“Head to the library,” Ms. Kenny said. “I’m right behind you. I need to clean this up.”
As the three of us walked back to the library, it was hard for me not to feel tremendously guilty for getting Venice kicked out of her first Big Boo.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I know I didn’t handle that right. It just really hurt my feelings to see them dressed like that. Like what I’d said in my pops was a joke.”
“It was harsh,” Leo said. “I tried to warn you. But who ever thinks they’re going to come face to face with all the crappy pops they’ve sent?”
I tried to ignore that Leo had called my pops crappy. I tried to focus on Venice.
“How mad are you, Venice?” I asked. I wanted to know where I stood with her.
“Well, I’m not as mad as you,” she said. “It’s crazy what you did back there.”
We reached the library and she opened the door for me. I hung my head and entered. The librarian looked startled to see us.
“Aren’t you missing the Big Boo?” she asked.
“We sure are,” Leo said.
“Principal Hunt sent us here,” Venice explained.
As soon as we sat down at a table, Ms. Kenny arrived.
“What a mess,” she said, pulling up an undersized chair. “Okay. I need to know exactly how this started.”
Everybody looked at me. Which surprised me. Because I had zero idea how things had gotten to this point. I pulled my fur paws off and stared at my hands.
“Are you and Drea frenemies?” Ms. Kenny asked me.
And it really bugged me that Drea was anything to me. She wasn’t my friend. She wasn’t my enemy. She was an annoying person who kept getting more annoying and so I tried to explain this to Ms. Kenny in a way that made me look sympathetic, and not like some angry costume attacker.
“I actually don’t know her that well,” I said. “One day, out of nowhere, she came to my house.”
“That’s not exactly right,” Venice said. “You’ve known Drea for years.”
“But just as a name. Not as a person. I didn’t do stuff with her,” I explained. “She was never my friend.”
“What did she want when she came to your house?” Ms. Kenny asked.
And when I thought about that question, I realized how impossible Drea’s request had been. “She wanted me to take a picture of her that was so awesome everybody would forget about the online clip of her throwing up all those hot dogs in a bucket at the fair.”
“Doesn’t she realize people stopped talking about that months ago?” Leo said. “It’s old news.”
“People still make puking sounds at her in the hallway,” Venice said. “It’s not over over.”
“Did you agree to help her?” Ms. Kenny asked me.
And I tried hard to think of exactly what I’d said. But I couldn’t totally remember. “I think I said I’d try.”
Ms. Kenny exhaled and drummed her fingers on the table. “Venice and Leo, would you mind sitting over there and waiting for us?” She pointed to a table clear across the library.
“No problem,” Leo said. He punched me in the shoulder as he left. Then he scooped up Venice’s hand and they walked away.
It was all pretty awful. I felt like crying. But I didn’t want to do that in front of Ms. Kenny.
“It’s unfortunate what happened to Drea,” Ms. Kenny said. “But you can’t erase the Internet.”
But I didn’t think that was totally true. “Actually, stuff gets taken down all the time,” I tried to explain.
“I know. But my point is that people have seen it and nobody can ever unsee something. Drea has to look ahead and move forward.”
“Exactly,” I said. “And a nice picture would have helped with that.”
“Okay. So you agreed to take a nice picture. So then, how did these happen?” She spread the crumpled paper out on the table.
“Not those again,” I whined, looking away.
“Perry, I like you. You’re talented and an incredibly hard worker. And I do think you’re nice. But you’re also responsible for where you are here.”
And it really sucked to hear Ms. Kenny say that.
“That’s harsh,” I mumbled. Because from where I was sitting I wasn’t sure how I could’ve avoided all of it. Some of it, okay. But not all of it. I felt tears welling up in my eyes.
“Be careful what you take on,” Ms. Kenny said. “Middle school should be fun. You should be spending time with your friends. Learning new things.”
I glanced over at Venice. That seemed to be her middle school experience much more than mine.
“Is what I’m saying making sense?” Ms. Kenny asked, reaching out and squeezing my hand.
“Yeah,” I said.
“I need to get back to the photo booth. I left Anya and Javier in charge and I need to check on them.”
And then it sort of hit me. The complete unfairness of everything. The fact that I was crying in the library missing Big Boo because my attempts to help a geek look less geeky in the yearbook had totally backfired and the geek had ended up betraying me. And Anya was running the photo booth. How did she always come out on top? It felt like the world loved her more than it loved me. And that felt so wrong.
“Wait,” I said as Ms. Kenny got up to leave. “I need to tell you something.”
“Okay,” she said. “Is it something you want me to pass along to Principal Hunt?”
I shrugged. “I want to quit.”
“Quit?” Ms. Kenny looked surprised. “Quit what?”
“Yearbook,” I said.
She let out a big breath. “Perry, you’re too good to quit.”
I shook my head again. “I think it’s ruining my life. I eat, sleep, and drink tasks. Did you know I had thirty-seven of them?”
“Thirty-seven?” she asked, sounding surprised.
