by Rachel Wise
Journalist to Jock, in Just One Week!
Nah. Not yet, I decided.
Chapter 5
ADVICE COLUMNIST IN OVER HER HEAD
At dinner that night, Allie was full of questions about the gymnastics team. But as it turned out, they were more about her than me.
“So has Coach Adams talked about me a lot?” she asked knowingly.
“Actually . . . ,” I said, taking a bite of my broccoli to stretch out the wait. I chewed and swallowed. “I haven’t really seen Coach Adams yet, mostly Coach Lunetta. I’ve just been practicing after school with Hailey.”
“Hailey?! What does she know about gymnastics?”
“Nothing, really. She’s my trainer, but it’s more of an all-around fitness thing. She got a book out of the library for the gymnastics part.”
Allie tossed her hair indignantly. “A book?! You can’t learn gymnastics from a book!”
“Well . . . I already know a lot of stuff. We’re just trying to get ideas for my routines for the tryouts.”
“What level are you going for?” asked Allie. “Four?”
I nearly choked on my milk. As I’d already told Hailey, Level Four was more than halfway to the Junior Olympic trials. “No. Um, two. We were thinking Level Two.”
“Level Two?” Allie wrinkled her nose in distaste. “I was on Level Two in kindergarten.”
I rolled my eyes at my mom. “I know.”
“Are you two having fun together, you and Hailey?” my mom asked.
I nodded. “It’s okay. Hailey’s being a little bossy and kind of a know-it-all.”
My mom thought for a second. “You know, it’s probably nice for Hailey to have a turn at being the teacher with you as the student for a change, right?” she said.
Hailey always gets extra help from me on her homework. She also has a tutor. Because of her dyslexia, some subjects are really hard for her, and it takes longer for her to do her schoolwork. I think she feels pretty bad about it. What my mom said actually made a lot of sense.
“You’re right,” I agreed.
My mom smiled. “So maybe take her being bossy with a grain of salt, if you think she’s being a know-it-all.” My mom winked at me. Besides Mr. Trigg, she’s the only one who knows that I’m Dear Know-It-All this year. I smiled back.
“Are my trophies still there, in the case? The big one from State and the other ones from Regional?” Allie couldn’t stop focusing on herself!
“I don’t know. I haven’t been able to read them because the janitorial staff is obsessed with polishing them,” I replied.
Allie looked up quickly, but then realized I was joking. “Whatever. You’re just jealous that I had so much success at such a young age.”
“Girls,” warned my mom. We stopped bickering, but Allie continued to stare menacingly at me. “Allie, it might be nice if you could spend some time with Sam to help her get ready for the tryouts. Maybe meet her at the gymnasium one day and see if you can give her some pointers?”
Allie looked at me. I waited. That could either be very good or very bad. I wasn’t sure. “Maybe,” she said reluctantly.
I shrugged. Bad, I thought. It would be bad. Allie and her entourage at the gym, buttering up the coaches in their office, showing off all her old tricks. Yuck.
“Well, good luck, sweetheart. I know you can do it!” my mom said to me.
“Thanks,” I said, staring meaningfully at Allie.
“Whatever,” said Allie.
While typing up my notes from my interview with Cintra that night, Hailey IM’d me:
Guess what—danny burke told me I was cute!!!
Wow. Things were really moving along between those two. I wanted to be happy for Hailey, but I really didn’t like or trust that guy. I wasn’t sure what to say.
Great! When? I typed. Then I chewed my nail while I waited for her reply.
He IM’d me + said what’s up 4 the wknd + I said nothing + he said what’s a cute girl like u doing w no planz?
I didn’t want to encourage her, but she was always so nice about listening to my Michael Lawrence craziness that I knew I had to act kind of excited.
So r u doing something w him?
I tapped my desk, waiting.
I think so.
I had to lie: Cool!
And good luck, I added silently.
