Everybody Bugs Out (3 page)

chapter three

a date with mr. rainbow head

Y
umi had softball tryouts every day after school that week, so Rachel and I walked home without her.

“It feels like we've been back forever!” Rachel complained on Wednesday.

“No kidding,” I said. My back ached from carrying my heavy backpack and my mind ached just thinking about all the homework my teachers had already piled on. “So much for easing us back into the new semester! But it does seem rather extreme.”

“Oh, I'd call it mean!” Rachel replied with a grin. “The pain in my back.”

“It's gonna give me a heart attack!” I finished.

“At least it's a sunny day.”

“Not that we have time to play.”

“Probably won't until we're old and gray.”

As of yesterday, we'd been trying to have rhyming conversations to make the walk home more fun. It was Rachel's idea—and a good one.

“So, confession time,” said Rachel.

“That's easy to rhyme!”

“You know Erik?”

I thought for a moment. “Is he friends with Derrick?”

“No, game over. This is a serious question,” Rachel said.

“Oh, sorry. The only Erik I know is one of the Corn Dog Boys.”

We called all the guys who shared our lunch table Corn Dog Boys due to a disgusting incident that took place last semester—and one that I'd rather forget.

“That's the one,” said Rachel. “He's the guy who showed up at school today with purple streaks in his hair.”

“Right, and last semester he had blue bangs and then they turned green.”

“Exactly!” said Rachel.

“Forget Corn Dog Boy. We should call him Rainbow Hair. I wonder what his natural color is. Think he even remembers?”

“His mom is a hairdresser and she likes experimenting on him with new dyes,” Rachel explained.

“So there's a reason behind the weirdness.”

“I think it's cute,” said Rachel. “And guess what else? I like him.”

“You didn't even give me a chance to guess!”

“Well, whatever. Not the point. So what do you think?”

I considered this for a moment, then turned to Rachel. “Maybe you should dye your hair pink. Then you guys would kind of match.”

Rachel slapped my arm with the back of her hand. “Don't make fun of my new crush!”

“Sorry. Kidding! You're right—he's cute. And you should totally go for it.”

“I'm glad you think so,” Rachel said. “There's just one tiny problem. Minuscule, really, and it's something you could help me out with …”

“Sure, anything.”

“I was hoping you'd say that! The thing is, I hear he's going out with Hannah and—”

“Forget it!” I interrupted. We were still two blocks from our street, but I stopped in my tracks. “I'm not helping you break them up! Hannah's my friend.”

“She's more Taylor's friend than yours,” said Rachel. “I know you guys talk at school but you never hang out on weekends.”

Rachel had a point. Hannah and I were total school friends. And I wanted to keep it that way. “We finally have a truce with Taylor's crowd. So let's not mess that up.”

“Relax,” said Rachel. “I don't want you to try and break them up. Believe me, I learned my lesson last term.”

“Good.” I continued walking but remained skeptical. “So, um, how can I help?”

“Well, like I said—I heard they're a couple but I'm not positive it's true. So I thought maybe you could just ask her. You know—if they're going out. And if they're going to the dance together.”

“That's
all
you want to know?”

Rachel nodded. “That's it.”

It sounded simple enough, but I had to make sure. “And if they
are
a couple, you'll back off? No trying to steal him away? No bad-mouthing Hannah? No asking me or anyone else to get involved?”

Rachel gazed at me, surprised and hurt—like I'd really done damage to her feelings. “What kind of person do you think I am?”

“The kind of person who hates Taylor and all of her friends.”

Rachel laughed. “Okay, that's probably true. But I won't try and break them up. This is all about Erik. I'm really into him and all I want to know is if he and Hannah are actually together, and if they are, I'll give up.”

“Can I get that in writing?”

“Isn't my promise enough?” Rachel blinked at me like she couldn't figure out if I was serious or not—and to be honest, I wasn't sure, either.

But I'd take a chance. “I'll ask her tomorrow before French. Okay?”

“Awesome with cheese! Thanks!” Rachel held out her fist for a bump.

“No prob,” I said as our knuckles hit.

When we finally turned onto our street, I waved. “See you tomorrow.”

“Cool deal. And don't worry. I'll call Yumi first thing in the morning to make sure she's not late, again.”

“She's been on time all week,” I pointed out.

“That's because I've been calling her every day.”

I laughed.

“What's so funny?” she asked. “Better safe than late.”

“Said the sidewalk to the skate.”

Rachel shook her head. “That doesn't make any sense.”

