“I’m sure the bear’s pellet food is a balanced blend of the nutrients that it needs to live in captivity,” my mom said. “There are laws about this sort of thing.”
I looked out the back window again to see if Willy and Grandma were watching the bear. And what I saw happening in their front seat disgusted me.
“They’re kissing!” I screamed. “I don’t want to see that.”
“Then don’t look,” my mother said.
I turned around and stared into the front seat. My dad glanced in the rearview mirror.
“I don’t want you to look at them either,” I said.
I really thought it was time that Grandma dumped Willy and started living full-time in the house again. Because living in a motor home in our driveway was lame.
I turned around and looked at Willy and shot him daggers. But it didn’t help. He and Grandma started kissing again.
“Make them stop!” I said. “It’s gross.”
“Bessica, Willy and Grandma are a couple. Deal with it,” my mom said.
The car started moving again and I saw brand-new bears I hadn’t seen before. I thought about what my mom had said. I hated to think of Grandma and Willy being a couple. Grandma deserved so much more.
“Half of all marriages end in divorce,” I said.
I don’t know why this statistic popped into my head, but it did. My mom whipped her head around with a face of total surprise.
“Have you been eavesdropping on their conversations?” she asked. “Do you know something?”
I felt terrible. Because this meant my mom thought it was possible that Willy and Grandma might get married. But I wasn’t even thinking of anything that horrible. I was just focusing on how many couples get divorced every year.
“Let’s mind our own business,” my dad said.
“Okay,” I said. But really, that wasn’t how I felt on the inside. On the inside, I was thinking there must be a way to break up Grandma and Willy before they decided to do something as stupid as get married.
“Ooh,” my mother squealed. “There’s a pair of arctic wolves!”
I looked at them, but I wasn’t very excited.
“It says here that they’re a couple,” my mom said.
“Wonderful,” I said. But I thought it was obvious that they were a couple. Because they were the only two arctic wolves in the preserve. Then it hit me: just like the female arctic wolf who only had one choice of a mate, Grandma was limited to terrible Willy. I looked back at them. I knew what this problem needed. More arctic wolves. Lots and lots and lots of wolves.
On the morning of Sylvie’s birthday party I got out her present and sat on my floor and looked at the purple paper and admired what a good job I’d done wrapping the box. I felt terrible that I was going to miss her disco/jungle party. And I’d miss the chance to hang out with Raya Papas too. I regretted sending a lot of those texts.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
“I’m busy,” I called from my bed. But that wasn’t true. I just didn’t feel like talking to anybody.
“It’s your grandma!” a voice called through the door.
“Hi, Grandma,” I said. “You can come in.”
Because even though I was in a terrible mood, I still wanted to see Grandma.
She swung my door open and practically jumped into my room. “Are you looking forward to the party?” she asked. “Mrs. Potaski always makes the most amazing cakes.”
“Yeah,” I said. I didn’t really feel like telling Grandma about how Sylvie had told my principal I had fungal foot and this somehow had led to rude text messages and how I eventually got uninvited to her birthday party. And how the present on my bed for Sylvie was a battery-powered nose hair trimmer.
“Do you know what I’m thinking?” Grandma asked me.
I looked up at her. She was smiling. I had no idea what she was thinking. “I think I should take you to the party! It would be great to see the Potaskis. Plus, I have to give Sylvie that present I bought her in Minnesota.”
“Is it a bear key chain with a terrible paint job?”
And as soon as I said that I felt bad about criticizing my gift. But the paint was chipped, and also sort of sloppy. Instead of having defined teeth, my grizzly bear just had a pure white mouth. It didn’t even have a tongue.
“You don’t like your key chain? I thought it was a very appropriate gift,” Grandma said. She sat down next to me. “Okay. I did get you something else, but I’m saving it.”
“For what?” I asked. I was worried she was going to say my birthday, which was four months away. And I didn’t feel I should have to wait that long.
“Willy and I want to take you out to dinner and give it to you as a special treat,” Grandma said.