I sat there thinking afterward. Was I jealous, or did I really not like Danny? Maybe a little of both. Did I think he was a bad guy or just wrong for my friend? Both. But did I wish Michael would IM me and tell me I was cute? Yes, definitely! But it was different with Michael. We had a lot in common. We had a shared history. This Danny Burke was kind of sketchy. I needed to do some research. And as much as I hated to admit it, I needed to do it on Buddybook.
A little while back, I’d gotten in trouble with my mom because I opened a Buddybook account without asking. So I closed it, and then we spent a lot of time talking about Buddybook and online stuff in general. My mom and I made a list of rules that hangs next to my desk, like Do not post personal information about me or my friends, and Do not put up photos without the subjects’ permission. Only when she felt that I really got it all did she let me have a Buddybook account. But the truth is, I really hate Buddybook. I think it’s kind of deranged and a time suck, but sometimes . . . well, sometimes it’s the only way to find something out. Especially if you’re good at snooping.
I logged on and began looking for Danny Burke from Cherry Valley. It didn’t take long. His page was public and he had tons of friends. And unsurprisingly, most of them were girls. I scrolled down his wall.
HEY DANNY THANKS 4 THE NOTE! XO LECIA
BIG D! SAVE ME A SEAT ON SATURDAY! KIMM
PENNY WANTS TO KNOW: WHAT ARE WE DOING FOR YOUR BDAY?!!!
And so on. Oh, Hailey. I sighed. She had to have seen this. What was she thinking?
I logged off and shut down my computer, then I spun around in my desk chair and thought and thought. Advice Columnist in Over Her Head. Then I spun a little too hard and almost fell over. I was steadying myself on the desk when there was a light tap on the door and my mom came in.
“Hellooo!” she said, smiling.
“Hi,” I said.
She sat on the edge of my bed. “Sweetheart, I think Allie is a little hurt that you’re taking on this gymnastics tryout without consulting her.” She kind of winced as she said it. I guess Allie had given her an earful.
I was annoyed. “It’s not like she owns the team,” I said.
“No, but come on. That was her whole world for years. She’s not being bratty. Honestly, I think she’s really hurt. She can’t understand why you wouldn’t come to her. She wants to be so excited for you, but now she’s upset and it’s getting in the way.”
I was having a hard time picturing Allie wanting to be excited for me, but whatever. I guess I could understand what my mom was saying.
“So what am I supposed to do?” I asked.
My mom tipped her head to the side. “Don’t do it tonight, because then it would be too obvious that we’ve talked. But in the next day or so, see if you can soften her up by asking a lot of questions. Then wait a little while and invite her to come train you one day next week. I’m sure Hailey would be okay with it. She doesn’t mind having Allie around!”
We both laughed at the understatement. Hailey worships the ground Allie walks on.
“Okay,” I said. “I just thought she’d make fun of me or something. And I wanted it to be my own thing.”
“Sam, honey,” my mom said, holding my gaze, “when you made the decision to try out for the team, you have to admit you knew gymnastics was always Allie’s own thing, right?”
Busted. “Yeah, I guess.”
“I’m not saying it’s only Allie’s thing, but she has certainly established herself in that area. Right?”
I nodded, feeling bad. My mom had a point.
“So maybe she feels a little threatened by you too.”
That was hard to be
lieve, but I suppose I owed Allie the benefit of the doubt. “Okay. I get it.”
She stood up and planted a kiss on the top of my head. “Thanks.” She looked at her watch. “Bedtime?”
“Right after I do my squats,” I said, hauling myself out of my chair.
The nice part about repetitive exercising—mainly the kind that requires you to count, like squats and sit-ups—is that it makes it hard to think. Or to worry. It definitely had its appeal. The only problem is, it’s boring.
Journalist’s Brain Turns to Brawn in Quest for Gold.
Oh well, if nothing else, I’d be in pretty good shape by the time these tryouts were over. That is, if I even ended up trying out.
Chapter 6
JOURNALIST WITHHOLDS OPINION: RISKING FRIEND TO SAVE FRIENDSHIP
“Hey, Jenna!” I called, spotting Jenna Palmer walking toward me and Hailey in the third-floor hall at school.
