The 47 People You'll Meet in Middle School

by Kristin Mahoney

  “Wow, illicit,” Quincy muttered. “That sounds super serious.” Sarah stifled a giggle.

  “Back into the gym. NOW!” Smeed yelled. “There will be no more ‘trips to the bathroom’ for any of you.” He made air quotes with his fingers as he said it. “You’re staying in the gym.”

  Suddenly even the air in the courtyard felt stifling, and my plan to text Dad for early pickup seemed like a lifeline. “I might need to go home early,” I said.

  Smeed glared at me. “There is no going home early, Miss Reynolds. This event ends at ten, and you five are here until the bitter end. Now get back in that gym unless you want me to take this matter to Mr. Wyatt.”

  As we shuffled back to the gym, Syd asked, “Is that legal? To say we can’t leave? They can’t hold us here against our will, can they?”

  “No,” Quincy said. “They can’t. But I bet if any of us text our parents and try to get out early, Smeed will go straight to Wyatt and say we were in the courtyard when we weren’t supposed to be.”

  “Yeah, and you guys would be repeat offenders after your homeroom gambling ring,” Syd said.

  I gave him a look. “Thanks for reminding us.”

  “You’re welcome!” Syd grinned, and Sarah gave him another little kick. At this rate he’d have a hole in his sneaker by the end of the night.

  Back in the gym, not much had changed. If the song that was playing wasn’t by Spoiler Alert, it was by someone who sounded exactly like them. I was starting to get a headache, probably from a combination of the crappy music and the fact that I hadn’t seen anything clearly all night.

  Elaine Farley had thrown her bag of crab apples away and was now sitting on a hay bale. I was debating whether to sit down beside her when a new voice came over the speakers.

  “Hey, Meridian…get ready to have your minds blown.” And then the music changed. Like, really changed. The sound coming out of the speakers was a staccato guitar that was somehow happy and dark at the same time. I recognized it in a split second. It was the sound of my very favorite dance song, “Blister in the Sun,” and I couldn’t believe DJ Dave would play it.

  Turns out, he wouldn’t.

  Standing at the DJ table, his head barely clearing the microphone stand, was none other than Nick Zambrano. He raised both arms and shouted, “I’m DJ Z!”

  “Whoa, it’s Zambrano!” Syd looked happier than he had all night. It’s possible that I did too. Good music makes a big difference.

  “Hey, DJ Z,” Syd yelled toward the DJ stand. “What are you doing there?”

  Nick waved us over. I noticed Amber watching as we crossed the gym toward him. She turned back to the other Silver Sisters when I caught her eye.

  “I’ve been back and forth between here and the snack table all night.” Nick was talking faster than usual. “I told DJ Dave I know how to use all his equipment. He didn’t believe me, but he let me play one song while he watched. He picked the song, though.

  “Then I started bringing him a ton of water so he’d have to leave his post and go to the bathroom. I hoped maybe he’d let me cover for him. And it worked!”

  Nick took a deep breath. “Didn’t you guys see me over here?”

  “I thought I might have at one point,” Syd said. “But I’ve been kind of distracted.” He glanced at Sarah out of the corner of his eye. Her cheeks looked pink again.

  “I didn’t see you,” I said. “But I can’t really see anything.”

  Nick looked at me for a long second. “Oh yeah, where are your glasses?”

  “I forgot them at home,” I lied.

  “Well, now you can dance like crazy without worrying about them flying off!” he said.

  “Ha, yeah, right.”

  “No, I’m serious. I figure we only have till the end of this song before DJ Dave comes back and shuts me down. Lucky for us it’s a good one.”

  “I’ll just listen,” I said.

  “Come on, Gus,” Nick said. “I remember you and Louie doing routines to this in your backyard. You know how to dance to this one. Even I do.”

  He stepped out from behind the DJ booth and held his hand out to me. And for a second, I thought about taking it. I did. Dancing to “Blister in the Sun” would definitely have been the most fun thing to happen that night, even if it was with goofy Nick Zambrano.

  But then a bunch of other things happened at once.

