by Meg Cabot
‘Here,’ Scott Stamphley said, giving Joey his uncle’s hat back. He’d just emerged from the bakehouse water closet, where I totally hadn’t noticed he’d been all this time.
Joey took the hat and shoved it back on to his head.
‘That wasn’t funny you guys,’ he said. ‘Grrr. Ruff!’
Scott gave Stuart a super-mean look. I don’t know how he’d known Stuart had been the one to start it, since he hadn’t even been around when Stuart had done it.
‘Were you messing with my buddy?’ Scott asked Stuart.
Scott looked mad enough that, if I had been Stuart, I’d have lied.
But Stuart just laughed and said, ‘Oh, come on. We were just having some fun.’
Brittany laughed in a super-shrill way. ‘Totally. I mean, what do you expect, Scott? He goes to Pine Heights!’ ‘
What’s wrong with people who go to Pine Heights?’ Cheyenne wanted to know, her hand stilling as she twirled her parasol.
‘Well, no offence,’ Brittany said. She was still laughing a little. ‘But everyone knows Pine Heights is the worst school in the whole town. I mean, nobody with any brains would go there. If they could help it, anyway.’
She and everyone else who went to Walnut Knolls laughed. Except Scott.
I guess Scott must also follow President Washington’s Rule the Forty-ninth about not speaking injurious words – or using reproachful language – against others: Speak not Injurious Words neither in Jest nor Earnest.
‘Um,’ Cheyenne said, exchanging glances with M and D, ‘excuse me. But we go there. Are you suggesting we don’t have any brains?’
‘Well,’ Brittany said sympathetically, ‘you guys can’t help it that your families all live on the poor side of town.’
‘Excuse me?’ Cheyenne said.
I think it was probably the first time ever that I actually agreed with Cheyenne.
‘Well,’ Brittany said. But she didn’t look as sure of herself as before, ‘Pine Heights doesn’t exactly have the kind of resources and facilities my parents would want for me, or expect from an educational —’
‘Oh my gosh,’ Cheyenne interrupted. Her jaw had dropped. ‘I think you just said you’re better than I am.’
Brittany blinked a few times. ‘No. That’s not what I—’
‘They think they’re better than we are,’ Cheyenne said to M and D.
‘They totally do,’ M said.
‘No girl in a bonnet,’ D said, folding her arms across her chest, ‘is going to tell me I’m poor.’
I didn’t say anything out loud.
But again, I was amazed to find myself in complete agreement with Cheyenne, and even with her friends, Marianne and Dominique.
‘I didn’t mean you’re poor,’ Brittany said. She looked over at Mary Kay and Lauren and Paige for help. ‘I just meant your school is. Right, guys? I mean, everyone knows—’
Scott Stamphley was shaking his head at Brittany
‘You’ve really,’ he said in disgust, ‘done it now, Brit.’
‘Hey now,’ Master Baker Sean said, sounding nervous. ‘I think I hear Blacksmith Todd coming!’
‘I mean, it’s kind of true,’ Lauren said. ‘What Brittany said. Isn’t your cafeteria also the gym?’
Then Paige said. ‘And isn’t your gym also the auditorium? Where the stage is?’
This was all totally true. Walnut Knolls Elementary not only had a separate cafeteria, auditorium and gym, it had a boys gym and a girls gym, for when the kids there were doing gymnastics versus basketball.
Pine Heights had only one giant room for all that. So often, when you were having gym, you ended up doing a cartwheel on top of a squashed Tater Tot.
Basically, if you thought about it, Pine Heights was kind of the one-room schoolhouse of our town.
‘But that,’ I heard myself saying loudly, ‘doesn’t make Pine Heights a bad school.’
‘I didn’t say it was a bad school, Allie,’ Brittany snapped snottily. ‘Don’t put words in my mouth.’
‘Uh,’ Scott Stamphley said, ‘actually, Brittany, your exact words were that it’s the worst school in the whole town.’
‘And that’s not even true,’ Cheyenne said, thrusting out her chin. ‘Because how many kids from your school went on to the regionals in the district spelling bee, if it’s so great? Because Lenny here almost did, and another classmate, Caroline Wu, actually did.’
Cheyenne had a point. I couldn’t believe I’d forgotten about that.
