Good thing I have a backup plan, she thought to herself.
To: BrynnWins
From: Grrrrace
Subject: Back to School!
Hey, Brynn!
Are you amped to start school tomorrow? I hope you have a great time ruling the school! I’ll be jealous while I’m trying to figure out where all my classes are.
Sorry this is so short—I’ve got to get to bed!
Luv,
Grace
Alex> TUESDAY
BEEP
BEEP
BEEP
Alex groaned and rolled over to swat her alarm clock. “Six thirty already?” she moaned. It was the first day of school and she was already ready for summer vacation to swing around again.
Pulling herself out of bed, she stumbled out the door and down the hall to the bathroom. After a nice hot shower, maybe she’d start to feel like herself again.
After her shower, she pulled on the outfit she’d decided on the night before: her favorite jeans and a cool yellow shirt she’d gotten at the mall over the weekend. She blow-dried and brushed her long black hair and pulled it back into a ponytail, and as a finishing touch, put on a pair of white socks with little frogs on them and her favorite green sneakers. Appraising herself in the full-length mirror that hung in the hallway, she thought to herself, Perfect! Casual, cute, and not too girly. She was ready to face school.
Downstairs, her mother had poured a bowl of Cheerios for her and set it on the table with a glass of orange juice. “Eat up, Alex,” her mom said. “Excited about school?”
“Yeah!” Alex replied, sitting down and taking a big gulp of juice. “Totally. I got an e-mail yesterday about soccer tryouts, too—they are today after school. So I won’t be home till five.”
Alex’s mother put down the newspaper she was reading. “That’s very exciting, honey,” she said. “Do you know anyone else who’s trying out?”
“Well, I think a lot of the girls from my team last year will try out,” Alex said. Just then, Alex’s father walked into the kitchen, jangling his keys.
“Ready to go, Al?” he said. He leaned over and kissed Alex’s mom, and then looked at Alex expectantly. “We’d better get a move on if you’re going to be at school on time.”
“Can’t be late on the first day!” Alex’s mom said. She got up and walked over to Alex. “Take a few more bites, and then you should get going!”
Alex shoveled a few more spoonfuls of cereal into her mouth, and then stood up to kiss her mom good-bye. She grabbed her brand-new backpack from the floor, where she’d placed it the previous day, and shifted it onto her shoulders. “Ready!”
The drive to school didn’t take long. Alex’s dad gave her a few dollars for lunch, and she ran excitedly into the school lobby. Instantly, though, as she entered the crowded room, she knew she was more worried than she had let on. There were so many people packed in—and they were all so old! She felt like a baby—all the other kids were taller and bigger than she was. The boys looked like grown men, and the girls looked like adult women. Some of the boys even had mustaches! And the girls . . . well, they were obviously not in elementary school anymore.
In the corners of the lobby, Alex could see small groups of what had to be sixth-graders, all huddled together, looking young and scared. She stood stock-still and scanned the room, looking for a familiar face. Finally, she saw one across the room—her best friend, Bridgette. Their eyes met, and obvious relief crossed both of their faces. Thank God, Alex thought. Bridgette was wearing one of her typical anime-logo T-shirts. At least some things never changed. She scurried over to her friend.
“Hi!” Bridgette squealed, throwing her arms around Alex for a big hug.
Alex was about to launch into a long tale about her exploits at Camp Lakeview when a loud voice boomed over the loudspeaker. “ALL STUDENTS TO THE GYMNASIUM,” the man’s deep voice said. “ALL STUDENTS TO THE GYMNASIUM FOR WELCOME ASSEMBLY.” Bridgette and Alex looked at each other.
“Well, here we go,” Alex said nervously.
