Freaked Out (10 page)

M
aeve looked sleepy, but she'd gotten up early enough today to walk with the BSG. “Avery, you're going to be the basketball team's star this year. I just know it. Never mind those snooty—and very tall—eighth graders. They won't know what hit them.”

“Julie Faber invited Avery to her party yesterday.” Isabel dropped this bomb on the group.

“You're kidding!” Maeve danced around a shedding oak tree whose red leaves crunched on the sidewalk and street. “That's great, Avery.”

“I'm not going.”

“Why not?” Charlotte said.

“I don't think she did it because she wanted to. I think Anna put her up to it.”

“Why would she do that?” Charlotte still had trouble believing that Julie Faber would leave Avery out of anything. Avery was always so much fun at a party because she got
along with all the boys and managed to get everyone off the sidelines.

“You know Anna and Joline. They just like to cause trouble. They were hoping I would fall on my knees and say, ‘Thank you, thank you, Julie, for inviting me to your great party.' Then they could call me a loser. Forget it. I'm not going.”

“I just don't feel right, going without you.” Katani shifted her book bag to her other shoulder. “We can still back out if you want us to.”

Maeve threw Katani a startled look and frowned. She was torn; she couldn't stand the idea of missing the party, but she didn't want to be disloyal either.

“No way, I'd feel really bad if you didn't go,” Ave said.

The girls made their way into the school and through the crowded halls to their lockers. No sooner had they opened them when Kiki Underwood, Anna, and Joline stopped behind Avery.

“I hear you're going to Julie's party after all, Avery.”

“Who told you that?” Avery wanted to ignore Kiki, but Kiki was an in-your-face type of person.

“Everyone heard about it. They said Julie felt sorry for you and that she changed her mind.”

Charlotte put her hand on Avery's arm, saying, “Leave it alone.” She hated fighting, even verbal fights, but it looked as if Kiki, Anna, and Joline had decided to stir things up.

All the BSG exchanged looks that said, “Don't take the bait.”

“Will your parents still let you go if you flunk the math test, Maeve?” Joline asked.

“Who said I was flunking math?”

“Everyone knows that, too.” Joline grinned and looked at Anna for support.

Katani turned to Avery. “Let's change the channel. This soap opera is boooring!”

A lot of seventh graders had gathered around them, hoping for an all-out scene, but Katani charged through the crowd, leading the way to homeroom. The rest of the BSG took her lead.

Once they got into class, Maeve asked, “What was that all about? They seemed determined to pick a fight.”

Katani shrugged. “Maybe the zookeepers forgot to come and feed them today.”

Maeve giggled and soon all the BSG were laughing.

“What's so funny, girls?” Ms. Rodriguez queried, walking into class and setting her books and purse on her desk. She took off a smashing suede coat, which Katani couldn't take her eyes off, and put it around the back of her chair.

“Oh, we were just conducting tryouts for Abigail Adams's version of
The Three Witches
.” Maeve rolled her eyes, and that set her friends off again.

“If you say so.” Ms. R smiled. “Better settle down now, however. We have a lot of work to do today.”

As third period got closer, Maeve could think of nothing else but math. When the bell rang and she had to make her way down the hall, she practiced the brand new math mantra her father had taught her. He said he learned it from his favorite political science professor in college. She stopped outside the door and took a deep breath. “This grade will not matter in five years. This grade will not matter in five years….”

“But how can you be so sure, Maeve?” Dillon nudged her across the threshold of the door.

Leave it to Dillon to ruin her meditation exercise. She was just about to drift into class feeling that this test was not going to impact her future success one iota.

The class got quiet in a hurry as soon as Mr. Sherman, dressed in his customary black shirt, black pants, and black sweater, walked to the desk. He had a frown on his face that suggested trouble.

“Well, I have some good news and some bad news. Which do you want to hear first?”

“The good,” Avery said, her confidence high.

“Yes, I agree,” Lisa Chen said. “Always get good news first. It helps you accept the bad news.”

“Maybe for you, Lisa,” Maeve said under her breath. No one heard her except Dillon, who gave Maeve a thumbs-up.

“Most of you passed,” Mr. Sherman said. “But on the whole, I was disappointed with the scores. Some of you need to seriously upgrade your study habits.” Mr. Sherman was always talking about upgrading things.

Dillon whispered. “He needs to upgrade his tie collection.”

Maeve whispered back, “Maybe his teaching skills, too.” Through her research, Maeve had learned that a lot of math teachers, brilliant though they may be in math, had a hard time teaching difficult-to-teach kids. And she was one of those kids.

“Mr. Johnson and Ms. Kaplan-Taylor…” [Wow. Maeve was impressed. He actually got her name right this time!] “Do you have a comment you want to share with the class?”

“No sir.” Dillon grinned at Maeve the moment Mr. Sherman turned away.

“The rest of the bad news is that several of you flunked the test. If you happen to be in that minority, please talk to me about the retest.”

That could be good news,
Maeve thought.
Remember the mantra—in five years, this test won't be important. If I make up songs or plays or story problems to help me learn, maybe I'll do better on the retest
.

Maeve took her paper from Mr. Sherman, who handed each test out himself so the scores were confidential. Maeve realized that was pretty nice of him. In fact, he had taken time to write a short letter to Maeve, stapling it as the top sheet of her test.

Slowly, she raised the cover sheet until she could see her grade. A big, fat, red F. Her heart pounded and she felt short of breath. No, she was going to stay in control…breathe…in five years…

Letting the top sheet fall back into place, she read the letter. Mainly, it said Mr. Sherman would like to follow through on scheduling a conference with Maeve and her parents.