She looked up, surprised. “Oh, hey,” she said with a shy smile.
We passed and Hailey whispered loudly, “Who was that?”
“Hailey!” I turned around to see if Jenna had heard, but I couldn’t tell. “You are the worst whisperer,” I said.
Hailey shrugged. “That is not something that will keep me up at night. Who is she?”
“Hello?! She’s new this year in our grade. Jenna Palmer? Don’t you have any classes with her?”
“Nope. She must be smart,” Hailey said.
I whacked her arm. “Stop. You’re smart. Being dyslexic is just a mechanical problem. Come on.”
“Hey, gymnasts,” said someone right behind us.
Michael!
I spun around, so happy to see him that I had a huge grin plastered on my face.
“Mikey!” I cried, my right sneaker tripping slightly over the back of my left sneaker. I did a little hop to keep my balance.
He looked pleasantly surprised that I was so happy to see him. I had gotten over my anger at not being his writing partner, even though it still smarted a little that he hadn’t insisted on it.
“Trippy!” he said, using the nickname he saved for me when I did something klutzy.
“What’s up, Lawrence?” asked Hailey.
“Not much. Just basketball and working on the article. It’s pretty interesting stuff, actually, Pasty. I wish that—”
“Hey, girl!” interrupted Danny Burke.
Hailey’s face turned instantly pink. “Hi!” she said, grinning from ear to ear.
Michael looked perplexed as he watched this exchange.
I wanted the floor to open up and swallow Danny Burke. I was sure Michael had just been about to say he wished I was working on the article with him, and then Danny interrupted. The nerve of this guy!
Danny acknowledged Michael with a nod and me with a wink. Gross. I still hadn’t reached out to him about the interview for the article, though all the others were set up. In fact, I had one at lunch today.
“You look slammin’ today,” said Danny approvingly as he surveyed Hailey from head to toe.
Hailey giggled, speechless.
Now I knew this guy was just feeding her lines. Hailey was wearing her usual uniform of sweats (the athletic, useful kind, not the girly, fluffy kind), two T-shirts, a hoodie, and sneakers. She looked cute (Hailey always looks cute!), but “slammin’ ” seemed a bit over the top.
Michael and I exchanged a look. Then he shrugged and said, “So how’s your article coming along?”
Hailey and Danny began to chat, and I had to stop listening or I would puke.
“Oh, it should be pretty good. I’ve got an interview today at lunch and a couple of others lined up. And one more I need to book.” I rolled my eyes toward Danny to indicate that it was him.
“Seriously?” said Michael. The look of shock on his face was very satisfying.
I nodded.
“Why?” said Michael incredulously.
“Susannah’s pick,” I said. Then I leaned closer and whispered, “Wants a new kid.” Mmm. Michael smelled so good up close, like soap and maybe a little bit of Tide detergent. I stepped away, wishing I could go back in for another whiff.
“Wow,” said Michael quietly. “Good luck with that.”
“Right?” I agreed.
The bell rang and everyone began to move quickly.
“Sorry you can’t join me for lunch today,” said Michael. “I’m actually free for once! Bye!” and he dashed off.
Wait! I wanted to yell. I’ll cancel my interview! I’ll do whatever it takes! Why didn’t you just ask?
I looked at Hailey and Danny. He touched her arm and said, “I’ll catch you later!” then he headed to class. As slimy as Danny was, I wished Michael would act that interested in me.
Hailey was in a love fog.
“Earth to Hailey,” I said. “We’ve gotta go. Come home from planet Danny! Hello!”
She snapped out of it enough to trot alongside me to the math department, where our next classes were side by side.
After a few paces, she said, “I can’t believe it. Finally! I like a guy and he likes me back! And he’s not taken or stalked or weird or anything!” She turned to me with a look of such pure happiness on her face that I knew I could never say anything bad about Danny Burke to her.
Journalist Withholds Opinion: Risking Friend to Save Friendship.