This was terrible news. Because I really wanted Willy to just disappear.
“Oh,” I said.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
I watched as Grandma tapped on the purple box holding Sylvie’s nose hair trimmer.
“What’s inside?” Grandma asked.
“Sylvie’s birthday present,” I said.
“So you want to keep it a mystery until the big reveal,” Grandma said.
I nodded.
“Bessica, would you prefer that I not take you to Sylvie’s party?” Grandma asked.
She sounded a little bit hurt when she asked me this question. Like maybe I’d be ashamed to have her take me to the party. But that wasn’t it. I just didn’t know how I felt about Grandma taking me to a party I wasn’t invited to.
“You can come,” I said.
And I was really surprised to hear myself say this, because it meant that Grandma and I were both going to Sylvie’s party even though neither one of us was invited.
“Great!” Grandma said. “You should get moving. We need to leave in an hour.”
I looked at my clock. She was right.
“Are you going to dress up?” Grandma asked. “Maybe wear a skirt?”
I shook my head. “No skirt. It’s a disco/jungle theme party. I think she’s playing a roller-skating game, and I’ll need to use my legs and stuff.”
“Really?” Grandma asked.
I nodded.
“Well, then I won’t wear a skirt either,” she said. She winked at me and got up.
“Hey,” I said as she was leaving the room. “Willy won’t be coming, will he?” I knew my question sounded a little rude, but I didn’t like the idea of three uninvited people showing up at Sylvie’s birthday party.
“No, Willy went to the auto parts store,” Grandma said. “He’s fixing a couple of things in the Winnebago.”
“Oh,” I said. “Cool.”
After Grandma left I thought for one second that maybe I should call Sylvie and ask if me and Grandma could come. But then I decided it made a lot more sense just to show up with Grandma and pretend I’d forgotten about all those texts. Or maybe pretend I thought we’d made up. Then the phone rang and I thought maybe Sylvie was calling to invite me at the absolute last minute, so I answered it very quickly.
“This is Bessica,” I said.
“This is Alma.”
“Oh,” I said. I tried not to sound as disappointed as I was.
“Is your grandma or Willy there?”
Grandma didn’t have time to have a conversation with Alma. But instead of telling her that, I thought of a better idea. Because I realized that Alma would make a great third wolf! Which was exactly what Willy and Grandma needed so they could break up.
“Willy is at the store, but he’ll be back soon. You should come over. He needs help,” I said.
“Can’t Rhoda help him?” Alma asked.
Rhoda was Grandma’s name.
“No,” I said. “She’s escorting me somewhere.” I didn’t think I needed to tell Alma all the details of my life.
“I’ll see if I can stop by,” Alma said.
“Great!”
Then we hung up and I kept getting ready. When I finally came out of my bedroom I was wearing cute jea
ns, a blue top, and my special sneakers. I’d put in the orange tongues, in honor of Sylvie’s jungle theme. Because tigers were orange.
“You look great,” Grandma said.
“Yeah,” I said.
“Where’s your present for Sylvie?” Grandma asked.
It was hidden under my bed. But I didn’t tell Grandma that. “Can’t your present be from both of us?” I asked.
“Why don’t you want to bring your gift?” she asked.
“Um,” I said. I worried that if I showed up to the party I wasn’t invited to with a lame present for Sylvie, my entire future with Sylvie would be in jeopardy.
“Wait one second,” I said as I walked back to my room.
“Don’t dawdle,” Grandma said. “We don’t want to be late.”
But I didn’t know if that was true.
I walked into my room, but I just couldn’t bring myself to get Sylvie’s present. I sat on my floor. How had I ended up here? Why did Sylvie have to have such terrible nose hair in the first place? I finally pulled the box out. I couldn’t give this to Sylvie. Giving her this gift in front of her friends would be the exact same as complaining to her about her nose hair in front of all her friends. And I would never do that. So I searched my room for something Sylvie would like. But all I found was my own stuff that I wanted to keep forever. So I grabbed a cute tote bag and puffed it up like it had something inside it and figured I’d just lie and say I’d forgotten the present.
