One Tough Chick

by Leslie Margolis

  “Yes. We’re going to select one student from each grade to participate in the judging process. We figure you’re responsible enough. Some of you, anyway. And who better to judge students than other students? Of course, this could turn out to be a disaster. We’ll see. We’re willing to take that risk. Or at least Ms. Benson and Ms. Lerner are willing, and I was overruled. So what do you think?”

  “I think it sounds great. Um, who’s responsible for selecting these student judges?”

  “Ms. Lerner, Ms. Benson, and myself. And we already have. Annabelle—it’s you. If you’re interested in the job.”

  “You’re asking me if I want to be a judge?” I needed to confirm before I got too excited.

  Mr. Beller nodded only once, as if he wasn’t quite committed to the idea. “If you want to. You don’t have to at all. Please don’t feel that just because I’ve asked you means I think you—”

  I jumped up and down. “Are you kidding? I’d love to judge the talent show! That sounds amazing, and I bet I’ll be good at it, too. I watched a ton of reality TV over winter break. Five episodes of The People’s Court alone.”

  “Let’s not get carried away. I said you’ll be one of the judges,” Mr. Beller told me. “The sixth-grade judge.”

  “Right,” I said, nodding with excitement. “I know how it works. We’ll all be a panel, like on American Idol …”

  “Yes, but with less commentary and hopefully no controversy,” Mr. Beller replied.

  “That is so unbelievably awesome!”

  “So shall I take that as a yes?” asked Mr. Beller.

  “Nope,” I replied. “Take it as a definite!”

  The students from Mr. Beller’s next class were filing into the room, and he told me I’d better head out myself because he wasn’t about to write me a tardy slip.

  “Okay, thanks, Mr. Beller.”

  “You’re welcome, Annabelle. I’m sure you’ll do an adequate job.”

  “Oh, I will,” I promised, hurrying out the door.

  I couldn’t wait to get to lunch so I could tell my friends the great news. Me, a judge. Judge Annabelle deciding who’s going to go home a winner and who’s going to just go home, to paraphrase that Project Runway lady.

  Oh, what power. Yippee!!!

  When I went to get my lunch, I found Oliver leaning against my locker. His arms were crossed over his chest and he was clearly waiting for me. Also? He looked cute, cute, cute, like always.

  “Hi,” I said.

  Oliver grinned. “You’re in a good mood,” he said.

  “I am,” I replied.

  “Does this mean you’re feeling better about the whole talent show thing?”

  “Yup. I’m fine. Pepper’s fine, too. Not that he ever cared. My point is, we’re all great. And it’s funny you should bring up the talent show, because guess what?” I told him all about my conversation with Mr. Beller.

  “Wait, you get to judge the show?” he asked.

  “I get to be one of the judges,” I said. “The only sixth-grade judge, but there’s a big panel. Six of us, I guess. So I’m only one-sixth of the deciding factor.”

  Even with downplaying the whole thing I knew it still sounded pretty cool.

  “That’s amazing!” Oliver held out his fist and we fist-bumped. “Way to go, Annabelle.”

  “I know, right?”

  “I’m so lucky,” Oliver said.

  “Right. Hold on. What do you mean you’re so lucky?” I asked.

  “Well, you know,” said Oliver. “If you’re judging, that means I have a great shot at winning.”

  I tilted my head to one side and studied his smiling face. “Why would it mean that?” I asked.

  “Because my girlfriend is one of the judges,” Oliver replied.

  “Wait, what?” I asked, confused and wondering if Oliver could possibly be talking about one of the seventh- or eighth-grade judges.

  Who were those girls, anyway?

  But—Oliver didn’t even know there were student judges. Unless he was only pretending to act surprised when I told him. But Oliver wouldn’t do that. He’s a very honest and genuine guy. There’s not a phony bone in his body … I don’t think.

  So that could mean … Or it could mean … Might he be talking about me? I was afraid to think it and afraid to hope it.

  I was so nervous and excited and freaked out I could barely look at Oliver, but once our eyes met he said, “You heard me.”

  “Did you just call me your girlfriend?” I asked.

