Stanford Wong Flunks Big-Time

by Lisa Yee

  Millie is now standing on her father’s feet as he leaps around the dance floor. I wish my parents were here dancing together. That would make Mom happy. There’s a picture on the fireplace mantel of my parents waltzing at their wedding. One time I caught Mom dancing around the room holding the photo. She’s weird like that when she thinks no one’s watching.

  After the song ends, I go with Emily, Millie, and her parents to Monstroso, the giant roller coaster. Mrs. Min refuses to join us, claiming she’s had too much bratwurst. That doesn’t stop Mr. Min. I wonder if Millicent knows how lucky she is to have a dad who likes roller coasters.

  On our fifth trip on Monstroso, Millie sits with her dad and I sit with Emily. While Millie looks like she’s trying to get the nerve to hold her hands up in the air, I’ve got my hands up, trying to get the nerve to put my arm around Emily’s shoulder. Neither of us succeeds.

  Millie wants to go on Monstroso one last time, but I’m afraid that if I do I’ll vomit. “Pass,” I say without explanation.

  Mr. Min nods in agreement.

  Emily speaks for us. “If I go on that thing again I’m going to barf. You go ahead, though.”

  Millie is the lone rider on Monstroso. Instead of screaming, she’s got a wild look on her face as she grins and holds her hands high in the air. I would have never pegged her as a roller-coaster person. Then again, if someone had told me at the beginning of summer I’d be asking Millicent Min to dance with me, I would have said they were crazy.

  It’s starting to get dark. We are making our way from the food area to the games. Millicent’s leading the way as Emily and I follow. Emily likes to talk, and I like to listen to Emily talk, so we make a pretty good pair. Suddenly the conversation shifts from basketball to books to brains, and Emily asks, “So you thought I only liked you because you were smart?”

  I gag on my all-time favorite food — peanut brittle.

  “Exactly how shallow do you think I am?”

  I feel myself turning bright red. Then I notice that Emily’s eyes are sparkling and she’s grinning. Phew!

  “I don’t think you are shallow at all,” I tell her as I pop a big piece of peanut brittle in my mouth. Millicent is trying to figure out the odds on the coin-toss game. “It’s just that, well, I thought that, um, I figured that since you thought I was so smart, you’d hate me if you found out I was dumb.”

  “Are you dumb?”

  I stop munching. My mouth is full, but still I manage to sputter, “I’m not exactly what you’d call an A student.”

  “Just because you’re not an A student doesn’t mean you’re dumb,” Emily muses as she takes the bag from me, digging in to find a piece that’s not crushed.

  “Right!” I agree. “I’m not dumb. I mean, I do dumb things sometimes, but I’m not dumb. You can ask Mr. Glick — I passed his class and he’s the toughest teacher at Rancho Rosetta. Plus, Coach Martin says you have to be smart to be a good basketball player.”

  “Stanford.” Emily moves closer and tugs on my shirt, sending life-altering shock waves through me. “I think we are being followed.”

  I turn around to see Tico, Gus, and Stretch tailing us as we make our way through the Fiesta. They try not to be obvious, but you can’t miss Stretch, even when he slouches.

  “It’s cool,” I assure her. “Those are my friends.”

  Suddenly Digger joins the other Roadrunners. This can’t be good.

  “Excuse me, Emily,” I say. She rushes over to Millie and whispers in her ear, then the both of them disappear.

  Though I have not been summoned, I join the guys.

  “Pardon me,” Digger says dramatically. “I have a small announcement to make.”

  Okay, this is it. My jaw tightens.

  “Our boy Stanford Wong has lied to you all summer,” he says smugly. My stomach drops to the floor. “He wasn’t working for his dad and he didn’t get an A in Glick’s class. Instead he flunked it and had to go to summer school. He’s a liar, that’s what he really is. What do you think of your Boy Scout basketball player now?”

  There is silence, except for the shrieks escaping from the House of Horrors. Then, out of nowhere, a deep voice says, “Zip it up, Digger.”

  We all look around but don’t see anyone but us. “Leave him alone,” the voice says again. Tico, Gus, Digger, and I stare in disbelief.