Bridgette laughed. “Oh, come on, Alex. It’ll be fun!” She looped her arm through her friend’s and propelled them both toward the gym, where the other students were beginning to gather. They made their way through the packed room and found seats on the end of the bleachers farthest from the door. Looking around the room, Alex was surprised that the school’s cheerleaders had already started to work. The walls were plastered with GO, ROCKETS! LAUNCH! THREE, TWO, ONE, BLAST-OFF! and other signs supporting the football, volleyball, and soccer teams. She was about to lean over to Bridgette and ask when the cheerleaders had started practice when the principal, Mr. Delaney, walked to a podium in the middle of the gym floor and began to speak.
“Welcome back, everyone,” his voice droned. “We hope you had a fun, safe, and educational summer.”
At this, some of the older boys laughed, and a boy behind Alex said to one of his friends, “Well . . . fun, anyway!”
“There are a couple of reminders: First, tryouts for the girls’ soccer team are tonight, on the main field, at 3 PM. Those who make it past cuts will meet tomorrow after school. . . .”
He went on talking, but Alex had stopped listening. First tryouts? she thought frantically. She hadn’t heard anything about there being cuts . . . Suddenly, she was very, very nervous. She tuned back in to the assembly just in time to hear Mr. Delaney finish talking. “. . . And good luck to all of you. We are glad to have you back,” he said half-heartedly. “Please go to homeroom, where you will receive your schedules and locker assignments.”
Luckily, Alex knew where her homeroom was. During the previous year, her class had come to the middle school to take a tour and learn the way around. She and Bridgette stood up and headed in the direction of the science wing, where their rooms were. Because Bridgette’s last name was in the end of the alphabet, she’d been placed into a different room, but Alex figured she’d still have some classes with her friend. She also had expected to know at least a few kids in her homeroom. But she didn’t—everyone was either older or from a different elementary school. She sat down near the front of the classroom and smiled tentatively at the girl sitting next to her, but the girl just looked at her and then looked away.
Her teacher took roll and passed out the schedules and locker assignments, and before Alex even had time to try to remember anyone’s name, the period was over and they were all thrust back into the crowded hallway.
As Alex walked down the hall toward her locker, she studied her schedule. It looked okay—basic stuff, like American history, geography, intro to algebra, a PE class, a study hall, and English. I can totally handle this, she thought. In fact, she was even sort of excited about American history, which she had first period.
At her locker (once she finally figured out how to open the combination lock) she made sure she had her new notebook and a bright red pen in her backpack. She slammed her locker shut and headed for American history, shoving her way through the hallway and praying no one would trip her—accidentally or otherwise.
She made it to class with seconds to spare, and breathlessly slid into the only open seat, which was right in the middle of the front row. As she pulled her notebook out of her bag and opened it to the first page, the girl next to her leaned over. “Hey, Alex!” the brown-haired girl whispered.
Shocked, Alex looked over. “Lucy!” she exclaimed. “Hi!” She and Lucy had known each other in elementary school, but not well. Still, Alex was glad to see any familiar face.
Their teacher walked into the room and closed the door behind him. “Good morning, class,” he said. “I trust that your summers were productive.” Alex heard some snickers from the back of the room, where she had seen some older boys sitting. “My name is Mr. Garfield, and I will be guiding you through a historical tour of the United States in the seventeenth, eighteenth, and nineteenth centuries. Girls,” he said, motioning to Alex and Lucy, “would you mind helping me pass out our guidebooks?” He pointed at a hu
ge stack of American history textbooks sitting on a table in the front of the room. Alex could feel her face turning red. She looked over at Lucy, who shrugged, and they got up and passed out the textbooks, being careful to not look anyone in the eye.
The rest of the morning passed uneventfully. Alex perfected running to her locker as soon as the bell rang at the end of class; once at her locker she’d cram whatever she needed into her bag. At lunchtime, she was overjoyed to see Bridgette and compare schedules; it turned out they had a math class together at the end of the day, and Alex spent most of the afternoon looking forward to seeing her friend.
It was weird, though. When they arrived in their seventh-period math class, Bridgette already had a small group of friends with her. She saw Alex come in and motioned her over to a nearby empty seat. “Hey, Al!” she said. “This is Vanessa and Mary-Ann.”