“It doesn't have to,” I said, looking both ways before crossing the street. “It's just gotta rhyme.”

“Sure that's not a crime?” Rachel called from the other side.

Rather than answer her, I pretended to be a mime.

But I'm not sure if she got it, and if I explained, it would've ruined the joke, so I just let it go.

Once inside, I leashed up Pepper and took him to the park. After we played fetch for a while, I went home and started my homework, but I couldn't focus because I was too busy trying to figure out what to say to Hannah. So I decided just to call and get the “weird Rachel favor” out of the way, so I wouldn't have it hanging over my head all night.

Of course, I couldn't call Hannah only to ask about her supposed boyfriend. That seemed weird. So instead, I asked her if we had any French homework.

“We need to translate three pages of
The Little Prince
and also write about what we did over winter vacation,” Hannah told me.

“Oh, cool,” I said, pretending like I didn't already know. “That'll be easy for me because I hardly did anything.”

“Really?” asked Hannah. “Nothing?”

“Well, my mom got married, and we celebrated Christmas, and I played with my dog, but we didn't go anywhere.”

“Well, I went to San Francisco but didn't really do anything—just visited my grandparents and played a lot of Scrabble.”

“Scrabble can be fun,” I said.

“Not for ten days straight. The problem was, it was too cold to go anywhere good.”

“Did it snow?” I asked.

“Nope. It just rained, as usual. I've never seen real snow before.”

“Neither have I. Well, not more than a tiny dusting once, when we visited my uncle in Seattle, but I'm not sure that counts.”

As we talked, I kept hoping the conversation would naturally drift toward boys or Valentine's Day or hair dye or even corn dogs—something I could actually segue into a question about Erik—but it never did, so I finally asked her, flat out. “Hey, are you really going out with Erik?”

“Yup,” said Hannah. “Ever since New Year's Day. A bunch of my friends met a bunch of his friends at the mall, and we saw that new Ashton Kutcher movie and then he asked me afterward. By the fountain—the one people always sneak shampoo into?”

“That's awesome!” I said. “Not the shampoo part—that's just funny.”

“I heard that last summer the fountain bubbled over and flooded the Gap.”

“Huh.” I squinted my eyes shut for a second because I felt weird about asking what I had to ask next. “Um, think you'll be going to the big dance with him?”

“Absolutely!” Hannah said. “In fact, I was just flipping through magazines, looking for outfit ideas.”

“Cool! Are you going super-fancy or just kinda?” I asked. My friends had been debating this issue all week.

Hannah groaned. “I can't decide. At first I thought I'd be more comfortable in a regular dress. But then Taylor bought a strapless and now she's trying to convince all of us to wear strapless dresses so she's not the only one, but I don't want to stress about whether or not my dress will stay up all night, since it's not like I've got the goods to hold it up myself.”

I laughed. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

“Thanks a lot!” Hannah said, seemingly offended.

“No, I didn't mean it like that, I swear! I was saying I feel that way myself—because I don't have the, uh, goods, either. And even if I did, I still don't think I'd get one because strapless dresses have always looked weird to me. Incomplete, like there's something missing.”

“Like, Omigosh! I forgot half my dress!”

“Exactly. They should at least be cheaper since there's so much less material, but they almost never are.”

We both laughed. Then she asked, “So what are you going to wear?”

“I don't even know if I'm going,” I said, petting Pepper, who was lying next to me.

“You have to,” said Hannah. “Everybody does.”

“So did Erik ask you in person or by e-mail?”

“Neither,” she replied.

“Did he text you?”

“Nope. I don't have a cell.”

“So what are you saying? Did he get way old-fashioned and put a note in your locker?”

Emma sometimes gets notes in her locker from her boyfriend, Phil. Usually he writes short messages like,
Good luck with your Latin quiz
, or
Saw you walk by my class during second period
. Things that any friend could have written, but somehow, coming from a boyfriend made them seem better.

“Oh, he hasn't asked me yet,” said Hannah.

“Then how do you know you guys are going?”

“Because we're a couple,” said Hannah, like it was obvious. “He's not going to ask some other girl.”

She had a good point. “Do all your friends have dates?”

“Not yet, but they're working on it,” said Hannah.

“Your friends sound just like my friends,” I said.

“It's not just us,” said Hannah. “It's the entire sixth grade.”

“No pressure,” I added.

“Right.” Hannah laughed. “But I'd better go. See you tomorrow.”

“Bye.”

