Jana, Katie, and I zip out into the hall together. I fling my arms around their shoulders, which is something Jana would usually do. But I’m feeling peppy right now. It’s perfect timing for a drumroll moment. I open my mouth to say, “Guess what?”
But just then, Jana squeals and turns around. “Okay, I have news. Big news.”
“What?” asks Katie.
Torielle bounds up to our group. “You better spill,” she says, grinning. I notice she’s got aqua blue braces on today. I hadn’t noticed in the car. Torielle can make anything look good.
“We’re waiting,” says Torielle.
“Okay,” gushes Jana. “For math, I have Mrs. Keener, who is soooo hard.”
“That’s news?” Torielle shakes her head. “Everyone knows that. But she’s really good. And will prepare you for algebra next year.” Torielle would know. She’s skipped ahead in math.
“It’s not the teacher part,” says Jana as we walk up the cafeteria double doors. “It’s who’s in Mrs. Keener’s class.” She pauses dramatically and lowers her voice. “My new crush.” We pause in front of the caf entrance because there’s a mob of kids in front of us.
“Really?” I say eagerly. I can’t believe Jana and I have crushes at the same time. But of course, we do. We’re BFFs.
Katie laughs. “Well, it’s about time for you to have a new crush, Jana. It’s about two weeks since you were going on and on about Alfred, that basketball player.”
“Arnie,” corrects Jana, pushing through the double doors. We follow her in.
“So, who is it?” I ask.
We stroll into the cafeteria, looking around for an empty table. We like the round ones, because they’re smaller and you can’t be surprised by unwelcome or annoying visitors. “Okay,” says Jana. “Turn your eyes over to the Quik Cart.” That’s a cart where you can buy healthy food like bananas and yogurt.
We all pause, scanning for the Quik Cart. A cafeteria worker walks past carrying a fresh tray of sliced carrots for the salad bar. “See that guy who just sat down?” says Jana.
“Um, there’s probably like a hundred boys who just sat down,” says Torielle.
“But not over here,” says Jana. “Oh, let’s grab this table—hurry up!”
She plops down at a round table to our left before a boy with a SpongeBob t-shirt can nab it.
“Describe,” I say, sitting down in a chair next to Jana. Torielle sits on the other side of her, and Katie takes the seat next to Torielle. I place my lunch bag onto the table and pull out a thermos of soup. “In more detail.” I unscrew the lid, and steam from chicken rice soup puffs into my face. It smells delicious. Mom made it in honor of the first day of school. “We want to know more!” I take a spoonful.
“The ridiculously cute one,” gushes Jana. She pulls her sandwich out of her lunch sack. “With amazing blue eyes and curly brownish-reddish hair.” I whirl around, scanning the tables for someone who meets that description. “His name’s Jacob,” she adds. “And he’s new.”
I blink and feel lightheaded, but not in a good way. In an I’m-going-to-faint way. I drop my spoon with a clatter onto the table, but nobody notices. They are too busy staring at an extremely cute boy.
An extremely cute and very familiar boy.
“See!” says Jana, like she’s cheering on our team at a soccer game. “He’s wearing a blue shirt.” She might be saying something else but I’m not hearing.
He isn’t just any Jacob.
He’s my Jacob.
“He’s cute, right?” asks Jana.
“Uh kind of,” I squeak. If she likes Jacob, he’ll be sure to like her back. Boys always do. She’s so much fun and athletic and outgoing. And good at flirting. She’s the center of the orbit—honestly, the rest of us circulate around her. He probably will too.
“Kind of?” says Torielle. She waves a hand in front of my face. “Are you blinded by the fluorescent lights or something?”
A group of band kids tromps past me, swinging their instruments, and a clarinet almost smacks into my side.
“He’s really nice too,” gushes Jana. “And funny.”
Yeah, I know that. I blink, staring at the taco bar, specifically the shredded lettuce bin. Because I can’t look at Jacob, not now that he’s Jana’s Jacob.
It’s so unfair.