“Hey,” Alex said.
“We have, like, all our classes together!” Bridgette said excitedly. “How’s your day going?”
“Okay,” Alex replied. “This girl Lucy is in my history class first period, which is cool.”
“That’s good,” Bridgette said, smiling. She turned to Vanessa. “So, do you think he has a girlfriend?” she asked, picking up the conversation the girls had been having before Alex arrived.
Since Alex didn’t really know whom it was they were talking about, all she could do was sit quietly and hope she’d catch on soon enough. It was a long forty minutes.
After class, Bridgette gave Alex a quick hug and said, “Good luck in tryouts!” before she scurried away with Vanessa. Alex slowly walked to her locker to get her gym bag.
On the way to the locker room to change into her soccer clothes, Alex passed the computer lab and decided to go in. The big room was filled with dozens of computers, most of them already being used by kids trying to get a jump on their newly assigned homework. Alex slid into a chair and logged on. She quickly checked her e-mail and then accessed the blog set up by her bunk in order to keep track of everyone. There weren’t many entries yet—she figured everyone was busy getting back into the swing of things.
She glanced up at the clock over the door of the lab, and realized she only had about twenty minutes before she had to be ready and on the field. Sighing, she clicked on “Compose New Entry” and slid deeper into her seat. She had a sinking feeling that the tryouts were going to be worse than expected.
Posted by: Alex
Title: Soccer worries . . .
Hey, guys! Sorry to have my first-day-of-school blog entry be kind of a downer, but I wanted to vent a little. I’m supernervous about soccer tryouts—and they start in 20 minutes! I’ve never had to try out for a soccer team before, and I’m worried about all the older girls. I know I’m not going to be the star like I was in fifth grade. Any of you guys having experiences like this? Middle school’s like a whole different world! Anyway, I better go get dressed. Keep in touch, everybody, and I hope you’re all having a great time!
Love,
Alex
Before she could log off, Alex noticed that someone had already left a reply to her entry. She clicked on the line that read One Reply.
Posted by: Brynn
Re: Soccer worries . . .
A! You’re a great soccer player! No worries—you will be GREAT. Love you and miss you xo! Brynn
Feeling slightly better, Alex logged off from the computer and stood up, buoyed by her friend’s faith in her. She left the computer lab and headed down to the locker room, with butterflies in her tummy, but getting excited to play soccer again.
Posted by: Natalie
Subject: first day over!
hey, everyone. so, i just got out of my first day of school. it was pretty good—a lot of the kids were in my elementary school. i saw kyle . . . he looked supercute in a brown button-down and jeans. besides that, not much to report. i’m exhausted, though! all that running between classes! i’m going to ask my mom if we can go out to dinner to celebrate the first day of sixth grade.
luv you all,
nat
chapter THREE
grace> FRIDAY
“No, my favorite is definitely Romeo and Juliet,” Lara said. She picked up her can of apple juice and took a long sip. “I mean, Macbeth is cool—”
“You’re not supposed to call it that,” Greg interrupted her. “You’re supposed to call it The Scottish Play.”
“Isn’t that only when you’re like, performing it?” another boy, Andrew, jumped in. “I think you can call it Macbeth when you’re not.” He reached over and took a few of Greg’s potato chips.
Grace put down her bag of baby carrots. “What do you mean? Why can’t you call it Macbeth?” Her drama club friends knew the weirdest things about theater stuff.
“It’s bad luck, or something,” Andrew said, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t think it really matters if Lara calls it that when we’re working on scenes from My Fair Lady.”
“You’re probably right,” Greg said. “But I wouldn’t take any chances.”
Lara and Grace looked at each other and laughed. The four kids were seated cross-legged in a circle in their school’s huge theater, sharing snacks during their ten-minute break at drama club. It was only halfway through the club’s first meeting, but Grace had already become great friends with Lara, Andrew, and Greg. She even had plans to go to a movie with Lara over the weekend. She’d barely had time to feel guilty about lying to her parents, though she realized she’d have to do some damage control and tell Lara to just say she was Grace’s friend from class.