After I hung up I thought about calling Rachel to give her the news, but I decided to wait until our walk to school the next day. But then I wasn't sure if it was okay to bring up Erik in front of Yumi. This was a sensitive issue, but my friends and I never kept secrets from each other before. Plus, Yumi was busy looking down at her new phone, texting someone and not paying attention to us at all.

So I figured it would be okay. But just in case it wasn't, I stayed vague. “I called Hannah last night. Turns out the rumors are true.”

“So she and Erik
are
a couple?” asked Rachel.

I nodded.

“Do you know when he asked her?”

“Oh, he hasn't gotten around to that yet,” I said. “But Hannah says she knows he will.”

Rachel nodded, taking the news surprisingly well.

“You don't even seem upset,” I was happy to say. I'd been bracing myself for the worst.

Rachel shrugged. “The dance is six weeks away. Even if Erik had already asked Hannah, well, a lot can happen between now and then.”

I shrugged, not thinking about her words very carefully. But I should have. Because then I might have been prepared for the craziness to come.

Or maybe there wasn't any way to be prepared.

chapter four

no chicks, no turtles,and definitely no volcanoes!

A
week later when I got to science class my teacher, Ms. Roberts, asked everyone to get right to their seats because she had some very big news. “Birchwood Middle School's annual Sixth-Grade Science Fair is in four and a half weeks,” she announced, clapping her hands together and beaming as if this were the most exciting thing to happen to us since that pipe burst in the cafeteria and we all got a surprise half day.

I glanced around the silent room, clearly not the only one who failed to comprehend the importance of her announcement. I'd never heard of the Sixth-Grade Science Fair, and from the looks on my classmates' faces, they hadn't, either.

“If you're going to participate, you'll want to get started immediately,” Ms. Roberts went on. “Choose a topic and, if you'd like, pick a partner or two. Just be sure to choose wisely because all members of the winning team will be awarded scholarships to Space Camp next summer.”

As soon as Ms. Roberts mentioned Space Camp, practically everyone's hands shot up, and half the class shouted out their questions, before our teacher had a chance to call on anyone.

What's Space Camp?

Are we gonna be graded on this?

Is the fair for the whole sixth grade or just our class?

Can I go to Space Camp if I'm afraid of heights?

May I please have the bathroom pass?

Ms. Roberts smiled and held up a stack of pages. “Please settle down and hold on to your questions for just a few moments while I explain. This is a schoolwide event, so yes, everyone in the sixth grade will be competing. The seventh and eighth grades have their own science fair, but you won't need to worry about that until next year. And all of the other information is right here in the handout. Please read through it before asking any more questions. Oh, and here's the bathroom pass, Caitlyn.”

Wow, Space Camp! Could the news be more excellent? Actually, I wasn't sure, since I still didn't know what Space Camp was all about. Just that it sounded super-cool. Like, maybe if I won, I'd get to wear a silver space suit with one of those bubble heads and launch rockets and float around in a zero gravity chamber, drink Tang, and eat freeze-dried ice cream. Does Ben and Jerry's ice cream come freeze-dried? How cool would it be to eat chocolate-chip cookie dough in space? Too cool to calculate! And speaking of calculations, I wondered what my chances were, given that I'd be competing with the entire sixth grade.

I'd have to beat out hundreds of kids, which would be hard to do alone. I'm a good enough student—I can get As and Bs if I work really hard—but I'm no natural brain. So yes, I'd definitely need help. A teammate. I wondered if we had to choose partners from our class. Because if not—if we were allowed to work with anyone—I'd ask Emma. She's in honors science and she's the smartest kid I know. Not that she'd automatically want to work with me. Sure we were great friends, but she had her whole physics club crew to choose from, plus her boyfriend, Phil—another big Birchwood brain. They'd probably pair up and do something amazing and they wouldn't need my help at all.

The two of them would go to Space Camp together. Maybe they'd grow up to be real astronauts. They could be the first couple to be launched into space, have picnics on Mars, hold hands as they shot through the stratosphere …

Why would she pass up the chance to make history in order to work with me?

It wouldn't hurt to ask her, though.

As soon as the handout came to me, I scanned it until I got to the section on rules.

1. Original work is a must.

2. You may work alone or with up to two partners. That means individual entries or teams of two and three are acceptable. No teams of four!

3. Parents and siblings can assist when it comes to carpooling and shopping for supplies, but all work must be done by students and only students.

