Nobody's Perfect (2 page)

Megan looked up from the task of gluing purple feathers, perplexed by whatever Cindy had said to Matt. She elbowed Cindy and shrugged her shoulders to ask,
What's up?
Cindy repeated Matt's question in sign language, and Megan shook her head and rolled her eyes.

“I know,” said Cindy. “Can you imagine? All you'd get is an e-mail: ‘Come to my party.' ”

“Nobody would come,” Megan replied.

They finished the invitations and stacked them in a box so that Megan could hand them out the next day, their first day back at school.

“I cannot wait to hand out my invitations!” Megan said with excitement.

“I know!” said Cindy, admiring their work on the last invitation before handing it to Megan to store in the box. “I'll help you hand them out if you want.”

“I'm going to need it!” said Megan. With all the invitations, the box was kind of clumsy. “We'll hand them out at the end of the day so that they don't get crushed or anything.”

“And on the first day back at school after winter break,” said Cindy, admiring the feathers and glitter. “Just wait!”

“I know!” Megan agreed. “All the girls are going to freak out!”

“SAY HELLO TO ALEXIS,” MS. ENDEE
announced from the front of the classroom.

Megan, Cindy, and all the other fourth graders had barely been able to concentrate on the morning Pledge of Allegiance. “Alexis Powell” was written in blue marker on the whiteboard at the front of Megan's classroom at Wilmot Elementary. A new girl stood beside her name. She clutched a notebook, her head was cocked shyly, and she shifted her weight from side to side. She had shoulder-length blond hair and a smattering of freckles on her cheeks and nose. At Ms. Endee's prompt, Megan and the rest of the class responded with a singsong “Hello, Alexis!” The girl flipped one hand up and offered a slightly embarrassed smile.

As the classroom chattered excitedly about the new classmate, Megan stared curiously at the girl in front of the room. She was slightly taller than the other girls in class—but not because she was wearing shoes that made her look taller. Megan had already checked out the new girl's shoes. Alexis was wearing hot-pink tennis shoes with, Megan was pleased to see, long purple shoelaces tied in a big double knot. She was also wearing a lightweight sweater—extremely cute—embroidered with tiny white flowers.

“I like her sweater,” Megan signed to Cindy.

“I knew you would,” Cindy signed back. “Me too!”

“It's purple!” signed Megan.

“It's lavender!” Cindy insisted.

“Lavender is purple!” Megan leaned toward Cindy to add in a whisper, “Maybe the new girl is all right.”

“She looks nice to me,” Cindy enthused.

“Class, class, please!” Ms. Endee said loudly, waving her hands in a downward motion. The class settled down and turned forward to pay attention to their teacher.

Megan turned toward Jann, the young woman on the school staff who served as her sign language interpreter. Whenever Ms. Endee addressed the class, Jann would translate her words into sign language so that Megan could understand them. If Megan had something to say in class, Jann would translate Megan's sign language into spoken words for Ms. Endee. It was a pretty efficient system. On top of that, Jann wore bright red fingernail polish and when she signed, it always reminded Megan of little red butterflies fluttering about. She sat at a small desk alongside the whiteboard so that Megan could read the sign language and observe Ms. Endee in action.

Ms. Endee placed a comforting hand on Alexis, the new girl, and issued a bright friendly smile. “It's not easy transferring to a new school in the middle of the year,” the teacher declared, “so I want everyone to put out an extra effort to make Alexis feel welcome.” Gazing about the classroom, she spotted an empty desk and continued, “Why don't you sit over there, Alexis?”

Megan and Cindy exchanged a glance. Ms. Endee was pointing to the empty desk by the small classroom sink that they used for arts and crafts projects and science experiments. That particular desk was considered a prime location—and it usually belonged to Tony Rosenblum.

Alexis was already headed for her new seat when Megan shot her hand into the air and loudly declared, “But, Ms. Endee! That desk belongs to Tony Rosenblum!”

