by Dyan Sheldon
Waneeda kicks her under the table.
“Ow!” Joy Marie scowls. “What did you do that for?”
But Waneeda, of course, can’t answer. Cody Lightfoot is only thirty centimetres away. Twenty. Ten.
“Hi,” he says, those tropical-sea eyes aimed at Joy Marie. “You’re Mary Jo, right? Clem’s friend?”
She blinks. “I’m Joy Marie.”
“Right. And I’m Cody. Cody Lightfoot.” He holds out his hand, and Joy Marie, still looking as nervous as a cat on a raft, takes it. “I just wanted to introduce myself. You know, before the meeting.”
Joy Marie smiles uncertainly. “The meeting?”
“Yeah. The Environmental Club meeting? Clemens said you’re the vice-president and the secretary? He said you’re looking for new members.”
“Yeah.” Joy Marie nods. “Yeah, we are.”
“Right,” says Cody. “Well, I wanted you to know that you can count me in. I was totally committed to the movement in my old school – we did some real cool stuff – and I want to keep it up. You know, different space but same place, right?”
Joy Marie nods.
“So I’ll see you this afternoon,” says Cody. And suddenly his smile is on Waneeda. “See you later.”
Looking at Cody, it’s actually possible to believe that you’ve never seen anyone smile before. “Yeah,” says Waneeda. “See you later.”
Chapter Eleven
“Come on, gang! Let’s save the planet!”
“What do you mean, you’re not coming?” Kristin laughs, on the off-chance that Sicilee is making a joke. “It’s Monday.”
Every Monday after school, Sicilee, Kristin, Loretta and Ash go to the Nature’s Way Fitness Centre, where they alternate their time between aerobics, dance and hanging out at the juice bar, looking like an advertisement for low-fat cereal in their designer spandex and sports bras.
Though not this Monday, it would seem.
“I know what day it is, Kris.” Sicilee slams shut the door of her locker. “But I can’t make it. I have something else to do this afternoon.”
Loretta’s eyebrows go up. “Like what?”
“It’s no big deal.” Sicilee’s smile shrugs. “There’s just this meeting I want to check out.”
Ash tilts her head to one side. “What meeting? I didn’t hear about any meeting.”
“Sweet Mary… It’s for this club, that’s all.” Sicilee’s hair swings like golden blades. “I didn’t think I had to get your permission.”
Loretta points out that she’s already in a club – Diamonds, the club they all belong to.
“This is Mrs Skelly’s idea.” Sicilee makes a bored, put-upon face. “She says that if I belonged to something more, you know, serious than Diamonds it would look good on my record.”
“Nobody ever listens to anything Mrs Skelly says,” scoffs Kristin. “Why don’t you just—” She breaks off as her eyes fall on the flyer on the wall behind Sicilee’s head. Appearing to sprout out of Sicilee’s shining hair are the words: “Come on, gang! Let’s save the planet! Monday at 3.45 p.m.” Most clubs meet on Friday afternoon. “Oh, God! Sicilee! You’re not going to that Environmental Club meeting, are you?” Kristin is clearly a lot better at deductive reasoning than is generally supposed.
Sicilee ignores the shocked expression on Kristin’s face and focuses on the small gold hoop in Kristin’s right ear. “Why not?”
“Why not?” Ash’s shriek ends in laughter. “Because it’s, like, the most pathetic club in the whole universe, that’s why not! Everybody in it’s an industrial-strength freak.”
“They’re super freaks,” adds Kristin. “You know that munchkin Joy Marie whatshername is in it, right?”
“And that total dork Clem the Clunk,” adds Loretta. “I mean, like, really, Sicilee. He wears saddle shoes! Saddle shoes! Like some reject from Grease! For God’s sake. I mean where does he even buy them?”
“They probably still make them on his planet,” offers Ash.
“And the glasses!” Loretta rolls on. “I mean, like, why doesn’t he wear contacts like everybody else?”
“And what about all the dumb things they do?” Kristin wants to know. “Remember when they wanted us to drink water instead of Coke? Water! And it wasn’t even bottled!” Her smile becomes just a little serpentine. “And in case it’s slipped your mind,” she adds, “you did once threaten him.”
