School Squad, page 4
When the girls finally stopped squealing, Maisy said, “You guys! I brought a present from camp. Our Genius Whisperer!”
I took a deep breath, smoothed down my hair, and adjusted my sunglasses before walking down the stone path to the pool area. This was it. The moment that would guarantee me entrée into the M & Ms or seal my fate as a middle school reject.
Time slowed to a crawl. I stepped onto the manicured lawn. The only sound was the water flowing over the rock fountain into the pool and my flip-flops slapping against the bottoms of my feet as I walked toward the M & Ms.
No one said a word. They all stared at me with blank looks. It’s not like I expected them to give me the same welcome they had given Maisy, but I didn’t know what to do with their silence. I looked at Maisy, but she looked just as confused as I was.
Finally, Mia stepped forward.
She said, “Hi, I’m Mia,” with a little half wave.
I froze because I knew exactly who Mia was. She was the first person to break the principal’s cardinal rule about inviting all the girls from class to her birthday party last year. Her mother had argued that the final year of elementary school was the optimal time to learn how to cope with the harsh realities of social hierarchy. Needless to say, I hadn’t been invited to that party.
Supermodel-tall Meghan leaned down to my paltry average height. “You look so familiar. Were we on swim team together at the club a couple years back?”
Madison shook her head. “That was Will Flanagan’s cousin who was visiting from Ireland.”
I had known Madison and Meghan since day care. How could one year of invisibility erase my entire identity?
Maisy laughed a little too loud. “Clark Rutner isn’t the only Glow Up of the Year. You guys, this is Bea.”
Mia leaned in closer and ran her palm over my hair. “O… M… G! Bea Thompson? Is that you under those sunglasses and amazing hair?”
I took a deep breath, then pushed the sunglasses on top of my head. Next thing I knew, I was surrounded by all the girls touching my hair and oohing and aahing like I was a new puppy.
“What salon did you go to? I’ve been begging my mom for a keratin treatment,” said Meghan, whose hair is admittedly a little prone to frizz, but nothing a little flat-ironing can’t control. She was also blessed with the perfect amount of freckles, dainty little ones sprinkled across the bridge of her nose and cheeks, unlike mine that merged into melanin blobs with the slightest bit of sun exposure.
“Our camp counselor did it. She’s in college, but she and Bea are like this.” Maisy folded her middle finger over her pointer.
Mia couldn’t stop petting my hair. “That’s so cool.”
“Totally cool,” Madison said.
Madison is average height, and her limp brown hair hangs down on both sides of her forehead, not too long, not too short. Her appearance fits her role as mouse of the group, the one who was always angling to keep her spot even though she had been friends with these girls her whole life.
“Yeah, so cool,” mumbled Chloe, who was clearly looking to Madison for her every move. She was even wearing the same exact bathing suit as Madison, with white nautical rope tied up the sides, but in red rather than blue.
Mia ran her index finger across my cheekbone. “Where did your freckles go?”
“Good foundation can fix anything,” Maisy said.
“You know Clark?” asked Madeline.
“We’re in all the same classes,” I said.
“And don’t forget Robotics Club,” Maisy piped in.
Madeline narrowed her eyes at me. She was the smartest of all the M & Ms. If anyone was going to bust us, it was Madeline.
“Penelope Green’s in all the same classes with Todd Montgomery, but that doesn’t mean he would actually talk to her,” she said.
Mia nodded. “Agreed.”
“Bea, send him a Snap,” Maisy said.
That sounded much easier than it actually was. I hadn’t used Snapchat since Maisy and I stopped being friends. As soon as I opened the app on my phone, I was lost. I stared at the screen, willing it to tell me what to do.
Maisy grabbed my phone. “This new stupid iPhone update is literally the worst. It kept freezing up Bea’s phone on the way home from camp.”
Meghan scratched at a mosquito bite on one of her impossibly long legs. “I’m terrified of updates. I keep ignoring the reminders.”
Madeline grimaced. “Your phone’s gonna crash.”
