Eliza Bing Is (NOT) a Big, Fat Quitter

by Carmella Van Vleet

  I couldn’t tell if she was being serious or teasing me. She sounded like she was serious. Like she was trying to be nice. One minute she’s not talking to me and scowling, and the next she’s asking about my sore lip. What on planet Earth was that all about?

  WHY I CHICKENED OUT OF ASKING FOR A NEW HANDBOOK

  Mom had an early shift, so she was able to take me to taekwondo on Saturday afternoon. She still hadn’t noticed I wasn’t talking to her. But at least I didn’t have to ride with Madison.

  I was going to ask for a new handbook after class. I swear. But Master Kim was talking to Madison in the back of the room. And he wasn’t smiling.

  I’d noticed during class that Madison was standing in the back row. She wasn’t wearing her belt, either.

  I waited by the door and pretended my bag zipper was stuck. “A good martial artist is responsible for her own equipment,” Master Kim told Madison. “If you forget your belt again, you will be asked to sit out class.”

  “Yes sir,” she mumbled.

  I kept fiddling with my bag, trying to come up with what I’d say, and missed Master Kim walking toward me.

  “Did you need something, Eliza?”

  My heart about jumped through my skin.

  Words tumbled in my head like socks in a dryer. Handbook. Sweet Caroline. Ask. Responsibility.

  “No sir,” I told him.

  I decided I’d just have to keep looking.

  IN THE BATHROOM

  When I went to change, Madison was in the bathroom, leaning over the sink and splashing water on her face. She looked up, and I caught her refection in the mirror. Her eyes were red and shiny.

  I have no idea what possessed me—but I opened my big mouth. “I lose things all the time,” I said. “I can’t find my student handbook.”

  “I didn’t lose my belt,” she informed me with a sniff. “I forgot it.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah. Well,” Madison said. She rubbed her nose a few times and then headed toward the door. “Okay.”

  “See ya Wednesday I guess,” I called after her.

  She was almost to the door and she wasn’t facing me, but I thought I heard her say something back. And I could’ve sworn it sounded like, “See ya.”

  LIGHTS, CAMERA . . . OH

  I had an orthodontist appointment on Tuesday. Dad drove Mom to work and then skipped his class so he could take me. He was going to have to do that for my Friday appointment, too.

  The night before, I offered to bail on the whole braces thing if it was going to be so much trouble getting there; but Mom just said, “Nice try.”

  Dad and I were getting ready to leave when Sam came waltzing in. “Can I drive? I’ve got my ID.” He flashed the wallet he’d bought over the weekend. The one with the see-through spot for his learner’s license.

  I scowled at him. “I don’t want to ride with you. You run red lights.”

  “Just that once,” Sam said like it was no big deal.

  “Sure; why not?” Dad told him. “Why don’t you grab the basketball, too? If we get done early, we can shoot some hoops over at the community center.”

  For once I hoped my orthodontist appointment ran long. Basketball, or more precisely, waiting on the hot bleachers watching basketball, was boring.

  Unfortunately my appointment was just to get some spacers put in and have a mold taken. It didn’t take that long. And the gooey mold stuff was supposed to taste like grape, but it didn’t, so it wasn’t turning out to be a good afternoon.

  I balanced on the edge of the burning-hot metal bleachers and watched Dad and Sam join in a pickup game. I wished I had a book or nail polish or something. About twenty minutes into the game, Dad ran over and pulled out his wallet. “Here,” he said, handing me a couple of dollar bills. “Go hit the vending machines. We’ll be done soon, okay?” He was just in time. I was melting.

  The cool air inside the community center froze the beads of sweat on my skin. It felt wonderful. Ahhh with a capital A. I bought a bag of cookies and a drink, and decided to walk around for a bit. Dad and Sam wouldn’t miss me.

  My feet ended up moving toward the cooking classroom. I hadn’t seen it yet and just wanted to take a peek.

  Instead of finding a deserted hallway, though, there was a commotion of sorts. Burly men with big stage lights and a skinny man pushing rolling cameras buzzed in and out of the room. A lady with a clipboard and a headset seemed to be directing everyone.

