Old Story, New Twist

by Rachel Wise

  “Hey, Jenna!” I said.

  “Hi, Sam!” Jenna was definitely happy to see me.

  “Are you here to practice?” I asked.

  Jenna laughed. “No, I’m not trying out! I told you, I’m just a fan.”

  I gave her a knowing look. “Okay, but whenever you’re ready, I am happy to train with you. Just say the word.”

  “Thanks,” she said. “So what’s new? Any big weekend plans?”

  “Nah,” I said, thinking of my nonexistent baking date with Michael. I was hoping against hope that when I got home from training, there’d be a message from him.

  “How are things with Michael Lawrence?” Jenna asked with a smile.

  In shock, I turned to her. “What? But how did you know . . . ?” I spluttered.

  Jenna laughed. “I may be shy, but I’m not blind! One advantage of being the new kid is that you are kind of invisible, so you really get to observe. I can just tell you like him by the way your face lights up whenever you see him.”

  I beamed. “I really do like him. I just wonder why he doesn’t notice.”

  “Boys are dense,” she said. “But I’m sure he’ll come around.”

  “Any boy plans in your future?” I asked in a gently teasing voice. I knew there weren’t, because she was so new and everything.

  But Jenna blushed. “Actually, I have a movie date tomorrow.”

  “That’s great! Someone from here?” I asked, racking my brains for anyone suitable.

  Jenna nodded. “Yeah! Danny Burke,” she said.

  My jaw must’ve dropped, but I was speechless.

  “I know,” she said, modest but obviously proud. “I couldn’t believe it either when he asked.”

  “Wow,” I said, shaking my head. My heart was racing with anger. Should I tell Jenna? Hailey? What to do? “That’s, um . . . what are you going to see?”

  Jenna named a movie, and at least it wasn’t the one Hailey was going to see with him today. That would have just been too much.

  “Well, I want to hear all about it next week. You should sit with us at lunch on Monday,” I said. In the meantime, I vowed to get in touch with Mr. Burke himself. My interview request was long overdue. Maybe I’d just rake him over the coals face-to-face, while taking notes. Let’s see how he’d like that!

  “Okay! See you then!” said Jenna, obviously psyched to have a friend.

  Watch out, Mr. Burke, I thought. Because Sam Martone, aka Super Friend, is coming to get you. And she is out for revenge!

  I crossed back over to Allie and Hailey, biting my tongue to keep from saying anything. I wouldn’t even be able to tell Allie later, because I knew Hailey would be mortified if Allie knew.

  “All right, ladies, let’s get down to business,” I said. If we could just focus on the routines, I’d be in good shape.

  “Great,” said Allie, rubbing her palms together in kind of an evil way.

  Oh no, I thought. Now what?

  Then I tripped on the vault mat and had to sit for a few minutes until the pain in my foot subsided.

  To her credit, Allie helped me a lot. She gave me a bunch of ideas (easy tricks that looked hard) and tips, and she gave Hailey some pointers of things for us to work on next week before tryouts. I had to hug her at the end because she really was helpful.

  I hugged Hailey, too, when we parted, even though Hailey is not much of a hugger.

  “Good luck. Have fun!” I said, and she nodded. I knew she was nervous. I just hoped it went well and that Danny didn’t break her heart. (I knew she wouldn’t be breaking his. How can your heart break when you have so many other hearts waiting in the wings for it?)

  At home I marched up the stairs to e-mail Danny Burke to set up our interview. I looked forward to phrasing it in the most businesslike manner so there wouldn’t be any confusion as to why I was contacting him. In my anger, I had momentarily forgotten I was waiting to hear from Michael, so imagine my surprise when I found an IM from him waiting.

  Pasty, sorry for delay. Finally got everyone to clear out for a couple hours tomorrow. R u free from 2-4? LMK. Thx.

  Aha! So that was it! He didn’t want anyone snooping around while we were baking! That was a good sign. Smiling, I sat in my swivel chair and spun from side to side happily. Good things come to those who wait, I told myself. And I didn’t even spin myself out of my chair.