Meanwhile, Maisy slid her finger across my screen, got it set up to Snap Clark, and handed it back to me.
I shot her a look of gratitude before taking a selfie and adding the caption, Signed up for robotics!
Madeline grabbed my phone right out of my hand. “Why don’t you have anyone on your Snapchat feed?”
I shrugged, easing myself into this new role where I told lie after lie to stay afloat. “That update completely cleared my feed.”
“See, guys! This is why I never update,” Meghan said.
I said a silent prayer to the tech gods that Meghan’s phone wouldn’t crash because of me.
My phone pinged. I opened up a picture of Clark standing on his diving board with the sun shining on his blond highlights. The message read, Like the new hair, across his golden abs.
“Whoa!” Meghan held up both of her hands. “He really is the Glow Up of the Year.”
“And Bea really is our Genius Whisperer,” Mia said.
MAISY
Last summer, I hated being around Mom. I never knew how she was going to act or what kind of mood she was going to be in. Dad was always at work, Addy was always at the gym, and Bea was away for six weeks at Camp Amelia, which left me stuck with Mom by myself.
I rode my bike to the Mapleton Country Club every morning as soon as it opened. I watched the pool moms spray down their kids with sunscreen, help them with their goggles, and feed them snacks. I would set up my towel near one of the normal families and imagine I was going home with them at the end of the day. I used to have that mom, but I didn’t know if I would ever get her back.
I stayed at the club every day until Dad texted me that he was on his way home from work. It didn’t matter that I couldn’t swim, or that I had no one to hang out with while Bea was at camp. The only thing I cared about was getting as far away from Mom as possible.
Then, one day Madison, walking past me at the pool, asked me where I got my bathing suit. Next thing I knew, I was hanging out with the M & Ms at their spot near the snack bar. We spent hours taking selfies, looking at back-to-school clothes online, and scrolling Instagram while we ate ketchup-drenched fries, greasy grilled cheeses, and icy slushies. I finally stopped thinking about Mom every second of the day.
Bea was sitting on the edge of the diving board with Madeline, who was adding all of the Snapchat contacts she thought Bea lost in her imaginary phone update.
“Don’t forget your sunblock!” I called.
“OMG! You sound like my mother,” Madison said, in a snarky tone.
Chloe tilted her head back and laughed, like Madison just said the funniest thing ever.
I don’t know what annoyed me more, that Chloe had stolen the spot I had carved out for Bea or that she followed Madison around, copying everything she did and said. She looked so desperate, and it made me worry that I had looked the exact same way when I started hanging out with the M & Ms last summer.
“Maisy was the sunblock police at camp,” Bea said, for the second time that day. Only this time she didn’t say it like it was a good thing.
As much as I wanted to sass Bea back, I held it in. Bea forgave me for being a huge jerk last year, and now it was my turn to be the bigger person. Madison, on the other hand, was being annoying. She thought she was so cool just because Chloe was following her around.
“Toss me some of that sunblock, Maisy,” Madeline said. “I bet you girls didn’t know black girls can burn.”
I walked over to Madeline and handed her the sunblock since I have really bad aim.
“Snap Clark again, Bea,” Madeline said. “Hopefully he’ll send another bathing suit pic.”
Bea smoothed her hair down and sat up straight on the diving board. She sucked in her cheeks, making her lips all pouty, and took a selfie. For someone who didn’t know how to use Snapchat half an hour ago, she was really getting into it.
Two seconds later she held up her phone. “He Snapped back.”
Mia ran over. “Show us!”
We all crowded around Bea’s phone.
“Is he seriously reading on one of the last days of summer vacation?” Meghan asked.
“But he’s so cute doing it,” Madeline said with a sigh.
“Does it really matter what he’s doing?” Bea asked. “He’s shirtless.”
Bea had picked up the M & Ms’ language just as quickly as she had learned Spanish in first grade.
Clark held up a book with a bright yellow cover that said Steel Trap: A How-to Book for Humans Trying to Make It in the Robotics World.
