by Meg Cabot
Except that, when we went to stand in our lines to go inside, I looked all up and down the line and I didn’t see any sign of the new girl.
Oh well, I thought to myself. Maybe she wasn’t starting today. Sometimes new people didn’t start on the exact day of the new semester. I had been new, and I hadn’t.
It took us a while to get up to Room 209, our classroom, because Caroline and Erica and I had to help Sophie up the stairs due to her broken toe (Mrs Hunter did notice. She said, ‘Sophie! What on earth happened?’ and Sophie said, ‘I broke my toe playing Olympic figure skater with Allie over Winter Break.’
‘Oh dear,’ Mrs Hunter cried. ‘I hope it feels better soon!’ This made Sophie beam with happiness. Although Mrs Hunter never did notice my new fringed suede tote).
After we finally reached the classroom (it seemed like it took forever) and I hung up my coat, I went up to Mrs Hunter’s desk, where she was sitting. It was funny, but I felt shy again. Mrs Hunter was going over her lesson plans for the day. When she saw me coming, she looked up with a smile. Mrs Hunter has the nicest smile of any teacher I’ve ever seen. That’s because she’s so pretty. Also because she always makes sure to reapply her lipgloss (Clinique Full Potential Lips Plump and Shine . . . she showed me one time when I saw her putting it on and asked her what it was) whenever it rubs off.
‘Oh, hello, Allie,’ she said.
‘Hi, Mrs Hunter,’ I replied. I felt so shy I couldn’t look Mrs Hunter in the eye. She has beautiful bright green eyes that could either twinkle with good humour or crackle with disapproval, depending on her mood. I had seen them crackling in disapproval at a couple of people who had misbehaved in class and, believe me, I did not want them ever crackling at me!
‘Allie, I have a favour to ask you,’ Mrs Hunter said, getting right down to business.
‘Sure,’ I said. So I hadn’t won a contest after all. But that was OK. I hadn’t expected that I had. At least if Mrs Hunter had a favour to ask, it didn’t mean I’d done anything wrong, and that she was mad at me!
‘We’re going to be getting a new student today,’ Mrs Hunter went on. ‘She’s a new girl, from Canada. Things are going to pretty strange for her here, and I know everyone is going to want to do everything they can to make her feel welcome. Don’t you agree?’
I nodded my head so hard that my hair almost slid out of the new clip Mark had given me. I definitely wanted to make the new girl from Canada feel welcome. I knew exactly what it felt like to be the new girl.
‘Good,’ Mrs Hunter said. ‘That’s why, when I was trying to figure out where we were going to have her sit, it occurred to me that you might not mind giving up your seat next to Erica, and moving to the back row with Rosemary and Stuart and Joey and Patrick. I know you and Rosemary are friends now, and I think you’d be a very positive influence on those boys.’
I know it sounds weird, but the minute I heard what Mrs Hunter wanted me to do to help the new girl – give up my nice desk next to Erica, and move to the back row to sit by those nasty boys – my eyes filled up with tears.
I didn’t want to sit next to Stuart Maxwell, who by the way likes to draw pictures of zombies eating other zombies’ brains. I didn’t want to go anywhere near Joey Fields, who never remembers to wash the sleep out of his eyes in the morning, and who likes to bark and growl like a dog instead of talking like a normal human person.
And Patrick Day likes to jump on top of his desk and pretend he is playing an air guitar every time Mrs Hunter leaves the room, screaming the words to whatever song is the number one country music hit that week. Rosemary has to pull him down and tell him he’s not actually all that at least once every single day.
I don’t want to sit by those boys! I don’t want to sit anywhere near them!
But now it looked like I was going to have to. Because Mrs Hunter asked me especially. And she smiled when she asked, and said she thought I’d be a positive influence.
Which basically meant she thought I’d be just as good as Rosemary at pulling Patrick down off his desk.
I didn’t want to say yes. But I didn’t really think Mrs Hunter had given me much of a choice. If I said, ‘No. No, actually, I don’t want to move to the back row with Rosemary and those crazy, bad boys,’ I would just look like a really selfish person, and that wouldn’t help the new girl at all.
And then Mrs Hunter wouldn’t think I was joy to have around the classroom any more.
And I knew how hard it was to be new. I knew better than anybody.
