Anything But: The Musings of an Outcast, Me, Razberry Sweet

by Megan Linski

  “I have a question. Is there ever going to be a day when you don’t make a spectacle of yourself?” Puppy asks.

  “Never,” I smile. My pants are soaked. Despite my little side-show it’s going to be embarrassing walking around all day looking like I’ve peed myself. The yellow in the pants only makes it worse. “I suppose nobody has an extra pair of pants?”

  “Nope.” Puppy shakes her head, then takes off her pink jacket and tosses it to me. “Wear it around your waist. It’ll cover the stain.”

  I hold it by one arm. There’s a light, flowery scent to it. Puppy wears nice perfume. Unfortunately, I really don’t want to smell like a girl all day. I protest the thing itself by saying, “It’s a girl’s jacket.”

  “And?” Puppy raises one an eyebrow at me. I’m not stupid enough to argue with her. I wrap the jacket around my waist and Soldier laughs at me. To make him laugh harder, I pretend to strike a pose.

  “Oh, sit down, you,” Pepper says, and she yanks me down into my chair. “Besides, it’s only water.”

  “So what do you do?” Soldier asks me, leaning back in his chair and putting his feet up on the table. “I play paintball, Zoar’s a band geek, and Pepper’s part of the Science Club and mathlete team. Puppy’s just grumpy all the time.”

  “I do other things!” Puppy protests. “And I told you to call me Carmen, not Puppy!”

  Soldier smiles. “Too late, it’s sticking now. My point is, we all have a thing. What’s yours?”

  I hesitate. I try to think of something cool, something I’m good at.

  But there’s only one thing on earth that I can actually do, so I grin and try to push down my nerves, saying, “I act.”

  “You’re an actor?” Zoar says. “That makes a lot of sense, actually.”

  I think I’ve blown my cover, but Pepper nods and says, “Yeah, you kinda look like a theatre kid. Kind of act like one too, in an obnoxious way.”

  I sigh in relief. I spend the rest of the hour stuffing down the food they gave me and avoiding questions.

  The bell rings, and we walk to our lockers. People are giggling at me because of the jacket. I suck it up, pretending to walk with a womanly gait. This only makes the crowd laugh harder, and I grin. A good actor always needs an audience. I could be a comedian.

  “You’re good at making people laugh. You’re gonna be famous one day,” Soldier says, clapping me on the back. “And when you are, make sure you mention me when you get an Oscar.”

  “Sure.” I laugh. “But right now, I’m kinda doing my own stuff. One day I’d really like to make a movie.”

  “Yeah right,” Puppy chuckles. She rolls her eyes. “The day that happens, you can call me. I’ll be your lead role.”

  * * *

  After lunch, I head to my next class, which is Study Hall.

  “What do we do in Study Hall?” I ask Zoar. “I didn’t even know schools did that anymore.”

  “The school has a shortage of teachers,” Zoar explains. “Every hour the classes are packed so full that the teachers can’t handle it. It probably isn’t even legal to have that many students in one confined space. The hour after lunch is the worst. With nearly forty kids to a classroom and three teachers going over to the middle school to teach in the afternoon, there’s about thirty kids left over with no classes, mostly juniors and seniors. Which leaves us.”

  Soldier, Puppy, Zoar, Pepper and I are all in Study Hall together.

  I wonder if Puppy is getting annoyed with me yet. She has me in almost every class.

  We came to a small, abandoned classroom at the very end of the school. Inside are a bunch of mismatched desks and chairs. Maymee’s drawing on an old chalkboard. A bunch of kids are playing baseball with binders and wadded up scraps of paper that are covered in spit (lovely, right?). I realize there’s no such thing as studying in Study Hall.

  Throughout the class, kids are constantly going in and out. People from other classes like to skip and join the party.

  “Let’s at least try to get some work done today, okay guys?” Pepper says.

  “Yeah, right, like that’s going to happen,” I say. I lean back on my chair and yawn.

  “I’m going to the band room to see if I can practice,” Zoar says, and he grabs his stuff. “Anybody want to come along?”

  “No thanks,” Puppy shakes her head.

