My Life in Smiley: I Got This! (mostly...)

by Anne Kalicky

  I never would’ve thought it was that many people! Mrs. Ficelle congratulated the students who’d welcomed Lena, but she also told us that certain people at school had nicknamed her “Iron Queen,”

  which according to her is completely unacceptable behavior.

  Personally, I thought that sounded a little like a superhero name. But when I saw that moron Raoul shoot a spitball on Mathis’s head, I realized exactly WHO, once again, had come up with this tasteless joke.

  Then Mrs. Ficelle gave Lena the floor, and she told us her story. She was hit by a car when she was six years old.

  That’s how she lost the use of her legs.

  The class was dead silent, but then she reassured us: “OK, I can never jump on a trampoline, but other than that I’m good—it’s all good.” At the end she added something that really stuck with us.

  I don’t know why, but during class Nico seemed deep in thought. Afterward, he totally disappeared in the hallway. I racked my brain to figure out what I could’ve done wrong. Was it because of the screwed-up video?

  After school I could only find Tom and Célia, and we all walked home together. Célia couldn’t stop talking about Lena. Célia and Naïs have become really close friends with her. That didn’t surprise me about Naïs . . . she’s so pretty and openhearted!

  I told them about Life Skills, the rumor about the terrible nickname given to Lena (by Raoul or Mathis), and her accident. They seemed really impressed by Lena’s courage.

  When I got home, no one was there, and the house was completely dark. And due to the whole Nico disappearance thing, I felt a little bit lonely.

  So since I needed something comforting, I went looking for MY fuzzy blanket! I hurried straight to Marion’s room, and, just as I suspected, I found the fur comforter on HER bed! And because that blanket belongs to ME, I reclaimed it.

  I wanted to take the opportunity to rummage around in her things, but Marion came home at EXACTLY that moment! And guess what she was wearing? My dad’s old patched jacket! If she didn’t give me back my “pelt,” I was going to tell on her. But in the end, I didn’t even have to negotiate for anything.

  Tuesday

  This morning, Tom tagged the wall of the secret passage.

  Wednesday

  Nico was absent again yesterday, but I was happy to see him back today.

  While we were running in PE, he told me that since Mrs. Ficelle’s class, he’d been doing a lot of thinking about Lena and about disability in general. As a result, he’d come up with an idea, but he didn’t know if I’d be into it. I was ALL ears. Basically, he said, “What if our business became more like a charity?” All of the stuff with Lena had reminded him of his dad. If he had survived the car crash and found himself in a wheelchair, Nico was certain his dad would’ve loved for us to fight for this cause. Then he told me that he’d signed up with an organization called Welcoming Wheelchairs, and he’d learned they were looking for money to train service dogs for disabled people.

  Those pooches can do all kinds of AWESOME stuff: pick up things, turn on the lights, open doors, press elevator buttons, and even bark on command.

  My mind started racing at full speed.

  I said: GREAT IDEA!

  This would be an UNPARALLELED opportunity to impress the ladies . . . and do something good for others, of course!

  Monday

  ENORMOUS NEWS!!! I got a text from Naïs. She’s having a birthday party two weeks from Saturday, and guess what? Yes! She invited me.

  Hmm, well, give me a second to think about it . . . Umm, sure . . . that should work. I don’t have too much planned for that night.

  I’m going to wait until tomorrow to ask my mom. After her yoga class, she’ll be A LOT more relaxed and likely to say YES.

  Wednesday

  Jackpot! Yesterday, Mom said YES to Naïs’s party.

  And she came home from work today with a bag: she bought me new threads so I can look “presentable” for Mrs. Raymond. I thanked her and then stuffed the bag in my dresser before going to snuggle with my “fur” blanket.

  Saturday

  I spent the entire afternoon looking for a present for Naïs. I should’ve started way earlier, because, guess what, figuring out what to give a girl in the twenty-first century isn’t easy!

  Rule number one of the Comprehensive Guide to Romance: find out what your crush likes from her friends! Thankfully, there’s a gift shop downtown where they sell all sorts of gizmos. And believe it or not, but today is Valentine’s Day, so I found THE perfect gift.

  And in the zipper, I had the brilliant idea to slide in a poem that rhymed with Naïs.

  So whatcha think? Not too shabby, eh? Tonight’s the BIG NIGHT, and I’m ready to sweep Naïs off her feet!

  Sunday

  The day after Naïs’s party . . . How can I put this? . . . The night didn’t start out so well, because when I tried on the clothes my

  mom had bought me, I quickly realized they weren’t gonna work.

  This was a total catastrophe, because it was already 5:30 p.m., and the party was starting thirty minutes later.

  I would’ve loved to sneak down to Marion’s room

  and get my hands on that old patched jacket of my dad’s. I know I would’ve looked totally fly, but it was too late. I rifled

  through my closet and found the IAG shirt that we’d made with the stencil.