  And now for Danny Burke!

  In honor of Danny, I cracked my knuckles and rolled up my sleeves, then I began to type. It took a little while to get the wording right, but I was pretty satisfied with the end product.

  Danny,

  The Cherry Valley Voice has requested I interview you for an upcoming article on eighth graders’ experiences at the school. I know how busy you are, but if you are willing to participate, please reply to me with at least three time slots when you would be available for an interview.

  Thank you,

  Samantha Martone

  I squinted and considered not italicizing the word “know,” but I decided I’d let him wonder what I meant by that. It would keep him on his toes. I couldn’t wait to come up with some questions for Mr. Lover Boy that would really call him out.

  Since I was on a roll, I took out the Dear Know-It-All letter from Jenna and gave it another read. Then, picturing her happy face at the gym, I settled into writing what turned out to be a very inspiring response, if I do say so myself. I thought a lot about my interviews with the eighth graders and how they focused on doing things now so you didn’t regret not trying later. I even used carpe diem, which was a big Mr. Trigg phrase; it means “seize the day” in Latin. I knew he’d like it. Then I sent it off to Mr. Trigg by e-mail for his review.

  That night I must’ve checked my computer a dozen times, hoping for word from Hailey. Either it had gone great or gone terribly, but she wasn’t saying. I didn’t want to IM her because I didn’t want to put her on the spot, but it was agony to be kept in suspense.

  Even Allie poked her head in once, to check. “Any word from Hailey?” she asked.

  “Uh-uh,” I replied.

  “Hmm,” said Allie. And she shut the door.

  Well, I thought, turning off my computer that night and getting ready to climb into my bed with a book, whatever happened happened. I just hoped Hailey was okay.

  Despite Warnings and Advice, Friend Must Go It Alone.

  I couldn’t say I wished the same for myself.

  Chapter 10

  JOURNALIST AIMS TO BE VOICE OF REASON

  I finally bit the bullet and called Hailey at ten on Sunday morning.

  “Hey!” I said, all casual. “What’s up?”

  “Not much,” said Hailey. “What are you doing today?”

  I debated telling her about my baking plans with Michael, not knowing how yesterday had gone for her. But I could hardly lie. “Actually, Michael finally invited me over to bake! Woo-hoo!”

  She laughed. “Yay! Just don’t eat too many buns. We’ve got gymnastics to practice tomorrow, and you need to feel your best.”

  “Right. As if I’m making the team anyway,” I said. I’d committed to trying out after Allie put all that time into my practice yesterday. Hailey’s disappointment I could deal with; she was used to me bagging out on athletic stuff. But Allie would never let me live it down if I’d wasted her time.

  “Okay, Hails, you’re killing me. How did it go yesterday?”

  There was a pause. “Um, actually, it was really fun. I liked the movie.”

  “Yeah, yeah, but what about Danny? Was he nice? Did you guys talk?”

  “Well, it was kind of awkward at first. But once the movie started, we laughed and stuff. Then after, we talked for a minute and our moms came to get us so it was kind of over.”

  “Huh.” It sounded like kind of a letdown. But maybe that’s what all dates were like.

  “Yeah.”

  We were quiet for a minute. “So do you like him?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” admitted Hailey.

 
“Do you think he likes you?”

  “I think he likes a lot of people,” said Hailey.

  Finally! This was heading in the right direction. “Why do you think that?” I asked, all innocent.

  “Well, because while we were waiting to go in, we played a couple of video games in the lobby, and he kind of flirted with a lot of girls around.”

  “Oh. That’s annoying.”

  “Yeah. So . . . ”

  Hailey sounded sad. I didn’t know what to say.

  “Well . . . ,” I said.

  “Anyway, it’s pretty cool that you’re going to Michael’s later!” Hailey is such a good friend. She sounded happy for me for real.

  “Yeah.” I smiled. “I’ll let you know how it goes.”

  “Yeah, don’t keep me waiting,” she joked.

  “Ahem!”

  And we laughed.

  Later that afternoon I almost ended up being late for my baking date, which would not have been good.