A few girls squeeze past our table carrying their lunch trays loaded up with slices of pizza. The smell of the cheese makes my stomach twist. Jana is talking on and on about Jacob like she’s some Jacob expert. Like she’s got a PhD in all things Jacob.
“And he plays goalie for a platinum traveling team, the Rattlers,” she’s saying.
I didn’t know that part. How does she already know more? I push away my thermos of soup. There’s just no way I can eat it now.
“He’s pretty perfect for you if he’s good at soccer,” says Katie enthusiastically. She bites into her salad. And I’m feeling like Katie is low-key sucking up to Jana.
On our soccer team, I’m a defender, but I’m just okay. Jana, on the other hand, is the star midfielder. She scores, she defends. She does it all. I mainly warm the bench. I’m really good at that.
“I know,” Jana is saying in her loud voice over the babble of the cafeteria. “He’s tall. I’m short. We both have names that start with J. And the soccer thing—I can practice shooting on him. It’s sooo perfect.”
Torielle puts an arm around Jana. “Okay, girls, this means that by the BFF Code, Jacob is now officially off limits.”
Katie pokes Jana in the shoulder. “Luckily, Jacob’s a troll, so you can have him. Ha, ha.”
“In the name of the BFF Code of Honor,” Jana jokes back, “I thank you for letting me have my troll all to myself.”
I want a hole to open up in the caf floor and just swallow me. Take me to some world where Jana does not know Jacob. Where they’re not perfect for each other.
Where Jana is allergic to soccer balls and bright blue eyes.
Where the star midfielder can’t practice shooting on the star goalie.
Sick. I’m really going to be sick.
Jana snaps her fingers in front of my eyes. I don’t even blink. I’m not sure I’m exactly breathing. I’m sure I look paler than the cottage cheese at the salad bar.
“Hello, Maddie, are you there?” Now it’s Torielle snapping her fingers in my face.
“Uh, yes. I was thinking about … all the homework I have already.”
“Really?” Jana laughs. “Since when do you think about homework?” It’s true. I’m not exactly like Elvie. Even the rest of my friends are more into school than me.
Katie leans in. “Maddie, you had something to tell us too. Remember?”
I freeze. Can I tell them?
“You promised,” says Torielle, wiping her hand on a napkin.
My lips feel dry. My throat feels like I’ve swallowed the entire plum in my lunch sack.
If Jana likes a boy, he always likes her back. My crush is now pointless. And completely against the BFF Code of Honor. But I could at least tell Jana that I saw him first and thought he was crush-worthy.
“There’s something else,” I say. “It’s about Jacob.”
But then at the table kitty-corner from us, I spot Fiona Callum. With her pale, white-blond hair and her oval-shaped face and oval-shaped glasses. She sits with her new friends, who apparently don’t mind sitting with someone who can’t keep secrets. Someone who blabs.
Fiona the Betrayer. That’s what we all call her.
Jana’s ex–best friend. Last year, she told everyone that Jana lied about her bra size and was using padding. It was just so mean.
And a week later, Jana had cut herself shaving her underarm and she was really embarrassed about it. So she had put a Band-Aid on it and said that she was cut while rock climbing with her family. But Fiona posted a photo of Jana shaving her underarm, and wrote the real reason that Jana was wearing a Band-Aid. Again, so evil.
Out of loyalty, none of us will talk to Fio
na.
I can’t become that girl. I can’t become a Betrayer and an ex–best friend. A lump grows in my throat. If I don’t say anything at all about Jacob, I prevent the possibility of being a traitor. I know what happens when you go against Jana. Like Fiona, I’d get totally cut off.
Anyway, there’s no way I could hurt Jana. She is my very best friend. She’d seriously do anything for me. She never leaves me out, and she always sticks up for me. Even when I just get my seven minutes of playing time on the soccer field, she’s the one cheering me on the loudest.
Anyway, she’s Jana. She’ll grow out of her crush. She always does. Like Katie says, just give her a week.
“What about Jacob?” asks Jana, her forehead furrows in worry. She balls up her napkin.
“It’s just … that … with his curly hair and tallness and bright eyes, it’d be really fun to draw a picture of him for you,” I say in what I hope is an enthusiastic voice.