  It was the only wearable thing I had on hand, so I put it on, threw a sweatshirt over it, slid my gift in my backpack, and left. Mom tried to corner me at the door and see if I was “handsome.” But I managed to slip away quickly because I was already super late.

  When I arrived, there was a note for the neighbors taped to their doorbell, but someone had changed the words a little:

  I was sure Raoul or one of his goons had already been here.

  And I wasn’t wrong. Right when I walked in, I bumped into

  Damien Chico—who was holding something strange in his hand. He said it was an “energy drink” and we ALL had to try it or otherwise we’d be “sissies.” Basically, this idiot wanted to poison us!

  I had to put a stop to that. I found Nico, and I peeled Tom away from Célia’s hand to explain the situation. We quickly developed a plan.

  Phase one: Tom would get Damien’s attention by making him think that Célia had told him that Lucie Pichon was in love with him. Are you following me? Phase two: Tom would create a diversion so that Damien would let go of his can. Phase three: Nico would then grab the can and empty it, while I would monitor

  the entire operation to ensure everything went as expected. Our plan was FOOLPROOF.

  We emptied the can and replaced it with soda. Damien didn’t notice a thing, but afterward he wouldn’t stop clinging to Lucie.

  I also took the time to discreetly drop my present off in the middle of the others. After all that effort, I pounced on the food. There were cocktail weenies, mini-pizzas, an entire bowl of Atomics—my favorite candy—and . . . salt and vinegar chips!

  Hey, hey, hey! Apparently Naïs knows my weaknesses. That’s a good sign!

  But the big drag was that her grandma, Mrs. Raymond, was there.

  You know, the lady from Reading Passion? When she saw that Nico and I were there, she totally cornered us during the beginning of the evening.

  In fact, she really wanted us to sign up for next year—if we didn’t, the reading club might not be “renewed” because of the lack of students. Nico and I didn’t need to talk it over; doing it again was OUT OF THE QUESTION.

  So when the first song started playing, I sacrificed myself and invited Mrs. Raymond to dance in order to distract her.

  Luckily, at one point they put on Master Pim’s (a super trendy American rapper), and Raoul started doing this weird dance. He took little
steps with his feet and moved his elbows, like he was running

  a marathon in place.

  He told us that he’d seen the dance last summer at a mall in the United States and that it was called the “Running Man.” According to him, it was about to blow up over here. . . . He made Mathis, Damien, and Lucas do it with him. They looked

  completely ridiculous,

  but at least it got me out of dancing with Mrs. Raymond. After about five minutes, Nico was sick of watching them showing off, especially when Lena was all alone on the sidelines. He went to change the music and put on Pink Romance. He took Lena’s wheelchair and started turning slowly with her.

  As for me, I invited Naïs to dance.

  I happen to know Pink Romance is her favorite singer. Hey, hey, hey! THE HIGHLIGHT OF THE NIGHT. It was perfect . . . well, almost, because her grandma wouldn’t let

  us out of her sight.

  But after we danced, I had another issue: I was dying of heat from the lights, the disco ball, and holding hands with Naïs. . . .

  So I took off my sweatshirt. But I’d completely forgotten I was wearing my IAG shirt. I thought everyone was going to make fun of me, but actually, believe it or not, everyone at the party thought my T-shirt was super cool!

  And so we turned off the music, and Nico made a big announcement. He explained that we were starting a charity and that we were going to organize a sale at the end of the year to collect money for the Welcoming Wheelchairs organization, so that Lena and others with reduced mobility could get a service puppy!

  Let’s just say it was a big hit.

  Everyone applauded for us, starting with Lena, Naïs, and Célia.

  Then I felt Naïs getting closer to me . . . and it’s at that exact moment that her grandma came out with the cake. Naïs blew out the candles and unwrapped her presents.

  But just as she was unwrapping mine, Raoul snatched it from her hands. He laughed and said it reminded him of Mr. Boulfou’s hats. Mr. Boulfou is the social

  studies teacher who made us wear hats when we sang at Pleasant Gardens last year.

  Oh no! He opened the zipper to put his head inside the pillow, and he started singing “Hope and Life.” But that big doofus pushed too hard, and he couldn’t get it off.

  I caught it just in time,

  and I immediately hid it in the pocket of my jeans. Unfortunately, it was then impossible for me to put it back inside the pillow without being caught. I had to give up! I was so ticked off.

  At ten o’clock everyone went home. But there was a big problem in the stairwell: the steps were covered with confetti!

  Another stunt from one of those jerks! When we saw Naïs’s grandma’s face, Nico and I offered to clean it all up. To tell you the truth, dear future human, I think I scored serious points with Naïs. When we were leaving, she gave me a KISS on the cheek and told me I was

  awesome tonight. Now my only worry is that this morning I looked everywhere in my jeans, and I couldn’t find my poem. . . .