Bizarre though this may sound (rather like a lioness threatening a flea), this statement is true. Sicilee did, in fact, once threaten Clemens Reis. “You’d better hear what I’m saying, Geek Boy,” Sicilee warned him. “Because if you don’t stop this fascist campaign against my constitutional right to drink whatever I want, I’m going to put a curse on you. I’m going to make you wish that you’d never been born as much as the rest of us do.”
“And those disgusting pictures they put up in the hall of tortured animals?” Ash wrinkles her nose in disgust. “They were, like, so totally gross they made me want to barf. I mean, who wants to know about stuff like that?”
“You have got to be kidding, Sicilee,” cuts in Kristin. “You can’t possibly join anything they’re in. What’s everybody going to think?”
“I don’t care what everybody thinks,” lies Sicilee. She raises her chin just enough to show that she is above the petty, transient concerns of lesser mortals. “What I care about is the planet, you know? Because it’s, like, the only one we have?”
Ash, Loretta and Kristin all raise their eyes to the heavens (metaphorically, of course, since there is a ceiling above them) and groan. Sure you do…
It is one of Sicilee’s great talents to be able to flounce without actually moving. “Well, maybe you haven’t heard, but everybody says the planet’s going to totally die if we don’t do something.”
“That means turn off the lights when you leave a room, not become a social outcast,” says Loretta.
“Oh, please… I’m not joining. I’m just checking it out. There is no way I’m going to become a social outcast just because I go to one measly meeting.” It is Sicilee who decides what is in and what is cool at Clifton Springs, not other people. They wouldn’t dare. “And even if I did, Loretta, then maybe there are more important things in life than just being popular? Did you ever think of that?”
They all know, of course, that there is nothing more important than popularity (unless it’s money or fame). The other girls explode in shrill howls of laughter. They’ve never given even the most passing thought to the possibility that there might be something more important.
Only Kristin doesn’t laugh. Kristin has a serious, uncomfortable look on her face – as though her underwear is cutting into her. Kristin is thinking. What could possibly be more important to Sicilee than being popular? There’s only one thing. One thing that has dominated every late-night phone conversation with Sicilee for nearly a week. “Ohmigod…” wails Kristin, too surprised to remember she’s been sworn to secrecy. “It’s him, isn’t it? Cody Lightfoot! He’s going to be there!” Yet more proof, if proof were needed, of Kristin’s considerable deductive skills.
Sicilee wanted to keep her obsession with Cody Lightfoot a secret from Ash and Loretta for as long as possible because Ash and Loretta have bigger mouths than a humpback whale and she doesn’t want the whole world to know about it before Cody actually asks her out. But she sees now that there is no point in trying to pretend that she doesn’t know what Kristin’s talking about. Better her friends know the truth than that they think she’s lost her mind.
“Well.” She shrugs. “I did overhear him say something about it.”
Ash giggles with relief. “Well, why didn’t you say so? I mean, that I get. He is, like, totally awesome.”
“Now that makes sense,” agrees Loretta. “He’s the hottest thing in this school next to the boiler.”
“God, Sicilee…” Kristin laughs. “You really had me worried for a minute.”
Chapter Twelve
Desperate times call for d
esperate measures
“Come again?” Alice cups a hand to her ear and leans towards Maya. “I know it couldn’t possibly be true, but I thought that I heard you say you’re going to hang out with the Geek Squad this afternoon instead of coming home with me.”
“Hello? Hello?” Maya calls into the pretend horn. “Is anybody there?”
Alice jumps back, laughing. “You don’t have to shout, Maya. I’m not deaf.”
“Are you sure?” asks Maya. “I mean, I did tell you Cody’s going to the Environmental Club meeting.”
“Uh huh.” Alice nods. “But you didn’t say anything about you going.”
“Well… duh…” says Maya. “I didn’t think I had to.” It’s not as if Maya’s been keeping how she feels about Cody a secret from Alice. “I thought that it was kind of glaringly self‑evident, you know?”
“You did?” Alice looks puzzled for a second, then slaps her forehead as though several very large (and possibly environmentally unfriendly) lights have just switched on inside it. “Oh, I know what must’ve confused me. It must’ve been the part where you said that you’d rather be buried in eels than go to one of those meetings again.”