At lunch I spotted Michael sitting with some friends from the basketball team. I wished I could join him and joke around and just be near him. But instead, I had to work.
I scanned the tables for Jimmy Becker, today’s interview subject. He was a nice guy, an actor, and I knew him from a couple of school plays I’d seen him in over the past few years. He wasn’t “cool” and he wasn’t a nerd but right in between. Kind of like me.
I spotted him at a table in the back right corner of the cafeteria and made my way over.
“Hey, Sam!” he said as I arrived.
“Hi, Jimmy. Thanks for meeting me!” His friends scooted over to make more room, and after they all said hi, they pretty much left us alone to talk. I pulled out my notebook and tried to eat my soup left-handed so I could write at the same time.
We chatted aimlessly at first, and then I began working my way down my list of questions: favorite teacher, favorite class, most memorable moment. Jimmy was a great subject. He was funny, opinionated, and not at all shy. I had so many good quotes from him, I wondered if I should pull him out of the article and just write him up as a solo profile.
“Jimmy,” I said finally, “I think you’re going to be a star. Will you remember me, your first interviewer, when you hit the big time? Will you let me come interview you in your massive hotel suite before the Oscars?”
He laughed. “Anytime. As long as you promise to write only good stuff.”
We’d had so much fun that the lunchroom had kind of cleared out around us. I looked at the big clock on the wall. “Oops! Last question! Okay, any parting advice for the younger grades?” I asked.
For once, Jimmy was actually quiet. After a long pause, he said, “I guess . . . I wish I’d gotten started earlier. I wish I had auditioned for the very first play in my first year here, rather than waiting until seventh grade. I really want to be an actor, and it would have been good to get started earlier.”
“I don’t think the wait held you back at all!” I protested.
“No, but just . . . think of all the fun I missed! All the experience. If I could share a piece of advice, it’s to just go for it. If you think something is interesting, give it a try. This is the time and place in your life to do it.”
I scrawled the last few words down and snapped my notebook shut. “Great interview!” I said. “Thank you so much!”
“Thank you!” said Jimmy. “If you run it, I’ll have something for my clipping file.”
I stood up with my tray, and something caught my eye across the cafeteria. It was Michael Lawrence, standing in the doorway, staring at me and Jimmy. I wanted to wave, but my hands were full. Jimmy didn’t notice
him there, and when he said something funny and laughed, I had to kind of laugh too. But as I watched, Michael put his head down and quickly crossed the room to grab a sweater he’d left on his chair. Suddenly, I felt really, really bad, even though I hadn’t done anything.
“Walk you to class?” offered Jimmy.
“Um . . . ”
But Michael was gone.
“Sure. Thanks.”
I didn’t know what Michael had made of me and Jimmy having a long, lingering lunch together. But I did know that if the shoe was on the other foot, I would not have liked it one bit. A sickish feeling settled into my chest and stayed there for the rest of the day. I had to think of a way to reach out to Michael. But how? I couldn’t exactly say, Hey, I love you and I think you might like me, though you don’t show it often. But today, with Jimmy? That was just work. Nothing to it. Now let’s go out on a date, okay? And don’t forget to wear something washed in Tide.
Ugh.
That afternoon I couldn’t bear to hang around the gym watching Hailey’s practice while I waited for mine to begin. I decided to chill at the newspaper office for an hour, secretly hoping that I might catch a glimpse of Michael and at least have a reason to chat with him.
There was hardly anyone there when I went in. Jeff Perry, one of the paper’s photographers (not to mention one of Michael’s best friends), was scrolling through photos he’d taken of eighth graders to accompany my article.
After we said hi, I stood behind him and looked over his shoulder, offering my opinion on which photos I liked.
Mr. Trigg heard us talking and came out to say hello.
“How’s the article shaping up, Ms. Martone?”
“Actually, it’s really good so far,” I said. I had to smile, thinking of Jimmy Becker.
Mr. Trigg was pleased. He rocked on his heels and flopped his trademark scarf over his shoulder. “Good, good. So you have some good material?”
