by Tina Wells
Zee took the card and looked at it. Seven classes! How did they squeeze seven classes into one measly day? Plus lunch! Plus time in between classes! And what if every teacher gave her homework every day?
Then Mrs. Sayles handed her the second card. “And here’s your locker assignment with your combination. Just follow the instructions at the top—turn to the right until you get to the first number, then turn to the left, passing the number one time and stopping on it the second time around, then turn to the right to the third number.”
Mrs. Sayles smiled, and Zee tried to reboot her brain. “Um…could you repeat that?” she asked.
“No need,” Jasper cut in. “I’ll show her.” He spun Zee around. “Look at the queue.” The line had grown behind them.
“Oops!”
Then Jasper reached out his right hand to shake Mrs. Sayles’s. “I’m Jasper Chapman.”
Zee couldn’t believe what she was hearing! Jasper wasn’t stammering or looking at the ground. He didn’t sound nervous at all. Instead of being worried about information overload, he confidently pushed his glasses higher on his nose.
Mrs. Sayles smiled and handed Jasper his cards. “Welcome to Brookdale Academy.” Zee relaxed, happy that Jasper was there for her.
Zee looked at her schedule. “Cool beans!” she shouted. “I have seventh-grade instrumental music first period.” She loved music more than just about anything else. Over the summer, she’d spent a huge amount of time writing her first real song. Her diary was full of cross-outs and scribbles and revisions, but Zee was finally close to finishing it. Then she’d cut a demo, sign a record deal, and become a pop phenomenon. (So maybe it wouldn’t be quite so easy, but Zee had no problem working hard for her dreams.)
“My schedule says I have music first period, too,” Jasper said, smiling.
“Excellent! Let’s go!” Zee started to walk faster.
“Hey!” Jasper called to her. “You’re going too fast.”
“I can’t help it. This class is going to be so cool!” she said. “Mrs. Bradley is an amazing teacher. Brookdale’s music program is practically famous. They win all kinds of awards—mostly because of her. The symphony orchestra goes everywhere. They’ve even performed in Europe.” Zee and Jasper arrived at the classroom door. “Room 124. This is it.” They stepped inside.
“No one’s here,” Jasper said, scanning the empty room.
“We can just hang out until Mrs. Bradley comes,” Zee said, looking around. A big wooden teacher’s desk sat directly in front of the middle of a whiteboard. Two rows of chairs, arranged in semicircles faced that, and a shiny black grand piano sat off to the side. Then Zee noticed a bright red flyer on the wall. “I don’t believe it!” she shouted as she read the sign. “Teen Sing is going to hold auditions at Brookdale Academy!”
“What’s Teen Sing?” Jasper asked.
“It’s this amazing singing contest for twelve-to sixteen-year-olds. They have a bunch of local competitions all over the country. If you win one of those, you get to go to the national competition. And if you win that, you get a recording contract!” Zee was talking so fast, even she was having trouble keeping up. “You didn’t have that in England?”
“Um…maybe,” Jasper said, biting his lip. Zee laughed. Teen Sing could have been the hottest British phenomenon since the Spice Girls, but since it had nothing to do with soccer, Jasper wouldn’t have noticed. He’d rather read a book than turn on the TV—unless a soccer game was on. But despite their differences, somehow Zee and Jasper clicked as friends. “Are you going to enter the Teen Sing-along?” Jasper wondered.
Zee pointed to the flyer. “Teen Sing,” she explained, wondering if it was actually too late to save Jasper. “There is no way I am not going to compete. It’s going to be so awesome. Brookdale’s auditorium is state of the art. It has the best equipment.”
Zee paused and looked at Jasper. “Am I talking too much?” But before he could answer, she said, “I’m just excited. I really, really want to win.”
“Win what?” a voice asked. Zee looked back and saw Kathi had entered the room with Jen.
“Nothing,” Zee answered quickly before Jasper could. She did not want to hear Kathi’s opinion on the topic.
Kathi looked around as if she were lost. “I must be in the wrong room,” she said. “I thought this was instrumental music.”