I hated lying. But sometimes it made the future feel more hopeful.
Grandma drove Mom’s car to the party, and when we got to Sylvie’s house there were so many other cars stuffed in the driveway that we had to park along the road.
“Looks like a big party!” Grandma said. “Did you tell Sylvie I’d be home or is she going to be completely surprised to see me?”
I swallowed hard as we walked toward the front door. “She’s going to be completely surprised to see you,” I said.
Luckily, Sylvie was not standing at the door greeting people as they came in. And the lighting was a little dim. A giant disco ball hung from the ceiling, shooting colors across the walls.
“Mrs. Potaski went all out,” Grandma said as we walked in and took off our shoes.
“Yeah,” I said. I kept glancing around for people I knew. Uh-oh! I couldn’t believe it. Raya Papas was sitting on Sylvie’s couch.
“Grandma!” I said. “You’ll never guess who’s sitting on Sylvie’s couch!”
Grandma looked at the couch. “Who is that?”
“It’s Raya Papas from my math class. I invited her,” I said.
“Sylvie is so sweet to let you invite some of your own friends,” Grandma said.
And I didn’t exactly know how to explain to Grandma that none of what she’d said was true.
“Bessica!” a voice cheered. “And Rhoda Lefter!”
Nobody called my grandma Rhoda except for a few adults. I glanced around and realized that Mrs. Potaski was the person talking to us.
“I just got back, and I wanted to come and wish Sylvie a very happy birthday,” Grandma said.
I watched as Grandma and Mrs. Potaski hugged. I didn’t see Sylvie anywhere. Why wasn’t she at her own birthday party? And then I saw her. She was sitting next to Raya Papas. How had I missed that? I stopped breathing.
“Do you want to set your tote bag down?” Mrs. Potaski asked.
I nodded.
“Take the present out first,” Grandma said, “so we can set it on the gift table.”
I took a big breath and held it.
“What’s wrong?” Grandma asked.
“I forgot it,” I mumbled. Grandma looked very disappointed to learn this.
“No way! Is that Bessica?” a familiar voice called. And it was familiar because it was Sylvie.
I slowly turned and looked at her. And the coolest thing ever happened. She seemed happy. It was amazing. Because I was standing in the middle of her living room as an uninvited party guest and Sylvie was smiling at me. It felt very, very good.
“Hi,” I said. “Grandma Lefter came too. But she’s not staying for the whole party.”
“You’re back!” Sylvie yelled as she ran to Grandma and gave her a hug.
Click. Click. Click.
Mrs. Potaski snapped pictures of us looking happy. I hoped all of us stayed looking happy.
After Sylvie finished hugging Grandma, she came over and hugged me. And I was really surprised by what happened next. I heard myself whisper something to Sylvie.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I regret every mean text I sent.”
Sylvie stopped hugging me and pulled away from me. She looked me in the eye and smiled. “Yeah,” she said. “Me too.”
And it felt very good to be forgiven.
“Cool disco ball,” I said. “Did it cost a fortune?” I was surprised there wasn’t more jungle stuff. No safari hats. No grass skirts. No fake parrots. No monkeys. She didn’t even have a single piñata.
Sylvie laughed. “It’s a rental. And guess what? In honor of the disco/jungle theme, I invited a special guest.”
“Ooh,” I said. Because I thought maybe it was a famous disco person.
“A tiger is coming,” Sylvie said.
“What?” I said. “That’s insane!” Seeing bears behind electric fences seemed reasonable. But bringing a tiger into a house didn’t seem smart.
“No. Not a real tiger,” Sylvie said. “You know him. He’s a mascot.”
“No,” I said, backing up. “No.”
“Yes!” Sylvie answered, widening her eyes like a thrilled person. “T.J. the Tiger is coming!”
My world spun faster than the disco ball above me.
“Why?” I asked. “Is he your friend?” Because that seemed evil of her.
“My mom knows his mom, and since my party is a disco/jungle theme it made sense to invite a tiger,” Sylvie said. “Plus, he doesn’t get invited to many parties. I guess he’s not that popular.”
