Bessica 1 - The Reinvention of Bessica Lefter

by Kristen Tracy

  “Sort of,” I said.

  “Unbelievable,” Sylvie said. “I didn’t know that you had that in you.”

  “Well, when it comes to winning mascot, there are three things you’ve got to do. Thing one: Show up. Thing two: Be proud. Thing three: Shake your rear end like a wild animal!”

  “You’re so funny,” Sylvie said. “I forgot how funny you are.”

  “Yeah. I’m pretty funny.”

  “Bessica, I miss you,” Sylvie said.

  And my heart sped up. Hearing Sylvie say those words was the sweetest moment of my year.

  “I miss you too,” I said.

  “We should hang out,” Sylvie said.

  “I know. I know. Your mom told me I could come over!”

  “She’s softening,” Sylvie said.

  “That’s great!” I said. Mrs. Potaski needed some softening.

  “She thinks you’re becoming more mature.”

  “She does?” Because I didn’t think I was becoming more mature. Then I added, “Don’t tell her that I sweat off my pants.”

  “She told me we could hang out on Saturday if you’re free.”

  I was so happy. I could feel a humming sensation dancing through me.

  “I can show you my mascot moves!” I said.

  “Yeah!” Sylvie said. “I’ve learned all kinds of dance stuff that would work really well for bears.”

  “Oh my heck!” I said. “That’s so cool!”

  “And maybe Malory can come!”

  I stopped breathing.

  “Bessica, you need to get to know Malory and forgive her for being a blabbermouth,” Sylvie said.

  I continued not breathing.

  “I forgave you for yelling at me and accusing me of all sorts of terrible things that I didn’t do and for telling me to get a terrible pixie cut.”

  I hated it when Sylvie got reasonable. I had yelled at her and accused her of things she hadn’t done. So I cleared my throat and said Sylvie’s name in a very serious way. “Sylvie Potaski.”

  “What?” she asked.

  “I apologize for yelling at you and accusing you of showing people our diary.”

  “I never showed anybody,” Sylvie said.

  “I know.” Then I tried to make it seem like no big deal. So I laughed and said, “It was a big misunderstanding. Ha-ha-ha.”

  “What? You need to explain,” Sylvie said in an unhappy tone.

  I felt so lame telling her the whole story. “She never read the diary. I sort of forgot that in third grade I wrote Kettle a few notes where I confessed my huge crush on him. And I guess he held on to them. And passed them around at a family reunion.”

  Sylvie gasped.

  “Turns out he and Alice Potgeiser are second cousins.”

  “What a dweeb. Who takes notes like that to a family reunion?”

  “Exactly,” I said.

  “Let’s forget Kettle Harris and Alice Potgeiser.”

  “Totally,” I said. Even though I was thinking about Alice quite a bit because I was really hoping I’d kicked her butt.

  “Oh, Bessica, come over Saturday. I’ll tell Malory to bring her ferret named Taco. He’s amazing.”

  The thought of playing with Malory’s ferret made me feel skittish.

  “Why can’t you give Malory a second chance?” Sylvie asked. “She’s a nice person. She’s trying to start over and be brand new. You of all people should understand that.”

  And when Sylvie put it that way, it made it hard for me to object.

  “Okay,” I said. “I’ll come hang out with you and Malory, and play with Taco.”

  “Cool!” Sylvie said. And she sounded so happy. She sounded exactly like the old Sylvie I loved and missed.

  “You’ve got to call me as soon as you know if you’ve won,” Sylvie said.

  “Okay,” I said.

  After I got ready for bed, I climbed under the covers and stared at my ceiling. I didn’t think I’d be able to sleep at all. My mom cracked open the door and whispered to me.

  “Have you called Grandma and told her how things went?”

  “I did. She feels like I’ve got a shot. Because the world likes underdogs.”

  “That’s true. But it’s okay if you don’t win too. It’s not a matter of life or death.”

  “Sure it’s not,” I said.

  Then my mom shut my door and left me in a huge cube of darkness. It was so hard to fall asleep. I thought it was never going to happen.

  wasn’t sure how or when I would find out who won. I walked into school with my stomach tied in knots. Lots of people waved to me and said, “Great job!” But these people could have thought that I’d done a great job and then voted for Alice or Dolan the Puker.

