Amanda: Yeah. I get it. That’s why you’re always on the honor roll. I’ll try. Thanks.
Katie: Love you!
[TEXT]
Katie: Call me. Sob story to share.
[FACETIME]
Amanda: Hi, Katie. What’s up?
Katie: Here it goes. Long story short, or maybe short story long, last fall we were told at the beginning of art class that a big part of our final grade would be to critique an art show or the work of a single artist in a museum or gallery. I didn’t write the assignment down, and when I did think about it, I knew I had plenty of time to get it done. In January my friend Susie asked where I’d gone to do my critique. She’d been to the city art museum and had a ball criticizing some modern guy who just made black splotches on white canvas. I told her I hadn’t done it yet. I wanted to learn more about the whole field of art before I wrote it. How’s that for a lame excuse? “But it’s due tomorrow,” she said. What? Tomorrow? How was I going to get to a museum or gallery before they closed that afternoon? Eek! I had soccer practice until five. I caught the late bus home and tried not to cry the whole way. I had an A in art at midterm and I was going to end up failing because of some stupid paper I’d forgotten about. I was full-out bawling when Dad got home from his office. Lucky me.
At work at the hospital, he had noticed that there was an art exhibit in the entrance hall. As you know, hospitals never close. He gave up his basketball game on TV to take me there after supper.
Amanda: Oh no! How much did your grade drop in that class?
Katie: Luckily it didn’t. I had to stay up all night writing the paper, so I was a mess at the game the next day. My poor coach had to take me out for a sub, but I did get the paper in on time. I’ll never do that again! Even though my art teacher thought it was “so creative” of me to “think outside the box” and go to see the work of an artist outside the usual venues like galleries and museums. I might well have discovered an up-and-coming genius whose work would be on museum walls one day. Besides, art should belong where ordinary people will see it and begin to appreciate its value. Blah. Blah. Blah. Well, you can bet I didn’t tell her why I’d chosen the hospital exhibit or when or whose idea it was. But I’m not counting on that kind of luck to happen again. I nearly died of stress before those twenty-four hours were over. Don’t do what I did, Amanda. Be more organized, I beg you!
Amanda: Wow! Thanks. I have a calendar on my phone. I guess I better use it.
Katie: Now you’re talking! Bye for now. Love you!
[TEXT]
Amanda: Just got an essay back from my English teacher. Ogre makes us write one every week. Full of red marks. And I spell-checked it and everything
Katie: Spell-check conversation!
[FACETIME]
Katie: Hi, Amanda.
Amanda: Hey thanks for calling. I’m so lost.
Katie: Don’t worry about it. I did the same thing, and I learned the hard way. Do not rely on spell-check! It does not always work. If it’s a word in the dictionary it will pass over it, even if it is not the word you meant. Like their for there or vice versa. I think the ogre would call it cheating if your English major mother wrote your essay, but he probably wouldn’t mind if she checked your spelling before you handed your paper in.
Amanda: I just wish everything weren’t so hard. I’m already tired, and I’ve only been at Elm Street Middle School three weeks. I’m really having trouble keeping up.
Katie: I’m so sorry to hear it. But you’re smart, and you’ll do just fine in middle school. Yes, the work is harder and there’s more homework. But try to think of it as a challenge—just like soccer. It’s more fun if your opponent is really good, right? It’s the close games—the ones you win by the skin of your teeth—that are exciting and that you remember with pride.
Amanda: I guess that’s true. Thanks, Katie. I’ll try. I really will. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Love you!
[FACETIME (after 3 missed calls)]
Katie: Hi, cuz. Is something wrong?
Amanda: I don’t think I’m trying out for soccer. Everyone says that the sixth-grade team stinks—and I won’t have a chance to play junior varsity. I think I’ll just stick with league soccer for now.
Katie: What you’re hearing about the sixth-grade team may not be true.
Amanda: Trying out for the soccer team just doesn’t feel good to me. What do you think I should do? Should I try something else?