“Duh!” I said. “He’s the worst.” I didn’t want to bring up the fact that he wanted to facebomb me, because I didn’t even want to say that word. I wondered if he’d try to facebomb me at a party.
“Bessica!” Grandma called. “Did you know that Mrs. Potaski invited a tiger mascot to the party?”
“I just found out,” I said.
“He’s running a little late,” Mrs. Potaski said.
I really hoped the party would get going so we could hurry through it and I could leave without meeting T.J. I wasn’t ready to face him. I wasn’t even dressed like a bear.
“Maybe you should go talk to Raya. She’s nice. And guess what?” Sylvie said. “You forgot to sign her invitation. She didn’t even know you were the one who invited her here.”
“Oh,” I said. I didn’t tell Sylvie that I’d done that on purpose.
“Go talk to her,” Sylvie said. “Did you know her cousin is an astronaut?”
“No,” I said.
I couldn’t believe that Sylvie had sat next to Raya Papas for ten minutes and learned the most interesting things ever, and I’d sat next to Raya Papas for weeks and didn’t know anything about her except what I could learn from staring at her.
I started to walk toward the couch, but I stopped when Grandma stepped right in front of me.
“I’m headed home. Do you want me to swing back with your present?” she asked.
“No,” I said. “Don’t do that.”
“Okay. I’ll pick you up when the party is over. Have a great time. And save me a piece of cake.”
“Do you want me to wrap it in napkins?” I asked. Because I’d saved a cupcake for her once like that and it had wrecked the frosting.
“Mrs. Potaski is going to put a piece in some Tupperware for me,” Grandma explained.
And as Grandma was leaving, I sort of wished I was leaving too.
“Disco time!” Sylvie yelled. Everybody jumped up and started dancing. The music made the floor throb as the lights spun aro
und the room. Tiger. Tiger. Tiger. I couldn’t turn my mind off. I was too young to be facebombed at a birthday party.
I decided the best thing to do was to get away from this situation in a hurry. Sylvie and I had made up. I didn’t need to stay here and dance. I tripped over somebody’s jacket, and the next thing I knew I crashed into the gift table and presents flew everywhere.
“Aah!” I cried. “I’m breaking the presents.”
The music stopped, but the disco ball kept spinning. From the floor, I looked up at over a dozen blinking faces.
“Sorry,” I said.
“What’s wrong?” Sylvie asked.
“I was dancing and I fell,” I lied. I didn’t want to admit that I was fleeing in fear.
“Why are you dancing on my presents?” Sylvie asked.
“So weird,” Raya Papas said.
“No, I was dancing over there and ended up over here,” I said. I wanted to convince everybody that I just covered a lot of ground when I danced. “Watch.” And I started zooming as wide and far as I could while shaking and shimmying. Admitting that I was afraid of another mascot would make me look lame.
Shimmy. Shimmy. Shake.
Nobody looked amused. They looked freaked out and confused. Then my mind flashed to something Vicki had said. So I unleashed a mojo-building move. “Watch my windmill arms!”
And that was when the worst thing ever happened. That was when Mrs. Potaski entered the room with her triple-layer cream cake and hit my mojo-building windmill arms.
SPLAT!
What a mess. It looked like the cake had exploded. All over Mrs. Potaski. And the carpet. And the gift table. And everybody’s shoes.
“My cake!” Sylvie cried.
And when I turned to look at her I saw the most awful thing ever. I saw her sad, sad face bursting into tears. And I saw Malory Mahoney the Big Plastic Phony putting her arm around her. And I wished that I could have been the one to be putting my arm around Sylvie. But I wasn’t because I had just windmill-armed her mom and her birthday cake.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The person at the door didn’t wait for anybody to answer it. It swung open and there stood Grandma. She looked very shocked when she saw the exploded cake. I rushed toward her and put my hands out in a begging way. I think I wanted forgiveness.
Bessica 2 - Bessica Lefter Bites Back Page 11