  Allie got wind of my plans and decided she needed to curl my hair with a curling iron. But she went overboard and I wound up looking like a baby doll with ringlets, so I had to wash my hair, which meant I needed to change my outfit (which I had already changed five times). I finally settled on a high ponytail, a fitted gray turtleneck, my pearl-colored cords with a black belt, and chunky ankle boots of Allie’s that I borrowed (and were slightly too large).

  Anyway, I clomped over to Michael’s, breathless, and just made it by 2:05.

  The Lawrence house is nice. It’s painted white with dark shutters on a really pretty street. When I arrived, his parents were still there.

  His dad opened the door, and Michael came skidding out to greet me, sliding on his socks in the front hall. His dad looked just like him, only with salt-and-pepper hair and some wrinkles when he smiled. He was friendly to me and teased Michael about his new cooking school.

  In the kitchen I said hi to his mom, whom I’d met before. She’s very pretty and also friendly—older than my mom, but then Michael has two older brothers. His mom had a big basket of clean laundry she was carrying upstairs. “Sports clothes,” she said, rolling her eyes and laughing.

  “What a surprise!” I said.

  Michael was nervous, I could tell. So was I. I almost wished his parents would stay and hang out in the kitchen with us. I could talk to grown-ups all day, but leave me alone with a cute boy and no actual article to write and I get tongue-tied.

  “Offer Sam something to drink,” called his mother as she left the room.

  “So . . . can I get you something to drink?” he asked.

  I wasn’t really thirsty, but I remembered how grateful I’d been when Michael had been over at my house and had said yes to a drink. It gave me something to do, getting it, and it calmed us both down a lot.

  “Sure,” I said, thinking of all that in a flash.

  Michael grinned. “Great!” He flung open the fridge. “We have Gatorade, Powerade, protein smoothies, fortified coconut water—”

  “Ugh! I think I’ll skip the jock juice and just go with plain water, please.”

  “Smart choice,” said Michael, and while he busied himself getting it, I looked around. Michael had laid out all of the ingredients and the tools we’d need. I was impressed with his organization skills. The oven was preheated, the butter was soft. It looked like he’d been ready for a while.

  “So, what’s up with your article?” I asked, making conversation.

  “It’s okay. But it turns out high finance is not as juicy as we’d hoped,” he said.

  I studied his face to see if he’d give more away.

  “Is Austin nice?” I asked. I knew I was fishing, but I wanted a little more feedback than I was getting.

  “Yeah. He’s cool. He’s a great writer,” said Michael, handing me a glass of ice water.

  I flinched. Was Austin a better writer than me? I couldn’t actually ask. That would really be fishing.

  “Cool,” I said, taking a sip of my water.

  “It’s not the same as working with you.” Michael shrugged casually.

  I raised one eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” I teased, dreading one answer and hoping for the other.

  Michael looked up and smiled. “It’s just different.”

  Hmm. Okay. It was obvious he wasn’t going to give me any more information. Time to change the subject.

  “All right, so how do you make your world-famous cinnamon buns?” I asked, hopping up on a stool at the counter.

  “First we wash our hands,” said Michael with a smile.

  I jumped down to follow suit and then let myself me guided through the entire step-by-step recipe. It wasn’t that hard after all, and I think Michael liked being the teacher and me being the student. Usually, we’re sort of competitive with each other. It was nice to just relax around each other. Also, I didn’t drop anything or trip or fall or do anything klutzy!

  Novice Holds It Together in Company of Pro!

  When the cinnamon buns were baking and we were whisking the sugar icing, talk turned to Danny Burke.

  “That guy is too much,” said Michael.

  “I know!” I agreed.

  “I think he’s probably pretty nice, but his whole ‘ladies’ man’ thing is really annoying. I wonder what he was like at his old school.”

  “I’m tempted to do some digging and find out. You remember I have to interview him for my article?”

  “Right! I forgot! When?”

  “I’m not sure yet. Soon,” I said. “I can’t wait to grill him. Did you know he asked Hailey to the movies yesterday and Jenna today?”