  Psycho-bully Redge glared at me like normal in nutrition. I got him his pen and sat very still while Mrs. Mounds took roll. Maybe I’d find out at lunch. Maybe I’d find out at the end of the day. Maybe they’d call me at home after school. Then the intercom in the room crackled to life. “Bessica Lefter, Dolan Burr, and Alice Potgeiser, please come to the office.”

  Holy crud! I was going to find out right now. Was I ready to find out right now? I stood up. Either I’d won and would secure a place in middle school as the awesome grizzly-bear mascot, or I’d lost and would go back to my old place, which wasn’t anything.

  “Good luck, Bessica,” Mrs. Mounds said as I left the room.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  Halfway to the office, I ran into Alice. “You look so freaked out,” she said. And she didn’t give me time to rebut this. She just kept talking. “You must feel rotten. I mean, this whole voting system is totally unfair to you. Seriously. I’m popular. I’ve been a cheerleader for a year and have tons of friends. Plus, I’ve got an injury, which pulls in a ton of sympathy votes. It’s sort of impossible to beat me. So don’t be supersad when you lose. Okay?”

  I really wished I hadn’t run into Alice. She was such a snobby downer. I couldn’t believe she had such a huge group of friends. It was weird. When we got to the principal’s office, Dolan the Puker was already seated in a chair in front of Principal Tidge’s desk. I sat down on one side of him and Alice sat down on the other. She looked very confident. Dolan looked sort of like me: worried.

  “Congratulations,” Principal Tidge said. “All three of you did a spectacular job. Honestly, I’m sure you’d all make outstanding mascots for North Teton Middle School.”

  While that was a nice thing to say, I also knew that it wasn’t going to happen. I glanced at a pile of papers stuffed inside a box on top of a filing cabinet. There were so many that they were flowing out of the box and onto the floor. They were the ballots. Oh my heck! I could see my name checkmarked on some of them!

  “Dolan,” Principal Tidge said, “even though the votes were close, I am afraid that you did not win mascot. But nice job on that tricycle. You’ve got a great, creative future ahead of you.”

  Dolan stood up and left without saying anything. I looked at Alice. But Alice didn’t look at me. I didn’t like that we were being dismissed one person at a time. I felt Principal Tidge should have just announced the winner and gotten it over with.

  “Bessica,” she said.

  I dropped my head a little bit in disappointment. I really thought I had a chance. In my heart I knew I would have made an awesome bear.

  “Your mascot abilities are obviously innate. Your comedic timing is brilliant. Your sense of showmanship is a thrill to watch.” She smiled at me so proudly. It was the way my parents smiled at me when I graduated from elementary school. I couldn’t believe that she was about to tell me that I’d lost.

  “Alice, you are one of the most acrobatically talented people I have ever met. It is a joy to watch your strength and flexibility in action.”

  Alice beamed when Principal Tidge told her this.

  “As impossible as this might seem”—she leaned forward on her desk—“there is no clear winner. It is a statistical tie.”

  “What?” Al
ice said. “That’s impossible. Have all the ballots been counted?”

  “Counted and recounted and recounted,” Principal Tidge said.

  “Does the whole school have to vote again?” I asked. That seemed like a huge waste of paper. Also, waiting for the results a second time would probably kill me.

  “We have options,” Principal Tidge said. “And what I’ve chosen to do is to split mascot duties evenly.”

  “What?” Alice asked. “There’ll be two of us?”

  Principal Tidge nodded. “Exactly. We’ll take a schedule of the games and you two will decide who will cheer at which event. There are an even number of games. So you will divide them equally.”

  I couldn’t believe there was a tie. I was going to be the mascot. Only half of the time. But that wasn’t losing. That was half winning!

  “There’s got to be another solution,” Alice said. “People were absent yesterday. They should have a chance to vote. They could cast the tie-breaking ballots!”

  That made sense. I hoped Principal Tidge didn’t do that. Because I’d rather be a half winner than a full loser.

  “I don’t mind being a half mascot,” I said.

  “You’re a full mascot,” Principal Tidge said. “Just half of the time.”

  I smiled. I looked at Alice. She wasn’t smiling. She looked majorly upset.

