by Denise Vega
Ok, More Things That Kind of Make Me Feel Better…
• Chris is being pretty nice to me.
• Rosie is still my friend.
Again I ask: Why does it seem like the things that totally bum me out are so much bigger than the things that make me feel better?
chapter 27
ATTENTION!
On Saturday, the first day of our winter break, I borrowed the neighbor’s dog so I’d have an excuse to walk by Jilly’s house. She never came out. I shuffled around the block and when I passed her house again, I thought I saw the curtains move in the living room but I wasn’t sure.
On Sunday, I brought over some of the things she’d left at my house — two CDs, some fingernail polish, and some hair clips. I also brought a bottle of her favorite perfume, wrapped in a pretty box with a ribbon.
I was so nervous standing on her doorstep, I thought I’d either faint, puke, or both. My whole body shook. Would she see me? What would I say to her? I looked down at the cement, my eyes following the familiar crack that led from under the WELCOME mat all the way across to the other side of the porch. How many times had we traced it with chalk, or jumped over it so we wouldn’t break our mother’s back? Was it only four months ago that we were standing on this porch, holding those MBMS envelopes, wondering if we’d be together?
Mrs. Hennessey answered the door. “Jillian is upstairs,” she whispered, as if the house were full of sleeping children. “I don’t think she wants to be disturbed.”
I sighed, feeling sad and relieved. I had no idea what I would have said to her.
“I’m really, really sorry,” I said. I couldn’t even look at Jilly’s mom. But her fingers touched my chin gently, lifting my face.
“So am I, honey. So am I.” Her eyes were kind and my lip quivered with gratitude. At least Jilly’s mom didn’t hate me. I wanted to ask her if she thought Jilly would ever forgive me, but I was afraid to.
“Is there a message?” Mrs. Hennessey asked.
I thought for a minute. “Tell her I have no idea what to wear.”
Jilly and I had exchanged gifts on Christmas Eve every year since we were six or seven. It was hard to light the candles and sing songs with my family, watching the time click by, knowing there would be no guessing and giggling and ripping off ribbons and paper before opening what always seemed the perfect gift. I had bought her present months ago — a pair of faux pearl earrings that she’d admired — and it sat, looking small and sad in its bright foil wrapping, on my dresser.
The days over winter break seemed to drag on without end. It was December 26. Ten more days until school started up again. I wandered downstairs to Mom’s office. Her desk was clean except for a series of papers with diagrams and markings indicating the flow of the website she was working on. A dark green vine wound its way across the top of the bookcase, which was filled with computer books, novels, and instruction guides.
“That’s a cool intro,” I said, leaning over her shoulder. She was designing a website for a silk plant company and had this beautiful image appearing and reappearing on the screen.
“I’m having trouble deciding how the slogan should appear,” Mom said. “Should it slide in from one side or be a dissolve of some kind?”
With a few clicks she demonstrated the slide from the left.
“That’s nice,” I said, ignoring my twitching fingers, itching to grab the mouse. “What about a fade-in? I think that would look better since it’s just text.”
Mom made the selections and tested it. “Perfect,” she said. She smiled over her shoulder at me. “Thank you.”
I shrugged. It wasn’t much. I watched her for a few minutes longer, as if I might be able to find a clue in her design that would help me with my problem.
“I don’t know what to do,” I said softly.
“You can help me,” Mom said. When I didn’t move, she swiveled around in her chair and looked at me. “Oh,” she said when she saw my face. “Honey, what else can you do? You’ve called, you’ve written letters, you’ve apologized and asked for forgiveness over and over again. You’ve even sent gifts.” I’d sent a basketball T-shirt to Mark, a web design book to Tyler, a gift certificate to PacSun to Jilly, and one for the Gap to Serena. And I’d called most of them over and over again until their parents begged me to stop.
“You just have to let it take its course,” Mom said. “I know it’s hard, but that’s the way it has to be.”