Katie: Here’s the great thing about middle school: There are so many other things you might want to try besides soccer. In a school that size, they must have lots of clubs—drama, chorus, orchestra. If you’re still playing a horn, the music teacher will love you! Lucas hated middle school until someone—could it have been his awesome sister?—steered him toward the school newspaper. When my brother saw his first story in print, he was suddenly the most devoted booster of middle school—the place he’d sworn he’d hate forever.
Amanda: Do you think I should audition for the fall musical? Would a first-year have a chance?
Katie: Listen. You’re a good singer and a pretty fair dancer. If you want to audition, go for it! You won’t be cast if you don’t try out. And who knows, you might just get a part. Think about it, and good luck! Love you!
[TEXT]
Amanda: ! You’ll never believe it! I’m in the school play! Just the chorus but it is SO much fun!
Katie: Congrats! When’s the performance? I’ll come if I can. I know Mom and Dad would love to come too. Even Lucas might tag along.
Amanda: It’s December 15 and 16 but it’s just a middle school musical. And I’m only in the chorus. No big deal.
Katie: I beg to differ. You’re a big deal to us!
• • •
Amanda: THANK YOU for coming to the show. We weren’t supposed to look out at the audience but I couldn’t help seeing all of you. Our family took up most of the second row! You guys are so awesome. xxxoooo Merry Christmas! Let’s talk over the holidays.
Katie: Yes!! Merry Christmas!
[FACETIME]
Amanda: Hi, Katie. I can’t believe I have so much homework to do over the holidays! I haven’t finished reading my book for English. And I should do some review in math. I did okay on my midterm report, but finals are coming up a few weeks after New Year. I spent a lot of time in rehearsals for the show, so I let a few things slide.
Katie: Okay, I get it with the work, but you’ve got to have some fun, too. That’s what holidays are for!
Amanda: Don’t worry! A bunch of us are planning a New Year’s Eve party. My parents offered our house. Sounds generous, right? But we all know it’s so they can keep an eye on things. They don’t know a lot of the kids who’ll be coming—you were right. I have made new friends at school. But even with the hawk eyes in residence, it’s the first time I’ll have an actual New Year’s party.
Katie: That sounds awesome, Amanda! And it’s so good to hear about your new friends. I knew you could do it. You’re the best! Love you!! Happy holidays!
[TEXT]
Amanda: I got my semester grades today. Not all As like you, but good enough. I survived my first semester and I actually like it. You really helped me. Thanks!
Katie: You’re the one who did it, Amanda. You go girl!
Katherine Paterson is the internationally acclaimed author of many beloved books for kids, including Bridge to Terabithia and Jacob Have I Loved, both of which won the Newbery Medal. Born in Qingjiang, China, she has two older and two younger siblings, and together the family moved all over the country and all over the world. Reading and writing have always been her favorite activities, and in sixth grade, in Winston-Salem, North Carolina, she started writing plays for her friends and herself to act out during recess. She makes her home
in Montpelier, Vermont, where she is an activist for education and literacy. She has four children, seven grandchildren, and a faithful dog named Pixie.
Jordan Paterson attends high school in New Canaan, Connecticut. She is the goalie for her high school varsity soccer team, and she loves to sing and play guitar. She has a brother in college and a dog named Scout. Katherine Paterson is her grandmother. “TBH I Need HELP!! ” is their first professional collaboration.
The squirrels were terrorizing the front yard.
I watched them from the chair by the window. As they ran up and down the big tree, they knocked loose some of the old leaves, which drifted to the ground. I figured I might have to help Lucy make the leaves into a pile later. It wasn’t my favorite thing to do, but I’d take any chance to spend time with Lucy.
We’re best friends, you see.
Just then, I saw her coming up the street more quickly than usual, jogging like she does when she chases me at the park.
I heard Alpha Mom stand up from her desk at the back of the house. I glanced out the window one more time to see that Lucy was still running. She was almost home!
