Lights, Music, Code!

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Lights, Music, Code! Page 2

by Jo Whittemore


  My friends and I grinned at one another.

  “Maybe we can improve our robot design in coding club today,” Leila said hopefully.

  Mrs. Clark put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m always for improvement, but I’ve already got something in mind for this afternoon. And it includes”—she lowered her voice and looked around conspiratorially—“a surprise.”

  Sophia and I oohed. Lucy gasped and clasped her hands together, and Leila and Erin ventured guesses.

  “Can we eat the surprise?”

  “Do we get to make a video game?”

  Mrs. Clark laughed. “No to both. You’ll have to wait and find out!”

  The first bell rang, and Mrs. Clark ushered us into the hall. “See you this afternoon!” she called.

  “What do you think the surprise is?” Lucy asked the rest of us as we gathered outside the computer lab.

  “Whatever it is, it’s big enough for everyone in the club. Otherwise, she would’ve said ‘a surprise for one of you,’” Leila pointed out.

  “That’s true. But what would we find surprising?” asked Erin.

  “If the cafeteria used real beef,” said Sophia.

  The rest of us giggled.

  “Well, Mrs. Clark’s a fun teacher, so whatever it is will be fun, too,” I said.

  Since we didn’t have long before the warning bell, Lucy, Sophia, and Leila hurried off to their homerooms. Mine was just across the hall, so I hung back with Erin, who was getting a drink of water.

  “I hope the surprise is money,” I said, leaning against the wall.

  “That’d be nice,” she said. “Then I could buy some clothes I chose, instead of wearing what my mom picks.” She gestured to my outfit. “You’re lucky your mom has good taste.”

  I laughed. “She didn’t pick these pieces. I did.”

  Erin’s jaw dropped. “Your mom buys whatever you want?”

  “No!” I laughed harder. “I got most of these myself.”

  “How can you afford them?” She narrowed her eyes. “Do you steal them? Maya Chung, are you a fashion thief?”

  I knew she was kidding, but I couldn’t help stiffening and scowling. “No. I’m not.”

  Erin’s eyes widened, and she reached for my shoulder. “That was totally a joke. I didn’t mean it.”

  I relaxed. “Good. Because everything I own is bought and paid for.”

  Erin nodded so hard her glasses slid down her nose. “Absolutely.”

  “Hey, Maya?” A student office aide approached us. “The principal wants to see you.”

  I stiffened again, this time in fear. “The principal? Are you sure she meant me?”

  He snorted. “Is there another Maya Chung?”

  I looked at Erin, who shrugged. “Maybe you’re getting some sort of Best Dressed award.”

  “Yeah, maybe,” I said doubtfully. “I’ll see you later,” I told her and followed the office aide, my heartbeat almost as fast and loud as the thrum of the tardy bell.

  Principal Stephens’s voice was light when I knocked on her door, which I took as a good sign.

  “Come in,” she said.

  I pushed it open just enough to poke my head through. “You wanted to see me?”

  “Yes!” Principal Stephens gestured for me to step forward. “We have a new student starting today, and I was hoping you could show her around campus. I hear you’re old friends.”

  I opened the door wider and saw who was sitting across from Principal Stephens.

  It was Nicole Davis—the shoplifter.

  Chapter Two

  I stared at Nicole, openmouthed and aware that so far my only greeting had been, “Uhhh.”

  “Maya, hi! It’s so great to see you!” Nicole stepped forward and flung her arms around me. She must have forgotten how she ran when I got caught in the Great Nail Polish Heist.

  “Uhhh,” I began again, but this time I followed it with a friendly greeting. “Why are you here?”

  (Hey, I didn’t say, “Why are you here, jerk?” See? Friendly.)

  Nicole pulled away, still smiling. “To go to school, silly! My parents just bought a house near my aunts.”

  “Oh.” I nodded. “Cool.”

  Nicole finally picked up on my lack of enthusiasm and furrowed her eyebrows. “I thought it was.”

