Sticks & Stones (5 page)

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Authors: Abby Cooper

BOOK: Sticks & Stones
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We had the same little show-and-tell session each year of elementary school. To remind people, I guess. It got a lot more boring as I got older. Dr. Patel just babbled on and on about CAV, and whatever teacher I had made the same serious-consequences statement. Stickers didn't matter as much as we got older, but there was always something that did.

On the first day of middle school, Mr. Todd had called me into his office to ask if I'd like him to keep the show-and-tell tradition going. He had already been filled in about CAV from old teachers and Dr. Patel.

Obviously the answer to that was a big fat no-thank-you. CAV used to be cool, but now it was embarrassing. If I just wore my long sleeves and my long pants, maybe everyone would forget I had it. I'd be called names because of them forgetting, probably, but being itchy was better than being embarrassed.

Mom found out I said no, of course, and
begged
me—practically forced me—to change my mind. The only way I could calm her down was to agree to carry a travel-size lotion at all times and put Dr. Patel on speed dial on my cell phone.

The only thing I'd miss about the class talks was getting a picture from Nice Andy afterward. I still had some of them. Once, he gave me a giant piece of paper that said “U R SO NIS” above a picture of two stick people holding hands, surrounded by hearts. After another show-and-tell, the paper said, “CAV is ok and grate” next to a picture of me in a cape that said “Super CAV Girl.” In another, the line of nice words turned into a paragraph, and Super CAV Girl got eyebrows, pierced ears, a magic wand, a crown, and her own unicorn.

I used to show the pictures to Jeg. “Cool,” she'd say. Then she'd say something like, “Let's go read a book. You can do the characters' voices. You're great at voices!”

Even though Jeg protected me from mean kids and bad words, she wasn't nice to me
because
I had CAV. She was nice to me just because that's how she was. Nice Andy made me great pictures. Smiled at me. Gave me compliments. But sometimes I wondered if he really knew anything about me at all.

 

9

STRING CHEESE

Hey, Self—

I'm baaaack! Did you miss me?

You probably remember this, but in case you don't, there was another blue piece of paper stuck to my locker yesterday. It was folded about a zillion times so it fit perfectly in the palm of my hand. Like the first one, the message inside was typed.

This time, though, I didn't wait for Jeg to tell me when it was okay to open it. (Remember?)

In fact, I didn't tell her about it at all.

Instead, I ripped it open right then and there, and it's taped in here so I can keep it forever.

Hi Elyse,

Here's an idea for you: stop thinking so much and
do things
. This will make you feel much better about yourself, and could lead to you getting chosen as Explorer Leader, too. Even though you lost the foot-in-the-air competition, you still have a chance!

It was an awesome note to get. So now I just have to do things and this person will make sure I get Explorer Leader. No problem.

Well, hopefully no problem. The truth is that the idea of doing more stuff makes my insides a little squirmy.

Mom knows something is up, because she keeps putting her face
way
too close to my face and asking, “Are you okay?” in that hushed tone where she knows something is seriously wrong but doesn't want to come right out and ask me what it is. (I hope she has stopped doing that by the time you read this someday.) The fact of the matter is, I feel pretty darn alone. I would have figured that out even if
LONER FREAK
hadn't sprouted across my leg last week when I was in the shower.

I have to stop thinking. I have to focus on doing things that will get Mr. Todd's attention. That will show him that I'm the best choice—the only choice—for Explorer Leader, and for that giant compliment-filled poster. And it'll show the note writer, too.

Oh, and, Self, you should probably know that you started going out with Nice Andy. I mean, you do know, obviously. But are you still going out? I'm so curious! You probably remember the whole romantic story, but in case you need a refresher, it all started with string cheese (as all good romantic stories should, I think).

“Do you like cheese?” he asked one day after an especially frustrating hour of math with Mrs. Catalano, and I nodded eagerly because, duh, cheese is awesome. “I stole the string cheese from my little brother's lunch box! Major score! Okay, I asked him for it! But still, he said okay and I got some and here it is!” He handed over a package.

Now, here's a guy who appreciates me,
I thought. Yeah, he is a little too nice, but he gave me cheese. Liam never gave me cheese. And the rest is history.

There is a chance that I might still like Liam, just a teeny tiny, microscopic little bit. I wouldn't admit that to anyone else but you. He may have never given me cheese, but he did give me gum. Plus, he's the weirdest guy I know, and the best. Besides Nice Andy, I mean.

Anyway, I don't know when you'll read this, but I hope things will be better then.

Goals:

1. Find out who's writing those notes!

2. Be nicer to Nice Andy because he is a real live guy who likes me and gives me cheese.

3. Stop caring about everything Liam says and does and also his overall existence.

4. Stop missing Jeg. She hardly talks to me now. She's too busy with her new friends.

5. Get some friends. (No, awesome books and/or socks do not count.)

6. Stop thinking so much and just do things—especially things that will help me become Explorer Leader.

Also, today I bought a pink-lemonade-flavored Chapstick and it looks excellent on me even though technically it is clear. I just thought you should know.

From,

October Self

*   *   *

I sat back in my seat as the morning announcements began.

“Hey there, it's your princi-
pal,
coming to you live from the front office.” I could practically hear Mr. Todd grinning through the intercom. “A special message for sixth graders today—I want to give you fair warning that I'm almost finished reviewing your attendance and grade reports for the first month of school, and the students who come out on top will be interviewed for Explorer Leader sometime in the next few weeks. Congratulations to Ami Kowalski, who is guaranteed an interview after her win at the first competition. There are still five more spots up for grabs. I also want to remind you about the fund-raising show. November is not as far away as it seems! We have only a few acts signed up so far and would really like to get some more.”

