by Michael Fry
Just as I was about to dive in for another bite a cute little wormy thing popped out of the Jell-O. It wiggled hello at me.
How cute. Then another one popped up. And another. And another. My, that’s a lot of wormy things wiggling hello, I thought. That’s when I noticed the suction cups on the wormy things. And I realized they weren’t wormy things.
And they were after me!
I froze. That’s when the tentacles wrapped around me in a death grip. The Jell-O started to boil and I came face-to-face with . . .
A part of me was terrified, sure. But another part was like, this is weird. Still another part was, hey, this is all dream. But then the last part said . . .
The giant squid opened its mouth revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth. I was done for. It was going to eat me. But I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry out. I just wondered . . .
That’s when I woke up. And that’s when I said,
After I stopped feeling my heartbeat in my eyelids, I figured the giant squid nightmare must have something to do with going to the new school. My mind was just playing tricks on me! There is no giant squid.
Breathe. One. Two. Three. Calm. Down.
It’s just a new school. It’s nothing to be afraid of.
Breathe. One. Two. Three.
Because I would do more than just “fit in.” I would be invisible. I would fly so far “under the radar” that no one would even know I was there!
I would go full stealth, middle-school ninja.
I mean, fitting in is easier if no one even knows you’re there, right?
Yeah. That didn’t happen. This happened.
So much for blending in.
Chapter 6
There’s this thing my dad says when I’m giving everybody the silent treatment.
Like a lot of things my dad says . . .
. . . it doesn’t make much sense.
The cat thing didn’t make any sense either until one day we were cat-sitting Mr. Gibbles from next door and I made the mistake of falling asleep on our couch.
I coughed up cat fur for the next three days every time I tried to speak.
Which is exactly how I felt when twenty-two strange kids at St. Regents Prep stared at me as I attempted to “tell them about myself.”
The teacher saw the terror in my eyes.
“Bobbie? Christmas holidays?”
Oh yeah. That.
“Okay, thank you, Bobbie,” said the teacher. “We’re glad you’re here.”
I slid back into my seat and let out a sigh of relief. I’d survived my worst nightmare. Everybody bought it! I could officially start my life over as a regular old twelve-year-old!
Hang on.
Chapter 7
The kid’s name was Cole Crusterman. He wasn’t like the other kids. He wasn’t like any kid. He had a LOT of extra-curricular activities.
To say this kid was an overachiever was an understatement.
The bell rang. I darted out of class as fast as I could. But not fast enough to escape Cole.
“Wait up!” he shouted after me. “I was hoping I could interview you?”
“For what?”
“A profile piece for the school paper,” he said. “My profiles are super popular, second only to my eight-part cafeteria exposé. . . .”
No way was this happening. But before I could get in his face he held out his phone to record me and continued.
“Smile, you’re being live-streamed,” said Cole.
“Live-streamed?” I asked. “Who the heck would be watching that?”
“Currently no one, but I’m hopeful for my first viewer soon!”
This kid’s nuts.
“So I was on your uncle’s site,” he continued. “Very interesting. Do you share any of your uncle’s interests?”
I yelled, “NO! Uncle Dale and I have NOTHING in common!”
“What about Phil and Dew Drop?”
“Gumdrop.”
Cole stared at me.
I stammered, “I . . . I . . . I don’t know why I said that. I don’t know any Phil or Gumdrop or any elves for that matter!”
Cole smiled. “Who said anything about elves?”
This kid was really getting on my nerves. I grabbed his phone and said,
Cole said, “Is that on the record?”
We arrived at my locker.
“No!” I said. “I mean, yes. I mean . . . I don’t know what I mean. Please, just leave me alone. I’m just a supernormal kid. Believe me. Totally normal. Nothing weird about me. No, sirree. BORING!”
I opened my locker.
Chapter 8
I slammed my locker shut.
“You okay?” asked Cole.
This was a must-lie situation.
“Uhhhh . . . it’s a spider. A huge, hairy . . . farting spider.”
“Whoa! Really? Lucky for you I’m head of the school’s Arachnids Are Awesome Association. I’d love to photograph it for our blog!”
What is wrong with this kid?
Okay, so I’m not proud about this next part, but something drastic had to be done.
I slammed my locker shut. “You’re really nosy. I want you to mind your own business and leave me alone. I’m not talking to you or your stupid newspaper or your live stream that nobody watches!”
Cole looked hurt.
He looked down at his shoes. “Thank you for your time, Bobbie. I hope you’ll reconsider.”
He left. I felt bad. But I had no choice, right? I had two diminutive sprite beings in my locker. At least they were being quiet.
Chapter 9
Ugh . . . elves.
Other than being super annoyed, the first thing I noticed was that they weren’t exactly dressed how I remembered.
“Wait, what’s with the weird hats?” I asked.
Phil sighed. “It’s a fez. It’s hip. It’s happening. It’s today!”
“It hides my bald spot,” added Gumdrop.
