Freaked Out (11 page)

N
o one was in the kitchen when Maeve got home from school. Charlotte and her father had given her a ride, so it was early. A note on the kitchen table said that Sam had permission to go home from school with Gary.

She enjoyed the silence of the empty apartment. Usually she was happiest surrounded by people, but this was kind of like a timeout from the world. She hurried to her room and flopped on her bed. Her guinea pigs were resting.

She dug out her new teen magazine to read. She loved reading about the latest fashions and movies. But first, she turned to the horoscope page.

It's time for your stubborn gene to kick in. Don't be like the bull and charge forward, though, or you might find yourself in a china shop. You are smarter than that. Think things through. Take one thing at a time, and be patient, resolve it.
Leave time for a romantic interlude. Soon you'll have two lucky days back to back. Enjoy!

Two lucky days paired with a romantic interlude! Maeve leaned back in her chair. Thank goodness. There was nothing about her life turning into a disaster because she flunked her math test.

She opened her notebook.

Before social studies, Charlotte had handed Maeve an envelope full of mail for her “Ask Maeve” column. Now,
with the house quiet, was a good time to catch up. She read through the letters and selected one to answer first.

Wow! Maeve thought about what to say. At least when she had a problem, like math, her parents listened to her try to explain it. She was going to sit in on the math conference at school. She didn't know what she'd say, but she'd be there to defend herself.

At least Maeve had parents she wasn't afraid of. She leaned back against her big flower pillow and drifted off. As she closed her eyes, a huge red flashing F appeared in her brain. “Be gone,” she said out loud as she waved her hand in the air like a wizard commanding a newt to disappear.
Mmm
, she thought as she drifted off to sleep.
It was wonderful to be in charge.

Panic City

“Maeve! Are you home? She's home, Ross. Her books are here. Maeve?” Ms. Kaplan climbed up the stairs.

Maeve's door was open. “Here she is, Ross. She's asleep.”

Maeve's eyes fluttered. She felt like Sleeping Beauty awakening from a deep hundred-year nap.

Ms. Kaplan shook her. “Maeve, wake up. Do you have any idea how worried we were?”

Maeve sat up, rubbed her eyes, and yawned. “Worried? Why? I'm okay.”

“Why? I told you I'd pick you up after school and we'd go shopping. I was a few minutes late, but I knew you'd wait for me. When you weren't outside, I waited and waited. Then I went inside, but the school was empty. Mrs. Fields said everyone had gone home.”

Maeve blinked her eyes. She forgot a shopping trip? Impossible! The math test and that mind-numbing F had wiped out all her brain cells.

“Mrs. Fields is worried. I need to call her.” Maeve's mom popped the cell phone from her pocket, but left the room to dial Ruby Fields's number.

Maeve's father came in the room and sat on her bed.
“Maeve, honey, what's wrong? Are you sick?”

Maeve did feel strange, as if she really was Sleeping Beauty, and instead of five or ten minutes, she'd slept for years. “I was just tired. And Dad…”

“Yes, is there some trouble? Are you in trouble?”

“Sort of. I flunked my math test. I guess that's what made me forget Mom was picking me up. Charlotte offered me a ride and, well…I'm sorry if I scared you and Mom. What if Mrs. Fields won't let me come back to school?”

“Nonsense. We talked about this. Flunking the test isn't the end of the world.”

“Maybe not to you, but I studied and I still flunked it. I just can't understand seventh-grade math.”

Mr. Taylor sighed. “I know, Maeve. I understand.”

“You do?”

“Yes, now let's go downstairs and talk. We sent Sam back to his friend Gary's house with money to order pizza. We thought we might have to look for you.”

“Where would I be?” Maeve said. “What are we having for dinner? I went to the library to look something up, and I missed lunch.”

“Well, we can't have you starving, now can we?” Her father reached out and smoothed Maeve's hair like he used to do when she was a sick little girl. “I think we'll go out to some nice quiet little restaurant where we can talk. Would you like that?”

“Yes.” Maeve got up. “I have to change clothes. These are all wrinkled.”

“Fine. Take your time. I'll make sure our plans are all right with your mother.”

Maeve looked in her closet for something colorful, then settled on jeans and a top with multicolored sequins. She washed her face, brushed her teeth, then took a little time with some makeup. Her idea was that if she looked good, she'd feel good.