Madison leaned over Bea’s shoulder. “Um… What does that even mean?”
“Yeah, what does that mean?” Chloe echoed.
Bea took a selfie with a thumbs-up and captioned it, Tim Landon is goals!
Madeline stared at Bea. “Who is Tim Landon and why is he goals?”
“Tim Landon’s the next Steve Jobs. This is the summer pick for his book club,” Bea said.
Mia laughed. “Good call on the Genius Whisperer, Maisy.”
“Yeah, good call,” Madison said.
My phone vibrated against my leg. I picked it up and almost dropped it when I saw who was texting me.
From: Mom
To: Maisy
Earned phone privileges. You don’t have to text back. Just wanted to let you know I’m here if you want to talk.
I held my breath as the little dots showed up like Mom was texting more, but then they disappeared. My head starting buzzing like it was filled with seltzer bubbles.
“I need to go,” I mumbled to Bea, not loud enough for the other girls to hear.
Bea’s phone pinged. “OMG, you guys! How cute is this?”
The girls crowded around Bea’s phone and drooled over a picture of Clark cuddling with a fluffy little white dog.
“Does it get any cuter?” yelled Madeline.
“I know!” Bea shrieked. Then she turned to me. “Did you say something, Maisy?”
I swallowed hard. “Don’t worry about it,” I said.
But I don’t think she heard me.
CHAPTER SIX
BEA
A COUPLE OF HOURS LATER, MAISY AND I CLIMBED OFF A GIGANTIC inflatable pizza slice. We didn’t even need to towel off because we had stuck to our mission not to actually get wet in the pool.
“We have to go,” Maisy said, while she pulled on her jean shorts. “My grandma’s staying with us and she’s super annoying.”
Mia called out from her perch on the unicorn float, “We’re all wearing red the first day.”
“It’s a power color.” Madeline looked up from her phone. “I read about it on Snapchat.”
“It’s going to be our signature color this year,” Meghan said.
“But it has to be Poppy Red,” Mia added.
I couldn’t tell if this directive was aimed at me or just Maisy, so while Maisy nodded, I jutted my chin up the tiniest bit so that it could be interpreted as a nod or a tic.
“Byeeee!” called the girls in unison, as Maisy and I opened the gate.
“Byeeee!” Maisy called back. I joined in on the tail end of the “eeeee” so that I didn’t sound too desperate.
As soon as we pedaled our bikes down the driveway, I asked, “Do I wear red on the first day or is that too presumptuous? But if I don’t wear it and the offer was actually for me too, then won’t it look like I don’t want to be part of the group?”
Maisy’s voice was dull. “Yes.”
“To which part?” I asked.
Maisy made a sharp right out of Mia’s driveway and mumbled, “Wear red.”
Maisy took off so fast I had to pump my legs to catch up to her. “But are you just saying that as a strategy to push my way into the group? Or do you think Mia was actually including me?”
“Stop overthinking everything,” Maisy snapped.
I pedaled harder to get in front of her and then I planted my bike across the sidewalk so she was trapped. “What’s going on with you?” I asked.
Maisy sighed. “What’re you talking about?”
“This is usually the moment when you brag about your plan,” I said. “Which, I have to admit, is pretty amazing.”
Maisy loosened the strap under her helmet. “I’m tired. Just this morning we were at Camp Amelia.”
I scooted my bike closer to hers. “Now that we’re back in Mapleton, you’re going to start hiding things again? Isn’t that how we got into this mess in the first place?”
Maisy’s eyes grew wide. “How’d you know?”
“You’ve been really quiet for the last hour. What happened?” I asked.
Maisy pulled her phone out of her bike basket and handed it to me.
She looked down at the ground while I read the text from her mom.
“Are you going to text back?” I asked.
Maisy took her phone back. “So she can think everything’s okay? It’s her fault I have to share a room with Addy and that Grandma’s all up in my business.”
