School Squad, page 5
“Are you gonna stay mad at Mom forever?” Addy asked.
I twisted my hair into a bun. “Dr. Beth says everyone has their own timeline for forgiveness.”
Addy folded her arms across her muscular chest. “I won’t bug you about your timeline if you stop being so bossy about mine.”
“Why do you have to be so annoying?” I asked.
She popped into a handstand and walked toward the front steps with as much attitude as possible while being upside down.
I sighed. It was really hard to stay annoyed at someone who’s so happy and bouncy all the time. “Fine. Whatever.”
Grandma opened the front door. “Addy, stay like that so I can video you for Facebook.”
I rolled my eyes.
Grandma focused her phone on Addy. Of course Addy had to show off. She didn’t just walk up the stairs on her hands, she did a push-up on each step.
Grandma leaned into the phone and spoke like it was a microphone. “Watch out for my granddaughter, Addy. This little firecracker’s gonna be in the Olympics one day.”
Grandma turned the phone toward me. “There’s my other granddaughter, Maisy.”
I smiled without showing any teeth and gave a half wave.
The rest of the night didn’t get any better. I had to share a closet with Addy, and even though Dad had put up a divider in the middle, just looking at her half made me anxious. All the hangers were pointing in different directions and the clothes were all hanging by a thread, ready to fall on the floor at any second. I spent an hour fixing up her half of the closet before I even got started putting away my camp clothes.
For dinner, Grandma reheated the Stouffer’s lasagna in the microwave so the edges of the pasta were hard and the sauce tasted like metal. Grandma doesn’t care that microwaves creep me out, ever since I read that they use radiation to cook the food. I also had to drink a big glass of whole milk with Ovaltine powder in it at dinner because Grandma thinks I’m too skinny. The milk tasted like Whoppers, which are seriously the worst candy ever. When I finally got to bed, I had to watch gymnastics videos with Addy on YouTube when all I wanted to do was go to sleep. Who would have ever thought I would actually miss being at camp?
When Grandma turned on the light at seven the next morning, I groaned. “But it’s my last morning to sleep in.”
She climbed up the loft ladder and pulled my comforter back. “If you don’t get up now, you’ll never fall asleep tonight. Time to reset your body clock for the school year.”
“Ugh.” I pulled my comforter back over my face.
“Breakfast’s in five,” Grandma said.
“K,” Addy practically sang as she jumped down off her loft bed with a loud thump. Then she ran to the bathroom and made as much noise as humanly possible. She is seriously the loudest teeth brusher in the world.
Five minutes later, I was sitting at the kitchen table with my eyes half closed. Addy came bouncing into the room wearing a blue sparkly leotard and a pair of black spandex shorts. She threw on a gray Five Rivers Gymnastics hoodie over her head and started pulling her hair back in a tight ponytail.
Grandma handed her a slimy green smoothie. “Hold this so I can get a pic. I want to show my Facebook friends the dedication it takes to train.”
Addy held up her drink with one hand and rested the other hand on her hip. She gave Grandma a big, cheesy smile, like she was in an actual commercial.
Grandma muttered out loud while she typed. “No Lucky Charms for this girl! #greenjuice #olympicbound #gymnasticsgrandma #proudgranny.”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s too early for this.”
“Don’t worry,” said Grandma. “I made you a Lender’s.”
One of the best parts of living in New York is the bagels. I literally dreamed about a big, fluffy-on-the-inside, crunchy-on-the-outside bagel while I was stuck in the middle of nowhere at Camp Amelia. Grandma is the only New Yorker I know who buys frozen bagels.
Addy chugged her green drink like it was a chocolate milkshake, which made me shudder.
I rubbed my upper lip. “You have a little something.”
She wiped off her green mustache with the back of her hand. “I’m so excited about homeschooling. I mean gym schooling.”
“Aren’t you going to miss seeing everyone at school?” I asked.
Addy shrugged. “Nah. I have Tashie and Sage.”
Grandma wagged a finger at her. “Don’t forget they’re your competition.”