“Anyway, since I was so rudely interrupted,” Lara said teasingly, “like I was saying, Romeo and Juliet is my favorite. I just love Shakespeare. He’s so romantic.”
“Yeah,” Andrew said, rolling his eyes. “It’s so sweet how they die at the end.” He and Greg burst out laughing.
“Whatever,” Lara replied, pushing a strand of her long brown hair behind her ear. “All I know is, it’s romantic, and beautiful, and like, the best love story ever.” “I know,” Grace said excitedly. “When Leonardo DiCaprio finds Claire Danes lying on that—” She stopped abruptly, noticing Lara’s sly smile. “What?”
“It’s way more romantic in the actual play, Grace,” Lara said, grinning.
“Oh,” Grace responded, feeling slightly stupid. “I haven’t read it.”
“Really?” Lara asked nonchalantly. “We read it last year in my English class—”
“Wow, really?” Grace said. “Isn’t it pretty hard?” She knew that Shakespeare’s plays were usually read during middle school or high school—she couldn’t imagine someone reading it during a class in elementary school.
Lara shrugged. “Come on,” she said. “I mean, it is in English,” she joked, reaching over to squeeze Grace’s arm affectionately.
Grace looked down at the floor. “Yeah, I know,” she said. “I mean, obviously it is.”
Andrew laughed. “Whatever, Lara, we didn’t all go to smarty-pants school for fifth grade.” Grace relaxed a bit, remembering that Lara had gone to a super-exclusive private school, but had decided to stick to public school for sixth grade because there wasn’t a good drama club at the private middle school.
“Speaking of smarty pants,” Greg said, “can you guys believe the homework we have already?” He leaned over and grabbed one of Grace’s baby carrots and shoved it into his mouth.
“I know,” Grace said. Even on the first day of school she’d spent two hours doing homework, and the load had gotten considerably worse since. “I’ve had tons of homework every single night.” She took a deep breath and looked around at her new friends. “The worst part is,” she admitted, “my parents think I’m staying at the library after school instead of coming to drama club, so I have to hole up in my room and pretend like I’m on the Internet or something, or they’ll get suspicious.”
“How come they won’t let you be in drama club, anyway?” Greg asked.
Grace sighed. “It’s complicated,” she re
plied. She didn’t want to get into the problems she’d had in school the previous year. “They just want me to spend more time on my schoolwork, I guess.”
“It’s too bad that you have to lie to them,” Andrew said.
Grace sighed again. “Yeah, I know.” She flung the back of her head against her forehead dramatically to lighten the moment. “Anyway,” she said, changing the subject, “what kind of homework do you guys have for the weekend?”
“Where do I begin?” Greg joked. He leaned back and began ticking the work off on his fingers. “Two pages of math problems, a North American geography work sheet, plus there’s a quiz in my world history class on Monday that I totally have to study for. Can you believe there’s a quiz already?”
“That’s rough,” Andrew said sympathetically. “I only have to read the second chapter of Animal Farm. Shouldn’t be too bad.”
Greg moaned. “Oh, man . . . I have that too!”
“Me too,” Lara said, picking up one of Grace’s carrots and twirling it around in her fingers like a miniature baton. “Plus math. I’m going to try to get it done tonight, though—I hate doing work on the weekends!”
“Wow,” Grace said jealously. “You guys are all in the same English class? I don’t know anybody in my classes yet, except a couple of people who went to Washington Elementary with me.”
Greg and Andrew looked at each other. “No . . .” Lara said. “Aren’t you reading Animal Farm too? I thought it was a sixth-grade requirement or something.”
“Oh,” Grace said. “Um, no, my class isn’t reading it. We’re reading Hatchet right now.”
“I read that last year,” Greg said casually.
TTYL #5 Page 3