Cindy noticed that the new girl twisted slightly to get a closer look at Megan when she passed by their desks. Megan had an unusual way of speaking because of her deafness. It was easy to understand what Megan was saying, but sometimes her voice sounded a little nasal and she wasn't used to articulating her consonants. Everyone in their class at Wilmot was accustomed to the way Megan spoke—but it probably sounded a little funny to newcomers.

“Never mind about Tony Rosenblum, Megan,” said Ms. Endee. “Although I'm sure he'll appreciate that you watched out for him.”

The students tittered and Megan felt a rush of embarrassment. She sank an inch in her chair. She was only watching out for Ms. Endee; it wasn't like she cared the least bit about Tony Rosenblum.

“I got an e-mail from Tony's parents saying that his family won't return from the holidays for another few days,” Ms. Endee explained. “So Tony will have to get used to a new seat when he returns.” She smiled at Alexis who was just settling into her new desk, and Alexis returned the smile.

“And we now have thirteen girls in our class,” Ms. Endee continued. “We used to have twelve, but Alexis makes thirteen.”

Right,
thought Megan.
Lucky number thirteen!

Megan had already done the math. She had eleven birthday invitations to her Positively Purple Party neatly addressed and assembled in a purple box in her purple backpack; she had only counted on a total of twelve girls at her party, including herself. Did she need to make another invitation? Did she have to invite the new girl? What was she going to do about Alexis?

“Thirteen is a baker's dozen,” added Ms. Endee. She picked up her trusty blue marker and wrote the words “baker's dozen” on the whiteboard. Snapping the cap back onto the marker, she asked, “Does anybody know why we call thirteen a ‘baker's dozen'?”

None of the kids raised a hand. No one had heard the expression before, so nobody had a clue. Ms. Endee often used expressions and vocabulary words that they didn't understand. Then she'd write the word or words on the whiteboard and ask someone to volunteer a definition. No one ever did. Now they waited for Ms. Endee to explain the term herself, as she always did.

Naturally they were surprised when, instead of launching into her own definition, Ms. Endee looked over their heads and said, “Yes, Alexis.” She was looking at the new girl.

Everyone in the classroom turned to look at Alexis—and when they did, they saw that the new girl had raised her hand. In fact, it was still raised. “A baker's dozen is when the baker throws an extra cookie or doughnut or muffin into the box in addition to the dozen already inside,” said Alexis. “The extra cookie or doughnut or muffin makes thirteen. And that's why thirteen is called a baker's dozen.”

“Quite right,” said Ms. Endee, obviously pleased.

Megan and Cindy exchanged another look. Megan raised her eyebrows and rounded her mouth to show that she was very impressed. “The new girl is good,” she signed to Cindy. Cindy giggled, partly because of the jack-o'-lantern look on Megan's face and partly because she loved the way Megan used sign language as secret code in class.

“And this whole discussion of
bakeries
is such a coincidence,” Ms. Endee continued with breezy enthusiasm, “because I have one more surprise for our first day back at school! A little surprise for recess!”

The students shifted excitedly in their seats. Cindy turned toward Megan and signed, “What now?”

Ms. Endee reached behind her desk and then presented a large pink box tied with string and obviously from the bakery. She placed it in the middle of her desk so that the entire class could see it—and naturally, they “oohed” and “aahed.” They could smell the freshly baked cookies at the back of the classroom. Megan turned toward Cindy and shook her hands excitedly, which was her own version of sign language for “Hooray.”

Ms. Endee leaned over the pink bakery box and announced, “Alexis's mother brought cookies to school with Alexis today. I'm going to distribute them at recess, and I want each and every student to make a point of introducing themselves and thanking Alexis before they eat that cookie.”

The class chattered with excitement. Megan twisted in her seat to wave and smile at Alexis. But Alexis was the only student in the classroom who wasn't wild with excitement about the promise of cookies at recess. Alexis sat in her chair with a sweet smile, but she gazed down at the desk as though she didn't want all the attention she was getting.

Megan tilted her head thoughtfully to one side as she considered the new girl. Megan hardly knew Alexis at all except that the girl was smart with cool clothes and that she had a mom who knew about cookies. Megan also liked the fact that the new girl seemed a little shy. It was better than being stuck up. Megan was eager to get to know her better.