I left her office and climbed the stairs to the main floor, sinking into the couch in the family room. TV. My new best friend. My arm itched beneath my cast so I reached for the knitting needle and poked. Sighing, I clicked the buttons on the TV remote.
Chris sat down in the chair next to the couch. I didn’t look at him. “I’m sorry you and Hennessey are still fighting. I kind of miss her bossing me around.”
I flicked my eyes to him, then back to the TV.
“You said some stuff about her, Erin. But she also walked out on your friendship. You can’t take the blame for the whole thing.”
“Did you see what I wrote about her?”
Chris nodded.
“The entire school saw that,” I said. “The entire school read that I think she’s a baby and I hate her.” I didn’t even get into the stuff about Mark. I was glad Chris hadn’t made fun of me. Sighing, I flicked the channel again. “I even told her monster secret. I promised I would never tell anyone. She’ll never forgive me.”
“You just need to approach the whole thing in the right way.”
“How? Mom says I need to let it run its course.”
Chris shrugged. “Maybe she’s right.”
“But what if she isn’t? What if there is something else I can do?” Chris smiled at me. “Just do it.”
I was about to reply when Chris leaned forward in his chair.
“Hey! Look at that guy!” He pointed to the TV, laughing. A man was wearing some kind of a sign that draped down his front and back. The front sign said, SAVE THE WHOOPING CRANE. The back sign said, GOING NUDE FOR NATURE.
“He’s naked,” Chris exclaimed. “Totally naked.”
“It would be more effective if he were in the Necedah National Wildlife Refuge in Wisconsin in the freezing cold rather than where they migrate to Florida.” My dad chuckled as he stepped into the room. “But that’s one way to call attention to your cause.”
I stared at my dad. Calling attention to my cause. I looked back at the TV. Maybe there was one last thing I could do about the whole BN.
chapter 28
Spam With a Purpose
Mom and Chris drove me to school on January 6 where I huddled in the back, clutching my sandwich board. My dad had told me what it was called when I showed my parents what I was doing. I planned to be what I termed “walking spam.” I didn’t plan to be naked, but I was wearing black stretch pants and a black turtleneck and had covered my cast in black tape. I wanted all the focus to be on my message.
I pushed the board away from me and read the front again:
To:
Jillian G. Hennessey,Mark Sacks,
Serena Worthington,
and
Tyler Galleon
I’m sorry!
I really blew itand I know it.
I hope someday you will forgive me.I’m going to wear this sign until you do.
On the back, the sign said:
Students of MBMS:
Please check out
the new and improved
school intranet!!!
commercial-free information
and entertainment.
Check the home page tomorrow
for an important message.
When we pulled up in front of MBMS, my heart did a triple back flip with a half twist. Maybe I should dive into the Forbidden Hedge and forget the whole thing. “I don’t know if I can get out of the car.”
“You don’t have to do this, Erin,” Mom said. “No one will know. You’ve said what you wanted to say on the home page.
There’s no need to wear the sandwich board.”
I knew she was right. But I also knew I needed to do something big and crazy that was my choice, not something someone else did to me or I did by accident.
“You’re either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid,” Chris said. But he was smiling. He had come along to give me support, and I appreciated it.
“We’ll see,” I said. Taking a deep breath, I got out. Chris handed me the sandwich board. “Thanks for driving me,” I said as I turned to face the building. “Here goes.” I slammed the door shut, then pulled the straps over my head and adjusted the boards, front and back.
I heard the window roll down and turned. “Good luck, honey,” Mom said. I could see concern in her eyes, but I just smiled and waved. After the PI and the BN, being a walking advertisement should be easy, right?
I thought I’d be used to the stares. After all, people had stared at me after the PI, and had stared some more when I came back after the BN. But it was still weird to have heads turn, eyes drop down to read the words. Some people smiled. Some rolled their eyes. I just walked on.