  Principal Stephens handed Nicole’s schedule to me. “Could you walk Miss Davis to her locker and show her where her classes are?”

  “Of course,” I told Principal Stephens. Then I looked at Nicole. “Are you ready?”

  “Almost.” She picked up her bag and extended a hand to Principal Stephens. “Thank you for welcoming me to your school.”

  I raised an eyebrow. Who was this girl? The Nicole I knew had stuck her tongue out at a lifeguard who told her to stop running at the pool.

  The principal chuckled and shook Nicole’s hand. “My door is always open to you.”

  My former partner-in-crime turned to me, grinning once more. “Let’s do this!”

  Principal Stephens thanked me, and I held the door open for Nicole.

  “The seventh-grade lockers are near the cafeteria,” I said. “Let’s check them out first.”

  The door closed behind us, and Nicole grabbed my arm. “Maya, please don’t be mad. I’m sorry for getting you in trouble this summer. I shouldn’t have run away and left you alone.”

  I faced her. “No, you shouldn’t have talked me into it to begin with! Now, because of you, my mom barely trusts me.”

  “I’m sorry!” She held up her hands. “Look, I screwed up, but I’ve learned my lesson. I told my parents everything and even made them ground me and take my phone for the rest of the summer.”

  My eyebrows lifted. “Really?”

  “Yes! That’s why I never called to apologize.”

  “Huh.” That made me feel a little better.

  “And I can prove I’ve changed.” Nicole fumbled through her purse and pulled out a tiny slip of paper. “Here.”

  I smoothed it out. “A receipt for gum. Wow, it’s almost like having the real thing.”

  “No, the point is that I paid for the gum,” she said. “The old me would’ve just taken it!”

  That was true.

  “But I do have gum if you want.” She pawed through her purse again and took out a stick. When I reached for it, she held on, her eyes meeting mine. “This is a peace offering, Maya. I will be a better friend this time. I promise.”

  She looked sincere and really seemed like she’d changed. Plus the gum was my favorite flavor: strawberry. I couldn’t say no.

  “Okay,” I said, taking it. “But you do know the typical peace offering is an olive branch, right?”

  “I’m sorry,” she said with a solemn nod. “I couldn’t fit one in my purse.”

  I stared at her for a moment, and then we both burst out laughing.

  “I’m so glad we’re friends again!” Nicole linked her arm through mine.

  “I know, but we’d better find your classes and your locker,” I said, checking her schedule. “It looks like you’ll be by my friend Erin.”

  “Fun! I can’t wait to meet all your friends,” Nicole gushed. “Can I eat lunch with you guys?”

  “Sure, they don’t really . . .” I trailed off.

  I’d been about to say, “They don’t really know what I did over the summer,” but then I realized: What if Nicole blurted it before I had a chance to explain myself?

  “You know, I just remembered I have to meet with them about coding club at lunch today. But how about tomorrow?” I asked.

  “Great!” said Nicole. “And maybe you and I can catch up after school?”

  “Oh! Actually, I have a coding club . . . uh . . . meeting then,” I said, realizing how dumb it sounded.

  Nicole noticed, too. “So yo
u have to meet your coding-club friends at lunch before you meet them later in coding club?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Because we’re . . . we’re going to talk about what we’re doing in coding club.”

  “Or you’re going to tell them about me before you introduce me,” she said with a smirk.

  Busted.

  I put my hands to my quickly reddening cheeks. “Is it possible for someone’s face to catch fire?”

  Nicole laughed. “Maya, it’s fine. I get it. Just promise you’ll tell them as much good stuff about me as bad.”

  “I promise,” I said.

  * * *

  But later, when I met my friends for lunch, I didn’t find myself talking about Nicole at all. Mainly because Erin had splayed her upper body across the table and was lamenting about the dance.

  “I was going to wear my hula skirt, but now that he’s asked, what am I supposed to wear?” she groaned.

  “Why a hula skirt?” I asked. “And why can’t you still wear it?”

  “Who are you going with?” Leila asked.