“Yes. I’m done. I can’t keep doing this. Because I’m going to get suspended now, aren’t I? Isn’t that what happens when you attack students and put staple holes in their clothes? And then I’ll fall super behind in my classes.”
“I hope you don’t get suspended,” she said. She closed the space between us and gave me a hug. “I’m not going to let you quit right now. Come talk to me tomorrow. If you still feel the same way, we can transition you into something else.”
And when she said it that way, that I could be transitioned into something else, my future felt a little scary. Because Yearbook had been the thing I’d wanted for so long. And now I had it. But it was killing me. So that meant it hadn’t been the thing I’d really wanted, right? It had been the thing I thought I wanted when I thought it was something else.
I felt very confused that day when Ms. Kenny left the library. I had no idea what was going to happen to me. All I knew was that my parents were going to freak out when they learned about this. Which was probably happening at that very second.
Since I couldn’t return to the Big Boo, my mom had to come pick me up at school. To say she was surprised, upset, and disappointed was an understatement. She arrived at the office in dust-covered workout clothes.
“You do your exercises in the garage now?” I asked, trying to avoid the subject of my punishment.
“I was moving heavy things,” my mom said, standing in the doorway of the detention room, which was where Venice, Leo, and I were all being held until our moms came and got us. I had no idea what had happened to Drea and Hayes.
“Well, you look great,” I said, picking up my backpack and walking toward the door.
“I just finished speaking to Principal Hunt. Your PopRat account is history. And hand me your phone. You’re grounded.”
Giving her my phone made me feel very sad and very alone.
My mother continued her harsh tone with me all the way home. And when my dad got home, he was harsh too.
“You can’t lunge at your classmates and destroy their clothes, no matter how offended you feel by their accessories,” he said as we sat across from one another eati
ng soy hot dogs on whole wheat buns.
“Right,” I said. Because I figured that was the best thing to say.
“I blame Piper for some of this,” my dad said, wagging his half-eaten hot dog at me. “She’s unhinged the family. She’s upset the order of everything.”
But I felt like I needed to stand up for my sister. “I think hot dogs are more to blame for this than Piper.”
My dad didn’t understand Drea’s history with that meat product, and that I was being serious.
“It’s outrageous that you can joke about this. You’ve got detention again. You’re the only Hall to ever get detention, and now you’ve had it twice.”
“Your father’s right,” my mother said.
I started to tear up. “You think I want this?” I asked. “You think I wanted those kids to show up dressed like my PopRat account and have everybody laugh at me?”
My parents looked at each other and back at me.
“I know I’ve said this before, but I just don’t remember middle school being this hard,” my mom said.
“It’s very, very hard,” I said. Then I took a big drink of water and said what I’d been thinking all day. “I told Ms. Kenny I wanted to quit Yearbook.”
My mom dabbed at her mouth with a paper napkin. “That’s actually a worthwhile thing to consider.”
My dad didn’t look thrilled about this. “Quit is my least favorite verb.”
“But I feel swallowed by it,” I explained. “It’s too much.”
“Would Venice stay in it?” my mom asked.
I nodded. That made me so sad to admit. I hated the idea of leaving her there. We’d looked forward to that stupid class for months. But the reality was, it just wasn’t an enjoyable elective.
“Does she know you want to quit?” my mom asked.
“Not yet,” I said. My voice was breaking. “But she’ll be fine. Her boyfriend is in there.”
My mom and dad gave each other a glance.
“I think I’m going to go to my room,” I said.
And I didn’t even wait for my mom or dad to give me permission, I just took off. Once I was on my bed, it felt like my world was spinning. Was quitting the right thing? I wasn’t sure. I probably wouldn’t know for another month or so. After enough time had passed that I could decide whether I really missed it. While I was crying and feeling sorry for myself, my dad knocked gently on my door.
“Perry,” he said sweetly. “Can I come in?”
“Actually,” I called to him, “I need a few more minutes.”
He knocked again. “You’ve got a phone call. It’s Drea.”
And that really blew my mind. She was the last person I wanted to speak with. “Tell her that she ruined my life and that I never want to take another call from her again.”
He opened the door and came in. “Well, your mom has already talked to her mom and Drea wants to apologize, so I don’t really feel like I can relay that message.”
I flipped around. “But I don’t want to talk to her, Dad.”
“Just let her apologize. It’s the civilized thing to do,” he said.
That felt like a cheap excuse. Just because it was civilized didn’t mean it would help anything get better faster. I dragged myself into the kitchen, and my mom handed me my phone. Then she kissed the top of my head.
“She sounds so sorry,” my mom whispered.
Me: Hello?
Drea: I want you to know that I feel like total crap.
Me: Okay.
Drea: You were actually really helpful. My photos look great. And now I have a boyfriend. And I’m really happy.
Me: Um, my dad said you’d called me to apologize.
There was a long pause and I worried that she hadn’t called to apologize at all. That she’d just called to brag about how great her life felt.
Drea: I took advantage of you. You said you’d help me fix my reputation. And instead of just taking what you could give, I got greedy. I wanted your sister’s help too. And her clothes. And I knew it bugged you and I didn’t care. It was crappy of me. I’m sorry.