I said, “And the skimpy bathing suits?”
“If you must know,” said Gumdrop, “we’ve been lifeguards in the Bermuda Triangle for the last fifty off-seasons.”
“Off-season?” I said.
“North Pole work is seasonal,” said Phil. “Once the holidays are over we gotta look for other work in the Trans-Dimensional World.”
“No way,” I said.
“Way,” said Phil. “Serious freaky way.”
Enough of this nonsense. “What are you doing in my locker?” I demanded.
“We need your help, Bobbie,” said Phil.
“Yes, we are in a most precarious situation,” Gumdrop added. “It would seem the Trans-Dimensional Barrier that separates our two worlds is experiencing a bit of a hiccup.”
“It’s crumbling faster than a decade-old donut,” added Phil.
“And that’s led to a rather large influx of creatures crossing the boundary,” said Gumdrop.
I’ve heard this story before.
“What does any of this have to do with me?” I asked.
“We need your cheer, Bobbie!” said Gumdrop.
“Big-time,” said Phil.
I’d had enough.
“Oh, so I assume you want me to just cross over into your Bizarro-Narnia again and almost die again and then I’ll just come back even weirder and crazier than I was before, AGAIN! Is that what you want?” I asked.
Phil and Gumdrop grinned. “Yes!”
The bell. Great. Now I was late to my next class.
I looked back at Phil and Gumdrop and shook my head.
Chapter 10
I made it to class.
After the bell.
“Ah, you must be Roberta Mendoza. So nice of you to join us,” said my science teacher, Mr. Lindenberger. “Are you going to make a habit of being late?”
As the students stared I contemplated telling him the truth.
Bad idea. Instead I just mumbled an apology into the floor and hoped for the best.
I’ve got to stop hoping.
“Sorry
, sir, she’s late because of me!” a familiar voice shouted from the front of the room.
It was Cole. Again. He was stalking me!
“She was giving me an exclusive interview for the paper and I guess we just lost track of time. Apologies, sir.”
“Very well, then, Roberta . . . since you’re already so chummy with Mr. Crusterman, you can join him as a lab partner for today’s lesson.”
Perfect. Just perfect, I thought. My day just kept getting better and better.
I sat next to Cole as Mr. Lindenberger began walking us through the boring safety regulations of the science lab. You know the usual science class rules . . .
“You’re welcome,” Cole whispered.
“Listen, Cole,” I said. “I don’t know who you think you are, but—”
I looked up. Mr. Lindenberger was glaring down at me. “Ms. Mendoza, are you trying to stand out as a chatterbox on your first day of school?”
“No, sir,” I mumbled.
As Mr. Lindenberger went back to explaining how not to blow ourselves up, I decided the best way to handle Cole was to IGNORE HIM.
There’s a word I learned at my old school that I really liked: “OBLIVIOUS.” It means not aware or not concerned by what’s going on around you.
That would be me. I would become CAPTAIN OBLIVIOUS!
Mr. Lindenberger said, “Reach into the cabinets at your stations and take out your Bunsen burners, please.”
Captain Oblivious versus Team Obnoxious.
Chapter 11
“Another problem, Roberta?” asked Mr. Lindenberger.
“No, sir! No problem. Just not sure which Bunsen burner to pick! They’re all so great!”
He rolled his eyes. “Cole, please fetch a Bunsen burner for your lab partner.”
They’re still here! I thought. How am I going to get out of this?
Mr. Lindenberger continued, “The Bunsen burner produces an open gas flame, which is used for heating, sterilization, and combustion.”
From above, Phil muttered, “I’ll show him a gas combustion!”
“Why are you two following me?” I whispered under my breath.
Cole whispered, “Who are you talking to?”
“No one! Don’t look up—” But Cole was already looking up.
Nothing. They’d disappeared again. Or maybe I was seeing things? Was I crazy? Is there a medical condition for seeing imaginary elves on your first day of school? Was I one step away from being locked in a special facility for troubled tweens?
“PSST! In here!” said Gumdrop’s voice from inside my backpack.
Nope. I wasn’t crazy.
As Cole followed our teacher’s instructions and lit the Bunsen burner, I quietly peered inside my backpack.
Mr. Lindenberger raised his voice. “Ms. Mendoza! No cell phones inside my class. Hand it over this instant!”
He was across the room, a lit Bunsen burner in one hand, and his other hand outstretched.
Everyone in our class oooohed like I was in serious trouble.
The problem was I didn’t have a cell phone in my backpack.
“Hand it over!”
I guess I waited too long because in the blink of an eye he’d put his Bunsen burner down and was at my side, dumping the contents of my backpack onto my desk.
I waited for Phil and Gumdrop to tumble out and for the local mental hospital to be called to take me away for good. But nothing happened.
Just my brand-new textbooks, a binder, and half a dozen pens and pencils tumbled out.
Mr. Lindenberger stared at me. “Hand over the cell phone now or it’s morning detention for you!”
There was literally no way this day could get any worse.