The fund-raising show had been announced on the first day of school. We could do anything we wanted, as long as it was appropriate and not that horrible to sit through—and people would have to pay five dollars to see it. All the money would be put toward our Minnesota trip.

People were excited about the show, but everyone knew it was one of those things that was really made for cool people to feel cooler and weird people to feel weirder, like school dances. Sure, I'd been playing piano forever and had performed in about a zillion recitals, but that didn't mean I needed to do it in front of everybody at school. If I signed up, the whole order of the universe would be messed up, and a lot of people would be really confused. I didn't want to be responsible for that kind of social destruction, so that would not be happening. But an interview with Mr. Todd? That, I would love to do.

The room started getting noisy after Mr. Todd finished the rest of his announcements, but Ms. Sigafiss held up a hand.

“Moving on. We're going to do another introduction.” Ms. Sigafiss had started this on the first day of school. She said it was good for kids in middle school to get to know people from different elementary schools. I thought it was a pretty cool thing to do. After all, there were thirty-ish people in our class, and I only knew around ten of them. Maybe there were some nice people in English with me and I didn't even know it. “Today we will listen to Olivia,” she said without even bothering to see whose hands were actually raised.

“Um, okay!” Olivia said. She stood and rubbed her hands on her faded jeans. “So I'm Olivia, which you already know … I went to Hoover Elementary. My best friends are my five brothers and sisters. My favorite sport is soccer, and my favorite colors are hot pink and turquoise.”

Wow. She was really cool. I'd love to be friends with her, but would she want to be friends with me? And would I even be able to get a chance to talk to her before the Loud Crowd sucked her in?

While I was thinking about it, Lindsey had already complimented Olivia's shiny black hair (she wore it in lots of little braids running down her back with purple beads at the bottom), and now they were chatting away like they'd been best friends for a thousand years.

“Thanks, Olivia,” Ms. Sigafiss said. “We'll do another one tomorrow.”

“Can I go tomorrow?” Lindsey's hand shot up.

Ms. Sigafiss glared at her. “Maybe,” she said.

Lindsey put her hand down and whispered something to Snotty Ami.

“Quiet!” Ms. Sigafiss grumbled. “No speaking unless you're spoken to.” She grabbed a red dry-erase marker and started writing something on the whiteboard. “Get your response journals,” she said without taking her eyes off the board. “We will be working on these questions silently for the next fifteen minutes.”

We all made a beeline to the basket of journals in the corner of the room. When I made it to the front of the line, I sifted through the few that were left and grabbed my green notebook. It was identical to all the rest except for a white label in the left-hand corner with my name on it.

And except for a little piece of blue paper sticking out like a bookmark.

What?

My throat went totally dry and my heartbeat sped up. I didn't put a bookmark in my reader response journal when I used it a week ago. And I definitely didn't put in a blue bookmark that looked an awful lot like one of those mysterious notes.

I peered up at Ms. Sigafiss before removing the paper. Her back was still facing us since she was writing the questions on the board, which meant it was probably as safe as it was going to get. I took a deep breath as I tugged at the edges of the paper and opened it up.

Holy high heels.

There were teeny typed words on the paper, just like the last one. And my name was at the top.

Elyse,

If you want to feel better, introduce yourself to someone new, someone who you've never talked to before. I don't care who it is. I do care that you do it as soon as possible. If you get an interview, doing this will help you be more comfortable during the conversation!

I folded up the paper but then opened it again to make sure I had read it right and wasn't going bonkers. I scanned the room, not sure who or what I was looking for. No one looked back at me. I had just experienced something creepy and unexplainable for the third time—but to everyone else, nothing had changed.

I kinda wanted to tell Jeg, but I'd never be able to get to her with the Loud Crowd around her all the time. Plus, she probably wouldn't want to hear from me anyway, and I was still kinda mad at her, too. I could tell Nice Andy, but he'd probably want to tell Ms. Sigafiss or one of our other teachers or Mr. Todd. I could tell Mom, but she'd probably want to tell the police.

It's kind of weird how getting a mysterious note written especially for you can make you feel so alone.

I read the message again, and then I read it about a million more times until I could practically recite it by heart. Finally, I stuffed the paper in my pocket and tried to answer Ms. Sigafiss's questions in my reading journal, but it was no use. All I could do was think about how bad I wanted to take the note out again.

The idea of introducing myself to someone new was seriously scary. I wanted to know new people, but I wanted to magically know them without having to do the awkward first-conversation thing. Besides, it kinda seemed like all the girls from the two other elementary schools that had combined with ours wanted to be in the Loud Crowd. Any of them I went up to would laugh in my face.

Although, if this note-writer person really could help me be Explorer Leader, a little laugh in my face might be worth it in the long run. Without bothering to look down at my sleeves covering the words etched on my arms, I
knew
it would be worth it. I needed to be popular so I could get good names. And being Explorer Leader was the only way to make it happen. I had to get one of those interviews, and I had to knock it out of the park.

*   *   *

At lunchtime, I threw open the bathroom door and stopped dead in my tracks. Olivia was sitting on my bench.

For a minute, I just stared, a little annoyed. This was
my
secret spot, and the last thing I felt like doing was talking to someone. Or giving up the bench.

But then I remembered the note.
If you want to feel better, introduce yourself to someone new.
This would probably be the best chance I'd have. I guess it wouldn't kill me.

“Hey,” Olivia said, looking at the book in my left hand and the brown bag in my right. “Looks like we had the same idea.”

“Yeah, I guess!” I gulped. I could do this. I talked to people all the time. And I also sometimes said my name. I could probably do the two together, if I stayed calm long enough to get the words out. “Um, I'm Elyse. We haven't really gotten to meet yet.”
Hooray for me; I did it!

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