“Awesome,” says Jana.
“Yes, awesome,” I say, swallowing the lump in my throat that just grew a whole lot bigger.
Chapter Six:
KEEP CALM
I’m still feeling queasy after lunch as Jana and I stroll into Social Studies. It’s one of the few classes we have together. History posters, timelines, and banners plaster the walls. They say things like:
DEBATE: TWO SIDES TO EVERY STORY
KEEP CALM AND DEBATE ON
SOCIAL STUDIES ROCKS!
CHANGE THE WORLD. LEARN HISTORY.
“I can’t believe how many posters Ms. Yoon has,” I murmur to Jana over the chatter in the room.
“It’s seriously like an art gallery,” she agrees.
Some kids stand around chatting while others sit down at desks. Ms. Yoon is tall and has long dark hair with one pinkish streak.
“Hi, Jana!” calls out Fiona from across the room.
“Hey, Fiona,” Jana says in a flat voice. She waves, but under her breath she says in an irritated voice, “Great. She’s in this class.”
Fiona wears jeans and a hoodie, even though it’s not cold. She dresses in a casual sporty way, sort of like how Jana used to dress before she got a little more fashionable under Torielle’s influence.
Fiona smiles at Jana as if they are long-lost family, which I guess they kind of are. Fiona completely confuses me. How could she be so callous to Jana one year and then feel like she can say hello to her as if nothing happened? Actually, I feel embarrassed for Fiona. She’s trying so hard. Can’t she tell that there’s no way that Jana is ever going to forgive her? I’ve heard both Torielle and Katie talk about it. Once Jana’s your friend, she’d give away her last dollar to you. But if you cross her, watch out!
Two boys strut into the room, and Jana’s eyes grow big. One of them is Landon Linklater, and the other is Jacob. Jacob waves and sits with Landon in the back row. I feel my face getting warm.
Jana lowers her voice. “Jacob’s such a wall when it comes to goalie. Last year, in one game, he made thirty-three saves.”
“Oh,” I say. “You already know so much about him.” I feel a flicker of irritation. Even if he’s now officially her crush, I met him first.
“I mostly have just heard a lot about him,” Jana says.
“Really? From who?” I ask.
“Fiona.”
“Does she like him too?”
Jana shakes her head. “Eww, no—she’s his cousin.”
“Oh, right. I think I heard that.” I have not actually heard that.
“I’m Ms. Yoon,” says our teacher, who has just finished writing on the whiteboard. “We’ll start in a few minutes.” Ms. Yoon looks super young, like maybe she recently graduated from college. She wears jeans and a really pretty red cable-knit sweater. Her hair shines in the lights as if she’s a model in a shampoo ad.
A lot of kids are already seated, and a couple of latecomers stream in carrying their backpacks. Something smells chocolaty but I can’t tell where it’s coming from. As the classroom fills up, I get a stomach-jumpy feeling. It’s because Jacob is so close.
Out of the corner of my eye, so that I’m not obvious, I sneak a glance at him. He’s opening his binder. And that’s when I know I have to stop liking him. At least for now. Until Jana stops liking him.
Ms. Yoon strolls around the classroom and nods as the bell rings.
“Looks like it’s time to start class. I’m so ridiculously excited to start our year!” Ms. Yoon pulls a screen down over the whiteboard and grabs a remote. “Could someone turn off the lights?”
“I will!” yells Bryce Pisani from across the room. He practically jumps over a desk to turn off the lights.
Ms. Yoon clicks on a photo of the Romans clad in armor. “How many people think history is boring?”
A few kids raise their hands.
“Don’t be shy,” she says. “You can admit it.”
More kids raise their hands. Next she explains that not only are we going to study the past, but we are going to debate it. That we will look at primary and secondary resources.
“It doesn’t matter if you don’t know what I mean yet—soon you will. While there will be some individual work, this year is going to be mostly project-based learning, or PBL,” she explains. “That means that for much of the time we’re going to work in groups. One of the main ways we’ll look at history is to debate various topics, everything from ‘Why did Rome Fall?’ to ‘The Effectiveness of the Justinian Code.”