  I moved slowly along the wall to where a guy who looked just a little older than Sam was leaning on a mop sticking out from one of those rolling buckets. “What’s going on?” I asked him.

  “Some TV cake lady is doing a show or sump’in,” the guy said.

  My heart did the cha-cha inside my chest. “Sweet Caroline is here?” I asked.

  “Nah. I think she’s coming tomorrow and doing her show during one of the classes,” the guy answered. “They’re just setting up now ’cuz the TV van had to be somewhere else. That’s what I heard anyways.”

  Oh. My heart resumed normal speed.

  But still. This was cool news. Tony was going to be on TV!

  My first thought was that I had to call him. But my next thought was, Why hadn’t he called me? Maybe he was afraid I’d be jealous. And, well okay, I was a little bit. But I was happy for him, too. Being on TV would look great on his résumé. Maybe it would help him get into a good pastry-chef school.

  When I got home, I waited for the phone to ring for about an hour. Then I couldn’t take it anymore and called Tony’s house.

  “He’s not here,” his sister said.

  “Could you ask him to call Eliza please?” I asked.

  “Sure. No problem.”

  “Thanks,” I said before I hung up.

  It was time to get things settled once and for all.

  WEDNESDAY

  Tony didn’t call on Tuesday night or on Wednesday morning. Or Wednesday afternoon. I told myself he was just busy with the show, and he’d call later. The cake-decorating classroom was on the other side of the community center; but my stomach hurt (for real), so I stayed home from taekwondo anyway.

  BIRTHDAY PARTIES AND OTHER THINGS THAT SHOULD BE AGAINST THE LAW

  There wasn’t a whole lot to do for the next couple of days. Mom was working, Dad was studying; Sam was playing on the computer, and certain other people were busy not calling me back. I was so bored that I almost looked forward to going to the orthodontist.

  Dad checked his watch as the two of us sat in the waiting room. “Dr. Ohno must be running behind.”

  Ohno.

  That cracked me up every time. Get it? It’s like “Oh no! The orthodontist is coming! Run! Hide!”

  I didn’t care if the doctor was running late. It wasn’t like I was looking forward to getting my braces. Plus it gave me more time to reread my favorite book, Savvy by Ingrid Law. It was about a girl named Mibs who got special powers on her thirteenth birthday. I wished I had special powers. Or at the very least, straight teeth.

  Unfortunately Dr. Ohno’s assistant eventually showed up and took me back. Two long and boring hours later, I was standing in front of the mirror in the hallway. I checked out my new braces and the purple bands I’d picked out. Gently rubbing my jaw, I decided making someone keep their mouth open for two hours should be against the law. So should nasty-tasting-bracket glue. And pokey wires, too, for that matter.

  “Hi Eliza!” someone said.

  I turned to see a girl walking toward me. Her name was Annie, and she was in my class at school. I waved.

  Annie talked faster than anyone I knew. Especially when she was excited. She also talked a lot. But she was one of the few people who was nice to me.

  “I’msogladIranintoyou!” she said. “I was gonna call, but now I don’t have to. You’re coming to Tony’s birthday party next week, right? Duh! Of course you are! I just got him a gift card. It’s not that exciting but I don’t know what guys like. Aren’t you stoked about getting to go to his pare
nts’ bakery? Tony says we’re going to decorate our own individual cakes. Won’t that be awesome? I can’t wait. Well, my moms are waiting for me. The three of us are going to a movie and then dinner. See ya!”

  I stared after her as she bounced down the hallway and out the door that led to the waiting area. I didn’t dare move. I was too afraid that if I did, the tears in my eyes would spill over.

  I WASN’T INVITED

  I managed to keep a poker face the whole way home. But when I got there, I headed straight upstairs. My eyes started prickling again even before I got to my room.

  I opened my closet door and stared at my to-do list: 4. Decide what to get Tony for his birthday party.

  I guess Tony had decided for me, so I got a pencil and crossed it off.

  I stared at the piece of paper and rubbed my wet cheeks with the back of my hand. Stupid tears. Stupid Tony!