So I said, hoping my tears weren’t showing, ‘Sure, I don’t mind moving.’ Even though this was a complete and total lie.
It’s OK to lie if the lie makes someone else feel better. That’s a rule.
Mrs Hunter smiled at me really big when I said this and went, ‘Oh, thank you, Allie. I knew I could count on you. I’ve already had Mr Elkhart set up a desk for you between Stuart and Joey. Would you mind moving your things now? Because Cheyenne will be coming any minute.’
Cheyenne? Who was Cheyenne?
Then I realized Cheyenne must be the new girl. The new girl who was coming from Canada to take my perfectly nice old desk next to Erica, forcing me to sit between disgusting, zombie-drawing Stuart and sleep-encrusted-eyed, barking Joey.
I wanted to throw up. That’s how grossed out I felt by what was happening to me.
Actually, I didn’t even want to throw up. The truth was, I wanted to cry.
But I knew I couldn’t be a baby about it and cry in front of Mrs Hunter, who was so nice, and told my grandma I was a joy to have around the classroom. Joys don’t cry just because they have to move to sit between two boys. Even two disgusting, totally gross boys who don’t wash.
So I said, giving Mrs Hunter the bravest smile I could manage, ‘Sure, no problem.’
Rule #3
Wearing the Fact That You Are Talented on Your T-shirt Is Always a Smart Move
Saying, ‘Sure, no problem,’ to Mrs Hunter was basically the hardest thing I had ever had to do in my entire life.
I don’t even know how I made my way to my desk, there were so many tears in my eyes over the fact that I was going to have to move to the back of the room to sit by Stuart and Joey. But somehow I managed. As I opened the lid of my desk and started taking my stuff out, Erica asked, looking concerned, ‘Allie, what are you doing?’
‘I’m moving,’ I whispered. I had to whisper because I was afraid if I started talking in a normal voice I’d cry for real. ‘To the back of the room. To make way for the new girl. Her name is Cheyenne.’
‘What?’ Erica looked like she was about to cry when she heard that. ‘No. That’s what Mrs Hunter wanted to see you about?’
Caroline and Sophie, who sit in the row in front of us, overheard and came rushing right over. Well, Caroline did. Sophie had to hobble.
‘What? Oh my goodness, no!’ Sophie’s big brown eyes filled up with tears just like mine. Only, because it was Sophie, hers did it even more dramatically. ‘That’s not fair! You have to sit at the back? With Rosemary? And those boys?’
‘It won’t be so bad,’ I tried to assure her, even though of course I knew it would. I’m not positive, but I’m pretty sure Patrick Day picks his nose. I don’t think he eats it, but there’s always a chance. ‘I’ll still see you guys at recess. And lunch, of course.’
‘I think it’s nice of Allie to move,’ Caroline said after a moment of stunned silence. ‘To let the new girl have a chance to sit near the front.’
Though truthfully, judging by her expression, it didn’t seem as if she really believed what was happening was such a good thing. Probably she was thinking the same thing I was, about Patrick and his nostrils.
‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘I’m letting the new girl have a chance to sit near the front.’
Except of course I wasn’t really. I was just doing what Mrs Hunter had asked me to do. It wasn’t like I could have said no. Well, I could have, I guess. But then Mrs Hunter wouldn’t have considered me a joy any more.<
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Erica’s eyes were full of tears too, I noticed, as she and Caroline and Sophie helped me gather all my things out of my desk.
‘I don’t want to sit by some new girl,’ Erica whispered to me. ‘I mean, I’m sure she’s very nice.’ Erica hardly ever said mean things about other people, especially people she hadn’t even met yet. She tried to get along with everyone, and to make everyone else get along as well. ‘But I’m going to miss you so much!’
‘I know,’ I said, my chin starting to tremble. But I forced it to stop. ‘But I know you’ll like Cheyenne.’ Actually – and this was a little bit selfish of me – I really hoped she wouldn’t like Cheyenne. At least, not better than she liked me.
When Rosemary saw me coming towards the last row where she sat with the boys, her face brightened up like a Christmas tree that had just been plugged in.
‘Oh my gosh, Allie,’ she cried. ‘Are you moving back here?’
‘I sure am,’ I said, trying to give her a big smile while at the same glowering at the three boys, who groaned at the sight of me.
