Lucy’s “Perfect” Summer (16 page)

She navigated her chunky self around and thrust a finger straight at Januarie.

Lucy didn’t know which to stare at: the runny yellow mess plastered all over the back of the poor kid’s shorts or the red, delighted face of J.J.’s little sister. Lucy had never seen her look that pleased with herself.

“That is so immature,” Waverly said.

Sarah shook her head. “It’s the way some kids are raised.”

“And where they’re from,” Taylor said. “That one girl is just trash. And that other one’s sister is the girl that got kicked out the very first day.”

Lucy stood up. By now, Mustard Girl was sobbing, and no one on her team had even handed her a Kleenex. Januarie was doubled over with laughter.

“Are you through eating already?” Sarah said.

Lucy didn’t answer. She just marched past the tables where most kids had gone back to their sandwiches and juice boxes and stopped behind the crying girl.

“Who has a napkin?” Lucy said.

“She needs toilet paper!” somebody said, and the giggling reached a new height.

“Hey! Napkin! Now!”

Nine-year-old bodies froze. A very skinny one snatched up a wet wipe and tossed it to Lucy.

“Hold still,” Lucy said to the mustard-drenched girl who was now hiccupping so hard Lucy thought her teeth might rattle out. She went after the back of her shorts with the wet wipe, but she spat her words at the figure who stood there like she’d been shot and hadn’t quite been able to fall down.

“Apologize, Januarie,” Lucy said.

“It wasn’t my idea,” Januarie said. “They — ”

“I’m not talking to them — I’m talking to
you
. Apologize.”

“She can’t make you, Jan-Jan,” somebody said.

Lucy glared at her. Januarie mumbled something that sounded like it might be, “I’m sorry” and took a step back.

Right into a pair of long legs.

“Do we have a problem here?” Hawke said.

All the little mouths that had had so much to say moments before were suddenly silent. Fingernails, shoelaces, and belly buttons became instantly interesting. Hawke looked at Lucy, but she wasn’t sure what to say either.

“Lucy?” he said. “Problem?”

“An accident with some mustard, sir,” Lucy said.

Hawke searched them all with his eyes, picking them clean. Lucy thought she heard at least one girl sniff. They were all sweating; she was sure of that.

“I hope whoever was careless has apologized,” he said finally.

“We’re working on it,” Lucy said.

He looked down at Mustard Girl and tilted his head. “Are you satisfied with that, Yo-Yo?”

There was one big holding of breath. Januarie’s face was almost blue.

Slowly, “Yo-Yo” nodded.

“Then let’s go find your coach and see if we can come up with some clean clothes for you to change into.” Hawke looked over his shoulder at Lucy. “I’d like to talk to you later,” he said.

When he was gone, Januarie’s team melted into a blob at Lucy’s feet.

“Thank you SO much — ”

“We would have gotten in so much trouble — ”

“You’re not gonna tell on us now are you?”

Lucy held up her hand, but they kept begging until Januarie said, “You better listen.”

“You guys should have thought about all that before you put mustard on that girl’s seat,” Lucy said. “Didn’t you get the Fair Play Code this morning? The blue sheet?”

“I thought that was about soccer,” the very skinny girl said.

“It’s about acting like a human.” Lucy gave them all a black look.

“I’m not helping you next time — so don’t let there be a next time.”

Heads bobbed. Eyes filled. Mouths let out sighs. Lucy was sure they’d all head for the bathroom as soon as she walked away.

She didn’t get two steps before Januarie was tugging at her hand.

“Are you gonna tell, really?” she said.

“I should.”

“But
are
you? You can’t, Lucy, or my whole team will hate me.”

Lucy stopped and shook away Januarie’s hand. “What were you thinking doing that to that girl, Januarie? Don’t you hate it when kids tease you?”

“Yeah, but — ”

“Then I don’t get it.”

“They dared me to do it because her sister’s that girl that yelled at the ref, and everybody hates her, and I had to — ”

“What?”

“They just started being friends with me. If I didn’t, they wouldn’t like me.”

“If they can’t like you just because you’re you, they aren’t your friends anyway.” Lucy’s words rang in her own head, as if she’d just said them to herself. She looked over at her own table, where half the team looked quickly away, and the other half was already whispering to each other.

It’s where they’re from,
they’d all agreed.

If they find out you’re from Los Suenos, they’ll make fun of you,
J.J. had warned her.

Lucy turned to leave Januarie there alone, but she grabbed at Lucy’s wrist again.

“Are you gonna tell J.J.?” she said.

“I don’t know.”

“Please don’t!”

“I said I don’t know!”

Before they could exchange any more exclamation points, Lucy pulled away. Lunch was over. She picked up her lunch bag and went back to the soccer field.

“I hear you’re wiping noses now,” Rianna whispered to Lucy when Coach Neely was dividing them up for the afternoon match.

Lucy leaned over to stretch. Rianna went down with her.

“While you were doing lunch duty,
I
was talking to Hawke about the ODP people.” Rianna shook her head. “Too bad. You could have been in on it too, if you weren’t busy hanging out with losers.”

She popped back up before Lucy could tell her she’d just caught her in a big fat lie. And she said
Lucy
was a loser.

Lucy was barely buckled into the van before Dusty poked a folded piece of paper into her hand. She drummed her fingers while Lucy read it.