“It is,” Zee told her.
“Then what are you doing here?”
“I play guitar.”
“I know that,” Kathi said. “I thought you had to play a real instrument to be in here. Guitar doesn’t really count since you only have to learn, like, three chords.”
“I hope it counts,” a voice said from the hallway. A man wearing a white button-down shirt that was only partially tucked into his dark blue pants appeared in the doorway. In one hand, he carried a mug with coffee sloshing over the side. Little brown drops splashed on to the disorganized stack of papers he had braced against his chest with the other hand. “Guitar’s my instrument—well, one of them.”
“Are you a student?” Kathi asked. Zee thought he could be a student, too. He didn’t look much older than her brother, Adam.
The man placed his coffee cup on the teacher’s desk. “No, I’m Mr. Papademetriou.”
Kathi stared at him blankly. “Mr. P,” he continued. “The teacher.”
“The teacher?” Kathi asked. “No way!”
As Zee watched his papers slide down next to his coffee mug, she could see what looked like a jelly stain right in the middle of his tie. She also noticed that he was wearing a pair of Converse sneakers just like hers, only his were black.
“Actually I’m the substitute,” Mr. P continued. “Until they officially hire me.”
“Why would they do that?” Kathi asked.
Mr. P’s face fell, and Zee decided she had to rescue him from Kathi. “What happened to Mrs. Bradley?” she asked just as Landon and his best friend, Marcus Montgomery, entered the room. Even with their loose ties, untucked shirts, and baggy uniform pants, they looked more like teachers than the teacher.
Mr. P leaned away from the crowd of students standing in front of him. “Mrs. Bradley’s husband was transferred to the East Coast for work.”
“Forever?” Marcus asked. Zee was glad Marcus joined in. He was outgoing and friendly with everybody.
Mr. P nodded. “I’m the new music teacher.”
“The substitute,” Kathi quickly added.
“That’s cool,” Marcus said.
The first-period bell rang loudly overhead, startling the young teacher. Relief washed over his face, though, when he realized he could begin class. “Okay, everyone,” Mr. P said, with a loud clap. “Please find a seat.”
As the seventh graders scrambled for chairs, Zee smiled nervously at Jasper. This was not the teacher she had promised him and raved about—not even close. “Remain calm,” she tried to telegraph to him mentally—although based on the way she felt inside, she was pretty sure it looked more like, “EVACUATE THE PREMISES IMMEDIATELY! EMERGENCY!”
Mr. P took roll. As he announced names, students responded, “Here.” But when Mr. P called out, “Chloe Lawrence-Johnson,” no one answered. Zee figured it was a new girl since she didn’t recognize the name. Mr. P repeated the name as everyone looked around. No response.
How could anyone miss the first day of school? Zee wondered. That was like missing Christmas. There were no doovers for either one.
Zee and the others watched and waited to see what Mr. P would do after he finished reading off names. For a while he did nothing—unless strumming his fingers on the desk counted as something. Then he circled around to the front of the desk. Some teachers leaned against the front of theirs, but Mr. P sat on his.
“I guess I should tell you a little bit about myself,” he said, looking from one face to the next. “I just got back to the United States after living all over Europe for a few years.”
Cool beans! Zee was dying to go to Europe. Th
e new teacher might be interesting after all.
“This is my first year teaching, but I’ve been a musician since I was about your age,” he trailed off quietly. “Do you guys have any questions for me?” No one raised a hand. “Anyone?” he said, although Zee was sure he looked at Kathi in a way that said, Except you. I don’t want you to ask me a question.
Zee racked her brain, then stuck her arm in the air. Mr. P pointed in her direction. “Yes?”
“Who’s your favorite musician?” Zee asked.
“Bob Dylan,” Mr. P answered immediately.
Kathi groaned.
“You don’t like Dylan?” Mr. P asked her.
Before answering, Kathi rolled her eyes at Jen. But Zee could tell that Jen was only pretending to understand when Kathi heaved a dramatic sigh. “I just expected a more original answer from a music teacher,” she said.
