. “See? Corn, peas, potatoes, yams. All the vegetables are represented.”

“I’m not going to be an ear of corn,” I hissed in Jilly’s ear. “I’m barely over being —”

“There she is!” said a familiar and unwelcome voice behind me. “From puppet to ear of corn. You’re moving up in the world, Swift.”

I whipped my head around to see Serena standing behind us, smiling her you’re-a-loser-and-I’m-not smile. She had been selected to play Goody Stanton in the play, the female with the second most lines.

“Shut up,” Jilly and I said at the same time.

“Oooh. Are you going to hit me again? Let’s see, that would mean more detention. Or maybe a suspension. Or wait, possibly expell — expellation.”

“Expulsion,” I said. I couldn’t help it. I hated when people used the wrong word.

“You would know,” S.W. said. Then she turned to Jilly. “I see you got the lead. Again. Congratulations.”

“Thanks, Serena.” Jilly pretended not to hear the snot factor in Serena’s voice. “See you at rehearsal.”

When we were out of earshot, I groaned loudly. “There’s no way I’m going to spend the next eight weeks as an ear of corn around her.”

“It’ll be fun,” Jilly said. “Just ignore her.”

“That’s like telling me to ignore a truck barreling down the highway at me.”

“Well, move to the side of the road, Erin. You’re going to have to deal with her for the next eight weeks.” Jilly fluffed her bangs and tossed her hair. She’d been doing a lot of hair tossing these days. I wondered if she was turning into a horse.

“I don’t know if I can do that,” I said as we headed toward her locker. Several people called out to us as we passed, and we smiled and waved. Even though they included me in their greetings, I sometimes wondered if they’d notice me if I wasn’t with Jilly. After all, this was her territory. Though I came over to this part of the school every morning, it still felt strange. As if I had crossed over the border into a place I didn’t quite belong. But I liked being noticed in a good way, not for my feet or being called a puppet. Or now an ear of corn.

An ear of corn. What was I thinking? I planned to spend the next eight weeks as an ear of corn because of Jilly. This seemed to be pushing the limits of friendship, in my opinion.

Jilly took my arm and squeezed it. “Thanks for doing this, Erin. I don’t think I could get through it without you.”

I sighed. Jilly always seemed to know just what to say when I changed my mind. Giving her a half smile, I tugged at my earlobe. “I’m all ears.”

Jilly grinned. “See you after school.”

I wondered if anyone else would be an ear of corn for their friend. Somehow, I doubted it.

Monday, September 23

Corn. That’s right, folks, I’m playing an ear of corn in the Thanksgiving Harvest play. If Jilly wasn’t so excited that I’m doing it with her, I would have turned my kernels in right away. But it was all she could talk about the entire ride home. We’ll start script reading next week and full rehearsals in 2 weeks and it just totally bums me out…can’t even believe I’m going to spend good after school time singing along with a bunch of vegetables. The things I do for friendship!

But I have to say Jilly has done things for friendship, too…like taking down the Pinocchio posters. She was so funny cuz when I thanked her she smiled and then got a weird look on her face and took off…maybe she’s feeling shy about it, which is even weirder.

Today I sat with Mark and Tyler and Rosie at lunch. Rosie had a strange brown drink in her thermos…told me it was chocolate
atole
and asked if I wanted some. Mark was behind her making these “No, don’t do it” gestures, but I didn’t want to hurt her feelings…tasted a little strange, but I drank most of it cuz it was nice and warm.

Then Mark told me it was basically corn mush…Corn! Don’t talk about corn around me! Rosie thinks I’m insane to do the play and I can’t explain to her that NO isn’t a word I can really use with Jilly.

Things That Are Freaking Me Out