Something is WAY wrong with J.J.

He won’t talk to anybody. Help!!!!

Lucy opened her mouth, but Dusty put a finger to her lips and darted her eyes toward Januarie. Lucy didn’t tell her they didn’t need to worry about Januarie being a little snitch right now. She figured she could tell Januarie she’d won the lottery and she wouldn’t breathe a word to anybody.

Instead, Lucy took the purple pen Dusty handed her and scribbled, “I’ll find out.”

But when Veronica’s mom dropped them off, J.J. was already at his front door, and Lucy watched him disappear inside.

“Did you decide?” Januarie’s voice wound up into Chihuahua range. “Are you gonna tell J.J. on me?”

Lucy held out her hand. “Give me all the mustard and ketchup you have. All of it.”

Januarie dumped her whole backpack onto the brick sidewalk. There must have been ten packets mixed in with her cleats and shin guards and candy bars.

“I won’t tell him,” Lucy said when Januarie had handed over the condiments, “if you promise me you will — ”

“I’ll never play a trick on Yo-Yo again. I swear. Even if she does have the weirdest name ever.”

“Not good enough,” Lucy said. “You have to promise to make friends with her.”

Januarie’s double ponytails nearly stood straight up. “Friends?” she said.

“Am I speaking French? Yes, friends. Do you promise?”

Januarie looked as if Lucy was requiring her to fork over all the candy bars too.

“You’re mean, Lucy,” she said, lower lip wobbling.

“So are you, Januarie,” Lucy said, “and I am so sick of mean people.”

12

Lucy slammed her way through every gate and door until she was in the kitchen. Mora even looked up from her cell phone.

“Who peed in your Cheerios?” she said.

Inez hissed at her and rested a soft gaze on Lucy.

“You are
colerico,
Senorita?” she said.

“That’s angry — ”

“Yes!”

Lucy dropped into her chair and glared at the tortilla chips in the wooden bowl. They were Inez’s homemade ones, still steaming, but Lucy pushed them away.

“Wow.” Mora set her phone aside and practically licked her chops. “Is it about a boy?”

“It’s about people being stupid and bossy.”

“Oh, I hate that,” Mora said. She scooted her chair in. “So, dish. I want details.”

“I think we will look to Senora Queen Esther instead,” Inez said.

“No offense, Inez,” Lucy said, “but I don’t see how she’s gonna help me this time. I’m not a queen.”

“You have the same power,” Inez said. “You will see.”

Mora rolled her eyes and selected a chip. Lucy sighed.

After Inez ran a brown finger down the tissue paper page with her lips moving silently, she closed her eyes as if she was seeing the story behind her eyelids.

“There is one evil
hombre
in the court of Senor King,” she said.

“There always is,” Mora said. “Otherwise there wouldn’t be a story.”

“His name is Senor Haman, and he is the highest next to Senor King.” Inez’s eyes darkened. “But he is hungry for the power, and he makes the law that every person must bow down to him.”

Mora stopped in mid-bite. “I wouldn’t bow down to him.”

Lucy was sure Mora wouldn’t. She couldn’t even picture it.

“Everyone, they bow down to Senor Haman, but not Senor Mordecai. He is the Jew. He will bow to no one but God. Senor Haman wants to kill Senor Mordecai, and not only him, but all the Jewish people.”

“See?” Lucy said. “People are just mean.”

“Senor King, he trusts Senor Haman. He says okay kill the Jews, and they must not fight back.”

“What did they ever do to him?” Mora said.

Inez folded her hands. “They worship God, not him.”

“Well, yeah, God is, like,
God!”

“Senor King — he does not believe this. Senor Haman, he says Senor King will lose his power if the Jews, they are not killed — ”

“Wait a minute,” Lucy said. “That means all Esther’s relatives will get killed.”

“But not her,” Mora said. “King Hottie doesn’t know she’s a Jew. I hope she keeps her mouth shut.”

Inez went back to the open Bible. “Senora Queen Esther, she does not know of this plan of Senor Haman. She only hear her people weeping in the street. She can see Senor Mordecai at the gate, dress in the sackcloth and the ashes.”

Mora wrinkled her nose. “Gross. What’s that about?”

“This is what the Jew will do when he mourns. So everyone, they will know his grief.”

“But Esther doesn’t know why he’s all crying and stuff,” Lucy said.

“No, until Senor Mordecai send the messenger to Senora Queen. He tells her, go to Senor King and ask for the mercy for the Jewish people.”

“But she can’t!” Mora cried. “He’ll find out she’s a Jew too!”

“That is not the most worser,” Inez said.

Lucy didn’t see how it could get any ‘worser.’

“If Senora Queen Esther go to the king when he has not called for her, she could be put to the death.”

“What?” Mora said. “That is just wrong!”

“But it is so,” Inez said. She looked from Mora to Lucy and back again, her black eyes shining. “What will you do if this is you?”

Mora opened her mouth, but to Lucy’s surprise, she looked at her.

“What do we do, Lucy?” she said.

“Why are you asking me?”

“Because you always know the right thing to do. You’re like one of these people — ” She wafted a hand toward the Bible. “Only your name’s not as weird as theirs.”

Lucy stared at her.

“Well, you
are,
” Mora said. “I bet you’d go marching in there to King Hottie and tell him to back off your people. You totally would.”