“Who’s your favorite?” Mr. P asked.
“Anyone but Bob Dylan,” Kathi said. “He’s way over-rated.”
Mr. P was silent. Zee knew he was trying to figure out what to say next. Finally he spoke to the class. “I’d like everyone to write down a little bit about yourself—what instrument you play, how long you’ve played…” He paused to think some more. “Oh, and what you like best about music.”
Everyone took out a piece of paper and began writing—including Zee.
Name: Mackenzie Blue Carmichael
Instrument: Guitar
Number of years: 3
What I Like Best About Music
1. You can say what you’re feeling without using words.
2. You can sing while you’re doing just about everything else. Except sleeping. Unless you talk sing in your sleep.
3. It’s a great way to become famous if you don’t like sports.
4. It makes me happy.
5. It makes me Zee!
As Zee finished, Kathi walked to the front of the room and handed Mr. P her piece of paper. She had covered the entire sheet with information about herself.
“Thanks,” Mr. P said, taking the assignment.
“No prob,” Kathi told him, heading back to her seat. “I’m surprised you didn’t ask us to write about what we did over our summer vacation,” she mumbled to no one in particular.
One by one, the other students finished and gave Mr. P their papers. As Zee delivered hers, the bell rang overhead. The first period—or in Kathi’s case, the first round—was over.
3
The New Girl
Zee grabbed her book bag and turned to Jasper. “Let’s go!” she said as she hurried past the other students toward the door. As much as Zee liked music, she couldn’t wait to get out of the room. After only one class period with Kathi, she’d had enough of her to last a week. Mr. P seemed nice but nervous. She hoped he got over it fast.
Just as Zee took a step into the hall—CRASH!—she slammed into another body. The two of them bounced off each other in different directions, and the girl barely missed ricocheting off a senior boy who could have been a body double for a gorilla.
“Ohmylanta!” Zee declared. How could this be happening again?
The girl looked at Zee. “What did you say?” Her dark hair was pulled back in a long ponytail, which made her green eyes stand out.
Zee shrugged. “Oh, it’s nothing. It’s just something I say when I get nervous or surprised!”
The girl laughed. “That’s funny! I’m from Atlanta, Georgia. I thought maybe you knew that.” Zee had never seen the girl before, but her Southern accent definitely told Zee she was not from Brookdale. As if the girl could read Zee’s mind, she said, “But that would be totally weird since you don’t know me.” She paused. “I’m Chloe. I’m sorry I ran into you.”
“It was so not your fault,” Zee said. “I think aliens abducted me last night and turned me into a human-size piece of metal. It turns out the rest of the world are magnets.”
“Maybe you just have a magnetic personality!” Chloe suggested with a smile. “Did the aliens name you?”
Zee nodded. “Mackenzie. You can call me Zee. Everyone does—except teachers. And sometimes my parents. And their friends.”
“Wow! That’s a lot of information.”
“Too much?” Zee asked.
“A teeny bit.” Chloe laughed. “You’re not the only one having a bad day. It took me forever to get my schedule figured out, and then I went to the wrong classroom. I sat in photography for fifteen minutes before I figured out my mistake. Now I have to find another class.”
“What class did you miss?” asked Zee.
“Music,” Chloe replied.
“Oh, I was in that class! You’re Chloe Lawrence-Johnson! What do you have second period?” Zee asked.
Chloe looked at her schedule. “English.”
“Me, too. Let’s look for it together.”
“Maybe we’ll find it twice as fast,” Chloe said.
Zee rolled her eyes. “Or get twice as lost.” The girls started walking.
Behind her, Zee heard someone clear his throat. She looked up. Oops! Jasper. “Sorry,” Zee said. Sometimes he was soooo quiet—especially around girls—that it was easy to forget he was even there.
Zee introduced her two newest friends to each other. “Hi,” Jasper said quickly. “Maths class is in the other direction. I’ll meet up with you at lunch.” He started to walk away, then added, “Try not to forget about me—please.”
“I won’t!” Zee promised.
