Odd Girl In

by Jo Whittemore

  Dad saw me making the crawl back to the covers and grabbed my arm. “No you don’t. Time to get up. And Nick, ‘evacuate’ is a nicer way of saying ‘use the restroom.’”

  Nick squinted for a moment, and then his eyes widened. “Ohhh. Like evacuating your body of … I only get three minutes for that?!”

  “Well, yes. It’s not supposed to be a leisure activity,” said Dad.

  “I think I have someone else’s schedule,” said Parker, rubbing his eyes as he stumbled toward us. “Mine says, ‘Seven twenty … Apply makeup.’”

  Nick and I looked at our schedules.

  “Mine says ‘Groom facial hair,’” said Nick.

  I frowned. “So does mine.”

  Parker leaned close to study me. “I was wondering when someone was going to mention your mustache.”

  “Shut up!” I covered my upper lip and pushed him with my free hand.

  Dad took both our schedules, glanced at them, and swapped them. “Sorry about that. Now, everyone get moving. It’s”—he glanced at his watch—“seven ten and none of you have even gone to the bathroom yet!”

  “Evacuated,” Nick corrected Dad.

  Dad fixed him with a stare.

  “And I’m gone,” said Nick, hurrying away.

  “Alex, use my bathroom,” said Dad. “Parker, the guest bathroom.” Dad headed for the stairs. “Everyone needs to be dressed and at the breakfast table in twenty minutes.”

  “For a guy who sometimes stirs his coffee with a pen, Dad’s irritatingly together this morning,” grumbled Parker.

  I smiled but didn’t answer. Now that I was waking up, I kind of liked the extra attention from Dad. And the fact that his suspenders were actually holding up pants this time, and not pajamas, was a good sign.

  Since I never took long in the shower and I didn’t wear makeup, I whipped in and out of the bathroom, threw on some jeans and a T-shirt, and headed downstairs.

  Dad applauded when he saw me. “First one for breakfast, with five minutes to spare!”

  I bowed at the waist. “Nick’s right behind me, but I think Parker’s still in the shower. He probably won’t be down until after you leave for work.”

  Most mornings Dad waited until he saw us downstairs at breakfast before he left the house. The occasional exceptions were for Parker’s epic hair battles or when Nick forgot his homework and bribed Parker to do it. Yesterday had been different because of our Champs surveys, but I expected Dad wouldn’t make that a habit.

  “I’m sure your brother will be down very soon,” said Dad, flipping through the paper. “Mainly because I turned off the water heater.”

  A moment later, we could hear Parker shrieking. I smirked at Dad, who hid a smile behind a sip of coffee.

  Nick strolled into the kitchen, wincing. “Parker can really hit those high notes. You turned off the hot water?”

  “I did,” said Dad.

  Nick shook his head. “You know that’s not going to speed up his styling process. He’ll probably move even slower just to make you mad.”

  Dad looked unconcerned. “Parker loves school too much to miss it.”

  And he was right. Fifteen minutes later, when Nick and I were finishing breakfast, Parker stomped downstairs, fluffy hair and all.

  “That … was cruel,” he growled at Dad, before continuing his march of gloom to the refrigerator.

  “But you had plenty of time to do your hair,” I pointed out.

  Parker wheeled around to glare at me. “What are you talking about? My hair is a nightmare!”

  I wrinkled my forehead. “It looks the same as always.”

  “Uh, nooo. It’s an inch shorter because I didn’t have time to volumize!”

  Everyone at the table watched him quietly. After a pause, Nick and I glanced at each other.

  Then we burst out laughing.

  “It’s not funny!” roared Parker.

  “Dude, please,” Nick sputtered. “Tell me you don’t measure your hair every day.”

  “It’s no weirder than you hitting on girls,” said Parker, his face reddening. “Or Alex keeping pennies that she finds on the ground. Even the ones in public restrooms!”

  “Yeah.” Nick turned on me. “That’s gross!”

  “They’re good luck!” I argued.

  “Not if you get E. coli and die.”