  “Yeah, but I guess I’m getting ahead of myself. What I should’ve said, I mean what I should’ve asked you was, do you want to be?”

  “You mean, do I want to go out with you?” I asked.

  “Yup.” Oliver nodded. “So do you?”

  “Yes,” I practically shouted. “I mean yes. Sure. That sounds fine. Nice. Great.” I tried to reply in a slightly more subdued tone of voice, but my enthusiasm couldn’t be contained.

  Not when I felt like doing backflips.

  Metaphorically speaking, of course. I can’t do a real backflip. If I tried, I’d probably crack my head open, and how happy could I be with a broken head? Not very. It would totally ruin the moment.

  “Cool.” He smiled at me—dazzling white teeth, bright green eyes, beautiful brown skin.

  I realized something then, staring at Oliver with the crowd of kids rushing past us on their way to lunch. Now that we were going out we probably would kiss.

  This was good because Oliver’s lips were so, well, kissable. Full. A little moist and not at all chapped. Except I had to control myself. We only just officially started going out ten seconds ago. There wasn’t any need to rush things. Plus, we were in the middle of school. I didn’t even want him to know I was thinking about kissing.

  “Well, I’d better get to lunch now. My friends are waiting,” I said.

  Oliver offered me his fist and we fist-bumped again.

  Would it be crazy to say that when our knuckles touched I felt a magical, spine-tingling electric charge?

  One that promised kisses in the future?

  Maybe so, but it’s the total truth.

  Chapter Ten

  the Kissing Club

  I tried to be cool about this news, but as soon as I got to lunch I had to tell my friends. And luckily, everyone was already there by the time I made it to our table. I looked around to make sure no one was eavesdropping on us. No one seemed to be, but I lowered my voice anyway, just in case. “Guess what? I’m going out with Oliver.”

  “Yes!” Rachel cheered.

  Yumi gave me a high five.

  Emma flashed me the sweetest smile and said, “Awesome.”

  And Claire broke out into a huge grin. “That’s amazing!” she said.

  She seemed sincere, but I had to double-check. “Are you sure?” I asked.

  “Positive!” said Claire. “Why wouldn’t I be?” She looked me straight in the eye, which made me squirm in my seat.

  “Well, you used to like him and—”

  “And my crush on Oliver is old news. I’m happy for you. I mean, obviously I wish I could go out with Oliver myself. But if I can’t have him, you should.”

  Claire brushed her bright red hair off her shoulder and then leaned in to give me a quick hug. “Anyway, this is hardly shocking. You guys were already dating.”

  “We went on one date,” I said.

  “One for now,” said Claire, smiling wide. “But soon there’ll be more.”

  “So has he kissed you?” Rachel asked.

  I laughed. “No! We’ve only been together for ten minutes.”

  “Well, what are you waiting for?” asked Yumi.

  My friends all giggled.

  “Will you please keep your voices down? I don’t want to talk about kissing at school.”

  “Annabelle’s going to have her first kiss,” said Emma, ignoring my request. “That’s so fierce.”

  “Welcome to the club,” said Yumi.

  “The kissin
g club?” asked Rachel.

  Everyone giggled again.

  “We should print out T-shirts,” said Yumi.

  “That’s seriously so awesome,” said Claire.

  “The T-shirt idea or Annabelle’s boyfriend?” asked Yumi.

  “Both,” said Claire. “But mostly the Annabelle and Oliver news. Listen to how cute their names sound together: Annabelle and Oliver. Oliver and Annabelle. Adorable!”

  “I know,” I said.

  “I’ll bet it makes up for getting cut from the talent show,” said Rachel.

  Just then Claire elbowed her. “Don’t bring it up.”

  “Sorry!” said Rachel.

  “Don’t feel bad,” said Claire. “You’re not the only one. My sister’s friend Harrison made up a rap that had swear words in it, and Ms. Benson cut him off before he even finished his performance.”

  “I saw Mr. Beller do the same thing to the guy who burped the Pledge of Allegiance,” said Yumi. “Which isn’t fair because that takes talent.”