The girls began to search for their English room. “I like your bag,” Zee told Chloe as they wove in and out of the other students. The body was a diamond pattern with black, green, and red squares. “Where did you get it?”
“I made it.”
“You made it? Cool beans!”
“I couldn’t find anything I liked in the store. I wish I’d seen yours.”
Zee laughed. “I didn’t buy it like this,” she said. “It was plain, so I decorated it.”
“Oh, my gosh! It looks better than the ones in the boutiques in Los Angeles. Can I look at it?”
Zee slipped it off her shoulder. “If I can see yours?”
The girls swapped bags. Zee couldn’t believe how great Chloe’s looked. “This would cost over two hundred dollars in a store.”
Chloe looked down at herself. “Next I’m gonna try to do something about this uniform.” She tugged on her pants and stuck out her tongue. “Blech. I hope I can make it look as awesome as you did.”
“Really?” Zee could feel herself blushing from the compliment. She couldn’t believe that on the very first day of school she’d found another friend—one who liked to individualize her stuff as much as Zee did!
The rest of the morning went by in a flash. Every teacher explained the rules that must be followed, handed out forms that must come back the next day, and gave each student textbooks that must have weighed a ton. It helped that Chloe had been in all of Zee’s classes. But her new friend wasn’t taking her next class with her—French. Zee didn’t know any other seventh graders who were.
When Zee found out Ally was moving to France, she had signed up for French right away. She wanted to visit her friend, and when she did, she wanted to be able to read and speak well enough to avoid total embarrassment. Like accidentally ordering frog legs instead of ice cream. Or asking for the kitchen instead of the bathroom.
Thinking about it made Zee miss Ally more than ever. She pulled out her Sidekick and stared at it. Because it was too expensive, she wasn’t allowed to text or call her best friend without permission. But I need to talk to someone, Zee thought. Then she remembered someone who might be even lonelier than she was.
Zee tapped out a message to Jasper.
>K?
Jasper wrote back,
>Brilliant!
My maths teacher sez my accent is charming.
G2G.
Zee giggled as she turned the corner of the foreign language hall. Jasper may have been a brand-new student, but he was already fitting in.
<
br /> When Zee got to the French room, she discovered she wasn’t alone. Jen was already there. “Hey, Zee!” she shouted, motioning for Zee to sit next to her. Ugh! If Jen was there, it wouldn’t be long before Kathi was, too.
“Don’t you want Kathi to sit there?” Zee asked.
“She’s taking Spanish.”
“Then why aren’t you?”
“Mamá y Papá me están haciendo tomar francés,” Jen explained. Even though Zee didn’t grow up speaking Spanish like Jen, she had studied it since kindergarten, so she knew Jen’s parents were making her take French.
“I guess it’s adios, easy class, for you,” Zee said.
“Bonjour!” Marcus greeted the girls as he slid backward into the chair in front of Jen. “Just the people I want to see.”
“Why?” Jen asked, leaning forward.
“Look for a text message from me later today. I’m having a party.”
“A party? What’s the excuse this time?” Jen asked, grinning. Set against her dark hair, Jen’s smile was incredibly bright.
Marcus looked up at the ceiling as if he were deep in thought. “Beginning of the school year. End of summer. Finally making it to the upper school. First day of the rest of your life,” he rattled off. “Take your pick.” Marcus had so many parties, he never needed an excuse. They were always amazing. He usually had a DJ—sometimes even a live band.
“I’ll take first-day-of-the-rest-of-your-life party,” Jen said, giggling.
“I’m definitely going to the finally-making-it-to-the-upper-school party,” Zee said, laughing.
Who knew Jen could be so fun—and funny? It was just another bit of first-day-of-school weirdness. But this time it was a good thing.
4
(Not So) Hot Lunch
Zee zigzagged through the cafeteria crowd, clutching her lunch tray so hard her knuckles ached. The lentil loaf was so soggy it almost looked like stew. She figured she would just survive on the organic apple until she got home. Each time another student whizzed past, Zee’s plate slid close to the edge. Somehow her bottle of water slid the opposite direction. Just as she got everything in place, it happened again.