  I imagined him with a stack of invitations. Maybe his mom said, “What about that lovely girl Eliza? The one who helped us with the cupcakes that one day. Aren’t you going to invite her?” And Tony lying, “Nah. She moved away.” I thought about how all the kids would show up, including Annie, and how everyone would get to make their own cakes and sing “Happy Birthday” and . . . and. . . .

  A sob snuck up on me and made it hard to breathe. The more I tried to fight back the tears, the harder and faster they came. After a while, I just gave in, sat down on my bedroom floor, and bawled my eyes out.

  When I was done, my head ached, and my arms and legs felt like they weighed a thousand pounds each. I climbed into bed and even though it was the afternoon, I pulled the covers over my head. I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew, Mom was knocking on my door.

  “Can I come in?” she asked.

  “It’s open,” I croaked and then rubbed my puffy eyes.

  Mom came in and put an ibuprofen tablet and a glass of water on my nightstand.

  “How you doing, sweetie?” she asked, settling on the edge of my bed. “Let’s see your braces.”

  I sat up and showed her my mouth full of metal.

  “Nice. I like the purple bands,” Mom said. “How do they feel?”

  I had a sudden urge to hug my mom, so I wrapped my arms around her neck.

  “Poor Eliza,” she said, patting my back. “Your mouth hurts a lot, huh?”

  It wasn’t my mouth that hurt, but the truth was stuck in my throat.

  “It’s okay,” Mom told me in a soothing voice. “Everything will be okay.”

  I nodded and let her hug me tighter.

  1. KEEP GIVING MOM THE SILENT TREATMENT UNTIL SHE NOTICES I’M NOT TALKING TO HER.

  KER-POW!

  Saturday was hot with a capital H.

  I got so desperate that I dragged out the sprinkler. After about twenty minutes, I got bored. My legs were all muddy and grassy, too. I did my best to rinse off with the hose and then laid my towel out on the driveway.

  I had a couple of hours till taekwondo class. It didn’t look like Tony and I would be opening a shop together after all, but I still wanted to take Sweet Caroline’s class. And that meant I had to finish taekwondo. Besides, there were only a few weeks left before the belt test.

  The concrete was burning, but I was seeing how much longer I could stand to lie on it when Dad pulled in.

  “You made a mud patch,” he said as he opened the trunk of Mom’s car. He didn’t sound happy. “And did you make sure to turn off the hose? Water costs money.”

  I sat up. “Sorry.”

  I helped Dad bring in the groceries. He’d bought store-brand chips. When I complained, he scowled. “I forgot my coupons.”

  At least Master Kim was in a better mood than Dad. There was excitement in his voice when told us he’d brought something new for us to try out during class: a shield.

  I wondered if we’d get cool rubber weapons to use, too. Turned out the shield wasn’t a metal shield like a knight would use to block a sword attack. It was just this thing that sort of looked like a hard rectangular pillow. Master Kim went around the classroom, holding the shield for each person to do a few back kicks. While we waited for our turn, we were supposed to practice.

  I managed to avoid being Madison’s partner and ended up with some boy who didn’t talk. He was taller than me and held the kicking paddle too high. I kept kicking the edge and sliding off or missing it altogether.

  I noticed a couple of my toes had chipped polish. That made me think of that first time I saw Madison, and only half of her toes were painted. I couldn’t help it. I peeked over at her. Madison was throwing perfect back kicks. Well, at least prettier than mine.

  “Eliza.”

  It was Master Kim. He was standing next to me, but I had no idea when he’d shown up.

  I swallowed. “Yes sir?”

  “You’re not following through.”

  “No sir,” I said. “I mean, okay sir.”

  “You seem a bit distracted today,” he said sternly. “Your training is suffering.”

  “Yes sir.”

  Master Kim lowered the shield and looked right at me. “A good martial artist does his or her best at all times.”

  “Yes sir,” I said with a quick bow.

  Master Kim stood sideways in front of me and held the shield against his side. “Now throw your kick,” he said. “Don’t think: Just do it. The Japanese call it mushin, or having no mind.”