“You are something else,” Mr. Foslowski said when he saw me. “You still got those Tootsie Pops I gave you?”
I nodded.
“Good. You’ll need ’em.”
I shook my head and kept going.
When I stepped into homeroom, I stopped inside the door, making sure I was facing Serena. She glanced up, looked startled, then read the front. I turned around so she could read the back. Then I faced her again.
“I hope you can keep it looking that good for prom when you’re a senior in high school,” Serena said. “Because that’s how long you’ll be wearing it.”
My heart sank. I hadn’t expected everything to be great right away, but I guess I wasn’t ready for Serena. Mustering up my courage, I smiled at her.
“I guess I’d better keep it clean, then.”
She looked a little surprised, then quickly turned away.
I found out right away that I couldn’t sit down in the sandwich board.
“What should I do?” I asked Rosie. “I promised to wear it all the time.”
“I don’t think people expect you to wear it all the time. What if you have to go to the bathroom?”
“That’s true,” I said. I took it off and set it up near the front of the classroom with the backside turned out.
This continued for the rest of the morning. I wore the sandwich board everywhere I went, taking it off only to sit down or go to the bathroom. But it was always in sight. When Rosie and I got to the cafeteria for lunch, I scanned the room for Tyler. It took me awhile to spot him because his hair wasn’t spiky. Instead, it fell in soft brown waves around his face.
“He sure looks different,” I said, before walking over to him. His eyes got bigger and bigger as he read the sign.
“Hey, Tyler. Your name’s on that,” said one of his friends.
“Check out the MBMS Intranet tomorrow,” I said, turning to leave. “Wait.” Tyler’s voice stopped me. I bit my lip and turned around to face him.
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry about what I said the first day of I-Club. About learning from Big Foot.” He leaned forward and whispered in my ear. “And the mean poem on your voice mail.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “I’m sorry about calling you dorky. You’re really not. I would have changed my pages a long time ago if I thought anyone would see it.” I smiled. “Read my letter on the Intranet tomorrow. Okay?”
“Okay,” he said.
“What did you do to your hair?”
“It’s what he didn’t do,” said one of his friends, rubbing Tyler’s head and laughing. “For you.”
“Shut up,” Tyler said, slugging the boy in the shoulder.
“You should wear your hair the way you like it,” I said before turning away.
Jilly was alone at her locker, something that rarely happened when I used to meet her there. I put my hand over my beating heart, took a breath, and walked down the hallway, stopping about a foot from her.
“I wondered when I’d see you,” she said, not looking at me or the sign.
I didn’t say anything. I wanted her to react to the sign, to see how I was calling attention to my cause. To see me walking in it. For her.
Jilly rummaged in her locker for what seemed an eternity. The straps on my shoulders dug into my skin and I shifted my weight.
“I hope that’s comfortable,” she said, pulling out her books and closing the locker.
I swallowed. “It’d better be. Serena said I’ll be wearing it to my Senior Prom.”
Jilly laughed out loud. “And I thought making you wear it all week would be too much.”
I smiled. “Read my letter tomorrow, okay? Then, if you still can’t forgive me, I’ll stop trying. I’ll keep wearing the sign, but I’ll stop trying to be your friend anymore.”
“I’ll read it,” Jilly said. Then she stepped around me and waved at someone behind me. I looked over my shoulder and saw Bus Boy. I guessed they were an item now. It was strange to think that Jilly’s life was going on without me and I didn’t have a blow-by-blow account. It made me sad.
I stuck the sandwich board in Mr. Foslowski’s closet the way we’d arranged and headed for the bus. The only thing left was to see how everyone reacted to my letter.
Negative words had gotten me into this mess. I sure hoped positive ones could get me out.
Tuesday, January 7
Dear students of Molly Brown Middle School,
My name is Erin Swift. Those of you who have been here since the beginning may know me as Pinocchio or Puppet Girl. Or the girl who trips over her big feet.