  Heidi must have seen Nick reaching for my hand, because I saw her nudge Amber, whose mouth dropped open when she looked over at us.

  DJ Dave appeared in the doorway and started walking quickly and purposefully back to his booth.

  And then, out of nowhere, I felt a sharp, bruising pinch to my backside.

  “Ha, I gotcha, Four Eyes!” the Gooser cackled as he pivoted around to face me.

  I felt tears spring up in my eyes, and I tried to will them not to spill out onto my cheeks. I looked up at his doughy, greasy face and couldn’t think of a thing to say. But I forced myself to meet his eyes.

  “Didn’t think I’d recognize you without your glasses, did you?” he said. “I’d know that butt anywhere.”

  One tear spilled out. The rest threatened to follow.

  “Hey! What’s wrong with you, man?” Nick’s face was as red as mine felt.

  “Who are you, her boyfriend?” The Gooser bent down to put his face inches from Nick’s.

  “You’re a jerk,” Nick spat at him. “Get away from us.”

  The Gooser looked like he was going to say more, but at that moment DJ Dave yelled over from where he’d been standing at his sound board, presumably deleting any songs Nick had cued up.

  “Hey, DJ Z!” he hollered. “Next time you offer to man my station, stay there. Don’t take off to see your girl.”

  Of course this brought another cackle from the Gooser. “Ha, I told you! Four Eyes has a boyfriend.”

  How did this guy get away with being so awful? He finally turned to leave, probably looking for another butt to pinch. But this time he didn’t get very far. In fact, he fell down. Rather spectacularly, actually. In the pause between songs, everyone on that side of Dogpatch had the pleasure of hearing sweaty, doughy Gooser face meet hard gym floor.

  As he scrambled to get to his feet, I saw Elaine Farley quickly pull her foot back and turn away on her hay bale.

  The Gooser was enraged. “Who did that? What happened?” His head swiveled around as he tried to figure out who or what had tripped him. His eyes never even stopped on Elaine. It was like she was invisible to him.

  “Dude, your nose is bleeding.” Syd pointed up at the Gooser’s face and grimaced.

  The Gooser put his hand up to his nose, cursed, and ran out of the gym. Other girls’ bottoms would be safe for the rest of the night. But mine was still hurting. My song was over. Amber was glaring at me. I wanted to go home.

  “You okay, Gus?” Nick asked.

  “Yeah,” I lied again. “I’m just ready for this to be over.”

  But it wasn’t over yet. Now that DJ Dave was back in charge, there were more Spoiler Alert songs to suffer through. Sarah and I hit the refreshment table again. Nick and Syd followed close behind. They started throwing popcorn at each other and trying to catch it with their mouths, until Ms. Lewis spied them and put a stop to it.

  After what felt like an eternity, DJ Dave finally announced it was the last song of the night, and he replayed the cheesy Spoiler Alert ballad. All the couples from before—and a few new ones—moved out to the dance floor.

  “Smeed’s letting kids out now,” Sarah said. “Let’s go get our stuff.”

  If Smeed noticed Sarah and me filing out with other kids on our way to the lockers, he didn’t say anything. Nick wasn’t so lucky, though.

  “Mr. Zambrano.” Smeed clapped a hand on Nick’s shoulder and stopped him from following us out the door.
“We need some help stacking these hay bales.”

  Nick looked at Smeed like he was crazy, but I knew he didn’t dare argue. Our entire homeroom was on thin ice after the Binaca incident. I stepped up my pace before Smeed could turn and ask me too.

  For once, Davis Davis wasn’t blocking my locker, so I got my jacket and my glasses quickly and met up with Sarah outside. We were standing by the flagpole when a stampede of silver boots approached us.

  “I thought you forgot your glasses,” Addison said.

  “Yeah,” Heidi chimed in. “We figured maybe that’s why you were dancing with Nick even though you know Amber likes him. Because surely you must have thought he was someone else since you’re blind.”

  “Heidi,” Amber hissed. Addison rolled her eyes and said, “Come on, Amber.” I actually agreed with her; it was ridiculous for Amber to pretend that her crush on Nick was a secret anymore.