•  •  •

When the recess bell finally rang, the students pushed to Ms. Endee's desk to raid the box of cookies. Jann had placed a stack of napkins next to the box and given the stack a twist with her fist so that it spiraled into a fun pattern. “A cookie
and
a napkin,” Jann admonished. “A cookie
and
a napkin.” By the time Megan and Cindy reached the box, only a few cookies were left.

“I got oatmeal raisin,” said Megan, wrinkling her nose. “I hate oatmeal raisin.”

“I got peanut butter,” said Cindy, wrinkling her nose as well.

“The boys ran off with all the chocolate chips,” said Megan with a sniff. She didn't know it for a fact, but it was a fair guess and probably true.

“I'll swap peanut butter for oatmeal,” said Cindy, holding out her cookie.

The offer made sense to Megan, and she agreed. “That's why we're best friends,” Megan said as she and Cindy swapped cookies.

As they nibbled their cookies, Megan and Cindy headed down the hallway and descended the concrete steps that led to the playground. “What do you think of the new girl?” said Cindy, being careful not to have a mouthful when Megan was reading her lips.

Megan was already searching the playground for Alexis. “We're supposed to say hello and thank her for the cookies,” she said.

“What's her name again?” said Cindy.

“Alexis,” said Megan. “Alexis Powell.” She finger-spelled the letters of Alexis's last name so that Cindy got it right.

“How'd you know how to spell it?” asked Cindy.

“Ms. Endee wrote it on the whiteboard!” signed Megan, with an edge of exasperation. Cindy was her best friend, but at times Megan suspected that Cindy was difficult on purpose.

The two girls scanned the playground for any sign of Alexis. Suddenly Megan thumped Cindy's shoulder and pointed to the far end of the blacktop. Together the girls looked just in time to see Alexis running at the head of a pack of fifth-grade kids who were playing soccer. Alexis outdistanced the other players with a shuffle step—a quick and efficient one-two-three like she knew exactly what she was doing. She tossed her blond hair over her shoulder and held her ground as two boys advanced on her with the soccer ball. Alexis faked to her left and landed a solid side kick on the soccer ball that sent it scurrying down the length of the field.

Megan and Cindy turned to look at each other, and when they did, their mouths were hanging open, full of cookie.

Megan swallowed before she spoke. “The new girl can play soccer,” she said.

“I know,” said Cindy, nodding and nibbling.

A couple other girls from class clustered around them as they watched Alexis charge downfield on the offensive toward the fifth-grade boy playing goalie for the other team. Alexis could really run and the girls groaned appreciatively when she elbowed a fifth grader out of her path.

“She's tough,” said Megan.

“And she's smart,” added Tracy.

“And she's nice,” said Cindy, returning to her cookie.

“And I
love
her sweater,” said Megan. She glanced at the other girls to make sure they were all in agreement. The girls nodded. They all agreed. Alexis Powell was really something.

Megan took another bite of cookie and turned back toward the field. She didn't want to miss what happened when Alexis reached the goalie.

“She's practically perfect,” Megan said thoughtfully. She repeated the new girl's name, practicing the way Ms. Endee had written it on the whiteboard. “Alexis Powell.”

•  •  •

The moment Alexis stepped off the soccer field, Megan and the other girls had her surrounded.

“So, Alexis—,” one girl began.

“Thanks for the cookies,” interjected another.

“Way to kick the ball!” said Cindy.

“Thanks,” said Alexis with a shy smile.

Megan burst through their ranks. “And I really like your shoelaces!” she said with a burst of enthusiasm. She pointed at Alexis's purple shoelaces and tugged at her own purple sweatshirt so that Alexis could see that they were both wearing the same color.

All the girls laughed—except for Alexis.

“Um, thanks,” said Alexis, somewhat distracted. “Are we back in class yet?”

“Five more minutes!” said Megan, smiling about the whole shoelace thing.

“Great,” said Alexis, somewhat cool. She glanced past Megan to the other girls. “So do you bring lunch to this school or is the cafeteria okay?”

“On some days the cafeteria is okay,” said Cindy, “but on other days the food is scary.”