  “Have fun,” I say as he goes out the door. I let out a deep breath and become a spectator in paper wad baseball. I consider joining in, but I’d better not. I know how I am with sports. I’d swing the binder too hard and end up breaking a window.

  “If one of those hits me in the head somebody is going down,” Puppy growls.

  It isn’t two seconds after she says that when an abnormally large paper wad hits her right in the face. It sticks to her hair for a few seconds afterwards before it slowly slides off her head. The classroom noise falls to a dull murmur. I catch onto something. Puppy isn’t popular, but everyone knows not to mess with her.

  She gets to her feet. “Who threw that?” she asks, looking at the jocks menacingly. I could swear that if she had the ability she’d be foaming at the mouth.

  Some kid points his finger at his friend and says, “It was Bobby.”

  Puppy steps forward and says, “Well, jerk face, why don’t you watch where you’re aiming?”

  She throws the wad as fast as she can at him. It’s a good throw, one that I know the boys aren’t going to be able to catch.

  It almost hits Bobby in the face before Maymee reaches out her hand and snatches the thing out of thin air.

  “Wow,” somebody shouts across the room. “Good catch Maymee!”

  Both girls ignore him. I can sense a fight coming on. I have no idea what’s between these two ladies, but obviously it can’t be anything good.

  Maymee tosses the paper to the ground. “Let it go, Carmen. You’re so uptight. It was an honest mistake.”

  If it was silent before, it’s dead quiet now. The tension’s so thick between them that somebody could run naked across the room and nobody would notice.

  Puppy takes a step forward before Soldier barges in. “It’s not worth it,” he whispers in her ear.

  Maymee continues, looking at me. “Maybe you will loosen up, with your new friend there. I’ve heard he’s got connections with Bethany Cade.”

  The entire classroom gasps and my stomach drops to the floor. How does she know? Here, in little Limesville?

  My new friends turn to me in shock. I quickly rearrange my face and say, “Yeah, I know her a little bit. So what?”

  “So what? It was all over the news. I heard you stole a car,” Maymee accuses. Her eyes brighten up. “Tell us the real story.”

  The classroom is silent. I open my mouth, wondering if I should make up some story or tell them the truth.

  Puppy subs in for me. “That’s none of your business, is it, Maymee?”

  “It is when we could be going to school with a criminal,” she replies. “Don’t you wanna know if the new guy has had trouble with the police?”

  “It’s probably just a nasty rumor,” Puppy snaps. “One you made up, as usual.”

  Maymee gives her a loathing look before going back to the chalkboard. Puppy won this one, but only because she doesn’t know the truth.

  The class is disappointed. They all wanted to find out more about me, the new kid. Everyone goes back to what they were doing before and Puppy sits back down.

  I move my chair closer to her and say, “Thanks for defending me.”

  Puppy grits her teeth. “Bethany Cade? Did you really know her?”

  “I knew her a bit,” I lie. “But all of that stuff you heard on the news about her, I wasn’t involved. I transferred from, uh, an arts academy in New York.” I have to make shit up quickly. “I was studying acting, but my parents wanted me to have a normal high school experience, so they forced me to come here.”

  “So you’ve never been to Tinyork?” Pepper asks. “That’s where I heard Bethany wa
s from.”

  I shake my head, a blank expression on my face. Puppy relaxes and says, “Sorry. Maymee will make up anything for attention. I’m sure you’re not involved.”

  “Of course he isn’t!” Soldier exclaims. “Does he look like the type of guy who’d hang around with someone like Bethany?”

  “She was one of my cousin’s friends,” I say, inventing wildly. “That’s it. Sorry if you think I stole a car.” I laugh a little louder than I mean to, but play it cool.

  “It’s whatever,” Puppy says. She’s actually smiling at me. “I trust you.”

  In that moment I feel really, really bad. She shouldn’t trust me. But I’m too ashamed to tell her the truth.

  Chapter 2 - I Have a Most Awesome Idea

  I don’t let myself relax until the high school is out of sight. Then I sigh, letting the mask slip off my face. I enjoy the autumn breeze as I ride back home on the tractor. One down. 179 more school days to go.

