by Karen Rivers
SQUEE!
See also Kai.
Zebra
Is he black with white stripes? White with black stripes? STARE INTO HIS EYES. Are you slowly getting hypnotized? Are you feeling very sleeeeepy?
I have no new information about zebras. If you are looking for old information, I can tell you that they are horselike mammals that are either white with black stripes or black with white stripes. Which is true? You get to decide because no one knows the answer. Make one up. If you say something with enough authority, people will believe you, whether you know what you are talking about or not.
Zeppelin, Led
Mom and Dad’s favorite band. You’d think that because my mom is a ballerina-dancing doctor that she’d like sophisticated music, such as Beethoven. But no, both Mom and Dad prefer to shriek along with Led Zeppelin, which is actually one of the few things I think they have in common that they agree on.
I like Led Zeppelin for that reason. Not their music, though. Their music hurts my ears.
Zetroc Prom, The
The backward prom that is held at Cortez Junior at the end of September, for the eighth graders.
Normally, I would hate something like the Zetroc Prom. But now I don’t. Because I have a boyfriend! I won’t stand in the corner, waiting for someone to ask me to dance and hoping they don’t at the same time! I won’t hyperventilate while hiding in the bathroom, wishing I could leave!
Even more amazing, Mom took me shopping for a dress. I don’t remember ever shopping with Mom before. Usually, she’s at work all week and she’d give me money and I’d go with Freddie Blue. It took a bit of getting used to, to be honest. Her taste in dresses was a little too ballet and a lot not edgy. I wanted something edgy. Something awesome. Something that would make me look pretty but still like ME.
We looked in ten different stores and all we could find was sea foam green and purple with lace. It was malg. Totally and completely malg. Then, just as we were about to give up, I remembered FB’s mom’s shop. I knew it would be a bit weird to go in there, considering . . . everything. But I somehow just knew what I was looking for would be there.
The store smelled dusty. FB’s mom was on the phone, but she waved and smiled. I got the feeling that FB hadn’t told her that we’d had a falling out. I waved back.
It took exactly two minutes for me to find it: my dress. The perfect dress. It was my dream prom dress. And it fit.
“Oh, Tink,” Mom said when I put it on. “You look so . . . thirteen.”
I grinned. “Mom?” I said. “I’m thinking of going by Isadora now. Or maybe just Is.”
“OK,” she said. “Is. You look all grown up.”
I looked in the mirror and I couldn’t help agreeing. The dress was silk. One side was black and the other was white. It had a square neck, with twisted straps. It wasn’t floor length; it went to my knees. It was probably meant to be a mini, but I didn’t care. It was just what I wanted. Sophisto. But not Barbie.
Just like me.
It was perfect.
When I got dressed the next night, even Lex said, “Whoa, Tink, you look ______.” Then he paused and mumbled, “I mean, Isadora.”
“Thanks,” I said. Did he just compliment me? AND call me by my real name? Maybe the accident hurt his brain after all. Not that I minded. It was kind of . . . nice.
“Ready, kiddo?” Dad said.
“Yup,” I said.
I snuck one last look in the mirror. My hair was getting long and I did it in a full Afro. Kai knocked on the door and I opened it.
“Oh, hi,” I said. I felt really shy. He gave me a flower and I stuck it behind my ear.
“You look like a Caribbean queen,” said Dad, grabbing his jacket and jangling his keys. I felt super exotic when he said that. I felt interesting. He gave me a huge hug. “I can’t believe you’re old enough to have a boyfriend,” he added in a stage whisper.
“DAD,” I said. I could be wrong, but I think Kai blushed.
The ride to school was kind of awkwardly silent. I stole a couple of looks at Kai. He was looking out the window. Luckily Dad had the music on loud enough that we didn’t have to talk.
“You’re growing up!” Dad sighed, looking at me in the mirror. Kai pretended not to hear. Dad looked a little choked up and then pretended he wasn’t by bursting into a very, very exuberant version of one of his favorite songs.
“Thanks, Dad,” I said as we got out of the car.
“Thanks, Mr. Aaron-Martin,” said Kai.
“It’s Bax,” said Dad. He looked amused. “You’re making me feel old. Oh, look, there’s Freddie Blue. HEY, FREDDIE!” he yelled. I guess I sort of hadn’t told him that we weren’t BFFs anymore.
“You look really good,” Kai whispered. He grabbed my hand. “You look, um, amazing.”
“Thanks,” I whispered back. Freddie Blue was marching toward us.
“Hi, Tink’s dad,” she said.
“You look nice, Freddie,” he said. “Have fun! Do you have a boyfriend now too, suddenly? Where is he?”
Freddie’s face dropped imperceptibly. I mean, no one else probably noticed it but me. “Nope!” she said, like she didn’t care.
“Oh,” he said. “Well, got to go! Have a good time!”
Freddie Blue stood smiling until the car pulled away, then the smile fell from her face. “Tink,” she said. “I don’t think I can ever forgive you.” And she flounced off.
Really flounced.
Her dress was really amazingly . . . flouncy. Layers and layers of fluffy greenish blue sparkles. Truly, truly . . . awful.