  Erin looked from one of us to the other. I pointed to Leila.

  “Her question is better. Answer hers first.”

  “Jeremiah Whitley asked me,” Erin said, sitting up straight.

  “The cute guy with the mohawk?” asked Sophia.

  Erin nodded. “And after I said yes, he told me his costume. It clearly doesn’t go with my hula skirt.”

  “But why a hula skirt?” I asked again. “The theme is the future.”

  “That’s what I see myself wearing in the future,” said Erin. “When I’m a professional hula dancer.”

  “I thought you wanted to be an actress,” said Leila.

  “I can do both,” she said, nodding to me. “Maya gives fashion advice and writes code. Two completely different things.”

  “You can’t argue with logic like that,” I said.

  “Right! So what am I supposed to do?” asked Erin.

  “Be happy you’re going with someone.” Lucy stabbed her juice box with a straw.

  “But what am I supposed to wear?” She turned to Sophia. “You’re going with Sammy, right? What are you wearing?”

  “Does it really matter? It’s just a stupid dance,” she grumbled.

  The rest of us stared at her.

  Lucy cleared her throat. “So enough of that subject. Maya, who was that girl you were walking with between classes? I’ve never seen her before.”

  Erin shook herself out of her funk. “Yeah, is she why the principal wanted to see you?”

  They were, of course, talking about Nicole. It was time to come clean.

  “Nicole’s someone from my past,” I said.

  As soon as the words came out, I realized how ridiculous I sounded.

  “Ohh, your past. That clears it right up,” said Sophia. “You know, since we just met this year.”

  Leila elbowed her. “I like how Maya says so mysteriously: ‘Someone from my past.’ You know this is gonna be juicy.”

  All my friends leaned closer to me.

  I took a deep breath. “There was a time when I had a bit of a wild side.”

  Erin gasped. “Did you wear stripes with plaids?”

  The rest of us giggled.

  “No! I met Nicole this past summer, and, well, she was a bit of a troublemaker,” I told them. “She’s a better person now, but at the time she convinced me to do something I’m not very proud of.”

  My friends were hanging on my every word.

  “I . . .” Suddenly I couldn’t look any of them in the eye. So I stared at the napkin I was shredding. “I shoplifted.”

  Nobody spoke for a moment, and when I glanced up, they were all staring openmouthed.

  “You stole something?” asked Lucy.

  I cringed. Lucy once told me she admired me, and here I was, setting the worst example.

  “I tried to steal something—a stupid bottle of nail polish,” I said, “but the security guard caught me, and my parents know, and I totally learned my lesson.” I realized I was talking fast, but I couldn’t stop. “Trust me; I’m more ashamed of myself than you guys are of me.”

  Erin put a hand on top of mine. “Everybody makes mistakes.”

  I shook my head. “I’m not talking about something small, like forgetting your homework.”

  “Neither am I,” she said. “My mom absolutely forbids me from buying self-tanner, but one time I did it anyway.”

  Sophia snorted. “And you thought she wouldn’t notice once you showed up with an insta-tan?”

  “Oh, I didn’t get a tan,” Erin said with a smile. “I spilled half the bottle on the carpet, and my mom caught me trying to clean it up.”

  The rest of us made sounds of despair.

  “The worst part was that I’d already put some of it on my palms before I spilled, and I didn’t wash up in time.”

  I clapped a hand over my mouth.

  “Nooo!” said Leila.

  Erin held up her hands. “My palms were neon orange for two weeks, and my mom made me wear gloves around the house.”

  Everyone at the table cracked up.

  Erin bumped me. “So yeah, you’re not the only one who makes big mistakes. And we don’t think any less of you when you do.”

  Leila signaled us all to stop laughing and said, “My parents had this really expensive vase on a pedestal at our house. Nobody was allowed to touch it, so I thought it would be the perfect place to hide my Halloween candy from my sister and brother.”

  “Oh no!” squealed Lucy, covering her face.