I waited for her to mention dressing as my PopRat account. But she didn’t say any more. I just listened to her breathing.
Me: Um, I’m still pretty upset that you dressed up as my PopRat account and tried to humiliate me at the Big Boo.
I could feel my parents staring at me.
Drea: You know, Hayes and I actually thought you’d find it funny. We didn’t realize it would flip your switch. We were totally surprised when you leaped at us and tore off all the pops.
Was she being serious? It sounded like she was.
Me: Well, it was mean. Why would I find that funny?
Drea: We just didn’t think it through. I didn’t have a good idea for a costume. Neither did Hayes. And we were hanging out at his house, reading your pops over and over because we were both obsessed with how awful they made us feel. And then I said “Let’s just wear them to school and call it a costume.” And Hayes said, “Okay.”
In the history of apologies, this one was pretty stinky. It was as if she didn’t even understand what a lousy thing she’d done.
Me: You really hurt my feelings. And now I have detention.
Drea: Hayes and I have detention too. Principal Hunt was furious with us. She called us bullies. Can you believe that?
Me: Yes. I can.
Drea: Okay. You still sound pretty upset, so I’m going to let you go. But I just want you to know that I know I crossed a line. Hayes knows he did too. And we hope you can stop hating us. We’re sorry.
And here’s the terrible truth about getting an apology. Afterward, you have to accept it. Because if you don’t, you stay stuck in your own anger. Seriously. It will never go away.
I took a deep breath. “I don’t hate you guys,” I told her. “It just created a bunch of drama I don’t need.”
“I feel you,” Drea said. “And now I’m going to give you what I should have given you a while ago: space. Bye!”
She hung up so fast I didn’t even have time to say goodbye. I clicked off my phone and set it on the table.
“Did it go okay?” my mom asked, gently rubbing my back.
“Drea Quan is a very intense nerd,” I said. I felt a little off balance after talking to her.
“Everybody needs to be happier and stress out less,” my dad said. “I think that’s the takeaway here.”
“And stop trying to help the nerds,” my mom said. “It’s turning you into a different person. One who’s in detention.”
I nodded.
“I’m going back to my room,” I said.
After I got there, I slipped into my softest pajamas and climbed into my bed. My dad made it seem so easy: “Stress out less and be happier.” Could I do either of those things in Yearbook? I didn’t know. All night long my mind ping-ponged the idea of quitting. I couldn’t quite imagine what my life would feel like without it. What would I put in its place? What would they do without me?
—
When I woke up I panicked a little bit, because I was going to be late for school. I rushed as fast as I could to get ready, and when I went to the table for breakfast, I asked a very logical question.
“Why didn’t you wake me up?”
“You looked so peaceful,” my mom said. “You never look like that anymore. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.”
That answer bummed me out. Because it meant that any time I wasn’t asleep my face looked disturbed.
As I nibbled on my toast, I asked another logical question: “How long until I get my phone back?”
Really, I thought my mom should have handed it over right then. What if Piper tried to text or call or pop?
“Your father took it to work with him,” she said. “He’s taking PopRat off it.”
I didn’t find that news too crushing. Though I was surprised he’d already left. “Did somebody break a tooth again?” I asked. Because Dad usually ate breakfast with us.
“They’re thi
nking about hiring a third dentist,” my mom said. “And if they do, we’ll be seeing a lot more of your father.”
I drank some orange juice and noticed a weird vase in the middle of the table.
“What is that thing?”
“It’s not finished yet. Don’t judge it,” my mom said. “I still need to paint the tail feathers. And then I need to take it to Melinda’s studio to get it fired and glazed.”
I didn’t know it had tail feathers. It looked very blobby.
“What kind of bird is it?” I asked. Because I didn’t even know my mom liked birds.
“It’s a turkey,” she said. “I’m making a Thanksgiving centerpiece.”
I couldn’t even determine where its head was located.
“Huh,” I said.
“You should come and pick out some greenware,” my mom said. “They’ve got all kinds of fun stuff.”
I stopped myself from complaining about not having enough time to start a ceramic project, because I realized that if I quit Yearbook I’d have loads of time.
“Maybe,” I said.
My mom’s face really lit up with that answer.
“I thought I’d drive you today,” she said. “And I packed you a lunch for detention.”
I let out a big depressing breath. “I should bring something to read too. It’s rough in there.”
When we opened the front door to leave I was surprised to see a box. It was from Drea. For one second, I was nervous that it was going to be something mean. Maybe her apology wasn’t for real. Maybe she was just setting me up to really slam me.
Then my dad’s advice popped into my head. “Stress out less and be happier.” And so I decided to try that. I quickly pulled open the flaps and saw something amazing: all of Piper’s clothes. It felt like this was where they belonged. The natural order of Piper’s cute shirts should have been that after they finished living in Piper’s closet, they came to live in mine. End of story.
When my mom pulled up to my school I sort of wanted to stay in the car. “Can’t we go get doughnuts?” I asked.
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