“That looks like something a mermaid threw up,” observed Kai.
I giggled. When we got inside, Freddie Blue was twirling around the dance floor, dragging Andrew Young behind her. A bunch of girls were shooting them evil looks, probably his twelve other dates.
I looked around for Ruth. I finally spotted her dancing with Jedgar. She had a video camera in her hand, and it looked like she was interviewing him while she danced. Her dress was too big and she had to keep hitching it up.
“Let’s go talk to . . .” I started to say. But Kai put his finger up to my lips — JUST LIKE IN A MOVIE.
“Let’s dance,” he said. “I’ve been, like, practicing.”
If you have never fallen in love, this will not make any sense to you, but I think that I did, right then, when he grabbed me and started doing some kind of weird slow dance to a really, really fast song. I didn’t care. We just stood there and swayed.
I felt completely OK. For maybe the first time ever, I didn’t feel nervous or anxious or upset or like I couldn’t breathe. It was perfect.
I thought about how FB was always going on about how so-and-so “took her breath away.” If we’d still been friends, I would have waited until the end of the song and excused myself from Kai, then I would have found her and I would have said, “No, FB. You’re wrong. Love doesn’t take your breath away. Love makes it so you CAN breathe. It gives your breath back.”
Because that’s what it was like, exactly. Like I finally could breathe without thinking about it.
We danced a lot. Mostly just like that, slow.
With kissing, when the teachers weren’t looking. The kissing was the best part. I felt like a new person.
I was a new person.
I wasn’t Tink anymore. Tink was a kid.
Now I was Isadora. Is.
Isadora is.
Isadora is happy.
See also Kai; Kissing.
Zoo
A place where animals are stored after being kidnapped unceremoniously from their regular lives on the savannah or in the jungle or even the Arctic Ocean.
I have never been to a zoo. There. That’s all. That’s all I have to say about zoos.
And the letter Z.
And myself.
Am I done?
Did I actually just write an entire encyclopedia about myself?
Seriously?
And you read it?
S
eriously?
Wow.
Now for the quiz!
I’m joking.
There isn’t any quiz.132 I told you I wasn’t much good at jokes. I’m only good at dark, gummy sarcasm.
But I’m not being sarcastic when I say I love you, I love you, I love you.133 I really mean it. I can’t believe you read the whole thing.
I never thought I’d be interesting enough that anyone would read a book about me. But then a lot of things you think will never happen DO end up happening, I guess.
Like you lose a BFF but gain a BF.
Like you figure out who you are slowly, or it happens all at once, in a burst.
Like your family breaks and then, when it’s put back together, it heals along the breaks and is stronger than it was before. That happens to bones, you know. The broken parts never break again in the same place. The repair that your body does makes it too strong.
Now all that’s left to say is “THE END.” Even though real encyclopedias don’t do that either. But this isn’t a real encyclopedia. It’s better.
Just like I promised, remember?
This book took a very long time to write, during which time a number of people came and went from my life, both personally and professionally. In that way, this book feels like it spans a lifetime. I would be remiss if I did not thank the first people on the scene, the agents: Carolyn Swayze, who was first; Colleen Lindsay, who revitalized me with her amazing energy, and whose enthusiastic belief was contagious; and finally, Marissa Walsh, the last woman standing, who I hope will be with me for all the books to come.
To my editor, Cheryl Klein, who plucked this book out of the slush pile and breathed new life into my original idea, there are not enough words. “Thank you” feels inadequate, but . . . thank you. For the work, time, passion, insights, and consideration. I am still entirely astounded — flabbergasted, even—that I find myself on your roster, in the company of some of my most favorite of favorite authors. This experience was a dream — a dream that involved so much work, done with such passion, by such an amazing group of talented people. How did I get so lucky? Thank you, times a million, to all of you at Arthur A. Levine Books, both those I can identify and the ones whose names or faces I didn’t see. I know you were there, and I appreciate it all.
I love social media. I once said it was a “blip” and I was wrong. I am thankful to all of you out there who ever made me smile, encouraged me, or were just there alongside me as I accumulated pages, procrastinated, and revised. The Internet is the watercooler that writers gather around, and it never stops providing exactly what I need to stay motivated, grounded, inspired, and laughing.
On a more personal note, I am so blessed by and intensely grateful for my beloved family, the Rivers, for their ongoing support, time, love, and (sometimes slightly crazy) belief in my abilities.
Thanks must also go to my other family, for the Saturdays. And especially to Malcolm and Clayton, who taught me what autism really means.
A huge, giant, massive hug to my kids, who are too young to read this . . . yet. Thank you for being so purely yourselves; for the way you make each other laugh when I’m swamped with work; for listening to my favorite song with me so often and so loudly that the speakers broke; for dancing like lunatics on the furniture; and for giving me every reason I could ever need to keep going and also, sometimes, to stop.
A shout-out to all of you who don’t do olives and who know what that means. Every step of the way, you propped me up and kept me going and listened and gave me advice that I sometimes ignored but mostly followed. BFFs 4ever!