‘Um,’ Brittany said, her mouth opening and closing rapidly, ‘well . . .’
‘Well, hello there, young ‘uns,’ called a large man in a leather apron as he strode up to us. Team Illini was trailing along behind him, looking excited, probably because they knew they were about to get lunch. I saw Rosemary and Sophie. They smiled at me and waved, not having any idea they were about to walk into a giant fight. ‘Who is ready to see some horses?’
‘What,’ Rosemary asked, coming to stand next to where I was sitting at my picnic table, ‘is going on over here? Why does everyone look so mad?’
‘Oh,’ I said, ‘no reason. Those Walnut Knolls kids just think our school is old and falling down and that we’re all poor. That’s all.’
Rosemary sucked in her breath and glanced at Brittany.
‘What did you say about our school?’ she demanded.
It was amazing what a mere look from Rosemary could do.
‘It was all just a misunderstanding,’ Brittany stammered.
‘I’ll tell you something about Walnut Knolls!’ Rosemary roared. ‘It’s—’
It was at that exact moment that Mary Kay, sitting next to me, jumped up and let out a scream loud enough to wake the ghost of every settler who had ever lived at Honeypot Prairie.
Rule #18
Show Nothing to Your Friend That May Affright Him
‘You guys!’ cried Mary Kay. She turned wide and frightened eyes towards Brittany and her friends. ‘Something . . . something . . . OW!’
Mary Kay wasn’t exaggerating, for once. Something had very definitely done something to her. Her face was as pink as the gingham on her dress, and tears were streaming down her face.
That wasn’t particularly unusual for Mary Kay, since she cried all the time . . . or at least she’d used to, back when I’d been best friends with her.
But she was also hopping up and down. And waving her hands in front of her face. And going, ‘Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!’
That wasn’t the kind of thing she’d used to do, back in the old days.
Not unless she was really hurt.
And the fight that I knew was coming between our two schools – Pine Heights and Walnut Knolls – hadn’t even started yet. No one had laid a finger on her.
So what was the matter with her?
Maybe she was just getting the crying and screaming over with in advance?
This was exactly the sort of thing Mary Kay would do. Although she and her friends liked to call me immature, the truth was, they were the ones who were kind of big babies.
Then I looked down to where Mary Kay had been sitting next to me a few seconds before.
And I knew exactly what was going on.
‘Oh my gosh,’ I said, leaping up from my seat. ‘Mary Kay, let me see your face.’
But Mary Kay wouldn’t hold still, because she was still jumping up and down and waving her hands so much. Finally, I grabbed her by both shoulders and forced her to stand still so I could get a good look at her.
And there it was.
‘Mary Kay,’ I said, trying to appear calm. Because the rule is: Appear calm in the face of a medical emergency. ‘You’re going to be all right. But . . . a bee stung your face.’
‘What?’
Mary Kay wasn’t the only one who screamed when I said that. Brittany and everyone else – who saw the same thing I did at the same time I did – screamed too.
Screamed and ran away.
Because they could all see the stinger the bee ha
d left behind, sticking out of the middle of Mary Kay’s chin.
Mary Kay started to reach up to her face.
‘No,’ Sophie cried. She was the only one besides me and the boys (including Master Baker Sean and Blacksmith Todd) who hadn’t run away. ‘Don’t touch it! You’ll just make it worse. We need to get it out right away, before the venom has a chance to spread.’
Sometimes, I thought, Sophie could be a little too graphic.
Because this just made Mary Kay shriek even louder. So loud I thought my eardrums would split in two.
‘It’s still in there?’ Mary Kay wailed, flailing her hands around. ‘You guys!’ She flung a desperate look over at Brittany and Lauren and Paige and those guys. ‘Help me! Get it out, get it out, get it out . . .’
But Mary Kay’s friends from Walnut Knolls wanted nothing to do with her and her gross bee-sting with the venom sac still attached. They looked totally freaked out and scared. I was the one who had to swat Mary Kay’s hands away to keep her from knocking the stinger in even deeper.
And Mary Kay and I hadn’t even been speaking for like a year practically.