“You okay, Maeve?” Avery whispered from behind her.

Maeve nodded, then turned around a little. “What did you get?”

“I got an A. I studied really hard this time. I want to make good grades.”

So do I. Maeve sighed. I studied hard, too. I'd love to make good grades in math. She whispered to herself, “Breathe…in five years…One F does not a failure make.”

Mr. Sherman spent the rest of the period going over the test and asking for questions. Maeve tried to follow along, but the big, fat F was imprinted in her brain. Well, at least she wasn't ready to pass out. That was an improvement. She would have to call her dad and tell him that his mantra had definitely helped.

But still, when the bell rang, Maeve bolted out of class and down the hall.

Avery and Isabel tried to catch her, but Maeve was hurrying toward the library.

“Poor Maeve,” said a sympathetic Katani, who had been waiting outside math C class for her friends. “You know, there has to be a better way to help kids like Maeve learn math. Maeve isn't dumb. She just can't get math the way they teach it in school. I'm going to try to think of some more ways to help her. Will you guys help me?”

“Okay,” Charlotte said. “I have a book report to rewrite, but I'll make time.”

“I will, if I have any spare time after basketball practices.” Avery bounced an imaginary basketball all the way to the cafeteria.

“We all will,” Isabel promised.

Survival Skills

Maeve entered the library, which at this moment felt like a peaceful island in the South Pacific. She pretended
the air was washed clean by ocean breezes. If she tried she could smell salt water, feel the sun, and hear the slap of waves on the beach. She let down her hair, which she'd gathered into a knot before school. Red curls brushed her shoulders as she shook them out.

“May I help you, Maeve?” Ms. Curtis asked. “Is that your math test? How did you—” Ms. Curtis was one of Maeve's favorites. She seemed to understand that some students needed to approach things in a different way.

“No, I didn't. But I have a new plan. I don't want to be a math victim anymore. To start with, which computer can I use? I am going to look up math phobia.”

“That's a great idea. Empower yourself to solve problems and you will have a very successful life.” Maeve gave the friendly media specialist a grateful smile.

Ms. Curtis had used the exact right words. The sun on the beach got stronger, and Maeve started to feel warm inside and out as Ms. Curtis helped her bring up the first of several sites she could visit.

Practice Time

Avery didn't go out for the basketball team to hang out with Julie Faber and Anna Banana, but since they all made the team, she was going to have to put up with them. The duo was in classic mean mode on Tuesday afternoon at the first team practice.

They were practicing three on one, and Avery was teamed with Anna and Julie on offense, while Amanda was the defender. Anna kept passing the ball to Julie, who passed it back to Anna, who passed it back to Julie. It was
like they had some kind of Queens of Mean plan to keep the ball away from her, and Avery was the monkey in the middle, totally left out yet again.

Avery's frustration built until she jumped in, stole the ball from Julie, and charged past the defender for an easy lay-up.

“Avery, that was a nice move,” Coach Porter called out, “but in the three on one drill, you need to work together to get by the defender. This is a team sport!”

Anna grinned at Avery. “Show off.”

Avery just ignored her. She grabbed the ball and got back in line to run the drill again. This time when she got the ball, she bounce-passed to Julie, who passed to Anna, who tossed up an easy shot.

“That's what I like!” Coach Porter cheered. “Teamwork!”

Maybe Avery could learn to work with the Queens of Mean after all. That didn't mean they had to be friends, but Avery was willing to ignore their comments for the sake of the team. Luckily, she got to be partners with Isabel for the next drill.

“They're so ridiculous,” Isabel said later as they walked off the court to the locker room. “They were not passing to you on purpose!”

“Yeah, just like she didn't invite me to the party on purpose,” said Avery. “But enough about the QOM. How did you like the first practice?”

Isabel smiled. “I had fun! I think I'm going to like being on the team.”

“Great!” said Avery. “Hey, did you pass your math test?”

“You know, Ave, I didn't do so great either. C-. I think working with Maeve might help all of us to understand the problems better. My dad said that people have study groups in college all the time.”

“Yeah, Tim told me that too. I found when I was refereeing those little kids in soccer, I learned a lot myself.”

“I'm going to try to submit a cartoon for the newspaper around that theme.”

“You are so cool, Izzy. I could never do a cartoon, not in a zillion years. My drawings are the worst.” Isabel started giggling and Avery joined in. Avery's stick figure drawings resembled the artwork outside the kindergarten room. The first time Isabel had seen one of them, she had had to squeeze herself from laughing out loud. But the cool thing was that Avery really didn't care. Isabel had offered to give her a few pointers but Avery said she was happy to let Isabel be the drawing star of the BSG. “I have other things I want to do.”

Isabel reminded Avery of her own mother. They both liked to help other people.

In her daydreams Avery thought about being a pro soccer player, but sometimes she wanted to become a lawyer, a judge, or a Supreme Court justice, in that order. Whatever she did, she would help people, too, even if it meant just showing a bunch of kids how to kick a ball. After all, her mom said, “Even a little bit of help can make a difference in someone's life.” Avery added, “In a dog's life, too.”

Avery and Isabel laughed while they changed their clothes and walked slowly home, talking about their plans
and dreams and hopes for the future. Avery wondered whether the BSG would always stay in contact even when they were in college or out in the world. Would Maeve, for example, call her old friends when she was a famous star?