‘Oh no,’ Stuart cried. ‘Not her!’
‘Anyone but Finkle!’ Patrick yelled.
‘Boys,’ Mrs Hunter said in her most disapproving voice. She’d stood up behind her desk, which was at the back of the room close to the last row, where I’d now be sitting (she’d put Stuart, Patrick and Joey back there so she could keep an eye on them from her desk – further proof they were the worst boys in the whole class). ‘Allie is going to be sitting with you from now on, and I expect you to show her the same courtesy you show Rosemary.’
‘Yeah,’ I said, narrowing my eyes at them. ‘Because if you don’t, you’ll be sorry.’
I’m not scared of boys. That’s because I have little brothers, and I know that when it comes to a fight with boys, basically, they are just going to hit you, you’re going to hit them back, and then it will be over.
Girls, on the other hand, scare me sometimes. Not girls like Erica or Caroline or Sophie, but other girls. That’s because girls don’t fight like boys. Girls use what my Uncle Jay calls psychological warfare. This is when they TELL you they’re going to hit you but they don’t say WHEN, so you are living in constant fear of being hit.
Or they will just not speak to you at all, or instead talk about you behind your back or even call you mean names to your face, which in some ways is almost worse than being hit. At least when you get hit, you get it over with.
With girls, it can just go on and on and on and on and on . . .
‘Here you go, Allie,’ Joey Fields said, holding open the top of my new desk, which was right next to his. ‘Ruff, ruff, grrrrr!’
‘Oh my goodness,’ Sophie said faintly, staring at him. I had to take all my things out of her hands, because I was afraid she’d drop them in her alarm.
‘Joey,’ Rosemary yelled at him. ‘Cut it out with the dog stuff. Allie,’ she said to me. ‘Didja see what I got for Christmas?’ She showed me the brand-new cellphone she was holding, the buttons of which she was swiftly pressing. ‘Check it out. It’s got every game you can imagine. I can even make little movies. I want to make one of Mewsie. Can I go home with you for lunch today and make one? Please?’
I couldn’t believe Rosemary got a cellphone for Christmas. A cellphone that made movies. And all I got was a wrap-around ballet sweater. And some Boxcar Children books. And a hairclip and cherry ChapStick and a fringed suede tote. And OK, a PlayStation with Dance Party America. But I have to share that with my whole family.
‘You better not let Mrs Hunter see that,’ Erica warned Rosemary with a nervous look in Mrs Hunter’s direction. ‘It might end up in her drawer.’
Mrs Hunter has a special drawer in which she keeps an entire collection of confiscated electronic items, including Game Boys, cellphones, iPods, cameras, walkie-talkies and a vast assortment of radio-controlled vehicles, none of which she allows in her classroom. Once she confiscates them, she gives them back at the end of the week . . . if their owners behave.
‘Oh, right,’ Rosemary said, and hid her new phone in her pocket.
‘If you’re going to sit over here,’ Stuart Maxwell said to me, ‘you better be ready to face brain-eating zombies.’ He held up a particularly grotesque drawing of a pair of zombies that were doing just that. He apparently did this in an effort to make me go sit somewhere else. Like I had a choice.
‘Nice try,’ I said, dumping all my stuff into the empty desk next to his. I’d arrange it nicely later. ‘But I could draw better zombies than that in my sleep.’
‘Oh yeah?’ Stuart looked offended. ‘With maggots coming out of their eyes?’
‘Maggots,’ I said, shutting the top of my desk, ‘and slime.’
‘You’re disgusting,’ Stuart said to me. He looked over my shoulder at Joey Fields. ‘She’s disgusting.’
‘Ruff,’ Joey said, his eyes sparkling behind the sleep. ‘Arf!’
I turned my head to look at him. ‘Seriously,’ I said. ‘Shut up.’
‘Oh.’ Sophie looked like she was about to faint. Sophie, besides being the most beautiful girl in our class, is also just about the most girlie. ‘Allie. Are you sure you’re going to be all right back here?’
‘She’ll be fine,’ Caroline said, handing over my pencil box and some of my books. She sounded heartier than she looked though. ‘Won’t you, Allie?’