  “When will we divide out the games?” I asked. I thought of the various schools we played against. Would I fight the Snake River Tiger? Would I cheer against the Flat Creek Bald Eagle? Who would fight the Teton Village Cougar? And the Powderhorn Spud? I couldn’t wait to find out.

  “I’ve printed out schedules to send home with you so you can discuss it with your parents. Mrs. Batts will be in touch with them and then we’ll generate a schedule.”

  “Who gets the costume? Normally the mascot gets to take it home,” Alice said.

  Principal Tidge nodded to a coatrack. There hung the giant fur costume. It looked like a real bear. Brown furry legs. Brown furry arms. And an enormous brown furry head. It looked awesome!

  “We’ll store it here, but you’ll be able to check it out the day before games.”

  Alice released a puff of disappointment. “I think we should revote. This is insanity.”

  “The decision has been made,” Principal Tidge said. “Congratulations to you both.”

  I stood up and looked at the toppling pile of votes again. It seemed impossible that there was an exact tie. But I guessed that anything was possible.

  “I’m telling you right now that I want to fight the Buffalo Valley Wildcat,” Alice said. “I hate Mikey Mason. He’s the wildcat this year. I’ll tear him down.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  “This is so ridiculous. Stupid wrist.” She lifted her wrist brace and shook it at the ceiling. “Who are we kidding? Being a mascot is beneath me. I should be a cheerleader.”

  “You could always quit,” I said. I thought this was a brilliant suggestion on my part.

  “Dream on,” Alice said. “Potgeisers don’t quit. We conquer.”

  Then I decided to be the bigger person. “I know you’re disappointed, but congratulations.”

  Alice looked at me in total disgust and blinked. “I can’t believe you just said that. For a sixth grader, you are so sarcastic. Seriously. And who even votes for a sixth grader? Who?”

  And I felt like telling her that I was not being sarcastic and about half of the school voted for a sixth grader. But I didn’t. It was a no-win situation for me. If Alice wanted to be a jerk about half winning, I was just going to have to let her be a jerk. I kept walking back to nutrition. But before I went inside I decided to do something. I went to my locker and got out my banned cell phone. I looked left and right to make sure that nobody was watching. The coast was clear. So I texted Grandma:

  You were right. The world loves underdogs. I half won! Have fun with Willy. Come home soon. XXOO BL

  y mom drove me to Sylvie’s house for lunch on Saturday. In addition to my fur pants, I carried a box from the bakery that held four blueberry tarts. One tart for everybody.

  “I don’t even know if they’ll like tarts,” I said. “I should have brought cake. Everybody likes cake.”

  “Tarts are special. They’ll be a huge hit!” my mom said as she pulled into Sylvie’s driveway.

  “I guess,” I said. I couldn’t remember ever eating a tart before. I balanced the box on my legs and carefully opened the car door.

  “Do you want me to help you carry anything?”

  I shook my head. I didn’t need help.

  “Are you sure you need to take your pants?” she asked.

  My jaw dropped. “Of course I need to bring them. Sylvie is going to teach me dance moves. I need to learn how to do them in fur pants to make sure I do them properly.”

  My mom smiled. “I’m very proud of you. You’re thinking like a mascot!”

  I rolled my eyes, got out of the car, and hurried to Sylvie’s front door. I didn’t have to knock. The door swung open and I saw Sylvie.

  “Oh my heck!” I yelled. “I love your hair!”

  Sylvie was wearing a yellow headband that looked very cute.

  “Thanks!” Sylvie said. “It keeps my bangs off my forehead.”

  “Nice,” I said. Because I hadn’t even thought of trying to keep my bangs off my forehead. Then I stepped into Sylvie’s house and I saw something that I didn’t want to see. I saw Malory, and she was wearing a headband too. Malory waved at me. I waved back with my fingers only, because my hands were full.

  “What’s in the box?” Malory asked.

  “Tarts,” I said.

  “I love tarts!” Malory said.

  Then Mrs. Potaski rounded the corner. My heart felt jumpy. Even though we had made up at the window of the craft store, it still felt a little awkward standing face to face with her.

  “Hi, Mrs. Potaski.” I gave her a fingers-only wave too.