“Where shall we go?” her dad asked, once they were in the car. “Anna's Taqueria? Do you feel like Mexican?”

“Anna's will be too crowded,” Maeve decided. Maybe filled with kids from school. She was worried. Everyone went to Anna's. She didn't want kids to hear her talking about math with her parents. Plus, Maeve hadn't had a moment alone with her parents in a long time. Tonight was special, if she could forget why it was happening.

“Someplace quiet,” Maeve's mother said, rubbing her forehead. She probably had a headache. Maeve hoped she wasn't the cause of it. It must be hard being a parent, she figured, especially when you had a child who was having trouble in school.

“Sorry, Mom,” she said, just loud enough for her mother to hear.

“Someplace near Brookline Village,” her mom said. “We can find a restaurant there, and maybe it won't be as crowded.”

Once they were settled at a table at the Village Smokehouse, Ms. Kaplan collapsed in her chair, leaning her chin on her elbow, and staring at Maeve's dad. He stared back. Maeve was dying to ask them if they were dating or something. There was a sort of electricity between them that made a part of Maeve wish they could have gone out alone, but then again maybe her math problems were bringing them together again.

The waiter came and her dad ordered coffee, a steak, and a salad.

Her mother said she'd have grilled salmon and a salad.

“Maeve?”

“I'll have a hamburger and lemonade.” She studied the menu. “Mom, can I have the mud pie for dessert?”

“Whatever you like,” her father said. “This is a celebration. We're celebrating having dinner with our beautiful daughter.”

“But dumb.”

“You're not dumb, Maeve,” Mr. Taylor reassured her. “I want you to banish that word from your vocabulary. There are all kinds of smarts in this world. Don't you think being able to be an actor and make someone laugh or cry with a look or a phrase is a certain kind of genius? You and the rest of the world need to expand your definition of intelligence. So you need some help with your studies. That's no crime. Maybe a different tutor.” Both of her parents reached over and patted her hand at the same time.

“No, I like Matt. This isn't his fault. He's patient and nice and he really helps me. Remember how last year I couldn't even manage percentages? Well, I can do them now. My problem is that I have math phobia.” When Maeve saw her parents' bemused expressions, she added for emphasis, “I have all the symptoms. Really.”

“I don't know, Maeve.” Her mother looked skeptical.

“Seriously, Mom. I looked it up. My mind goes completely blank when somebody asks me a question about math. I get nervous when I go to math class. I can't pay attention and my mind wanders, I don't understand when
the teacher talks, and I wish I was somewhere else….”

“Maeve, honey.” Her mother held up her hand. “I think you make a very good case. But even if you were able to control your anxiety, I think math would still be difficult for you.” Her dad nodded in agreement with his wife.

Maeve was really feeling pumped. “I really know that. But listen to this. When my friends helped me study, we made up songs and stories and football cheers to help me remember formulas. I think I can keep doing that and with Matt's help, I can learn how to use those formulas with the right problems. What I can't do is understand what the Crow—”

“The crow?” Both parents looked totally confused.

“I mean Mr. Sherman. I can't understand what he's saying, and he goes too fast, and then I think I am stupid, and it's all over.” Maeve's woeful expression caused both parents to laugh.

“It's not funny, you guys,” protested Maeve. “I need math therapy.”

“Maeve, I'm very proud of you,” her mother said after collecting herself. “It sounds as if you've taken some positive steps to help yourself.”

“Well, I sort of remembered that my sign is Taurus, and Taurus is a bull, and bulls are stubborn, and I'm going to let my stubborn gene kick in to get over being scared of math.”

Her mother and father looked at each other, trying to hold back a smile.

“You can laugh if you like, but I'm your daughter. You probably have some stubborn genes, too.”

“No kidding.” Her mother laughed and took her dad's
hand. They sat there like that, holding hands and looking at a bemused Maeve.

After a nice, slow-paced dinner where they talked about movies and things other than math and Maeve, she went back home full of chocolate mud pie and hope.

“May I go up to my room and study?” Maeve asked.

“Yes, but maybe you don't need to study too much tonight. Just go to bed early and start over tomorrow,” her mother said, surprising Maeve. Several months ago, she would have said,
Study all night if that's what it takes
.

Maeve got ready for bed but decided to check in with her friends to let them know she was okay. After her nap she wasn't very sleepy anymore.