  “All right, that’s enough,” said Dad. “You’re each very special and I don’t want you to stop being who you are.” He cleared his throat. “Although, Alex, you should probably let the housekeeper sanitize those pennies.”

  “Fine,” I said, carrying my dishes to the sink.

  Emily’s head popped up in the window just as I reached it.

  “Augh!” I screamed, almost dropping my plate.

  “Everything okay?” called Dad.

  “Yeah.” I pressed my hand to my heart. “Nothing serious.” I glared at Emily and opened the kitchen window. “I have easy access to several sharp knives. Speak.”

  “I need your help,” she said. “Can you meet me outside when you’re ready? Please?”

  I knew Emily’s stubborn nature meant she wouldn’t leave until she’d had her say. At least this time I wasn’t in a bathroom stall.

  “Fine,” I said with a sigh.

  “And you might want to trim back these bushes,” she said. “I almost couldn’t make it to the window.”

  I fixed her with a stare.

  “I’ll just be on the porch,” she said quickly, and hurried away.

  Back at the table, Dad was packing up for work.

  “Who was that?” he asked.

  “Emily,” I said. “She wanted to talk before school.”

  “Sure she did,” said Parker with a snort. “I’ll bet Ms. Success sent her to spy on us.”

  Nick checked out the window. “I wondered what that surveillance van was doing across the street.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Whatever.”

  “It’d be less obvious without the Champs star on the side.”

  “Shut up!” I said, laughing now.

  “All right, everyone, I’ve got a meeting in …” Dad checked his watch and winced. “Half an hour ago. So be good at school.” He pointed at Parker. “Pay attention in class.” He pointed at Nick. “And get some extracurriculars.” He kissed me on the forehead. “I’ll see all of you tonight.”

  And with that he was gone.

  The second the door clicked behind Dad, Parker jumped out of his chair. “I need to brush my teeth!” he blurted, and dashed upstairs.

  Nick looked at me. “Do you think he’s volumizing?”

  I nodded. “Yep.”

  “Do you think I should stop him?”

  “If you’re tired of living, sure.” I got up from the table. “I have to meet Emily. Good luck.”

  “Yeah, you too,” said Nick, grabbing a pot lid and holding it in front of him like a shield. Before the Battle of the Evins could begin, I grabbed my backpack and stepped out to join Emily.

  “All right, what’s the drama?” I asked.

  Instantly, she turned pink. “There’s this boy.”

  I cringed. Emily was going to talk about her love life. I was neither prepared nor interested in having this conversation.

  “Look, I don’t have a boyfriend,” I told her. “I’m not the best person to offer romantic advice.”

  “I don’t have a boyfriend either,” she said. “Not yet. That’s why I need your help.”

  “Why?” I leaned in. “Are you in love with one of my brothers?”

  Emily’s face twisted into a grimace. “Ew! No.”

  “Ahem.” I pulled back and crossed my arms. “That’s my family you’re talking about. You could do a lot worse.”

  “Sorry,” she said.

  “I mean, we’ve got naturally great teeth.” I flashed my whites at her. “And we don’t look it, but we’ve got excellent knees.”

  “Fine,” she said, stepping off the porch. “Can we get back to me?”

  “Right
.” I followed her out to the sidewalk. “So you like some guy.”

  “Trevor,” she whispered. “The one from the picture in my stepmom’s office. He’s in your Champs class.”

  I lowered my voice too. “Why are you being so secretive?”

  “Other girls from school take this path,” said Emily. “And if they heard me talk about how amazing Trevor is, they’d hunt him down and—”

  “Kill him?” I asked, widening my eyes in mock fear.

  Emily gave me a withering look. “Try to steal him away. But I have a genuine interest in Trevor. I’m the best girl for him.”

  “Well, good.” I clapped her on the back. “The world needs more decent, modest people like you.”

  She ignored my sarcasm. “The thing is, I don’t want him to meet you and fall in love with you.”

  I stopped and stared at Emily. “Wow. Where did that come from?”

  To answer, she reached into her backpack and pulled out a spiral notebook. The front cover was smattered with glitter hearts surrounding the letters PT.

  “Um, what is that?” I asked.