  I didn’t understand how someone could not think, but I took a deep breath and tried kicking the shield. My foot went too low.

  “Again,” Master Kim told me calmly.

  I started my next kick too far away so my leg was almost straight when my heel landed. No power.

  “Again,” Master Kim said, still calm.

  I lost balance while pivoting on the next try and had to stop midkick to keep myself from wobbling over.

  Master Kim remained steady. “Again,” he said. “And kihap.”

  Again, again, again. It was driving me crazy. What did he want from me? I couldn’t think straight. And I couldn’t do the kick!

  I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t magically give Dad money. I couldn’t see Mom as much as I wanted. I couldn’t stop school from starting. Shoot. I couldn’t even get invited to my own friend’s birthday party!

  “Don’t think,” Master Kim said.

  I looked at him, and he gave me a nod.

  “Don’t think,” he said again. “Just kick.”

  I closed my eyes and concentrated on the hum of the lights and my breathing. In. Out. In. Out. Just kick.

  Okay. I thought, That’s something I can do.

  I opened my eyes, stepped back into my fighting stance, and stared at the shield. Then I pivoted, looked over my shoulder, pulled my leg in tight, and shot it straight back. I imagined all my power traveling through my hip, down my leg, and into my foot. At the same time, I yelled, “Hup!”

  My heel landed smack in the middle of the shield. And it landed hard. Whumph!

  Master Kim smiled. It wasn’t a big smile, but it was there. “Good,” he said.

  My chest was pounding and I couldn’t help grinning. Did I just do that?

  That felt so great. It was like I was superhero! Like I could do anything! Like I could break a board or jump over a car or kick a door down and save someone from a burning building.

  QUIZ TIME

  On Wednesday, Madison was sitting in the front seat of the car again so I climbed into the back. It felt strange being there alone. Kind of like I was in a taxi or something. I had to bite the inside of my cheek not to say, “To taekwondo. And step on it!”

  Cookie called me sweetheart and asked me how my week went. But then she took a sip from her coffee and said, “Great,” even though I hadn’t answered her yet.

  “Hey,” Madison said in my direction as way of a greeting. She went back to reading whatever was in her lap.

  I watched out the window and counted seven drivers talking on their cell phones before I got bored. I started wonder
ing what Madison was reading that was so interesting.

  I scootched over and gently tugged on my shoulder strap to get some wiggle room. Then I stretched my neck just a bit.

  Madison caught me looking. “Studying for my belt test,” she said as she held up her student handbook. “I’m going for my green belt next. If I pass, then I can move up to the intermediate class and go to the dojang that Master Kim’s dad owns.”

  Cookie let out a huge sigh. And I noticed Madison’s happy expression faded a bit.

  I felt bad for her. “I could quiz you if you want,” I blurted out.

  Madison passed the folder over the seat and gave me a half smile.

  I went through her test requirements a few times and quizzed her on old stuff as well. I couldn’t believe how many Korean words and definitions she had to know. Madison had to know four forms, too.

  “What are the five tenets of taekwondo?” I asked her.

  She began counting them off on her fingers. “Courtesy. Integrity. Perseverance. Self-control, and indomitable spirit.”

  I gave her a thumbs-up.

  Madison grinned.

  Cookie sighed loudly again.

  Madison’s grin fell. “That’s good. Thanks,” she told me and then twisted in her seat so she was facing forward.

  We were almost to the community center. I suddenly realized that I hadn’t given back the handbook. Cool beans! As quietly as I could, I flipped back to the page where my test requirements were listed:

  Break a board using push kick. All right. Got it.

  Counting to ten. Knew that one.

  Kicho il bo. I knew that, too.

  Wrist escape. Cripes. That needed work.

  And all those names of techniques and commands in Korean? Ahnjoe, koomahn, ap chagi, yursit—the list went on and on. I forgot what half of them meant. I tried not to panic.

  The definition of taekwondo. Yikes! I read as quickly as I could. “Taekwondo . . . Korean art . . . hand and foot—”