The Pants Project

by Cat Clarke

  “I mean, even the mutant has miraculously found at least a couple of people to have lunch with.”

  Jade must have clocked me standing behind her. Why be mean to one person when you can be mean to two at the same time? I said nothing and stared at my empty tray. I didn’t hear Maisie laugh, but that didn’t mean that she hadn’t.

  I thought Jade was going to leave it there, but a couple of minutes later she said, “Seriously, though, Meltzer, I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so pathetic in my entire life. How does it feel to be even less popular than the mutant?”

  Marion still didn’t turn around. A lunch server handed her a plate with three tacos on it and she walked away.

  Jade wasn’t happy about that because she likes to get a reaction, which is probably why she turned around to look at me.

  “Can I help you, freak?”

  I turned to face the lunch server. “Beef, please.”

  “Hey! I’m talking to you.”

  “How are you today?” I asked the lunch server. She was my favorite. She always gave me extra.

  I could feel Jade’s icy stare as I chatted with the lunch server. After thirty seconds or so, she walked away.

  Who knew that ignoring someone could feel so good?

  After I got my fruit and water, I headed toward the table where Jacob and the boys were sitting, but then I stopped and turned around.

  Marion was sitting alone at the table in the corner. Jade, Chelsea, and Maisie were on their way to the popular table. That was just the way things were, and the way things would stay. Unless…

  I veered away from the boys’ table and walked past Jade’s chair. I may or may not have ever so slightly nudged her with my elbow as I passed. She may or may not have spilled her soda as a result. (OK, I did, and she did.)

  I walked straight over to Marion and sat down opposite her.

  She didn’t look up. I watched as she tore off tiny pieces of tortilla and put them in her mouth. It didn’t seem to be a particularly efficient way to eat a soft taco. In fact, there was something mouse-like about it, but I wasn’t about to say that.

  “Do you think they have tacos on Mondays to try to make Mondays less terrible?” It was the first thing that popped into my head. I took a huge bite of my taco. I like to finish a taco in three bites, if possible.

  “Excuse me?” She looked up.

  I did that weird hand gesture that you do when your mouth is full and you want to say something—a lame sort of half wave.

  I repeated myself when I’d finally swallowed my mammoth mouthful.

  Marion shrugged. “I hate tacos.”

  “Okaaay.”

  “Why are you sitting here anyway?” There was a challenge in her voice and a hardness in her eyes that I’d never seen before today.

  “Felt like a change of scene.” She wasn’t impressed by that answer, so I tried another. “Jade is stupid. You should ignore her.”

  “I do. Maybe you should listen to your own advice.”

  Ouch. I didn’t know what to say, so I focused on eating.

  “If you’re doing this for Jade’s benefit, I’d really rather you didn’t.” I looked over to see Jade turned around in her chair, watching us.

  “I wouldn’t do anything for that girl’s benefit if we were in the middle of a zombie apocalypse and she was the last non-zombified person within a hundred miles. I’d probably let myself become a zombie just to so I could go after her.” I thought some more. “Although the thought of eating Jade’s brain is kind of disgusting.”

  Marion stared at me. Maybe she wasn’t used to talking about zombies. Maybe she just wasn’t used to talking. But then a small smile appeared on her face. “I don’t think her brain would have much nutritional value.”

  I laughed. A lot. Then Marion laughed too. I glanced over at Jade again, which set me off laughing again. Jade was glaring at us, but we just kept laughing and laughing. It didn’t help matters that Marion’s laugh itself was hilarious. There was a sort of snort right in the middle that totally cracked me up.

  Marion told me she has a backpack under her bed, packed and ready just in case the zombie apocalypse actually happens.

  I shook my head, smiling. “I had no idea you were into zombies.”

  “Why would you? You’ve barely said two words to me before now.”