Finally, I am ever grateful for the financial support provided to me by the British Columbia Arts Council, whose grant program bought me the time early on to work on this novel and helped me to believe that it would really fly one day. Thank you.
Text copyright © 2012 by Karen Rivers
All rights reserved. Published by Arthur A. Levine Books, an imprint of Scholastic Inc., Publishers since 1920. SCHOLASTIC and the LANTERN LOGO are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.
Published simultaneously in Canada by Scholastic Canada Ltd.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Rivers, Karen, 1970-
The encyclopedia of me / Karen Rivers. — 1st ed.
p. cm.
Summary: As Tink Aaron-Martin writes an encyclopedia of her life, she also tells the story of the summer leading into her eighth-grade year.
ISBN 978-0-545-31028-4 (hardcover : alk. paper) [1. Interpersonal relations — Fiction. 2. Racially mixed people — Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.R5224En 2012
[Fic] — dc23
2011046292
Alaska: Grizzly Bear Growling © Dennis Donohue/Shutterstock
Couch, Itchy: Guy Jumping High on Sofa © Zurijeta/Shutterstock
Fish: A Piranha © Stephen Aaron Rees/Shutterstock
Hairless Cats: Hairless Oriental Cat © Vasiliy Koval/Shutterstock
Norway: Young Polar Bear © Dennis Donohue/Shutterstock
Pugapoo, Miniature: Pugapoo © rachelegreen / Wikimedia Commons / CC-BY-SA 3.0
Spanish: Bowl of Pasta © iStockphoto
Ukelele: Man Playing Ukulele © iStockphoto
Zebra: Zebra © Michal Ninger/Shutterstock
eISBN 978-0-545-46951-7
First edition, September 2012
The author gratefully acknowledges the support of the British Columbia Arts Council.
Cover photo © 2012 by Michael Frost
Cover design by Christopher Stengel
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Scholastic Inc., Attention: Permissions Department, 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012.
X Yay — you made it! Now, to return to your original place in the text, just select the footnote marker here again — the one at the beginning of this entry.
1 This was inspired by my dad, who took it upon himself to read the entire set of encyclopedias last year, which he began by buying a set of ancient books at a garage sale for $7. He did not get past A, although he lies and says he got to C. I know he is lying because if you ask him, for example, about Burundi, he just stares at you blankly and then says, “Is that a spider in your hair?” which is Classic Avoidance. I tried valiantly to outdo him — after all, imagine the accolades I would get for READING THE ENCYCLOPEDIAS! But after the first hundred or so entries I slipped into a deep and nearly irreversible coma triggered by severe boredom. I am just lucky I survived! And now know more than most people about Achill Island and the acoustic nerve.
2 I assume all aardvarks are suicidal. Because, really, what do they have to live for?
3 Dad’s dad is Jamaican. His mom is from St. Lucia, but actually she was born in England. It’s complicated, except I guess it really isn’t, as that’s all there is to it. If they were white people from Poland and South Dakota, no one would be ooohing and aaahing at the exoticness of Dad’s heritage, and Mom and Dad would just be a regular white couple who no one stared at in restaurants.
4 Aaron-hyphen-Martin because Mom didn’t want to take Dad’s last name when they got married and thought it would be perfectly nice to have her kids going through life sounding like they were named after a British sports car. Neither realized that it should have been “Martin-Aaron” because tradition says the dad’s last name goes last, besides which Mom says it “sounds better” this way.
5 UNLIKE ME. There is only one computer in our house that has Internet access, and that is Mom’s. In her office. Which she keeps locked. Unless it is truly an Internet “emergency” and/or Seb wants to use it. Seb is allowed. The re
st of us? Not so much.
6 The joke was this: “What does a ghost say when he sees a bee?” “Boo, bee.” You have to say it out loud in order for it to get a laugh, which it usually did, back when I used to tell it.
7 I am sure that actual peacemakers in Afghanistan or Africa do not use this technique. At least, I hope they don’t. If they do, it probably explains a lot about why there is no peace in the Middle East, or anywhere else for that matter.
8 When you are very, very short, there is grave danger in people viewing everything you do as adorable, in the way that everything that toddlers do is adorable. Also, some people — like your parents — forget that “short” does not mean “young” and treat you accordingly. Not good.
9 Mom LOVES to tell the Stuck Story, complete with Unwanted Details. The Stuck Story is why she went back to medical school and became a doctor who unsticks the stuck babies of the world. As a result of having listened to her tell the tale, I now hope to never have children, or maybe just adopt them from foreign countries like Australia or Brazil.
10 We were in the mall one time and Seb starting freaking out about a video game that he wanted and Mom explained to the clerk that Seb was autistic and the clerk said — and this really is the worst thing ever — “Oh, I thought they were mute. You wish, right?” I am still in complete and utter shock that he said that. I was only nine at the time and I walked right over and stamped very hard on his foot. Then Mom said, “She’s not autistic, she just knows an idiot when she sees one.” I still can’t believe I didn’t get in trouble.
11 Luckily, Mom just loves explaining Seb. In fact, she can talk for hours about autism and its many fascinating components! So I hardly ever have to say anything, which is handy as I have nothing to say.