Addy slurped back more smoothie. “Just because they’re my besties doesn’t mean I would let them beat me.”
Grandma gave her a fist bump; Addy had taught her how to do it yesterday. “That’s right, Cookie.”
Dad walked into the kitchen wearing a gray-and-white checkered shirt with black pinstriped pants, a black belt, and brown shoes and said, “Hi, girls.”
“Dad, you can’t wear that to work. Your residents are totally gonna rip on you,” I said.
“What’s wrong with this outfit?” Dad smoothed down his shirt. “I was going for the opposite of too matchy-matchy.”
“I’ll be right back,” I said, scraping my chair back.
I ran upstairs to Dad’s closet and grabbed a plain white button-down and a pair of black shoes that didn’t look too scuffed up. I didn’t want to think about the terrible outfits Dad had worn to work all summer without me home to keep an eye on him. Good thing he wore a white lab coat most of the day.
I ran downstairs two at a time but froze when I heard Addy ask, “When’s Mom coming home?”
I held my breath.
“Soon. She can’t wait to get back to you girls,” Dad said.
Addy started to sound kind of panicky. “Will she be back in time for my first level-nine meet?”
“When is it?” Dad asked.
“Beginning of November,” Addy said. “Coach Tracy wants me to jump right up to level ten after the first level-nine meet. But I need to get eight point fives on all of my events and a thirty-four all around to qualify.”
There was no way Mom would be ready to come home by November, and even if she thought she was, I wouldn’t be ready to see her by then. My stomach started doing somersaults and I could feel beads of sweat popping up on my forehead.
“You’re going to nail this meet,” Grandma said. “You looked great at practice yesterday. That bar routine is really something.”
“If I don’t make level ten now, I won’t have enough time to qualify for Junior Elite by the end of the season,” Addy said. “I really need Mom there.”
“Hopefully, she’ll be home in time,” Dad said. “But you’re going to kick butt at that meet whether Mom’s there or not. I know she will try her best to be there for you.”
“Maisy! Your father’s going to be late,” Grandma yelled.
I took a deep breath and held it in for five counts. Then I breathed out for five. The flip-floppy feeling in my stomach was still there, but I didn’t want Grandma to start yelling again, so I walked in and handed Dad the clothes.
He smiled. “Thanks, Mini. You saved me from being humiliated at work today.”
I sat back down at the table and pushed the wannabe bagel away from me.
Dad took off the checkered shirt and threw it on the back of a chair. Then he pulled on the new shirt and buttoned it in record time.
I scooted my chair back. “Can I have a ride to Bea’s?”
“What about your breakfast?” Grandma asked.
“Not hungry,” I said.
Grandma shook her finger at me. “How do you expect to fatten up if you skip meals?”
I sighed. “I’ll eat at Bea’s.”
Dad filled his travel mug with coffee. “Are they even awake yet?”
“Yes,” I said. “We’re going back-to-school shopping.”
Dad looked at his watch. “You’ve got five minutes, so hurry up and get ready.”
For once Dad didn’t have to remind me to hurry. I wanted to get out of our house as quickly as possible.
CHAPTER SEVEN
BEA
MOM DOES ALL HER SHOPPING ONLINE. SHE KNOWS THE UPS GUY so well, she was invited to his wife’s baby shower. Spending eight hours at the mall helping Maisy and me find every last Poppy Red article of clothing was clearly Mom’s way of making up for her reaction to my makeover.
The next morning, as I was shoving my lunch pouch in my backpack, Maisy walked in the back door without knocking, like she had done practically all our lives, minus last year when we weren’t friends.
“Is this too much?” I asked, pressing my hands down on the red T-shirt dress Maisy and Mom had convinced me to buy. “I feel like it’s too much.”
Mom lowered her head practically in her bowl of granola and oat milk. “Please tell Bea how awesome she looks. I only told her about twenty-five times, but I’m not getting anywhere.”
“You look sooooo good, Bea!” Maisy said.
But when I took in Maisy’s simple white denim shorts, Poppy Red boatneck tee, and navy sneakers, I knew I should’ve gone with a statement piece. I needed to blend in, not stand out like a big red tomato.
