The Candy Smash (13 page)

"Nope. She's here somewhere." The kids in 4-O had all settled down to their morning work, but a few desks were empty. Evan noticed that Jessie, Megan, Chaz, and Sarah were all missing. He was glad Megan was out. Evan didn't want to have to deal with his friends making jokes about Megan and him on Valentine's Day. Plus, he didn't want to see the hurt look on her face when he ignored her. All in all, it was good that she was absent. Even though there was a part of him that felt disappointed.

A few minutes later both Jessie and Megan walked into the classroom and took their seats.

"Girls, you're late," said Mrs. Overton, then stopped when she caught sight of Megan's face. "Don't let it happen again, okay?"

"Mrs. Overton?" said Jessie. "Can I stay in at recess and work on my newspaper? I need to fix a few things before I hand it out. It's a special Valentine's Day edition."

"Ooooh," said Scott Spencer, and some of the boys laughed. Evan stared at his morning work paper. He was not going to get involved in this conversation.

"Jessie, are you going to tell us about the survey?" asked Rachel.

"Yeah, we want to know about that. You promised," said Taffy.

Jessie smiled and faced the class. "Yes. The full—and accurate—results of the survey will be included on the front page of the newspaper. Along with some special features. First, a sweet mystery will be solved"—Jessie looked straight at Megan when she said this—"
and
there will be a poem by a surprise poet."

Evan watched as Jessie turned her gaze on him and flashed him a smile.

"What survey?" asked Mrs. Overton.

"A love survey!" shouted Scott Spencer. And the boys started making kissing noises and whooping it up.

"Jessie?"

"It's just a survey I handed out. All the kids answered it. Mrs. Feeney said it was okay!" Evan listened as Jessie's voice got squeaky in the way it did when she was nervous.

Mrs. Overton stared straight at Jessie, then tapped her pencil on her desktop. "I want to see your newspaper before you hand it out, okay? I'll look at it during recess. Meanwhile"—she turned her attention to the whole class—"I wanted to update you on the boxes of candy hearts that I collected from you on Friday."

"Confiscated!" shouted Scott Spencer, whose mother was a lawyer.

"Private property," called out David K.

"Power to the people!" yelled out Malik, then shrugged his shoulders to show he was just goofing around.

"Excuse me," said Mrs. Overton, lifting one eyebrow in the way she did when she was warning them to settle down. Evan always marveled at this technique. He'd never met anyone who could lift one eyebrow as high as Mrs. Overton. "As I was saying, I spoke with Mrs. Fletcher and she in turn spoke with the superintendent, and it has been decided that because we do not know the
source
of the candy, we cannot allow you to
have
the candy."

"Oh, come on!" shouted several of the kids in the class.

"It's just candy, for crying out loud!" said Ray.

"And it's Valentine's Day," said Salley.

"Yeah!" shouted most of the class in agreement.

"Enough! As I said, it has been decided." Mrs. Overton looked severely around the room.

Good,
thought Evan.
No more stupid candy hearts.

Jessie raised her hand. "Mrs. Overton, what if we did know where the candy came from? Would that make a difference?"

Mrs. Overton looked at her, perplexed. "Jessie, do you want to talk with me privately?"

"No." Jessie's face had that blank-slate look that left most people confused. But Evan knew that something was going on inside Jessie's head.

"Well," said Mrs. Overton. "I suppose it might make a difference if we knew who left the candy. Or maybe not. It would depend."

Just then a voice came over the PA announcing that an assembly for the lower grades had been canceled. When the announcement ended, Mrs. Overton told them to break into their rainforest groups. They were going to continue working on their group projects.

Evan looked around the room for his group and found them gathering at the back table. But his mind wasn't on the great kapok tree as he joined them. He was wondering why Jessie had looked straight at him when she mentioned the surprise poem in the newspaper? Was it a poem that Evan particularly liked?

And then an awful thought came to him. What if it was the framed poem he had given to Grandma? Jessie must have noticed it on Grandma's dresser and copied it to put in the paper. For everyone to see. Evan's head sank into his hands, and he groaned.

kill
(v) to
not
publish a story or newspaper that is ready (or close to ready) for publication

 

It didn't take a super detective to figure out that Mrs. Overton was not going to let Jessie hand out her newspaper to the class. Jessie didn't understand why, but there was something about this love stuff that made people act crazy. One look at Mrs. Overton's face when she'd heard "love survey" told Jessie that Mrs. Overton was going to put an end to this extra credit project before it even happened. She was going to kill the Valentine's Day issue of
The 4-O Forum,
and Jessie couldn't bear that thought. All her hard work—counting up the surveys, writing the articles, digging through the boys' trash—all for nothing. She would never have another front-page story like this one. A story that
everybody
would want to read. It was her one chance to be a star reporter, just like her dad. Even if her statistics were a little bit off, it was now or never.

"Well," said Jessie to the empty classroom. "I guess it's time to break some eggs." So while Mrs. Overton met with the principal to try to figure out what to do about the canceled assembly, Jessie walked out to the hallway and retrieved the bag of newspapers from her locker. Then she put on her hat, scarf, mittens, coat, and boots and headed out to the playground.
I'll be like one of those old-fashioned newsboys,
she thought, and imagined standing in the middle of the playground, shouting, "Extra! Extra! Read all about it!"