Squirrels, you have not seen the last of me.
I jumped down from the chair, then went to sit by the door—near, but not too near, like I’m supposed to anytime someone comes to the house.
Alpha Mom appeared in the doorway to the kitchen and looked at me.
“Good boy, Kimchi,” she said. “Good boy!”
* * *
—
Lucy rushed into the house and dropped her backpack just inside the door.
“MOM!” she yelled.
“I’m right here, and my hearing is excellent,” Mom said from the kitchen doorway.
“Oh—I didn’t see you. Wait till I tell you. It’s so cool!”
Meanwhile, Kimchi was wagging his tail and grinning and making happy whining noises, so Lucy bent down and scratched his neck and ears. “You listen to this, too, Kimchi—you’re gonna love it! Mom, guess what, guess what?”
Mom held up her hands. “I have an email that I absolutely have to finish. How about you pick up the backpack and make us both a snack. By that time I’ll be done, and I promise you my undivided attention.”
“Okay,” Lucy said. She grabbed the pack and heaved it into her arms. It weighed a ton. Not for the first time, she wondered if textbook publishers got paid by the pound.
Pack neatly stowed, Lucy went into the kitchen and did what she thought of as “spelunking” in the fridge. The house rule was healthy snacks between meals, treats for dessert. Lucy got out cheese and crackers and grapes, all of which she liked. Still, she rolled her eyes and muttered, “There’s never anything good.”
Mom came back into the kitchen just in time to hear. “If by ‘good’ you mean ‘of minimal nutritional value,’ there’s ice cream”—pause, Mom-glare—“for after supper.”
“Fine.” Lucy popped a grape into her mouth. “Just listen. At school today, last period was Club Assembly. For the sixth graders. We went to the cafeteria, and there were all these booths for the school clubs. And we got to go around and talk to the seventh and eighth graders who are members and sign up for the clubs we’re interested in.” She waved a piece of cheese in the air. “There are so many! Geology Club, Chess, Cooking, Gardening—it was crazy!”
Mom got that look on her face, the one where she was frowning but not letting it show. “Luce, you’re already pretty busy,” she said. “You’ve got trumpet and tai chi. That might be enough. Plus, you’re going to have more homework than you did last year.”
“I knew you’d say that,” Lucy said between bites of cheese. “I like being busy, but I don’t want to be stressed, so I only joined one.”
Pause.
“Okay, tell me,” Mom said. “I can’t bear the suspense.”
Lucy bent over to pick up Kimchi. Kimchi was a pound puppy, a mutt with traces of terrier. He was what Mom called a “one-arm dog,” meaning that he could be picked up with one arm. He was perfect—not just in size, but in every way, as far as Lucy was concerned.
Lucy cradled Kimchi like a baby. “Animal Welfare Club! I joined Animal Welfare Club, yes I did! What do you think of that, Kimchi?”
Kimchi wagged his tail and kissed her, then sniffed at her hand. Lucy put him back down on the floor. He promptly sat at her feet and tilted his head. It was his “I’m NOT begging for cheese, nope, not me; I’m such a GOOD dog that I’d never even think of begging for cheese” look.
Lucy laughed. She kissed the top of his head and gave him a little piece of cheese. “Sudipta joined too. We’re all supposed to bring in photos of our pets to the first meeting, and come up with fund-raising ideas. We’re raising money for the Way Station Animal Shelter. And we meet on Tuesdays, when I don’t have trumpet or tai chi, so it works out just right, see?”
“I believe I’m being informed, not asked,” Mom said, “but I’ll answer anyway. You can try it for a while and we’ll see how it goes.” Then she smiled. “It sounds great, Lucy. Right up your alley.”
“No—right up my dog run!”
* * *
—
On Tuesday morning, Lucy carefully tucked her favorite photo of Kimchi into the middle of a crisp new notepad. The pad was the size of a pack of index cards, with a paw print on the cover—perfect for taking notes during Animal Welfare Club meetings.