  “Let me take those from you,” Mrs. Potaski said. She reached down and took the box, but I kept my fur pants. Then she gave me a little hug. And it felt pretty terrific.

  “Those are my bear pants,” I said. “I’m a mascot.”

  Mrs. Potaski smiled at me. “I heard. And you jump rope.”

  I nodded.

  “And you brought us tarts?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I said. “Blueberry. We each get our own.”

  “Lovely,” Mrs. Potaski said. “Why don’t you girls go catch up. I’ll call you when lunch is ready.”

  “Cool,” I said. Even though I only wanted to catch up with Sylvie.

  “Let’s go watch Taco!” Sylvie said.

  Mrs. Potaski frowned a little. “If you take the ferret out of the cage, make sure your bedroom door is shut so he can’t rampage through the house again.”

  “I know,” Sylvie said.

  “Malory’s ferret rampaged through the house?” I asked. Because I was starting to like the ferret a little.

  “Ferrets are pretty high-strung animals,” Malory said. “Containment isn’t in their nature.”

  “Oh,” I said. That made sense.

  When we got to Sylvie’s bedroom, I spotted the ferret right away, because he was skinny and brown and chewing a hole in Sylvie’s clothes hamper.

  “Stop that, Taco!” Malory said.

  But Taco didn’t stop.

  Malory scooped him up and held him to her chest. “Do you want to hold him? He loves sniffing new people.”

  I held my hands up. “Ferrets freak me out.”

  “Don’t freak out,” Sylvie said. She reached out and took hold of Taco. “This ferret is amazing. He knows geography.”

  I wasn’t all that excited about walking into Sylvie’s bedroom and meeting a ferret that knew geography. I wanted to learn bear dance moves. It was the whole reason I’d brought my fur pants.

  “When are you going to teach me dance stuff?” I asked.

  “After we play with Taco!” Sylvie said.

  I decid
ed I would play with Taco for ten minutes and then demand to learn dance moves.

  “Taco can find any state on a map,” Sylvie said.

  But I didn’t think that was all that special. Because I learned how to do that in third grade.

  Sylvie pointed to a map of the United States that was spread out on her bedroom floor. Each state had a Cheerio on it. “Watch!” Sylvie said.

  “Kentucky!” Malory said.

  Sylvie set the ferret down and it lowered its nose to the map. It sniffed quickly, twitching its nose over and over.

  “Does Kentucky smell different than other states?” I asked.

  “Watch!” Sylvie said.

  And then I watched as Taco walked across Texas and Louisiana. For a second it looked like he was going to turn south and go to Florida, but he didn’t. He hurried up to Kentucky and ate the Cheerio.

  “Wow,” I said. “Your ferret knows Kentucky.”

  “Taco knows all the states,” Malory said. “Vermont!”

  I watched Taco scurry across the map, dislodging Cheerios from West Virginia, Pennsylvania, and New York as he hightailed it to Vermont.

  It was impressive. “That ferret could be on TV,” I said.

  “I know,” Malory said. She pulled at her headband and readjusted it. “First I want to teach him all the countries in Africa. Because I think my ferret has global potential.”

  “He does!” Sylvie said. Then she giggled and rushed toward Taco and plucked him off the map.

  “I didn’t know you liked ferrets so much,” I said. Because as far as I knew, Taco was the first ferret Sylvie had ever seen.

  Sylvie looked up at me and smiled. “I have learned so much about myself since school started.”

  “Oh,” I said. I guess I’d learned some stuff about myself too. For instance, according to Principal Tidge, I had great comedic timing.

  “Being brand-new is awesome,” Sylvie said. She set Taco down on the carpet and he scampered to my feet. He sniffed my shoes and looked up at me.

  “Does he bite?” I asked.

  “It depends,” Malory said.

  I picked him up anyway, and he tried to burrow his head in my armpit, which I thought was pretty rude. But I guessed a ferret wouldn’t know that.

  It felt really weird to be standing in Sylvie’s bedroom holding a ferret and not knowing what to say. So I sat down on Sylvie’s bed. I liked being brand-new too. But I also missed things about my old life. Like Sylvie. And Grandma. And I didn’t want to hide this from Sylvie.