Maya gives her an uncertain smile. “What do you mean, again?”
“I mean, again – you know, like, after last time? When the dreaded Clemens talked for about ten hours and you said that you figured the only thing the planet needed to be saved from was him? Because of all the hot air?”
“Are you sure?” Maya squidges up her face and squints, trying to remember. “We went to a meeting?”
“Uh huh. You made me go with you.”
“I did?”
“Uh huh. You fell asleep.”
“Well, I’m not going to fall asleep this time,” says Maya. “You’ll see. It’ll be totally different.”
“I’ll see?” Alice automatically takes a step backwards. “You’re right – it will be totally different. Because I’m not going with you.”
“What do you mean, you’re not going with me?” Maya certainly wasn’t planning on going alone. Alone among the geeks. “Why not?”
“Why not?” Alice’s is an expressive face, and right now what it’s expressing is indignant disbelief. “I’ll tell you why not. You may not remember all the way back to last Thursday, Maya, but I was the one who nearly got pneumonia because you thought it was a great idea to play Follow That Boy in a monsoon.”
“I said that I was sorry. Gott im Himmel, how was I supposed to know he wasn’t going home?”
“I was almost bitten by an insane dog.”
“You weren’t almost bitten. He was just barking to protect his house.”
“He came after us.”
“Alice, it was a dachshund, not the Hound of the Baskervilles.”
“And my shoes were totalled by the time I got home.”
“But nothing like that’s going to happen today. I’ll call my mom. She’ll come and get us.”
“No. If you ask me, hugging trees is even more humiliating than climbing them.”
“Please, Alice? It’s just one meeting. And then me and Cody will be friends and I’ll never ask another favour from you as long as I live.”
“No. I’d rather go over Niagara Falls on a surfboard.”
“Pleasepleaseplease!” Maya clasps her hands in supplication. “I don’t want to be all by myself with Clemens and the geeks.”
“You don’t have to be.” Alice nods behind her. “I bet that’s where they’re going. You can sit with them.”
Maya follows Alice’s gaze. She sees Joy Marie and Waneeda all the time, but she hardly ever looks at them. They don’t seem real to Maya – Joy Marie with her intense expression and nervous movements and Waneeda, slow and ungainly, shuffling beside her. They look like cartoon characters. A mouse and a bear. Joy Marie and Waneeda come to a stop at the stairs. A mouse and a bear who are bickering. Maya has gone to school with Joy Marie Lutz and Waneeda Huddlesfield her whole life, and yet she has probably never said a word to either of them. She probably wouldn’t even recognize their voices in the dark. Maya sighs. “Oh, goody.”
Chapter Thirteen
Waneeda and Joy Marie discuss motivation
“I’m not saying that it’s not great you decided to come to the meeting, Waneeda,” Joy Marie is saying as they make their way to Room 111. “I just don’t understand why all of a sudden you changed your mind, that’s all. I’ve been trying to get you to join since we started the club and you’ve always been dead set against it.”
Waneeda sighs. As soon as Cody said he was joining the Environmental Club, Waneeda knew that she was going to join, too. How could she not? She may be lazy, but she’s not stupid. But, not wanting Joy Marie to jump to the obvious conclusion, she waited till five minutes ago to tell her. She should have known that Joy Marie would jump to the obvious conclusion anyway. As soon as Waneeda said that she thought she’d come along to the meeting after all, Joy Marie got that I-think-someone’s-been-smoking-in-the-toilet look on her face.
“I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal about it.” Waneeda slows her already slow pace, hoping that Joy Marie will keep steaming ahead and finish the argument without her. “A person is allowed to change her mind, you know, Joy Marie.”
Joy Marie, of course, stays in stride. “You said you’d rather be run over than join. You said your image was bad enough without being in the club. You said—”
Sometimes being friends with someone like Joy Marie is something of a trial for someone like Waneeda. “What’ve you got? A photographic memory?” Waneeda’s book bag bangs against her thigh. “I was just joking when I said that stuff. Can’t you tell when someone’s joking?”