Lucy flipped to the front of the pad. Mmm, that new-paper smell was the best! Well, almost new. She’d written down a bunch of fund-raising ideas on the first page: Hold a bake sale. Offer pet-sitting and dog-walking services. Rake leaves.
Even though the seventh and eighth graders had more club experience, Lucy was determined to become a valuable member, starting with today’s fund-raiser discussion. The other sixth graders would probably leave the talking to the older kids. But Lucy had thought hard about her ideas, and she intended to share them. Loudly.
Lucy didn’t believe in doing anything halfway. She wanted to be a real presence in Animal Welfare Club. Maybe in two years, she’d even be club president….
As she boarded the school bus, Lucy saw Sudipta, her best friend—her best human friend, to be precise—waving from a seat near the middle of the bus. They always tried to avoid sitting too close to the crazy eighth-grade boys in the back.
“Which pic of McGonagall did you bring?” Lucy asked, plopping down and bumping shoulders with her friend.
Sudipta pulled a folder from her backpack and opened it. Inside was a photo of a tabby cat lounging across two fluffy pillows on Sudipta’s bed.
Lucy laughed. “Look at her! She’s in ultimate princess mode.”
“I know, right? My dad always says it’s McGonagall’s house—we’re just living in it.”
Sometimes a grown-up would declare that they were a dog person or a cat person. Lucy and Sudipta agreed that this was ridiculous. Why choose? They loved dogs, cats, and all animals. When they were little kids, they even used to rescue spiders and other bugs they found inside by taking them outside. And Sudipta was a vegetarian. Lucy didn’t eat meat often either…but she made an exception for her grandma’s irresistible bulgogi.
When they got to school, the day flew by faster than a greyhound. It was only their third week back, early enough in the year that everything still felt exciting. Lucy thought she was getting the hang of switching rooms for every class, and she loved exchanging notes on the whiteboard in Sudipta’s locker. (They knew each other’s combinations, of course.)
After last period, Lucy loaded up her backpack with all the books she needed to do her homework, then headed to Mr. Mendoza’s classroom for Animal Welfare Club. Sudipta was already there. Lucy slid into the desk next to her.
Mr. Mendoza, the Spanish teacher, sat at the front of the room, tapping away on his laptop. Lucy had learned at Club Assembly that Animal Welfare Club wa
s student run, but Mr. Mendoza was the faculty advisor.
Sudipta leaned over to whisper into Lucy’s ear. “He’s been doing that since I got here. He hasn’t said hi to anyone.”
“Maybe he’s like McGonagall,” Lucy whispered back. “He ignores you unless you feed him.”
They giggled together. Sudipta’s giggles always ended in a snort. Lucy would know that snort anywhere.
“Hi, everyone,” said a voice by the windows. “If you could take a seat and turn your desks this way, please…”
Everyone rotated their desks ninety degrees to face the windows, so now Mr. Mendoza was off to the side. A pale freckled girl with red braids and glasses stood next to a boy with medium-brown skin and a backward baseball cap.
Eighth graders. They seemed so…tall.
The girl took a breath and began, “I’m Grace, and this is Tarek. We’re the copresidents of Animal Welfare Club.”
“Thanks for coming, you guys,” said Tarek. “Let’s start by going around and introducing ourselves.”
“And tell us about any pets you have!” Grace added.
“I’ll go first. I’m Tarek, and this”—he pulled his phone from his jeans pocket and held it up—“is my ball python, Romeo.”
Lucy gasped and clutched Sudipta’s forearm. On Tarek’s phone screen was a close-up of a coiled snake in a glass aquarium. The snake had beady eyes and intricately patterned greenish-brown skin.
“So cool,” Lucy whispered.
“Romeo is nonvenomous,” Tarek went on. “He’s two years old, and he could live up to thirty years.” Then he pocketed his phone and nodded at Sudipta, who was sitting nearest to him, indicating that she should talk next.
Totally Middle School Page 8