4. No student or team can spend more than $50 on materials. Hold on to your receipts. If there's any doubt, the judges will ask for proof.

5. Extra points will be given for innovation and creativity.

6. Do not miss the deadline. Everything must be completed and brought to the main auditorium on Thursday, February 13, by 6:00 p.m.

7. Judging will take place on Friday, February 14.

Friday, February 14, was Valentine's Day! Now there was even more to stress about. Or more to look forward to, depending on how you looked at things. (And as for me, I still hadn't decided.)

I read the rules again. Everything seemed clear enough. And better yet, there wasn't any ban on finding partners outside of class. Genius partners!

I wished I had a cell phone like Yumi and Rachel. If I did, I'd text Emma immediately, before she teamed up with someone else. Unfortunately, my mom and Ted don't find cell phones “necessary” at my age. And when I pointed out that lots of things were unnecessary (making me do the dishes and take out the garbage, for instance), they were not amused.

So I'd have to wait for class to get out. In the meantime, I made a mental checklist of everything I'd add to the team. No, Emma didn't need my brainpower, but I worked hard and I had plenty of other things to contribute. Out of all my friends, I'm the best at cracking corny jokes. Plus, thanks to Ted, I've almost perfected my oatmeal chocolate-chip cookie recipe. And everyone knows you can't work on big projects without a good cookie. Not successfully, anyway.

“Pretty cool, huh?”

I heard someone ask this, but I didn't think the question was directed at me until I felt a tap on my shoulder.

It was Oliver, my favorite lab partner. “I was just thinking about how excellent it would be if we won and got to go.”

I nodded with real enthusiasm. “It'd be awesome with a side of cheese.”

“Everything is awesome with a side of cheese. That's the whole point of cheese. To add to the awesomeness.”

I grinned. “I never thought about it that way.”

He smiled back. “Well, I have.”

“Obviously.”

“So should we go for it?” he asked.

“Wait, you mean you and me?”

“Sure, if you want to.” Oliver shrugged and looked down at his scuffed blue high-tops. “Either way, it's no big deal.”

“Okay, yeah.” I said it fast, before I could really think about it. He caught me off guard, and yes was all I could think to say. It was cool of Oliver to ask, and if it weren't for the Emma possibility, he'd be the ideal partner. Oliver is plenty smart and hardworking. Sweet, too. He's quiet in a nice, kind of shy way, and he smells good, like unscented soap.

Okay, yes, his handwriting is a bit messy, but I like how he always uses both sides of the paper in his loose-leaf notebook. When he saw me notice this a few weeks ago, he was quick to point out that he did it to save paper for environmental reasons, not because he's cheap. Basically, he doesn't want to kill any more trees than he has to, which you've gotta respect. Or at least I do.

Anyway, my point is, there's a lot to like about Oliver.

Oh, and he's cute, too. Brown hair that used to be buzzed but now is a bit longer, but not puffy. He's got green eyes and dark skin and a nice but faint Jamaican accent that you really have to listen for.

“Perfect!” he replied with another smile. And that's when I noticed how nice his smile was. It was the lack of dimples that put him over the edge. Oliver's smile was so bright he didn't need them.

So now it was settled. We were partners. I wondered if Emma would want to team up with us both, and I was just about to ask Oliver how he felt about working with her when Tobias, our other lab partner, leaned over and said, “I've got tons of cool ideas.”

“Huh?” Both Oliver and I asked at the same time.

“We're partners, right?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at Oliver. “That's what you just decided.”

In my head I screamed: NO WAY! THIS ISN'T HAPPENING! Because Tobias is basically everything that Oliver is not. His handwriting is very neat—small and boxlike—but that doesn't make up for his rude attitude. He's also annoying and loud and sometimes even a little smelly.

Today, for example, he reeked of stale sweat. Last week it was ketchup.

But I couldn't complain out loud. I didn't want to be mean and Tobias wasn't always that bad. We usually got along okay, but working with him on the science fair project seemed all wrong—totally unnecessary and annoying, too. Especially when I'd had my heart set on working—and winning—with Emma.

And from the uncomfortable silence that enveloped our table, like some stinky cloud of fumes from an experiment gone wrong, I sensed that Oliver wasn't happy, either. But he didn't speak up right away.

Not until Tobias looked from me to Oliver and asked, “What?”

“Nothing.” Oliver coughed. “You're right. We should absolutely team up. You know, since we already sit by each other. It'll be easier that way.”

Tobias nodded and Oliver nodded back. So I nodded, too, all the while trying to figure out how this happened.