That’s when I saw Phil—back on the ceiling—he had a lit Bunsen burner and a mischievous look in his eye.
Nope. It can always get worse.
Chapter 12
Morning detention. That was my punishment.
Texting/tweeting in class was my crime. The fact that I had no phone didn’t seem to be important.
I confessed instantly because it’s a lot better than telling the truth: that I was fending off two fart-flaming elves from luring me on yet another Trans-Dimensional adventure.
That night I went home, and Mom and Dad were understandably concerned, but they knew to give me my space. Uncle Dale seemed unusually quiet too. Either way, I was glad because I wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone.
After dinner I lay on my bed feeling frustrated that no matter how hard I tried to fit in, I just seemed to stand out more.
Huh? Was Uncle Dale playing a prank on me?
“Is someone there?” I asked, but my voice just echoed like I was inside a racquetball court.
Suddenly I couldn’t move. And then it came for me again.
I jolted awake as sweat dripped down my forehead. It took me a while to catch my breath. I’d had bad dreams before, but never the same one twice in a row.
Was something wrong with me? Was I doomed to never fit in anywhere because of all that I’d seen? Would I ever be able to eat calamari again?
I didn’t have time to think about it because my first ever morning detention was right around the corner. Hopefully, the day wouldn’t be worse than yesterday, right?
Chapter 13
Morning detention wasn’t as bad as everyone made it out to be. It was quiet, no one in the hallways or classrooms. And the person watching me was the assistant gym coach, Mr. Rasmussen, who fell asleep five minutes into the session.
The only problem was I sensed Phil and Gumdrop were still stalking me (everything smelled vaguely of cinnamon). Also, Uncle Dale seemed to be texting a lot before he dropped me off at detention this morning. Something felt weird. . . .
But I was determined to make this day into a normal day. That is until . . .
Why on earth was this kid here this early dressed like a unicorn?!
“I get here early for mascot practice. Big pep rally this afternoon. The whole school’s going to be there!” said Cole, now the unicorn.
I said, “Don’t let me stop you.”
“I just wanted to see if you were okay. That was strange what happened yesterday in science class.”
“I’m fine.”
“Who were you talking to?” he asked.
“No one!”
“Was it Phil and Gumball?”
“Gumdrop . . . never mind! You’re kind of nosy, you know that?” I said.
“Well, you’re kind of weird, you know that?” he said.
“This from the kid who gets to school early wearing a unicorn costume?!”
“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with being weird. Weird is interesting. Weird is different. Weird is your story.”
“Well, I guess this is the end of my story, because other than a strange kid bothering me in a unicorn costume—nothing weird happens to me!”
That’s when a giant net suddenly wrapped him up and I heard a familiar voice nearly drowned out by two high-pitched squeals.
Chapter 14
Can’t a girl just get through one detention without a trigger-happy Trans-Dimensional bounty hunter busting in with two annoying elves already tied up in her net? I looked up at Loraine. She looked determined. Like a dog with a bone—a T-rex leg bone that was too big for her mouth. It fit, but only because she could unhinge her jaws like a python. A weird Viking she-python. Where was I?
“What are you doing here?!” I shouted.
“My job!” announced Loraine.
I must have missed that line at the job fair.
“Help, help, help!” shouted Cole.
“My goodness,” said Loraine. “This unicorn can talk!”
I said, “That’s because it’s not a real unicorn; it’s a kid in a unicorn costume!”
“That’s weird,” said Loraine.
Seriously? This was the weird part? Whatever.
This was not how I wanted my first detention to go. I needed to get Cole out of that net and get Loraine and P
hil and Gumdrop out of there before Mr. Rasmussen woke up.
Cole ripped his unicorn head off, saw Phil and Gumdrop tied up, and cried out, “It’s true! It’s all true!” he said.
Loraine cut him free from the net. “Now excuse me while I transport these two tiny TDBs back across the border for processing. Next time you see anything else weird or strange, stay outta my way.”
Cole’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped as he pointed just behind Loraine.
“. . . Like th . . . th . . . that?” he mumbled.
“Like what?” asked Loraine as she turned around.
Chapter 15
Here’s the thing they don’t tell you about real unicorns. They smell. And not like rainbows or lavender or sugarplum daffodils, but more like an actual horse that’s been bathing exclusively in some weird combination of maple syrup and gym socks.
I think I was in shock. Which is what happens when you’re trapped in the principal’s office on your second day of school with a Trans-Dimensional bounty hunter, two annoying elves, your bizarro uncle, and the never-ending question machine that is Cole Crusterman.
Oh, and the unicorn(s). Plural.
“Shhhh . . . No one move a muscle,” warned Loraine. “This is by far the largest unicorn infestation I’ve seen since . . .”
“The Boca Raton incident of ’03,” Uncle Dale said.
You could tell Dale hoped Loraine would be impressed with his knowledge, but she talked over him. “The only way this many could possibly cross onto the other side of the realm is if . . .”