  “Project Trevor,” she said in a no-nonsense voice. “It’s everything I know about him. And so far you two seem highly compatible.”

  I took the notebook from her and flipped through several ink-filled pages, some of which included magazine clippings about stuff I assumed Trevor was into.

  I gave her a concerned look. “You don’t, uh, have a shrine to him too, do you?”

  Emily snatched back her notebook. “Don’t be stupid. I just think it’s important to know everything you can about someone before you attempt to establish a relationship.”

  I started to nod, then paused. “Wait … do you have one of those notebooks on me?”

  “No,” Emily sniffed. “Everything of interest about you fits on an index card.”

  “Nice,” I said wryly. “And you don’t have to worry about me stealing him away. Since you like him, I’ll consider him off-limits.”

  Emily nodded and started walking again, but she didn’t look particularly relieved.

  Against my better judgment, I asked, “Is there something else?”

  Emily kicked a rock out of her path and let out a huge sigh. “Even if you leave him alone, it won’t matter. I don’t think he notices me as more than a teacher’s aide.”

  “Maybe you’re not doing anything to draw his attention,” I said, nodding toward the notebook. “You have plenty of information on Trevor, some of which I’m sure the government doesn’t even know. Pick something you have in common and talk about it.”

  “That’s just it!” Emily waved her notebook in exasperation. “We have nothing in common, other than how extremely clever and cute we both are.” She flipped to a dog-eared page and jabbed at it. “He likes Cheetos dipped in chocolate pudding. I tried that and I almost threw up!”

  “Probably because it’s gross,” I said.

  “He also likes to watch science-fiction movies, so I tried Star Wars,” said Emily. “Explain to me how a rebel space pilot and his ten-foot dog can afford fuel for their starship when they’re always running from creditors!”

  I smiled. “I think you’re missing the point of the movie.”

  Emily smacked herself in the forehead with her notebook. “My stepmom’s right. The best guys are the ones in comas.”

  I took the notebook back from her. “Look. Start with something simple.” I scanned a page. “He likes the Ankle Biters. You have to like them. They’re a great band.”

  “Their lead singer sounds like he’s being tortured with a weed whacker,” she said. “Plus, you can’t understand the lyrics. Even if you play the CD backward.”

  “That’s the beauty!” I said. “You can interpret their music any way you want.”

  “I already do,” said Emily. “As garbage.”

  I sighed. “You have to give a little somewhere. If you don’t like the same things as Trevor, at least ask him why he likes them. It’ll help you understand him better.”

  Emily gripped my arms and smiled. “That’s clever. I can dissect his personality and see the different layers.”

  “Exactly! Just don’t tell him you plan to dissect him,” I said, handing back the notebook. “That tends to freak people out.”

  She laughed. “Thanks, Alexis. And if you wouldn’t mind …” Emily bowed her head.

  “This conversation never happened,” I said. “Not that anybody would ever believe that I’d given love advice.”

  “Good.” Now the usual bounce returned to both Emily’s step and ponytail. “Hey, so you looked kind of sick when you left my stepmom’s office yesterday. Are you okay?”

  I shrugged. “Aside from the night terrors and vomiting? Yes.”

  “Alexis!”

  “I’m kidding. But are the classes always so intense?” Emily squinted thoughtfully. “If by intense, you mean fabulous and awesome—”

  “I don’t.”

  She acted as if she didn’t hear me. “Then yes. Tonight’s will be just as intense. My stepmom is very passionate about what she does.”

  I nodded. “Like a cult leader.”

  Emily frowned. “That’s not funny.”

  “Sorry,” I said.

  We reached the school and I hesitated at the entrance. To sign up for clubs, I’d have to visit the counselor’s office. Ms. Dorf had been waiting there to talk family issues since I’d started junior high.

  “Hey!” I said brightly to Emily. “You know what would be fun? Going to the counselor’s office together.”

  Ms. Dorf couldn’t possibly expect me to discuss personal issues in front of someone else. I linked my arm through Emily’s the way I’d seen girls do with friends.

  “Um, okay,” she said. “But why?”