  I looked down at my food. Suddenly my appetite for tacos—or anything for that matter—had disappeared. I felt ashamed. I’d been so busy feeling sorry for myself for having to wear a skirt and for being bullied, that I’d completely ignored the fact that maybe other people weren’t having the best time either. I’d actually been glad that Jade occasionally gave me a break to target Marion instead. How despicable was that? I never thought I was that kind of person. It definitely wasn’t the person I wanted to be.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “Being like the others.” It felt like the right answer. The true answer.

  Marion smiled, which had to be a good sign. “How’s that petition of yours going anyway?”

  “Yeah, it’s…not going so well, actually.”

  Marion raised her eyebrows. I could tell she was just dying to say something about the fact that I’d refused her help, but she was nice enough to keep her mouth shut.

  Before I could answer, a figure loomed over us. “What’s up?” Jacob sat down next to Marion, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

  “Not much,” said Marion, “I was just asking Liv about the pants petition.” She didn’t seem to think it was weird for Jacob to join us like that. And she didn’t seem in the least bit shy about talking to him, which was another surprise.

  I made a decision right then—one I should have made back when Marion asked me if I wanted help in the first place. It was cool that the boys were helping with the final part of the Pants Project, but wouldn’t it be even better to add a girl into the mix? So I told Marion the plan and asked if she was interested in helping out. Her eyes lit up and she nodded slowly.

  “I like it. A lot.”

  Jacob and I high-fived each other, then Marion.

  “So when are we doing it?” And just like that, she was in.

  Chapter 27

  It was a good thing that I did get Marion involved. Jacob and I were debating the merits of various days to launch the plan. He thought a Friday would be best, whereas I was leaning toward a Monday, but Marion said we were both wrong. She said we should do it the day before Back-to-School Night.

  “But that’s in two days!” I said.

  “So?”

  “I need to…we need to…I don’t know…”

  “If we do it before Back-to-School Night, then parents can put more pressure on the teachers when they come to the school. I know my mom thinks the uniform policy is ridiculous, and I bet your moms do too.” I didn’t mention that my moms wouldn’t even be at Back-to-School Night. “The key is making sure that word gets around. You need momentum.”

  It made sense. If pressure came from parents as well as students, surely Mr. Lynch wouldn’t have a choice? We needed to make this thing a big deal—something he couldn’t possibly ignore.

  That’s when it came to me. “Got it!” I thumped my fist on the table, which made Marion and Jacob jump.

  “Got what?” Jacob asked.

  I smiled secretively. “What’s your dad up to on Wednesday?”

  Jacob looked baffled. “What’s my dad got to do with anything?”

  I waited.

  “Oh,” said Jacob eventually. “I get it. You are some kind of evil genius. I knew it!”

  “But I use my genius as a force for good!” I laughed.

  “Thank goodness for that. Just make sure you don’t fall into a vat of radioactive goop, OK? The last thing the world needs is a supervillain like you.”

&
nbsp; The three of us spent the rest of lunchtime trying to decide which superpowers were the coolest. (Flying, invisibility, and mind reading, obviously.)

  =

  I had no idea how the moms were going to react when I told them about the plan, but I was going to do it anyway. I felt bad enough for lying to them about Back-to-School Night—I didn’t need to add to the guilt. Besides, I’d already blown my month’s allowance on comic books, so I was going to need to borrow some cash.

  Gram came over for dinner, but I knew better than to mention it when she was there. She wouldn’t understand, and I couldn’t risk her persuading the moms that the Pants Project was a waste of time.

  Dinner seemed to pass in slow motion. I swear Enzo chewed each mouthful of food twenty times before swallowing, and everyone talked too much instead of getting on with the business of eating. I finished my food in five minutes flat, and spent the next fifteen minutes hiccupping.

  It was late by the time Gram went home. She’d spent ages talking to Mamma about Mamma’s sick father. Gram kept trying to persuade Mamma to fly out to Italy before it was too late. Mamma nodded and listened, but I could tell she was just trying to be polite. She’d made up her mind, and nothing anyone said was going to change it.