  “And now Taylor’s trying to get some seventh-grade dance troop disqualified,” Rachel told us.

  “How come?” asked Claire.

  “She claims they stole her choreography, but I think she’s really mad because they’re both dancing to Lady Gaga,” Rachel explained.

  “She did warn everyone against that,” I said.

  “Right—and everyone should listen to her because why?” asked Claire.

  “Because otherwise she’ll try and get them disqualified,” said Rachel. “She’s such a diva.”

  “Hey, what’s Oliver doing for the talent show?” asked Claire.

  “He’s drawing portraits of people,” I said. “Lightning-fast ones.”

  “Are you going to model for him?” asked Yumi.

  “No, he’s picking random people in the audience,” I said. “That’s part of his talent—being able to draw strangers from scratch.”

  “When are you seeing him next?” asked Rachel.

  I glanced at my watch. “Right after lunch. Ugh!”

  “Ugh?” asked Yumi.

  All my friends stared at me, totally confused.

  “Whoops, did I say that out loud?” I asked, feeling my face turn red.

  “Yeah, what’s up?” asked Rachel.

  “I’m not sure how I’m supposed to act around him now that he’s officially my boyfriend.”

  “Walk into class and give him a kiss on the lips,” said Claire.

  “I can’t!” I cried.

  “Relax,” said Rachel, holding up her hands. “She’s only kidding.”

  “Oh,” I said, feeling silly. “Right, I should’ve known that. But what am I supposed to do? What if everything’s different now? What if it’s awkward? What if he tries to hold my hand under the table? Or what if he tries to kiss me?”

  “He won’t,” said Rachel.

  “But don’t you want to kiss him?” asked Emma.

  “Of course, but not at school.”

  “If Nathan went to school here, I’d totally kiss him in front of everyone,” said Yumi.

  Yumi’s boyfriend, Nathan, lives in Michigan. They met each other in Hawaii over winter vacation and they haven’t seen each other since. They spend a lot of time texting and talking on the phone, and they miss each other terribly. I understood what she was saying but still …

  “If Nathan went to school here, you’d feel weird about holding hands,” I said. “I’m sure you would.”

  “It’s hard to imagine,” said Yumi. “But maybe …”

  “Definitely,” said Emma. “I get what you’re saying, Annabelle. When Phil and I were going out we hardly even talked at school. And sometimes we ignored each other completely, so don’t worry.”

  “But I don’t want to ignore Oliver. We always talked before we were going out. Are we supposed to talk less now that we’re actually a couple? Because that sounds like a bad deal.”

  “You’re the one who’s embarrassed to be seen with him,” said Rachel.

  “I’m not embarrassed of him, only the situation. And I’m not even really embarrassed. It’s more like I don’t know how to act.”

  “You’ll be fine,” said Claire. “I’m sure you’ll still get to hang out.”

  “But now there’s all this added pressure,” I said.

  “Only if you create it,” said Claire.

  Suddenly my stomach felt twitchy. I put down my tuna fish sandwich, unable to eat another bite.

  Ten minutes later I walked into science class. Oliver smiled at me and waved. I waved back, then walked over and sat next to him. Not because we were boyfriend and girlfriend. We always sat next to each other, even when we were just friends and even before that—when we were virtual strangers. And not only virtual—we were total strangers.

  To think that back in September I was disappointed about having to sit next to Oliver. If I could build a time machine and go back in time and tell myself that not only would I love Birchwood Middle School, but I’d also have a genuine real live boyfriend, well, there’d be no point in traveling back in time to tell myself that because I’d never believe myself.

  “You okay?” asked Oliver.

  “Yeah, why?” I asked quickly.

  “You seem nervous,” he said.

  “Nope. I’m good.”

  He leaned in close and whispered, “So you’re not going to break up with me?”

  “No,” I said quickly, and then laughed. “I still feel the same way about you now that lunch is over.”

  Oliver glanced at his watch. “That’s cool. So we’ve been together for over an hour.”

  “And they said it wouldn’t last.”

  Oliver’s eyebrows furrowed together and his smile disappeared as he asked, “Who said that?”