Even though Oliver acted like he'd always meant to include Tobias, I didn't think he had.

I wondered if there was still time to get out of this.

It seemed unlikely, and before I could decide for sure, Ms. Roberts called the class to attention and started talking about cell structure.

At least she ended her lecture ten minutes before the bell rang so we could begin planning our projects.

By that time I'd calmed down a bit. I'd also noticed that most of the kids in my class were either working solo or with their lab partners, and that did make sense. Working with Oliver and Tobias maybe wouldn't be so bad. We were used to one another. And Emma probably had other plans, anyway. This was a good thing. At least that's what I convinced myself of before Tobias opened his mouth.

“We should hatch chicks,” he said.

“Chicks?” I repeated skeptically. “That's not really an experiment. It's more like a project my kindergarten class did years ago.”

Oliver laughed and Tobias just glared like I'd said something mean, but I was only being honest. Okay, maybe my reply came out sounding a little too harsh. It's not Tobias's fault I didn't want to work with him. “I do like the idea of working with animals, though.”

“Fine, forget the chicks,” Tobias said. “How about turtle races? We can buy five of them and then feed each one a different diet and see how they do.”

“Aren't turtles expensive?” I asked, pointing to the list of rules. “There's a fifty-dollar limit.”

“Maybe we rent them,” said Tobias.

“They're animals,” said Oliver. “Not roller skates.”

“Okay, what if we buy just one.”

“A one-turtle race?” asked Oliver.

Tobias tossed his pencil into the air and tried but failed to catch it. “No, we can do something else with it. Dissect it, maybe.”

“Gross!” I cried.

“I'm ethically opposed to dissecting animals,” said Oliver. “And even if I wasn't, can that even be done? Wouldn't the shell get in the way?”

“Oh, I'm sure it can be done.” Tobias bent down to retrieve his pencil. “Anything can be dissected,” he replied, popping back up with a mischievous grin on his face.

Oliver and I looked at each other, wide-eyed and horrified.

“Kidding.” Tobias threw his hands up in surrender. “Will you two relax?”

“Sorry.” I shook my head. “But just the thought of dissecting something—egad!”

“No one really says ‘egad' anymore,” said Tobias. “If they ever did.”

“Annabelle does.” Oliver smiled at me. “And I think it's cool.”

“Fine, take her side. I knew we shouldn't have teamed up with her!”

This was way insulting considering that Oliver had asked me first, but before I could say so, Oliver spoke up. “Dude, of course we should be partners with Annabelle. She's really smart and I'm sure she has tons of good ideas.”

“Yeah, like what?” asked Tobias.

He and Oliver both turned to me, totally putting me on the spot. But that wasn't anything I couldn't handle. I'd already done some quick thinking. “Maybe we should do something space related. You know—to keep in theme with the Space Camp prize.”

“That's what I was thinking, too!” Oliver's voice rose slightly with excitement.

“Everyone's going to do that,” Tobias grumbled.

“Um, okay. Let me think for a sec. Oh—I have an amazing puppy named Pepper. Maybe we can try and teach him some new tricks.”

“I'm allergic to dogs,” said Tobias. “Cats, too. Anything with fur.”

“Bummer,” said Oliver.

“Well, what if we analyze different brands of dog food. Find out what's really in them. How healthy they are.” I'd just read an article on the very subject. Turns out lots of popular dog food brands are not so great for dogs. And I kept meaning to look up Pepper's brand, anyway. Then I'd be killing two birds with one stone. Not that I wanted to kill any birds. Not even rhetorically for the purposes of science.

“That could be kind of interesting,” said Oliver.

“Or kind of boring,” said Tobias. “And I told you I'm allergic.”

“To dog food?” I asked. “You wouldn't actually have to work with any live dogs.”

Tobias shook his head stubbornly. “Forget it. Not interested.”

“Fine.” I took a deep breath and thought harder. “How do earthquakes happen?”

“Yawn!” said Tobias.

“What if we track the gestational process of a butterfly?”

“And you thought hatching chicks sounded immature?” Tobias said.

Okay, maybe he had a point there. But I didn't like how Tobias rejected all my ideas without even giving them more than a second of consideration, like he disagreed just because he wanted to be difficult. That was my suspicion, anyway. Meanwhile, Oliver stayed quiet throughout the whole process but kept looking at me and rolling his eyes, like he was running out of patience, too. I'm glad he was on my side but I wished he'd speak up.