  “I’m joining some clubs. You know, to work on my ‘social skills.’” I put the words in air quotes.

  Oddly enough, that seemed genuinely exciting to her. Emily beamed and jerked me into a fast walk. “Which clubs?”

  I shrugged. “Whichever ones meet today.”

  She slowed a little to look at me. “You’re joking.”

  “If I had a choice, I wouldn’t be doing this at all,” I said. “But apparently going to Chloe’s party isn’t enough of a social effort. Not even if I braid everyone’s hair.”

  “You’re going to the slumber party?” Emily clutched my arm, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

  I was kind of afraid to say yes in case she dismembered me in her excitement, but when I didn’t respond, she almost pulled my arm out of its socket anyway.

  “Are you?” she asked.

  “Ow! Yes!”

  Emily squealed and threw her arms around me. “We’re going to have so much fun at Chloe’s!”

  I patted her shoulder. “If she has firecrackers and an old toilet, we’ll certainly try.”

  Emily freed herself and knocked on the door to the counselor’s office.

  Ms. Dorf poked her head out. “Hello, Emily!” She turned to me with confusion. “And Alexis. What a nice surprise! Are you here to …” She paused. “What can I do for you?”

  “I’m not here to talk about my mom, first of all,” I said. “She’s not a part of my life anymore.”

  Ms. Dorf smiled gently. “Oh, I think your mom’s a bigger part of your life than you realize.”

  I shook my head. “Whatever. I’m here for extracurriculars. Can you help me?”

  “Of course.” Ms. Dorf pulled the door open.

  While Emily and I sat, Ms. Dorf grabbed a list of school clubs off her desk. “I have to say, I’m pleased to finally see you taking an interest in social activities, Alexis. What are you considering?”

  “How about …” I closed my eyes and stabbed randomly at the paper. When I pulled back my finger to reveal my selection, I said, “French club.”

  Ms. Dorf looked slightly less pleased. “I really hope you don’t make all of your decisions that way.”

  “No, usually there’s a
dartboard involved,” I said.

  Emily kicked me and forced herself to laugh. “She’s just fooling around, Ms. Dorf. Alexis was telling me she’s actually interested in …” Emily’s eyes skipped down the page, then back up to Ms. Dorf. “In robotics club.”

  “Right,” I said. “And the … hockey boosters.”

  Emily curled her lip. “Really?”

  I shrugged. “Violence on ice. What’s not to love?”

  Ms. Dorf leaned toward me. “Alexis, I know I haven’t seen you much, but I don’t think those clubs are right for you. Are you sure there’s nothing else you’d rather try?”

  When she saw me close my eyes and point my finger again, she stopped me. “All right. Robotics club meets after school, but hockey boosters meet during study hall, so I’ll have to give you a pass for that.”

  “Great!” I said. “I bet I’ll love it.”

  Chapter 5

  It was a good thing I didn’t actually put money on that bet. When I got to the hockey boosters meeting, the room was filled with giggling girls, loud pop music, and the stench of wet paint.

  There was no ice, no violence. There weren’t even any missing teeth strewn about.

  “Um, hello?” I called.

  The girls glanced up, but only one of them actually came over.

  Chloe Stroupe.

  “Hey, Alex! Are you looking for someone?” she asked.

  “Actually, I’m here to join the boosters,” I said, thrusting a piece of paper at her. “Will you sign this as proof I came?”

  Chloe didn’t move. “You’re joining the boosters?”

  “Sure.” I shrugged. “I like hockey and I figured it’d be nice to meet some other, uh, fans.” I wondered if that was even the right word. Several of the girls were now singing into the hockey sticks like microphones, my slumber party nightmare come true.

  Chloe crossed her arms and smirked. “And this wouldn’t have anything to do with Champs?”

  I sighed and pulled back my paper. “Emily got to you first, huh?”

  Chloe laughed. “She didn’t tell me. I get the Champs newsletter.”

  My eyebrows rose a little. The newsletter wasn’t a surprise. I wouldn’t have put it past Ms. Success to write her announcements in nightly fireworks. But the fact that anyone at school besides Emily would ever go to that class….