But I guess that now, most of you know me as the person who wrote some very personal things about my life and some people at this school in my own private blog and web pages, which got out on the school Intranet by mistake.
I’m completely MORTIFIED about how much people know about my feelings. But worse than that is knowing that I’ve hurt some people and that some of you have hurt them, 2, because of things I wrote.
First of all, to Serena Worthington. I’ve known you since kindergarten and we’ve never really gotten along. You’ve picked on me, cut my hair, made fun of me, and have been pretty mean. But what I said on my web page about you was really bad. I was so mad at you for the stuff that happened that I just wasn’t thinking. The thing is, since working on the MBMS Intranet together, I don’t hate you anymore. You have some really good ideas and when you’re not being snotty, you’re actually sort of nice. I wish I had taken off that page about you because it isn’t true anymore. But I didn’t take it off and lots of people saw it and I’m really sorry. I hope 1 day you’ll forgive me instead of getting revenge like you have before. I’m not sure how much more humiliation I can take.
Second, to Mark Sacks, there isn’t a lot to say that a zillion kids didn’t read on my pages. I’m sorry I embarrassed you so much. This really smart guy said that good friends are like Tootsie Pops, they last a long time if you don’t bite them. I bit into this 1 and I’m sorry. I hope 1 day we can be friends again.
Search MBMS:
MBMS Home / School Life / Faculty & Staff / Happenings / FAQ / Contact Us
Third, to Tyler Galleon, the most non-dorky boy in the entire school. You really worked hard on the Intranet and were always doing things to help out. You’ve been my friend this whole time and I didn’t even know it. I really blew it with you and I’m sorry.
Finally, to Jillian Gail Hennessey, who has been my best friend since kindergarten. I’m jealous of you. There, I said it. People always love you, even though you can be a little bossy. You always seem to get what you want and sometimes I feel like nobody next to you. But that’s my problem, not yours. We definitely have a lot to talk about and I hope we get a chance to do it. I’m really, REALLY, REALLY sorry, Jilly. I know I took a pretty big bite out of the Tootsie Pop, but I think there might be something left inside. I hope you
do, 2.
I also want to thank Rosie Velarde, who has stood beside me when nobody else did. She really knows what it means to be a friend. That’s one special Tootsie Pop.
If I had a do over and could change things…honestly, I’m not sure I would. I know that sounds crazy but it’s true. I learned a lot about myself, a lot about friendship, and a lot about going to the bathroom wearing a sandwich board. :-)
I hope some of you will stop me in the hall and say hi. I’ll be the 1 wearing the sandwich board until the Senior Prom and beyond.
Thanks for listening.
Sincerely,
Erin Penelope Swift
P.S. Cherry Tootsies are my favorite.
chapter 29
TSR (Terminate and Stay Resident)
There were exactly ten cherry Tootsie Pops stuck in my locker when I came to it at the end of the day. Well, it wasn’t a zillion like Jilly would have gotten, but it was a start. Lots of people stopped me to say hi, most of them asking if any of the four had forgiven me yet.
“Two so far,” I told the last person who had asked. One of the Tootsie Pops was from Mark, who had attached a note saying, “Cherry’s my favorite, too.” Tyler had come up to me after class, blushed, and thanked me for what I said in the online letter. His hair was spiky again.
“I like it,” I had said, pointing to his head. “It’s you.”
“Yeah,” he said, grinning. “It is.”
I pulled the sandwich board over my head and walked down the hall. “Well, well, well,” Mr. Foslowski said. “Things are going to seem mighty quiet around here if you stop making so many mistakes.”
“Quiet is good,” I said. “Really good.” I held out the boards. “Can you take these?”
“Sure. But I don’t think you’ll have to wear them much longer.” “Only two down,” I said. “The boys. Two to go.” And they won’t be easy, I thought.
“Oh, I have a feeling they’ll come around. Especially Jilly.” “That still leaves Serena.”