  “She wasn’t dancing with him,” Sarah said. “We were all just talking.”

  “Gus!” It was Nick, coming through the front doors and waving at me. How had he gotten out of hay-bale duty so quickly?

  He jogged down to where Sarah and I were standing. “Smeed had to let me go because my mom texted that she was here. Do you need a ride?”

  I couldn’t bear to look at anyone at that moment—not Nick, not Sarah, and certainly not the Silver Sisters. But I didn’t have to look at them. I could feel Amber’s glare like the sun on my skin.

  I started to say I was going to my dad’s, so it would be out of the way for Nick’s mom anyway. But before I could say anything, Addison’s voice cut through my thoughts.

  “What. Is. That.”

  I turned in the direction she was looking, and then I saw it. The perfectly horrible end to a perfectly horrible night. It was you, Lou, and Dad, rolling up to the curb in the giant green-and-orange WOLD van. Why? Why? God, why?

  “Is that your car?” Heidi shrieked.

  “No,” I answered.

  “Well, isn’t that your dad?” Addison said. “What’d he do, steal it?” She, Amber, and Heidi were practically in tears, they were laughing so hard. Marcy knew where my dad worked. She just smiled and examined her bangle bracelets.

  “It’s his work car,” Nick said, as though I couldn’t speak for myself. “He works at the radio station.” He raised his hand and waved. “Hey, Mr. Reynolds!”

  You might remember the rest, Lou. Because that’s when I quickly said “bye” to Sarah and bolted to the van. You waved goodbye to Nick. I didn’t.

  I couldn’t believe Dad had picked me up from my first dance in the stupid WOLD van. I couldn’t believe the kids at school—including the horrid Silver Sisters—had seen it. I couldn’t believe I was having to ride home wedged between sound equipment in the back. I could barely even listen as Dad apologized about the van and tried to explain about his car not starting again, and how his boss had given him a ride to the station after their client dinner and said he could use the van. I just wanted to be home. And not Dad’s apartment either—home home, where we’d lived our whole lives and where Mom still was. And then I remembered: No, Mom was not at home right now. Mom was on a date. With Mr. Singer. UGH.

  But I couldn’t even say anything about it. Because it was a big secret from you and Dad.

  And that’s when I heard the siren, and saw the flashing lights. That’s when Dad looked in the rearview mirror, said “What the heck?” and pulled over. And then a tall policeman walked up to the car and introduced himself as Officer Baldwin.

  Turns out you and Dad would find out about Mom and Mr. Singer soon enough.

  The next morning, I got that terrible feeling you get when you wake up and for a second you think it’s a normal day, but then you remember all the things that went horribly wrong the night before. Like all the bad music at the dance. And the hostile looks from the Silver Sisters. And being pinched by the Gooser. And getting picked up in the WOLD van in front of half the school. And, just when it seemed like things couldn’t get any worse, winding up at a police station late at night with you, Dad, Officer Baldwin, Mom, and Mr. Singer.

  Mr. Singer seemed to be in a pretty good mood, even though his date was being interrupted. Maybe he knew he had to put on a good face in a ridiculously awkward situation. Mom didn’t look quite so pleased. I thought she listened pretty calmly as Dad explained how we’d been pulled over because the WOLD van had a broken taillight. But you and I both knew that mood was going to go south quickly when she heard the rest of the story. About how Officer Baldwin next noticed that Dad wasn’t wearing a seat belt. Because the driver’s-side seat belt was broken.

  Mom didn’t seem to care much about Dad’s explanation: that he hadn’t worried about the broken seat belt because he was so flustered about his car not starting and having to borrow the WOLD van in the first place. And that that was why she and Mr. Singer had to interrupt their dinner to come to the police station, because Officer Baldwin declared the van was unsound for driving, and said we’d have to go to the station with him and find another way home.

  So the main thing I was remembering the next morning was the yelling. The “How could you drive our children in a car with a broken taillight and a broken seat belt, Matt—how could you not notice those things?” from Mom and the “I don’t know, Shelly; apparently there’s a lot I haven’t noticed!” from Dad as he glanced at Mr. Singer.