“Yes, I can.” When irked, Joy Marie has a habit of sucking in her cheeks as if she wants to make them disappear. “That’s why I’m asking why? Did you have a vision? An epiphany? Did you suddenly realize how lonely it’s going to be when there aren’t any other species left on the planet?”
Waneeda’s whole body harrumphs. “Does it matter?”
It does to Joy Marie. “You know how I feel. The club and what it’s trying to do are really important.”
“I know they’re important.” Waneeda has a vague idea. “Obviously, I think so, too.” She couldn’t care less.
“I’d just hate to think that you aren’t taking it seriously.”
God help me, thinks Waneeda. She’s like a pit bull terrier. Once she gets her teeth into something, you have to call the fire department to get her off.
“Of course I’m taking it seriously. That’s why I’m coming with you!”
Joy Marie’s jaw sets in a way that means she knows she is about to say something Waneeda probably doesn’t want to hear. “I’d just like to know that you’re not just coming because of Cody Lightfoot, that’s all.” They cross the main hall to the west-wing staircase. “It’d be nice if you actually cared a little about the environment, too.”
All Waneeda cares about, of course, is being in the same room as Cody. Breathing the same air. Hearing him speak. Being close enough to touch him, should she ever dare. Seeing that smile again and again.
“I’m not saying that Cody didn’t influence me,” says Waneeda. After all, if someone like him wants to join, then the club must be better than Joy Marie has always made it sound. “But mainly I thought that I was doing you a favour.” Waneeda comes to a mulish stop at the bottom of the stairs. “You’re the one who needs new members, remember? You’re the one who was begging me to join.” She scrunches up her face and puts on a thin, baby voice. “Oh, Waneeda, it’s so important… Oh, Waneeda, it’ll be fun…”
“Well, yeah…”
“Because if you’ve changed your mind, just say so, Joy Marie,” snaps Waneeda. “Personally, I’d just as soon go home. I do have other things to do.”
Joy Marie, of course, is unaware that the membership of the Clifton Springs Environmental Club is about to rise, if not quite as sharply in the next twenty minutes as sea level
s are predicted to rise in the next ten years, then significantly nonetheless. As far as she knows, they can’t afford to lose a potential member – even if it is Waneeda and she’s joining for the wrong reason.
“Forget it,” says Joy Marie. “I’m sorry I said anything. I’m happy you’re coming.” And she charges up the stairs to stop any further argument.
Waneeda smiles to herself as she lumbers after her.
Chapter Fourteen
Ms Kimodo can be forgiven for thinking she’s gone to the wrong room
Ms Kimodo looks at her watch as she leaves the office and heads to Room III.
Ms Kimodo is running late.
Unlike being the faculty advisor for the school newspaper or the Drama Club (both of which have won state and national recognition and are enthusiastically supported by local businesses), being the faculty advisor for the Environmental Club has no kudos attached to it. The only time the club got any outside attention was last spring, when it tried to have the soft-drinks machine in the cafeteria replaced with a water fountain – and even then it was the mass protest by the student body, not Clemens Reis’s scrupulously well-reasoned arguments, that received the coverage. None of its small but significant successes – the school’s recycling programme (modest and largely ignored), the free showing of a landmark documentary on climate change (unfortunately scheduled for the same night as a basketball game – a detail Clemens could never be expected to know) and its campaign to persuade the administration to use energy-saving light bulbs wherever possible (victorious but largely unnoticed) – has done anything to improve the club’s image. Everyone, except the four or five stalwart members who actually show up for meetings, regards it as the club of either whining nerds or fanatical activists.
Clemens doesn’t help. Indeed, Clemens can probably be held responsible for this negative image. He is a very passionate and committed young man, with no interest in spin or in sparing people’s feelings. Last year’s major campaign to get people to eat less meat – You Are What You Eat – can be cited as an especially painful example. (Just the memory makes poor Ms Kimodo flinch.) Featuring photos of horribly distressed and mutilated animals plastered all over the school – even on the insides of the stalls in the toilets – as well as the screening of a documentary on industrialized farming that emptied the viewing room in a matter of minutes, the You Are What You Eat campaign alienated far more people than the one person it converted (Ms Kimodo wouldn’t eat meat now if she was starving). Ms Kimodo doesn’t allow herself to remember Clemens’ infamous Earth Day address.