  “No one that I know of,” I said. “I was kidding.”

  “Oh—sorry,” said Oliver.

  “No need to be,” I replied. “I guess it was a bad joke.”

  “Hey, Spazabelle,” said Tobias, coming into class as soon as the bell rang. “What’s up?” He knocked my science book off the desk and it fell to the ground with a loud bang.

  “Have too much sugar at lunch?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.

  “Nope. Not enough,” Tobias replied.

  Meanwhile, Oliver bent down to pick up my book.

  The move was so sweet and chivalrous I couldn’t help but blush. “Thanks,” I whispered.

  “Anytime,” he replied softly.

  “So where’s Pepper?” asked Tobias. “Knocking someone over or stealing someone’s pie?”

  I crossed my arms over my chest and glared. “Leave my dog out of this.”

  Tobias smiled mischievously and turned to Oliver. “You should’ve seen Annabelle yesterday. She was freaking out. And her dog was out of control—destroying everything. Annabelle was chasing him and screaming and—”

  “I wasn’t screaming,” I said.

  “Were, too,” said Tobias.

  “I was not,” I said.

  “Were, too.”

  “Geez, Tobias. Are you in the third grade?” asked Oliver.

  “Takes one to know one,” said Tobias.

  I laughed. “One what? A third grader? That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Hey, can I borrow your pencil?” asked Tobias, grabbing it right out of my hand before I had agreed to anything.

  “No, it’s my only one,” I said.

  “Too bad,” said Tobias, keeping my pencil, clearly enjoying himself way too much.

  “Give it back,” said Oliver. “And leave her alone!”

  “Why? What do you care?” asked Tobias.

  “I just do,” said Oliver.

  “What, are you in love with her?” he asked. When neither of us answered, Tobias launched into song, as if we were all on the kindergarten playground. “Oliver and Annabelle, sitting in a tree. K-i-s-s-i-n-g. First comes love. Then comes marriage. Then comes—ow!”

  Suddenly Tobias slipped off his chair and landed on
the floor.

  Except he didn’t merely slip off the chair. Oliver knocked him off. Then he kicked his chair over.

  It clattered against the tile floor loudly. Suddenly the room went silent. Everyone stared at us, including our teacher, Ms. Roberts, who’d just walked into the room. “The late bell, in case you haven’t heard it, has rung. And I’d like to begin class, unless there’s a problem,” she said sternly.

  “Nope. Not at all,” said Tobias. “I, um, slipped.”

  He stood quickly and righted his chair.

  “Let’s not slip again,” Ms. Roberts said. “Deal?”

  “Deal,” said Tobias as he sat back down.

  As soon as she turned her back, he punched Oliver in the arm. “Dude, you don’t have to be so sensitive,” he whispered.

  “And you don’t have to be such a jerk.”

  “I’m not a jerk,” said Tobias. “Anyway, what’s the big deal?”

  “Just leave us alone.”

  “Us?” Tobias asked, looking back and forth between us with raised eyebrows.

  Oliver and I both looked away. Ms. Roberts talked about photosynthesis, and we all paid attention and took notes.

  Forty minutes later, when class was dismissed and we began packing up our things, Tobias asked, “So what’s the deal with you two?”

  Neither of us said anything for a moment. Other kids in class, I noticed, lingered near our table, taking their time filing out and clearly listening in on the conversation.

  Oliver took a deep breath and said, “The big deal is she’s my girlfriend.”

  “What?” asked Tobias. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “Nope,” said Oliver.

  Tobias looked at me for confirmation, and I nodded. “It’s true.”

  Tobias narrowed his eyes at us. “Well, why didn’t you say so?” he asked before hurrying out of the room.

  Oliver and I looked at each other and laughed.

  After we parted ways, something occurred to me. Oliver had declared us a couple, in public. He’d announced it to the entire class, practically. That was a big deal. Soon the whole school would know.

  I’ll be the object of gossip. And while that sounds like a bad thing, there is such a thing as the right kind of gossip. And Oliver and me, our coupledom (or is it couplehood?) is the perfect example.

  This was amazing.

  Stupendous.