  Then Gram insisted on helping Enzo with his math homework, which was entirely unnecessary. Enzo is better at math than I am. It was as if she knew I was desperate for her to leave.

  When Gram finally did leave, I took the casual approach to telling the moms. I just came out with it when we were cleaning up the kitchen, like it was no big deal. Mom laughed out loud. “I love it!”

  Mamma took a little more convincing. Luckily (and surprisingly), Mom did all of the convincing while I just stood there. Mom was talking about equality and fighting for what you believe in, and she said she was proud of me and that she was 100 percent behind me. She was doing such a good job that I decided it was best to keep my mouth shut, just in case I ruined things.

  “OK, OK! I get it! I’m proud of Liv too—you know I am, right?” Mamma turned to me and I nodded. “I just worry about you getting in trouble at Bankridge…after what happened in elementary school.” She was talking about The Incident.

  I was about to say that this was hardly the same as me punching someone, when Mom said, “This is hardly the same! Come on, you know how important this is to Liv. And we’re still planning on talking to the principal about it, aren’t we? After…” Mom winced. We all knew what she’d been about to say, but talking about Mamma’s father dying wasn’t exactly the best way to win this argument. Mom narrowed her eyes at Mamma. “Anyway, you weren’t exactly an angel at school, were you?”

  I really, really wanted to know what Mom was talking about, but now wasn’t the time. Mamma could go either way now, and one wrong word could spoil everything.

  Mamma looked from me to Mom and back again. She was dragging it out, like a presenter revealing the winner of some reality TV show. Then she sighed. That’s when I knew.

  “OK!” Mamma said, with her hands up in surrender.

  “Yes!” I didn’t mean to shout, but I couldn’t help it.

  Enzo came running into the room, swiftly followed by Gari, his paws skittering across the kitchen floor. “What’s happening? Are we going to Disney World?”

  “Nope, it’s way, way better than that,” I said, giving Mamma a hug.

  “I’ll take you to the mall after school tomorrow,” Mamma whispered while Enzo was busy quizzing Mom.

  It was official: my parents were awesome.

  Chapter 28

  Marion sat with me and the boys for our strategy meeting at lunch on Tuesday. Except there wasn’t actually much strategy to discuss. The plan was really very simple. Still, it was fun to write everything down and draw a completely unnecessary map. Marion even came up with a code word, but I can’t tell you what it was because the information is still classified.

  Mamma picked me up after school for our mission to the mall. We were done in less than five minutes, so she asked if we could make a quick detour for her to try on a dress she’d seen. Normally, I wouldn’t be caught dead in the store we ended up in, but Mamma had done me a huge favor, so I figured I owed her this much.

  While Mamma was in the fitting room, I found myself wandering over to the girls’ section. I walked past rows of clothes that Jade and Chelsea would probably wear, and Maisie too, now that she’d reinvented herself.

  A sales assistant asked if she could help me find anything. I said I didn’t know what I was looking for, but I should have said that I wasn’t looking for anything at all. I was just killing time and would have preferred to be left alone, thank you very much.

  The sales assistant was about the same age as the moms, but she looked very different. She looked like she’d just stepped out of a music video. She wore a ton of makeup, but it looked good on her. Her lips were as red as a fire truck and her eye shadow looked sort of smoky. She looked me up and down with her eyes narrowed. I wanted to run away. “I’ve got just the thing. It’s not for every day, but if you have a special occasion coming up, it would be perfect. A school dance or something?” There was a school dance coming up at the end of the semester, but there was no way I was going to be there.

  She led me over to a rack of dresses. Dresses! If she’d have seen me in my normal clothes and not my school uniform, there’s no way she would have thought I was interested in dresses.

  She took a dress off the hanger. It was silvery, shimmery, and short. It looked like someone had skinned a mermaid.

  “What do you think?” She maneuvered me over to a mirror and held it up to me. The metal bit of the hanger dug into my throat, so it felt as if she were holding me hostage.