“Maybe I should change. This dress clashes with my hair,” I said.
“Don’t I tell you when you forget to brush the back of your hair? Or when you think you wrote an amazing paper, but you really didn’t stick to the prompt?” Mom said.
“Yes. But that doesn’t mean you would tell me if I looked…”
Mom kissed me on the top of my head. “I would tell you if you looked anything other than beautiful for your first day of middle school.”
“And you know I wouldn’t let you go to school looking like an idiot.” Maisy grabbed a handful of granola from the open bag on the table. “Now let’s go before we’re late.”
I was too nervous to talk, so Maisy filled our walk with the kind of chatter you aren’t expected to respond to, like when the dental hygienist is cleaning your teeth. I focused on putting one foot in front of the other until we reached the flagpole in front of the middle school entrance, the designated spot for popular seventh graders.
Mia was sitting on top of the concrete flagpole base wearing a red jean skirt with a fitted white tank. She had the confidence of someone who never second-guessed her outfit or herself. Meghan sat by Mia’s feet, wearing a red-and-white gingham sundress, with Madeline next to her in a white sundress dress with a thick red headband. Madison sat on the brick walkway wearing a white V-neck tee with a red skater skirt. Chloe, practically in her lap, wore the exact opposite—a red V-neck tee and a white skater skirt.
The seventh-grade boys were tossing a football on the lawn, but I could see a few of them taking peeks at the girls on the flagpole. The girls walking by couldn’t help looking at the Royal Court to see what everyone would be wearing for the school year.
Maisy walked on the brick path to popularity like it was nothing. If you didn’t count Maisy’s brief stint at adventure camp, fitting in comes easy to her. In fact, the pact happened because she couldn’t handle being an outsider, even if it was for only six weeks. Meanwhile, I couldn’t help feeling like I had no business wearing Poppy Red, let alone walking anywhere near the path to popularity.
“Love your dress, Meghan,” Maisy said.
Meghan rolled her eyes. “My mom made me wear it. I told her it was too extra, but she didn’t listen.”
“I just saw a post saying that gingham’s the perfect transition print between summer and fall,” I said, with one foot on the brick path and one foot off.
“Are you sure that wasn’t a recycled post from two years ago?” Meghan asked.
“It was definitely new. Just can’t remember if I saw it on Snapchat or Instagram.” I realized that because of my lies, Meghan was never going to update her phone and she would be two seasons behind on fashion.
Meghan smiled at me. “Thanks.”
Mia hopped off her perch. “First-day selfie?”
The girls pulled out their phones and used the cameras as mirrors while they reapplied lip gloss and smoothed down stray hairs. In sync, they all put their phones back in their pockets and squeezed together around the flagpole. They reminded me of a flock of birds who moved together as one.
I may have been wearing the signature M & M color, but that didn’t mean I had earned a spot in their annual first-day-of-school Instagram post. Their photo from last year had spoken volumes to me about how I didn’t have a place in Maisy’s life anymore.
“Hurry up,” Meghan said. “Before the bell rings.”
“Come on, Bea,” Maisy said.
I waited for someone to tell me I didn’t belong in the picture. But Maisy tugged on my arm and suddenly I was huddled with the M & Ms. As we posed for selfie after selfie, it hit me that I wasn’t going to be invisible this year.
“Think we got it,” Mia finally said.
The girls broke their poses and crowded around her phone.
“Delete that one right now,” Madison said. “I look cross-eyed.”
“Ew. Delete that one too,” Meghan said. “I look like a chipmunk.”
All the pictures looked the same to me, but Madeline grabbed the phone. “We just need the right filter. I’ll figure it out.”
Then Meghan hissed, “He’s coming.”
“He looks even cuter today,” Madison purred in a dreamy voice. “How is that even possible?”
“He has this whole undercover nerd thing going on,” Maisy said. “Especially with those loafers.”
“We need everyone to see us talking to him,” Mia said. “Before Simone’s friend group makes a move on him.”