‘Also,’ Sophie said, turning to Master Baker Sean and Blacksmith Todd, ‘you need to get everyone else out of here. When a bee stings someone, it releases a scent to let the rest of the hive know there’s danger, and then they’ll come to sting anyone else they think might be a threat – ’
This caused even more screaming. People were running around like ants from an anthill someone had stomped on.
Especially, I’m sorry to have to say, Mary Kay’s friends.
Seeing this, Mary Kay wailed even louder.
‘OK, Team Illini.’ Master Baker Sean started yelling and waving his arms. ‘Inside the bakehouse! Now!’
‘Team Shawnee!’ Blacksmith Todd cupped his hands over his mouth and called. ‘Follow me to the stables!’
Because Honeypot Prairie is called Honeypot Prairie for a reason.
There are a lot of beehives on it.
This, I thought to myself, is a disaster.
Then, as if she’d heard my thoughts, Mrs Hunter appeared at my side.
‘Don’t worry,’ she said soothingly to Mary Kay. ‘Everything is going to be fine.’
Mrs Hunter had taken a credit card from her wallet. Now she scraped it across Mary Kay’s chin – before Mary Kay even knew what was happening and could scream for her to stop – removing the stinger and venom sac in one fell swoop.
‘There,’ Mrs Hunter said. ‘All better.’
Mary Kay was super surprised for a second . . . then she just cried harder. I think it was a combination of the pain and the shock and knowing all her friends had deserted her in her time of need.
‘Oh, sweetheart,’ Mrs Hunter said, giving her a hug. ‘I know it hurts. But it’s going to be better now, uh . . .’
‘. . . Mary Kay’ I said, since it was clear Mrs Hunter was waiting for Mary Kay to tell her her name.
And it was also clear Mary Kay was never going to do so, because she was crying too hard with pain and from being scared.
‘Right,’ Mrs Hunter said. ‘Mary Kay, have you ever been stung by a bee before? Are you allergic?’
‘She’s not allergic,’ I said. Because Mary Kay was still crying too much to answer any questions. I mean, she stepped on a bee at the pool last summer, and she wasn’t allergic then.’
This just made Mary Kay cry even louder, remembering how ‘mean’ the lifeguard had been (in her opinion) for not carrying her to the infirmary afterwards. She’d made her limp there.
‘Well,’ Mrs Hunter said, ‘that’s good. But I think we should call your parents anyway. They might think it’s a good idea for you to see a doctor—’
‘There’s a first-aid kit in the administrative office,’ said Blacksmith Todd, not talking in an old-timey way any more. He’d shepherded most of Team Shawnee far enough away from the picnic tables that a bee attack didn’t look like it would be a problem. ‘With EpiPens in children’s doses.’
‘Do you think someone could run and find Ms Myers,’ Mrs Hunter said, ‘while I take Mary Kay to the office? I think she’s with Mistress Carol at the wigwams.’
‘I’ll do it,’ Scott Stamphley said, raising his hand. What was he still doing here? He was the only other kid who had stuck around (besides me and Sophie) when Sophie had said what she had about the hive attacking. How come he was always popping up when I least expected it?
‘Thank you,’ Mrs Hunter said to Scott. To Mary Kay, she said, ‘Come on, honey. Why don’t we go to the office and call your parents and put some ice on that sting? It looks like it’s swelling.’
‘I don’t want t-to g-go alone,’ Mary Kay sobbed. ‘C-can’t one of my friends come with me?’
I looked at Mrs Hunter, who looked back down at me. I could read what Mrs Hunter’s look said, even though she hadn’t said anything out loud. It said, ‘Uh-oh.’
Because everyone else had left the picnic area. Scott had run off to find Ms Myers over by the wigwams. Team Shawnee had followed Blacksmith Todd to the stables to see how horses got shod. And Team Illini had disappeared inside the bakehouse.
It was just me and Mrs Hunter and Mary Kay.
I guess Mary Kay’s great friends at Walnut Knolls, the ones she’d chosen instead of me when she’d found out I was moving and that I kept a book of rules and all, weren’t so great after all.
They had all run off and deserted her just because there was a (remote) chance they might get stung by a bee if they stuck around!
‘It’s all right, Mary Kay,’ I said, reaching out to take her hand. ‘I’ll go with you.’
‘No,’ Mary Kay said. She wouldn’t budge. She just kept crying. ‘Not you.’