  Leila grinned. “You can already guess that I broke the vase.” She held up a finger. “But then I put my sister’s goldfish bowl on the pedestal and blamed the fish!”

  We all started laughing again, and Erin had to take a drink when she started to cough.

  Lucy waved her hand. “I’ve got one! I’ve got one!”

  “Not sweet, innocent Lucy!” I exclaimed in mock surprise.

  She blushed but told her story. “You know how the tooth fairy leaves money when your teeth fall out?”

  “You’re still losing teeth?” Erin asked with a deadpan expression.

  Lucy pinched her. “You know what I mean! Anyway, I thought Forget waiting for all my teeth to fall out . . .”

  “Oh God, you pulled them out yourself,” said Sophia with a horrified gasp.

  The rest of us squealed and hid our faces.

  “No!” Lucy said with a laugh. “I took modeling clay and made a bunch of fake teeth and put one under my pillow each night.”

  “Oh, that’s clever!” said Leila.

  “Did your parents fall for it?” I asked.

  “At first,” said Lucy with a sheepish grin. “But then I got greedy and put five teeth under my pillow at once.”

  “Awww,” said Sophia, shaking her head.

  “Greed’ll get you every time,” said Erin.

  “What happened?” asked Leila.

  “When I woke up, the teeth were still there, along with a note that said, ‘You’re going to the dentist tomorrow.’”

  We all booed. Then Sophia started to share her story. Before she could get to the worst part, she stopped and smiled at someone behind me.

  “Hi! You must be Nicole.”

  I turned, and sure enough, Nicole was beaming at us all and carrying a lunch tray.

  “I know you guys are in the middle of coding stuff, but I just wanted to say hi. Hi!”

  My friends chorused their hellos, and Nicole looked at me.

  “Do you think you might be free tonight after coding club? I’d love to catch up.”

  Had she asked that morning, I would’ve said no, but after sharing my past with friends who made me feel better with their own stories, I realized Erin had been rig
ht. Everybody makes mistakes, and I shouldn’t think less of Nicole for it, especially since she’d admitted she was wrong.

  “Sure,” I said. “I’ll text you after school.”

  “Great—talk to you later! It was nice meeting all of you!” She waved, and my friends waved back.

  “She seems nice,” said Lucy.

  “Yeah,” said Leila, watching Nicole walk away. “Doesn’t really seem like a troublemaker.”

  “People can surprise you,” I said. Then I grinned at Sophia. “Speaking of which, what exactly did you do to that Christmas display you were telling us about?”

  And soon she had the rest of us roaring with laughter.

  Chapter Three

  There’s nothing quite as disappointing as being promised a surprise only to walk in and find a perfectly normal classroom waiting for you. After sharing our stories, my friends and I had spent the rest of lunch guessing what Mrs. Clark had planned. Finally the big moment arrived, and it was . . . desks arranged in groups, as usual.

  “Well, this is underwhelming,” said Sophia, looking around. “Where’s the confetti cannon?”

  “And the balloon drop?” added Erin.

  We all looked up at the ceiling.

  “Oh, there’s my pencil.” Sophia pointed to half a NO. 2 lodged in a ceiling tile.

  “Confetti and a balloon drop are messy. The mayor’s obviously bringing the keys to the city,” said Lucy.

  “Guys, I think this is it,” said Leila, gesturing around us with a frown. “So much for my chocolate fountain.”

  I didn’t respond. All their ideas were a little far-fetched. Clearly, Mrs. Clark was taking us on a shopping spree.

  My friends and I sat and watched other students file in. Each one glanced around, too, with disappointed expressions. When Mrs. Clark finally appeared, she turned off the lights and pressed a button to lower the projector screen at the front of the room.

  “Sweet! Movie time in coding club,” Bradley said.

  “Good afternoon, everyone!” said Mrs. Clark, walking to the front of the classroom. She switched on the projector and connected it to a tablet computer she’d been holding. “Today we’ll be watching a short video on creative coding.” At the confused looks we gave her, she added, “Using code to express our artistic sides.”

 

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