“Bea, get him over here,” Madeline said, with a not-so-gentle shove in my back.
“Clark! Clark! Over here,” I yelled across the grass.
“Did you have to be so obvious?” Madison said.
“Seriously,” Chloe said.
“What’s the purpose of getting him over here if no one sees?” Maisy said.
Maisy may not have the highest GPA, but her social IQ will always be higher than mine.
As Clark headed across the grass, every single girl, and a couple of guys, stared. Clark’s status as Mapleton Middle School’s Glow Up of the Year was official.
All the pact scheming over the summer had made me better at thinking on my feet. “Um, I can’t remember when Robotics Club starts,” I said, as soon as Clark got close enough.
He pushed his hair off his face. “Tomorrow during E block.”
I smacked my head, like people do when they forget something important, but I did it so hard, it was highly probable I gave myself a concussion.
“Are you okay?” Clark asked.
I waved my hand. “Oh yeah, I do that all the time. I read this study that says it’s a great way to wake your brain up.”
Madison smacked herself in the side of the head. “Oooooh. I think it’s working.”
Clark adjusted his backpack. “You have to be really careful about what you read online. See you guys later.”
Maisy shot me a look. If we really wanted to stake a claim on Clark, we needed him to stick with us at least until the bell rang. If I blew it with Clark on day one, I could kiss my Poppy Red days goodbye.
“Wait.” I put my hand on his surprisingly hairy forearm, then dropped it almost immediately. “I’ve been thinking about the robotics competition. We should partner up.”
Clark smiled broadly. “Griffin and Marshall will be psyched. We’ve got big plans this year, so we really need a fourth.”
Last year Griffin Daley and Marshall Cooper went to Comic-Con dressed as Fortnite characters and weren’t even embarrassed to post the pictures.
“Sounds great,” I forced out.
The bell rang.
Clark took a step toward the school. “See you at the meeting.”
Maisy shot me a look.
I walked a little closer to Clark. “What’re you guys thinking about for this year?”
Clark was so excited to bounce robotics ideas off me that he didn’t even notice he was surrounded by a sea of Poppy Red as we walked into school.
MAISY
“Ugh, my brain seriously hurts,” I said, as Mia and I left math. “When are we ever going to use word problems in real life?”
“Never. We have Siri.” Mia pulled a brush through her thick blond hair without dropping her math book.
As we turned the corner, I saw Bea standing in front of my locker.
“Mia, I’ll meet you in the cafeteria,” I said. “I have to drop some stuff off first.”
“I’ll wait.” Mia shoved her brush in her pocketbook and flipped her hair over her shoulders.
“They might run out of smoothie bowls,” I said. “I heard Mrs. Acres made her special granola topping.”
Mia said, “See you in there.” Then she headed down the hall, shooting off texts as she walked.
“I can’t believe you’re not in any of my classes,” Bea said as soon as I got to my locker.
“That’s because I don’t want to fail middle school,” I said. “Listen, I need to tell you something.”
Bea’s face crumpled up. “Oh no. The girls don’t want me to sit with them at lunch?”
“No, it’s not about that. But listen…” I started.
“Can’t you just tell me on the walk to the caf—” Bea froze.
Mr. Pembrook was walking down the hall and straight toward us.
“That’s what I was trying to tell you,” I whispered.
Mr. Pembrook stopped in front of us and cleared his throat. He was wearing a bowtie that was covered in yellow pencils, pink erasers, and shiny red apples. Matching socks peeked out of the bottom of his too-short pants.
“Hi, Bea. Nice to see you again, Maisy,” Mr. Pembrook said.
Bea narrowed her eyes at us. “Again?”
Mr. Pembrook straightened out his bowtie in a manic kind of way. “I, uh… got transferred to the middle school.”
Bea’s voice got higher with each syllable. “But I thought you only taught fifth grade?”
“I did up until this morning. Then, right in the middle of our staff meeting, Mr. Haim found out he made it on that reality show, you know the one where women compete to get engaged to one guy?” Mr. Pembrook said.