‘I’ll be fine,’ I assured them. I knew I would be. The boys didn’t scare me. Even though I could see that Patrick was edging closer and closer to the top of his desk, getting ready to make a leap to do some air guitar. He didn’t dare though, because Mrs Hunter was still in the room. She’d just gone to the front of the classroom in response to a knock on the door.
‘I’ll see you guys at recess,’ I said to Sophie, Caroline and Erica, closing my desktop. ‘It will be OK.’ It was a little bit weird that I was the one telling them it was going to be OK, when the truth was, I could have used some reassurance.
Then Mrs Hunter was saying, ‘Everyone to your seat, please!’ and Caroline, Erica and Sophie were scurrying away, and I sank down into my new chair, thinking how far away the chalkboard seemed from back here, and how weird it was to be looking at the back of Erica’s head instead of the side of her face, like usual.
As if that wasn’t enough to make it sink in how much things were changing all around me, Stuart Maxwell whispered, ‘Finkle. What about this one? This one scare you?’ while holding up a new zombie drawing under his desk, and Joey Fields kept going, ‘Grrrrr. Ruff. Arf,’ beneath his breath, just to annoy me. I had to mutter, ‘Quit it. Both of you,’ to them, while wondering how on earth Rosemary had ever stood it back here for so long by herself.
And then Mrs Hunter pulled someone into the room from the hallway and said, ‘Class, I’d like to introduce you to your new classmate, Cheyenne O’Malley. Cheyenne comes all the way from Ontario, Canada, so I’d like all of you to be extra nice to her, because this is her first time in our country.’
I sat up straighter in my seat so I could get a look at Cheyenne. I had never seen anyone from Canada before (that I knew of).
And I wasn’t disappointed either. Cheyenne was almost as beautiful as Sophie, and maybe even girlier, with her long curly dark hair held back in a single sparkly clip shaped like a flower, and a long-sleeved shirt that had the letters TNT on the front, with a picture of an explosion on it. Underneath the explosion, it said that TNT stood for Talent, Not Talk.
This was very clever, I realized, because by wearing that shirt Cheyenne was letting the whole class know right away that although she was very talented, she didn’t have to talk about it.
I wished I had been smart enough to wear a shirt like that on my first day at Pine Heights Elementary.
Besides the shirt, Cheyenne was also wearing a denim miniskirt with brown suede high-heeled zip-upboots, which were exactly like the kind I’d asked for for Christmas but hadn’t received, because my mom said I’m too young for high-heeled zip-up boots, and
that I’d turn my ankle in them anyway. Instead, I’d gotten the fringed suede tote bag.
Cheyenne’s mom obviously didn’t feel the same way about high-heeled zip-up boots as my mom did. Cheyenne clearly had the nicest mom in the whole world.
Or else she just had very strong ankles.
‘Cheyenne,’ Mrs Hunter said. ‘Would you like to tell the class a little bit about yourself?’
‘Certainly, Mrs Hunter,’ Cheyenne said, not looking at all nervous the way I had on my first day, when Mrs Hunter had asked me to tell the class a little bit about myself. She smiled at the class and said, ‘Well, like your teacher said, my name is Cheyenne and I come from Toronto, which is the capital of Ontario, which is a province of Canada that borders the American states of Michigan, Ohio, New York, Pennsylvania and Minnesota. So I actually know quite a lot about American culture, and I’ve even watched most of your TV shows and eaten in the majority of your fast food restaurants before. Toronto is the largest city in Canada – it’s way bigger than this town. In Toronto, my parents and I live in an apartment in a high-rise building, but here we’re renting a house while my father is on sabbatical working on his book. His book is about American politics. He’s considered an international expert on the subject.’
‘Well,’ Mrs Hunter said when Cheyenne stopped speaking and looked over at her expectantly, ‘that’s very interesting. We’ve learned a lot about Toronto and your father. But we haven’t learned very much about you, Cheyenne. Is there anything you’d like us to know about you?’
I remembered when Mrs Hunter had asked me this in front of the whole class on my first day and how nervous I’d gotten. My knees had started to shake and I’d wanted to die on the spot. I felt sorry for Cheyenne, wondering if she felt the same way. I hoped if her knees started shaking, her ankles wouldn’t turn in her high-heeled boots.
But if she felt nervous, you couldn’t tell at all.