“You’re going to have to talk to her eventually,” I said. “Like when she comes home.”
“I’m not talking to her until I have to, and she’s not coming home for a while,” Maisy said. “Let’s go before Grandma sends the police looking for us.”
“No more secrets, okay?” I said. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”
Maisy took off toward her house without answering. She didn’t even wave goodbye when I turned off on my street.
As I got closer to my house, I saw a gray Prius pulling out of the driveway. I wiped away the image of Mr. Pembrook hanging out with Mom while I was gone. I couldn’t wait to show Mom my makeover.
Mom and Mr. Pebbles were waiting for me on the living room couch. I walked into the room and twirled around so they could get the full effect of the new me.
Mom ran over to me, her eyes welling up with tears. “What did you do to your curls?”
She ran her hands from the crown of my head to the ends of my hair. It felt completely different from when the M & Ms were petting my hair and saying how beautiful it was.
“You don’t like it?” I heard my voice soar an octave higher.
Mom’s own curls bounced with emphasis as she said, “I love your curls. They’re part of you.”
“It only lasts three months,” I said.
“Three months!” Mom cried. “And since when do you wear makeup?”
“You always tell me to do things that make me feel good about myself.” I waved my hands over my face and hair. “This makes me feel good.”
She sighed. “It’s not that I don’t like your new look, Bea. I just have to get used to it.”
“I know you always liked us having our big curly hair together,” I said.
Mom put her hands on my cheeks and lifted my face till I made eye contact with her. “Bea, you’re your own person. You don’t need to look like me or anybody else. Got it?”
“But if you want to look like me, we can always ask Maisy to give you a keratin treatment,” I said.
She smirked. “Very funny.”
My phone beeped. “Mom, look! I’m in the group text with the rest of the M & Ms!”
From: Mia
To: Maisy, Madeline, Meghan, Madison, Chloe, Genius Whisperer
Flag pole @ 7:25 Monday. Check Seventeen’s Insta story for POPPY RED looks.
Mom raised her eyebrow. “I’m assuming you’re the Genius Whisperer?”
“I have a nickname and everything!” I practically squealed.
“But what does it mean?” Mom asked.
“Long story. Can you take Maisy and me to the mall tomorrow?”
Mom paused for a minute like she wanted to say something deep, but then she just smiled. “Of course. We won’t leave till we find some cute Poppy Red outfits.”
MAISY
As soon as I wheeled my bike into the garage, Addy came running out of the house like a maniac. She threw herself into me and squeezed so hard, I felt like she was breaking my ribs. Even though she’s two years younger than me, and a couple of inches shorter, Addy probably weighs about twenty pounds more and it’s all rock-solid muscle. Dad always says lifting Addy is like picking up a bag of boulders.
“Addy! You’re breaking me!” I yelled.
Addy laughed and let go. “I forgot how wimpy you are.”
I pointed to myself. “I’m a normal person. You’re just used to hanging out with superhumans.”
“True.” Addy pulled herself into a handstand and walked across the lawn on her hands.
“Can you believe Grandma moved in?” I hissed when she teetered near me. “And now we have to share a room?”
Addy spent so much of her life upside down that talking while walking on her hands was no big deal to her. “Isn’t it awesome? It’s going to be like a sleepover every night!”
“Just don’t leave any of your sweaty leotards on my half of the room,” I said.
“Whatever.” Addy flipped back to her feet and pulled her phone out of the top of her leotard. She smiled as her fingers flew across her phone screen.
“Who’re you texting?” I asked.
Addy looked up from the phone. “Why are you all up in my business?”
“That better not be Mom,” I said, reaching for her phone. But Addy had a death grip on it.
“Why do you care?” she asked.
“The last time we saw her she almost drove the minivan off the Maple Creek Bridge—with us in it. And you’re texting her with heart emojis like nothing happened.”
“I didn’t use heart emojis,” Addy said, as her phone lit up with another text.
I leaned over her shoulder. “Kissy face emojis. Same thing.”