  Sunday

  Things aren’t going very well for one simple reason: I have to kiss IAG goodbye for the time being. You see, I’ve got another HUGE problem on

  my hands: Tom and Célia are OVER.

  For my part, I’m happy to see that old slug again, but it sucks to see him like this . . . not to mention their relationship had been a serious asset in my crusade for Naïs’s love. Long story short, I spent most of the break trying to boost this wimp’s morale. How can I put this lightly . . . his heart’s been shattered into a thousand pieces.

  Everything was going great until Naïs’s party, but after that things went south between them.

  And it’s only because of a box of snails. They got it in their heads to “test their love” by raising some snails together in an old shoebox. Each one had to watch the little guys every other week. But evidently, when Célia got the box back the day after the party, the snails had disappeared without Tom realizing.

  And she blew up at him.

  Phewwwie! If you want my opinion, girls are complicated. Since Tom was inconsolable, my mom suggested inviting him to Grandpa and Grandma’s house in Brittany for a few days. But it was actually a terrible idea, because seeing Marion and Tristan Le Bouzec smooching all day long brought back too many memories for him.

  But the worst was when one day we walked by Fastburger and the window still had an ad from the Valentine’s Day promotion.

  All of that gave him a nasty case of the blues.

  Saturday

  Our trip to England is coming up: in one month, the whole seventh-grade class will be there! The thought of leaving is good news—I feel like it’s about time for a change of scenery.

  But all this stalls our IAG plans again. Basically Mr. Cariou, the computer teacher, was supposed to help us start talking with our pen pals again. But guess what—our school’s videoconference system doesn’t work anymore! No surprise, if you ask me. So the teacher had us brainstorm, in groups of two, “original” ways to communicate with the English middle school that will welcome our class.

  We had to write down our ideas on little anonymous slips of paper, then the teacher read them to us. At first there were some good ideas:

  Nico and I were lucky enough to have our project chosen.

  The idea is to make a big package into which everyone will put a personal object that represents themselves and that will be useful during our exchange. We have one week to prepare it all!

  Tuesday

  Coming up with a personal object I could send to that ole Brit Conrad really had me scratching my head.

  I thought about putting my fur blanket in the package, since it perfectly represents my personality and it’d be useful when I was there.

  I could stand to treat myself to this little luxury (especially these days . . .), but when it comes down to it, it’s too bulky—and more importantly . . . it smells a bit like basement funk.

  So I settled on Extreme Excavator, my favorite comic. It turns out I had a second copy. It was the perfect chance for Conrad to make progress on his French before my arrival.

  Monday

  This past weekend, Tom, Nico, and I urgently met to finalize IAG. At last! Seeing as we’re leaving for England soon, we had good reason to hurry. Thankfully, the two wimps seemed to understand this. Nico’s mom gave us

  instructions for printing the shirts and hats, and we followed them to a T. We should receive our delivery when we get back home. After the England trip, we’ll need to organize the charity sale, and I suspect convincing the teachers won’t be a cakewalk.

  Thursday

  We are T-minus ONE DAY from departure, and this morning in computer class we received the package

  from our pen pals. They had the funny idea to make “riddle portraits” for us. From a bunch of cryptic statements, we had to figure out which English student each sketch described.

  Needless to say, I didn’t have much trouble recognizing Conrad’s.

  I’m actually really looking forward to seeing that old redcoat again. We leave tomorrow, and my bags are packed. England, here I come!

  Cheerio—I’m back! You can bet your sweet patootie I didn’t bring my journal. It was just too risky. Imagine if Raoul came across it?

  Anyway, I did try to stuff my furry blanket in my suitcase, but it was physically impossible.

  I had to stash it under my bed. Anyhow, a ton of stuff happened, but I’ll try to focus on the most memorable twists and adventures.

  For starters, to get there we all took the bus. Even Lena! Don’t ask me how all of that was possible, because going on a school trip with a disabled person is no small feat.

  You have to fill out tons of paperwork to get “financial assistance” and “authorizations.” A real pain!

  What’s cool was that Nico volunteered to help Lena w
henever she needed and push her wheelchair whenever she was tired. That sounds like something Lisa would have loved to do!

  Mr. Crazot, Mr. Cariou, and Ramoupoulos were our chaperones. Raoul and his losers totally stole the back of the bus, and they even had a table so they could have a little picnic! For the entire ride, they wouldn’t stop acting like they were at a restaurant and asking Déborah Pouyou and Chloé Dubuc to serve them. We also left an hour late, because Martin Picard

  didn’t hear his alarm clock. This guy is always running late. It’s practically a tradition of his . . . or maybe some kind of rare and unstudied disease.

  It’s so bad we’ve started calling him “MIA” Martin! As for pranks, Raoul and his dimwitted gang outdid themselves! Before we left, they rummaged in Paul’s bag to pilfer all of his underwear, and they slathered shaving cream on Jules’s hands while he was sleeping.