  “Gross,” said Michael.

  “He must have some kind of a weird complex,” I said. “And I wish I could tell Hailey and Jenna about each other, but I don’t dare.”

  Michael looked at me. “You can’t. You’ve just got to let them find out on their own.”

  I nodded miserably. “I just hate keeping secrets from my friends.” I sighed, thinking how I was keeping my job as Know-It-All a secret from Michael.

  We talked about a lot of things—school, news, journalism, sports—and it was really fun. Michael gave me a few tips on making the buns, and although I had gone through all the motions, I was pretty distracted. I’m not sure I could reproduce the same results in my own kitchen.

  At the end, we frosted the buns, and once they’d cooled a little, we sat down to have some with a glass of milk.

  “Oooh, Hailey would kill me if she could see me right now,” I said, grinning guiltily.

  “Why?” Michael looked confused.

  “Eating a cinnamon bun while I’m supposed to be in training for gymnastics,” I said. “Oh well!”

  “I wouldn’t worry. I’m sure you’ve got enough talent that one little cinnamon bun won’t kill you.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “So exactly how many little cinnamon buns will kill me?” I asked, greedily eyeing the plate with a smile.

  When it was time to leave, I was bummed. But we both had homework, and Michael seemed to want me out of there before his brothers got home. I could relate. He wanted to walk me home. I said he didn’t have to, but I was hoping he would. He insisted anyway, and I was really psyched. I had a little doggy bag of cinnamon buns in my hand, and we talked the whole way.

  When we reached my gate, Michael put his hands in his pockets.

  “Well, thanks!” I said. “Sorry I had to beat your door down for the baking lesson. I just didn’t want to have to rely on you for my cinnamon bun needs.” I was nervous. Was I supposed to hug him good-bye or something? We had fun together, but maybe he didn’t like me that way.

  “You can always count on me, Pasty,” said Michael.

  Now I was grinning from ear to ear. “Thanks. Ditto,” I said. “Well. Bye!”

  Michael was grinning too. “Bye!” he said, and I turned and fled up my driveway. When I got to the door, I turned back and he was still there. I waved happily and he waved back, and then he se
t off back to his house.

  What a great afternoon!

  Inside, I flung off my coat and ran upstairs. I had to tell someone all about my amazing time with Michael. But at the top of the stairs, I hesitated. I’d been about to IM Hailey, but I suddenly realized it wouldn’t be fair to gush on and on about how great my time with Michael had been when hers with Danny hadn’t been the best. Hmm. Maybe Allie.

  I knocked on her door but it turned out she wasn’t home. Disappointed, I went into my room and checked my IMs anyway. There was one from Hailey asking how it went (that was nice) and one from Mr. Trigg saying he loved my Dear Know-It-All response letter (yay!). And I had an e-mail from Danny Burke:

  Hey, Sammy. Can do first free tomorrow or lunch, or Tues first free. I’m lovin’ that I’m tabloid material! See ya! DB

  Sammy? I thought I might puke. And worse, I didn’t have first free period available either day, so it would have to be lunch tomorrow. I gulped and typed back.

  Danny, see you at lunch tomorrow. Thanks. Samantha.

  I shuddered and sat still, debating whether to call Hailey. Then my IM beeped.

  How was it????

  I smiled and typed back.

  Great! Thanks. Will call u later.

  I couldn’t call Hailey now. I decided to wait until I calmed down a bit. In the meantime, I plotted out my article. I could just slot Danny’s material into it tomorrow night when I got home and submit the article first thing Tuesday.

  Scanning through my notes and quotes, I realized there was a theme: I wish. Every eighth grader had said they wished they’d done something, whether it was Cintra wishing she hadn’t been so shy in the beginning, or Jimmy wishing he’d tried out for plays sooner, or Walter wishing he’d known about the robotics class. I knew I needed to write an article that encouraged people to go for it, to try everything, work hard, be outgoing, take risks, and make the most of their time at Cherry Valley Middle School. Kind of like my letter to Jenna. That would be easy.