“What’s that?” asks a girl in the back.
“You’ll find out soon enough.” Ms. Yoon flashes a slide of a statue. “This is Julius Caesar, a ruler of Ancient Rome. In this class, you’re not just going to read about him. Later on this semester, you’re going to be him.”
“Is this an acting class, or Social Studies?” I whisper, shaking my head.
Jana shrugs, but I can tell she’s thinking it sounds neat. Jana doesn’t have a shy bone in her body.
Ms. Yoon projects a photo of a student wearing a toga and a wreath. Everyone laughs. “Don’t laugh, because that’s going to be you,” she says. “Well, only if you pick Julius Caesar as your Roman historical figure. There will be many to choose from.” She clicks through to another slide, and it all it says is “Debate is fun!”
A few people shake their heads, including me.
“It’s okay for you to be dubious,” says Ms. Yoon. “Most of you haven’t tried it. The first thing we’re going to do is learn how to debate. And in order to do that I’m going to assign you debate groups.”
My hand shoots up, and Ms. Yoon nods at me. “Does everyone in the group have to debate, or could we just do the research?”
“Everyone has to debate,” she says, scanning the classroom. “Each and every one of you. No exceptions.”
I hold in a groan, and Jana gives me a sympathetic smile. Still, I know she’s not worried. That’s why she’s captain of our soccer team. My shoulders tense just thinking about speaking in front of everyone.
“You’re going to learn basic debating techniques,” says Ms. Yoon, “such as the presentation of your main argument and how to create a rebuttal. And when it comes to the actual debate, you won’t be memorizing speeches or reading aloud already-written scripts—just glancing at your notes.”
We can’t read anything? I’m starting to feel not so great. If I have to speak in front of people without even writing it out beforehand, there’s no way I can get a good grade in this class. Everyone is going to see me crash and burn.
But Ms. Yoon looks super excited. She’s speaking in an enthusiastic voice about how we’ll use our knowledge in the moment while we’re debating. She makes wide gestures with her arms. “It’s going to be all about teamwork, research, and fun! And did I mention fun? On our special debate days, we’ll bring in snacks like popcorn and cookies. It’ll be a party!”
A bunch of girls clap and even stomp their feet. Really? They actually think that would be fun?
“In this class, we even have some membe
rs of the debate team, such as Fiona Callum.” Fiona gives a little fist pump into the air. “And Keisha Tinsley.” Keisha waves. “I’m hoping that you will all love debate so much you will join the team too,” says Ms. Yoon.
Not likely. As in, never! That’s the very last thing I would ever do.
Ms. Yoon puts her hand to her forehead as if she’s a sailor gazing at the sea. “Maybe a few of you debaters, those of you who have participated on the debate team, could stand up and say a little about it.”
The first person to stand up is Fiona. Her hoodie has a picture of a clarinet on it. Underneath it says I play well—which seems so conceited to me! “Even if you think you can’t debate, you can,” she says smugly. “You might have to work for it, but debating can give you superpowers.” She smiles widely so you can see her full set of braces. What a show-off.
Then Ms. Yoon calls on Jacob, and my heart hiccups, even though my mind says I don’t care about him.
He moves forward from the back of the classroom. It’s crazy, but I can feel his nearness, even though I don’t turn my head to look at him when he brushes past. He starts to talk, shaking his mop of gorgeous hair out of his eyes as he speaks.
Jana is staring straight at him.
I’m trying to be more subtle and sneak glances. Jacob puts his hands in his pockets and rises on the balls of his feet. “I’m Jacob. I’m new. But I already know a lot of people here. And in case you didn’t know, Fiona is my cousin, so debate runs in the genes.” He looks at her and grins, and she gives him a big thumbs-up. “At my old school I debated. It was fun. You get to bang on the desks and stuff.” Jacob makes it sound better than Fiona does. Maybe because he makes it more of a joke. Fiona isn’t exactly known for her sense of humor.
Jana arches her eyebrows significantly and cups her hand to whisper to me, “He’s smart too.”
Pumpkin Spice Secrets Page 3