  I think that was when Officer Perry came in and offered to show us the vending machine. I knew she was just trying to get us away from an awful scene between our parents, but I went along with her even though I wasn’t hungry. I couldn’t believe you bought and ate a whole bag of chips, Lou, but then you never seem to get stressed out.

  Remember? I even asked you about it.

  “Doesn’t this bother you at all?”

  “What?” you said, munching on a chip.

  “The fact that we’re in a police station and Dad is in trouble and Mom is here with Mr. Singer?”

  “Oh,” you answered. “Well, we got to ride in a police car. That was cool. And Mr. Singer is nice. Can you hold my chips? I have to go to the bathroom.”

  ARGH.

  While Officer Perry walked you to the bathroom, I couldn’t stop thinking about how awful it was to have to see Mr. Singer in that situation. How I’d tried to stop Dad from calling Mom when we needed a ride, but how he insisted that she was going to have to know sooner or later (and also Uncle Keith was in Florida, so he couldn’t pick us up). How I’d hoped that she’d have the good sense to at least leave Mr. Singer and get us by herself, and how sick I felt when I could tell that she was explaining to Dad over the phone that her date would be coming with her, and that her date was Mr. Singer.

  Before you came back from the bathroom, Mr. Singer found me and said, “I know this must be weird for you, Augusta; I hope you’re doing okay.” And I just looked at him instead of saying what I wanted to say, which was “If you really wanted me to be okay, you wouldn’t be dating my mom.” That was when you and Officer Perry came back, so he didn’t have a chance to say more. Thankfully.

  * * *

  So, yeah, that all came flooding back into my brain when I woke up the morning after the dance. I pulled my covers over my head and decided I was going to spend the day like that when I remembered something else: Ama. I wasn’t even halfway to the amount of money I needed for contact lenses. I had to go to work.

  I reached for my phone, which was charging on my bedside table. With everything that had gone down the night before, Dad had forgotten about our family no-phone-in-the-bedroom-overnight rule.

  I had a text from Layla: How was ur dance?!

  Ugh. The last thing I was in the mood for was talking about the dance with Layla. She’d texted me some pictures of her first dance at Parkwood last weekend, and of course it was perfect. The DJ played the best music! The panther mascot was there and he di
d the limbo! She and her friends were dancing with cute boys! Of course Jocelyn was in the pictures, right there at the center of the awesomeness.

  I didn’t respond to Layla’s text.

  I did respond to a text from Sarah that said, How ru doing today?

  2 much 2 tell right now

  Going to Ama’s

  Text u later

  It was weird. A few months ago, I barely even knew Sarah, and now I was dying to talk to her, but I couldn’t bring myself to respond to Layla at all. And I’d known her almost my whole life. Sometimes it felt like she was on another planet, instead of just in a different school.

  * * *

  “Gusta! You have to come upstairs!” Ama called from the top of the steps when I walked in. (Her dad had dropped me off in their driveway and left to do errands. He had given me a ride since my dad was suddenly without transportation.) “You have to come now!”

  I love the way Ama says my name. It’s like a combination of the two names everyone else calls me, Augusta and Gus, and in her little voice it is so cute.

  “Okay, let me take off my shoes,” I called up to her. Dr. Chen isn’t strict about many rules in their house, but one thing she takes super seriously is the no-shoes-past-the-foyer rule. Mom says it makes sense because you don’t want people tracking dirt into your house when you have a baby. It isn’t a big deal except on the days that Ama wants to keep running back and forth from inside the house to the backyard; then I practically have to tackle her to make sure she doesn’t either run inside in her sneakers or outside in her socks.

  Dr. Chen popped her head around the kitchen doorway. She was holding baby George and her hair was in a messy ponytail.

  “Hey, Augusta,” she said. She smiled, but her voice sounded tired. “You can go ahead up and hang with Ama. I don’t know if you can tell, but she’s dying to see you. I think she wants to introduce you to someone. And then, if you don’t mind, I might nap with George. We’re both pooped.”