  179 more days of faking my identity and hiding my past. Should be easy enough.

  Mitzy’s already at the barn, grinning at me like the Cheshire cat as I put the tractor back inside. “You’re going to be in trouble…” she sings.

  “Get out of here, little bug, before I squish you,” I snap. She sticks her tongue out at me and runs away while I brace myself for what’s waiting in the house. Slowly, I leave the barn and go inside.

  Uncle Logan is sitting in a chair, and he does not look happy. When comparing me and him, we almost look like we could be father and son. We have the same blonde hair, same blue eyes. He’s bulkier though, and I’m just a twig.

  I respect him a lot, partly because he’s fair, partly because he took my side with the whole Bethany incident, and partly because when he was my age, he put a dent in a locker with my dad’s head.

  I wonder if he’s going to put a dent in my head.

  I put my bag on the counter. “Decide to go on a little tractor ride this morning?” he asks.

  I nod. I’m not brave enough to say anything.

  “Raz, what have you been thinking lately?” Uncle Logan asks. His face bunches up into a bunch of furious little lines.

  “What was I supposed to do? If I’d have missed a day without being sick my probation officer is going to want to know why,” I protest.

  “You could have gotten me.”

  “Yeah, like I was going to wake you up. You and Aunt Sara are sleep deprived enough as it is,” I say.

  “Sara is going to roast you on a pike when she gets home. Once she saw that the tractor was gone, she was absolutely livid.”

  The phone is ringing. At the sound of the loud bell Uncle Logan’s face turns into a grimace. Bill collectors call this place more than teenagers with no cell phone restrictions.

  “Want me to get that?” I offer.

  “If it’s the electric company again tell them I’ve… died.” Uncle Logan says.

  I pick it up and ask, “Hello?” I take a glass down from the cabinet and fill it with water, then take a drink.

  “Is this the Sweet residence?”

  At the sound of that droning, dull voice I spit out the sip of water I took into the sink. It’s Maximum Goose.

  I was in such a good mood when I left that I’d completely forgotten about the detention I was supposed to serve. Shit.

  “Um, yeah,” I say.

  At the sound of my tone Uncle Logan grows suspicious. He holds out his hand for me to give him the phone. I do, hightailing it out of there and up the stairs.

  I don’t get to my room before I hear Uncle Logan yell, “Razberry Sweet! Get down here!”

  My shoulders slumping and feet dragging, I force myself back into the kitchen. Uncle Logan is already off the phone. “Did you skip out on detention today?”

  I shuffle my feet and look around the room. My ADHD gets even worse when I’m in trouble. “It was an accident.”

  “Damn it, Raz!” Uncle Logan slams his hand down on the counter and I jump at the noise. “Do you want to get into more trouble? Let me remind you that it was only because of your previously clean file that the judge let you off!”

  “Don’t remind me.” I scowl.

  “Let me also mention that paying your ridiculous fine put your parents several months behind on the bills,” he grumbles.

  “I mean… I can pay them back,” I offer weakly.

  “You should be glad I took you in, and getting into more trouble is how you thank me? I suppose you want to end up like Bethany, your idol,” he growls.

  I ball my hands into fists. “She is not my idol!”

  “You’re sure acting a lot like her!” Uncle yells. “Raz, stop fidgeting!”

  I halt my body from its shaking. It takes all my effort.

  Uncle Logan shakes his head and says, “Raz, I’m really disappointed in you, and concerned! I thought we talked about this.”

  We did, I think. I just never told you the whole story.

  “Raz, is something bothering you? Is it something I should know about?” he asks.

  He’s peering at me like he knows. It’s terrifying. I shake my head slowly and try to put on a face of utmost confusion. It fools him. Thank God.

  My uncle sighs. He points to me and says, “You’re going to serve that detention, and you’re also going to serve the two extra ones he piled on for you running away. I also suggest you write an apology. Now.”

  Defeated, I clomp up to my room.