As she approached the picnic tables, Jessie surveyed the scene. Almost half the class was playing a sloppy game of soccer on the far end of the playground. There didn't seem to be real teams; it looked like everyone was running over the packed-down snow, chasing after the ball just to keep warm. About ten kids were swarming over the Green Machine, which was the large painted metal climbing structure in the middle of the playground. The last four or five kids were on the swings, hanging on to the cold metal chains as if their mittens were frozen on solid. Except for David Kirkorian. He was walking around the perimeter of the playground by himself, which is what he usually did during recess.

Jessie watched as Megan jumped off her swing and ran over to her.

"Jessie!" said Megan. "What did you mean when you said a mystery was going to be solved? What mystery?" Jessie looked at Megan's face and could tell that she was worried. Worry was an easy feeling to spot.

"The mystery of the candy hearts," said Jessie. "I know who sent them."

Megan stared back blankly, her mouth slightly open. After a minute, she asked, "Who?"

"You! I finally figured it out. All the clues were there. But first I had to figure out that
you
were the one who wrote the message in the bathroom. As soon as I figured that out, then I knew that you were the one who gave the candy hearts."

Megan shook her head. "How?"

"Easy. The Mystery Candy-Giver wrote
true
messages on everyone's hearts. Evan's hearts said
I LOVE YOU
. They had to be from you because you love Evan." Jessie crossed her arms, the mystery solved. "Plus, you wrote
GOOD IDEAS
on my hearts, and that's what you wrote on my comment card at the end of last summer. Remember?"

Jessie reached into her pocket and pulled out the comment card that she had saved so carefully for all these months.

 

 

"And"—she raised her index finger like a wise philosopher—"your uncle owns a candy factory." Then Jessie smiled and held up a copy of the newspaper and showed Megan the front-page story.

"It's all in there?" asked Megan, looking miserable.

"Yep," said Jessie proudly. "Everyone's going to know—you're the one who gave them the candy! They're going to love you!"

"Jessie! Don't you see? Everyone's going to
know!"
Megan's face went wobbly, and Jessie noticed tears pooling in her eyes. Was Megan crying? Why would she cry?

But before she could ask, Evan came barreling over. "Jessie, I need to talk to you. Alone."

He grabbed Jessie's arm and started to pull her away, but stopped when Jessie said, "Megan's crying."

Evan turned to look at Megan. "Why is
she
crying?"

"Because she's the one who gave everyone the candy hearts and..." Jessie shrugged her shoulders.
There was just no way to make sense out of any of this love stuff.

"You?" said Evan, his voice rising in anger. "You're the one who wrote those messages?"

Megan nodded weakly.

alliteration
(n) when the same letter or sound occurs at the beginning of words that are next to each other or nearby

 

Evan took a step back from Jessie and Megan and drove his hands into the pockets of his coat. "Well, that was just not nice. I mean, I don't
care,
but if you're going to write personal messages to everyone in the class, then you shouldn't leave one person out."

Megan shook her head in disgust. "I didn't, you dumb jerk."

"Yes, you did!" Evan was really angry now. His hearts were just store bought while everyone else's were made especially for them. He couldn't even show them to anyone! He'd had to hide them away or throw them in the trash. And it was
Megan
who had done such a mean thing? He had thought they were friends. He had liked her.
Like
-liked her.

Megan wasn't crying now. She looked like she was going to punch him in the nose. "Those messages
were
just for you. You were the only one who got them. They were the most special of all."

Evan stopped. What was she saying? He thought back to the three boxes of candy hearts he'd received.
FOR YOU. BE MINE. I
YOU
.

Suddenly, Evan's stomach dropped down to his ankles. "Oh," was all he said. Then he crossed his arms and stared off at his friends playing soccer.

"What's going on?" Jessie looked first at Megan and then at Evan. "Why are you both so mad at each other? I thought you
liked
each other!"

"I guess not," said Megan sharply.

"Well," said Evan. But he couldn't think of a thing to say. It was as if every word in his brain had packed up and headed south to Florida for the winter.

"Show her the poem," said Jessie, reaching into her grocery bag.

Evan lunged for the bag and ripped it out of Jessie's hands so that she was left holding a single paper handle. "Hey! You can't do that!" she shouted, waving the torn handle, but Evan had already pulled out one of the newspapers and stuffed the grocery bag under his arm. He turned his back on the two girls and scanned the front page.

There it was.

Out in the open.

For everyone to see.

His poem. His love poem to Megan Moriarty.

copyright
(n) the exclusive legal right of the author of a work to publish the work or allow someone else to publish it

 

Jessie took off after Evan. He was a much faster runner than she was, and he'd gotten a head start, so when she rounded the back of the school, he was out of sight. Jessie kept running until she came to the kindergarten playground, which was all the way on the other side of the school. The big kids weren't allowed on the kindergarten playground, but Jessie spotted Evan tucked into a corner of a wall, protected from the wind and out of sight of anyone in the school. He was reading one of her newspapers, with the grocery bag full of papers at his feet.