This wasn’t exactly a surprise. Even if it did hurt my feelings a little. I mean, I had never been anything but nice to Mary Kay. In my opinion anyway.
I reminded myself that she’d just been stung by a bee – in the face – and probably wasn’t thinking rationally.
‘But I’m your buddy for the day,’ I reminded her. ‘Remember? So I have to come with you. Besides, it’ll be fun. An adventure, just like everything else we’ve done today. We’ll get to see what the inside of an office of an interactive history park looks like!’
Even though her chin must have hurt a lot from being stung by a bee, and she was crying and mad at all her friends for ditching her, Mary Kay couldn’t help cracking a little smile at that.
‘You’re such a d-dork, Allie,’ she said, through her tears.
‘Yeah,’ I said, tugging on her hand, ‘I know. I like dorky stuff. Like rules. But you like dorky stuff too, Mary Kay. Or at least you used to. Like Barbie.’
‘Do you like Barbie, Mary Kay?’ Mrs Hunter asked lightly.
To my relief, Mary Kay finally started to move. I guess she realized she didn’t have much of a choice. Mrs Hunter led us towards where Master Baker Sean had pointed, a white building over where the school bus was parked.
‘I used to,’ Mary Kay said. She wasn’t crying quite so hard now. ‘A long time ago. Like in the third grade.’ She shot me an annoyed look. ‘You’re not still going on about that, are you, Allie? That’s so immature.’
Mary Kay sounded exactly like a mini Brittany.
You would have thought some of Brittany’s glamour might have worn off since she’d ditched Mary Kay in her hour of need.
Oh, and started a war between our two schools.
Mrs Hunter opened the door to the Honeypot Prairie administrative office for us, and a rush of cool air conditioning met us, along with a lady who wasn’t dressed in old-timey clothes. ‘Oh, hello,’ she said with a smile. ‘Can I help you?’
Mrs Hunter explained why we were there, and the lady, whose name was Miss Brown, led Mary Kay to a back room where she could lie down with a cool cloth over her head. Miss Brown gave her some ice to press to her chin, and got out the first-aid kit with the EpiPens, just in case.
Then, while Mrs Hunter called Mary Kay’s
mom – who asked to speak to Mary Kay, of course – I sat down and tried not to eavesdrop (because Eavesdropping is wrong. That’s a rule) on Mary Kay and her mom’s conversation.
‘But why won’t you come pick me up?’ I could hear Mary Kay asking her mom from the back room. ‘No, the bee-sting’s not that bad. I just want to come home. You don’t understand. Brittany and those guys are being really mean again . . .’
Again? So Brittany and Lauren and Paige had been mean to Mary Kay before? I wasn’t the only one they were mean to? This was interesting to know.
‘Thank you, Allie,’ Mrs Hunter said quietly to me, coming to sit in the chair beside mine. I acted like I hadn’t been eavesdropping (even though of course I had been), sitting up straight in my chair and resting my chin in my hand. ‘For being so kind to Mary Kay. I didn’t know when I assigned you to be buddies for the day that the two of you had a . . . past. I’m sorry if that caused you any sort of discomfort.’
‘Oh,’ I said. I could feel myself blushing. Mary Kay and I had a past all right.
A pretty bad one.
Especially when it came to field trips.
‘That’s OK,’ I said.
The funny thing was, I wasn’t lying or acting when I said that. I really meant it. It was OK. Coming on this field trip to Honeypot Prairie – even weird and sort of not fun as it had been – had finally made me feel like I was ready to move on from all my past bad-field-trip luck.
As I thought about this, I tried not to notice the way Mrs Hunter’s new engagement ring was catching the afternoon sunlight that was pouring through the office’s plate-glass windows.
‘What you did for her was very brave,’ Mrs Hunter went on. ‘She’s lucky to have you as a friend.’
Ha! I was pretty sure Mary Kay wouldn’t agree with that.
‘And thank you too,’ Mrs Hunter said, ‘for what you did for Joey. Though sometimes I worry he’s never going to learn to stand up for himself if we don’t let him fight his own battles from time to time.’
This came as a surprise! I couldn’t believe Mrs Hunter, who’d assigned me to the back row of Room 209 to be a positive influence, was basically telling me I should have gone walkabout on Joey . . .