  I looked in the mirror at the dress with me behind it and the woman behind me.

  If my life were a crummy movie, this might have been some kind of lightbulb moment where—ping—I realized that I do like dresses after all. Cinderella will go to the ball (or end-of-semester dance) and that silly “being a boy” thing was just a phase.

  Instead, I took one look at myself, laughed out loud, and said, “No.”

  “Oh,” said the sales assistant. “But it’s so pretty. Don’t you think?”

  I tried to stop laughing, but the look on her face was too funny. You’d think I’d insulted her instead of some silly dress. I took a deep breath and managed to get the giggles under control. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s a very nice dress! It’s the top seller in our Los Angeles stores.”

  I felt bad for her because she was only trying to help. “I’m sure it’s a lovely dress. And I’m sure it would look great on someone else.”

  “It would look great on you! Go on, just try it on. I promise you won’t regret it.” She held out the dress to me, like it was some kind of precious offering.

  I wasn’t laughing anymore. “Actually, I would regret it. It’s just not…Well, it’s not me.”

  I thanked the woman, apologized for wasting her time, and walked away.

  I felt different somehow. Stronger.

  Chapter 29

  Jacob’s mom answered the door the next morning, smiley and bouncy. “This is all very exciting, isn’t it?” she said. “And I hear you’re the brains of the operation?”

  I told her I liked her One Direction T-shirt, and then I almost tripped over the dog at the bottom of the stairs. He was sitting politely with his tail thumping on the wooden floor. He was small, white, and very fluffy. He didn’t look like a Bob. He looked like he should be called Fifi Pickles or Mr. Hugglesworth. I bent down to give him a scratch behind the ears, and he flopped straight onto his back for a belly rub. Not so different from Gari after all. Looks can be deceiving. Who knows that better than me?

  Jacob, Marion, and the others were in the living room. Jacob introduced me to his sister, Chloe, who was back from college for the week. She was r
eally cool. Her clothes were all mismatched and her hair was dyed three different colors (blond, pink, and blue). She’s studying chemistry (yawn!), but her real passion is clothes. She runs a fashion blog with one of her roommates. Chloe took a picture of us all on her phone and posted it on Twitter and Instagram. Within five minutes, she had twenty-six retweets and fifteen regrams. She was still frantically typing away on her phone when we left the house. Jacob’s mom waved us off and shouted good luck as we marched down the street.

  Jacob and I walked in front of the others. I told him that Enzo had been frantically practicing skateboarding to try to impress him the next time he was over for dinner. We carried on for a little while, talking about this and that, listening to Marion and Miguel be nerdy about the upcoming science fair.

  We were all acting as if everything was normal. Then an old man stopped and stared at us when we were waiting to cross the road. He shook his head and muttered something under his breath when he shuffled past us. Jacob and I took one look at each other and burst out laughing.

  When we got close to the school, more people started to notice. A lot more were staring, some laughing, and some cheering. A few Bankridge students started walking behind us as if we were staging some kind of protest march, which I suppose it was.

  We’d timed the walk to school so that we would arrive ten minutes before the bell rang. That’s when it’s busiest, with hundreds of students streaming through the gates, which conveniently are located right in front of the window of Mr. Lynch’s office. He likes to stand at the window and watch for latecomers. You might think he’d have better things to do, but you’d be wrong.

  =

  Word had got out by the time we reached the gates. There was a real crowd now. Any moment now, Mr. Lynch was bound to realize something was up—if he hadn’t already. My stomach felt fizzy and jumpy, as if I’d just eaten three packs of Haribo Sour Mix.

  Jacob’s dad was there, leaning on the gate and sipping a cup of coffee. At least, I assumed it was Jacob’s dad, since he had a huge, fancy-looking camera slung around his neck. A woman with a notepad was standing next to him, craning her neck to look at the students as they passed. A few seconds later, she spotted us and started frantically scribbling in her notepad. Jacob’s dad chucked his coffee in the trashcan and started fiddling with his camera.