  I’m good at writing apologies. I have one that’s absolutely dripping with poisoned sweetness in under five minutes. If there’s anything my parents taught me, it’s how to be passive-aggressive. The hard part is going to be delivering that apology to Goose. I slump back onto my bed and look at the various movie posters coating the walls.

  I’m going to have to be extra careful now. I’ll do anything so long as I don’t have to go back to my parents.

  It had been a great day and now, all because of Maximum Goose, it’s ruined.

  I turn over on my side. Bethany, my idol… what a ridiculous idea. I haven’t wanted to be like Bethany in a long time.

  Now that I don’t have to pretend, everything starts to fall in around me. I yank the blanket over my head and try to close my eyes. All I can see is Cayman’s snarling, disgusting face, and I feel like screaming.

  Don’t think about it, I think, reprimanding myself. I have to keep myself together. This is my new life now. The past doesn’t matter.

  The best thing I can do for myself is act like it never happened, I think. I have to do my best to become Razberry Sweet, and forget everything.

  * * *

  Aunt Sara grounded me for taking off with the tractor and skipping detention. In exact words, it was something like, “If I’ve found you’ve disobeyed me in any way or have done something stupid again, your skin will be hanging on my wall blah blah blah.”

  In fourth hour the next day everyone takes notice of my pouting. Zoar got kicked out of the band room and is being almost as grumpy as I am. It looks like we’re having a sulking contest.

  “Oh, stop being such a drama queen,” Puppy says to me. “So you got grounded because you forgot you had detention, so what?”

  “It’s not just that,” I say.

  “Oh, really?” Soldier asks, smiling.

  “Yes!” I snap. “I’ve only been here two days, and I’ve already gotten into trouble!”

  “We told you not to mess with the Goose-a-nator,” Pepper says as she chews on her pencil. “You getting grounded was your own fault.”

  “Okay,” I say, ignoring her. “Whatever.”

  You can tell that everyone in the class is extremely bored. Having ultimate freedom in school has already gotten dull. Maymee is scraping the chalk against the board, drawing lines in no particular direction. Soldier is taking a nap against his desk, and Zoar is humming a tune from band practice. Pepper’s bent over her homework as usual, and Puppy is looking at me with a disgusted look on her face, which I’ve come to find is normal. Everybod
y else is chatting nonsense. I gaze up at the ceiling and tap my fingers against the desk in irritation.

  There has to be a way to make this class less boring, and to distract everyone from the rumors that have to be circulating the school about me. My persona can only do so much. I need something to make me stand out.

  The only thing that can make me stand out is my acting, and I can’t do anything with that unless…

  Unless…

  I grab Puppy’s hand and pull her up from the chair. “Hey, what’s the big idea?” she yelps.

  “You, my friend, are going to be my lead female role.” I smile.

  “Excuse me?” she asks, totally confused.

  “You said that if I ever made a movie that you would be the lead. Congratulations. We’re going to make a movie.”

  “What? When did this crazy idea just pop into your head?” Puppy asks.

  “Just now.” I beam. “It’s brilliant. We’ll make a script and practice the parts, then put it all together on film and show it.”

  “To who?” Soldier raises his head off the desk and looks at me sleepily.

  “To everyone!” I shout.

  “Count me out,” Puppy says. “I’m not doing anything. And there is no way I’m acting.”

  I give her a hurt look. “Puppy, you promised!”

  “When?”

  “Yesterday! You got the part!” I throw up my hands and beam at her.

  She bares her teeth, but I know she won’t go back on her word to me, even if it was a joke when she said it. She’s not the type of person who likes being known as a liar.

  Soldier beams. “Can I be the super evil baddie with the big guns?”

  “Giant guns,” I promise, with hand gestures to match. “And Zoar, half of any movie is the music. You could compose and organize it.”

  The offer to create music already has Zoar sucked in. The only one I need to convince is Pepper. I turn to her and ask, “Come on, Pepper, you know you want to. Just go with it.”

  She gives me a look, like a crocodile who is eyeing the poor, tiny animal that it wants to eat. “The only way I’m taking part is if you let me be director. You’re going to need someone to run everything smoothly, and you can’t do that, Raz. Let me be your visionary.”