  Stretch has spoken.

  He sounds like a man. The last time we heard him speak he sounded like a girly frog. He looks uncomfortable. “What?” he asks. It’s almost creepy to hear him talk. It’s like we’re in one of those Japanese monster movies where the people’s mouths are moving, but the voices don’t match.

  “You spoke!” I say.

  “Big deal.”

  “Why haven’t you said anything before?” asks Tico. “Did you have a spell on you or something?”

  “I didn’t have anything to say,” Stretch answers. I can tell he doesn’t want to talk about this.

  “Makes sense,” Tico says. He turns to me. “Hey, Stanford, did you pass your class?”

  I nod. “I didn’t go to basketball camp, but I’m going to seventh grade.”

  Gus stands next to me. “I passed science. I had to go to summer school too.”

  Digger fidgets. “Stanford lied to us. He took us for idiots and he lied, pretending he got an A in Glick’s class when really he got an F. If he didn’t pass he wouldn’t have made the A-Team.”

  “Wow, that would have been a bummer,” says Tico.

  “But he did pass,” Stretch adds.

  Digger is turning more and more red. “You guys are all losers,” he mutters. “This is about honor and the code of the Roadrunners to always tell the truth!”

  “Yeah, well, you’re a liar too then,” Gus tells him. “Stanford told me the only reason you got so many points off of him this summer is because you blackmailed him!”

  Stretch’s and Tico’s jaws hang open.

  “I’m out of here!” Digger shouts.

  No one tries to stop him.

  “I’m sorry I lied to you,” I say to the guys. I really mean it.

  “Why did you do it?” Tico looks hurt. “Both of you had to repeat a class?”

  “Flunking’s not the sort of thing you broadcast all over town,” Gus mumbles.

  “I can’t think of anything more embarrassing,” Stretch contributes to the conversation. “Except maybe sounding like some sort of old woman and being laughed at all the time.”

  “Well, it is pretty bad,” Tico says thoughtfully. “If I ever flunked a class, I’d be so upset, I’d probably drop out of school. I’d probably have plastic surgery to change my face, and then I’d kill myself —”

  “Shut. Up,” Gus tells him.

  “I figured if I flunked summer school, I’d be off the A-Team, and then I’d be out of the Roadrunners too,” I say quietly.

  Gus looks serious. “Really? You thought that? Why?”

  “I dunno.” I shrug. “Just something I thought.”

  “Wait here,” he orders as he huddles with Tico and Stretch.

  I wander over to the Goldfish Ping-Pong Ball Toss. I feel like the fish just swimming around in circles. What are the guys talking about? About me, I’m sure. But Gus also lied about going to summer school. What are they saying?

  Finally they break and come toward me. I meet them halfway. No one is smiling. Gus begins, “We’ve decided that even though you still are on the A-Team, we’re going to kick you out of the Roadrunners.”

  “But why?” I plead.

  “Because you let Digger beat you at basketball,” Stretch says.

  “Because you never really worked for your dad,” Gus adds. “At least I really did mow lawns.”

  Tico steps up. “And because we are all tired of purple,” he says, looking grim. “It’s not good for our hair. I’m getting split ends.”

  “Aw man….” I kick the ground really hard.

  “Got you!�
� Gus shouts. Tico and Stretch break out laughing. “We got you good!” Gus sings. “Of course you’re still a Roadrunner. You’re such an idiot, you fell for it!”

  “You jerks!” I yell. I am soooo relieved. “You are all so lame.” I jump on Gus and try to choke him. “You’re all wusses!” It is so great to be a Roadrunner. Suddenly I remember something important. “I gotta go. Emily’s waiting.”

  “Emily’s Stanford’s girlfriend,” Stretch informs the guys.

  They all start snickering. “Go!” orders Gus. “Go before she gets smart and dumps you!”

  As I run away I can hear the guys shouting, “Emily! Oooooooh, Emily, Emily, Emily …”

  6:27 P.M.

  Emily looks thrilled to see me, and the feeling is mutual. With Millicent tagging along, we circle the games for a while, stopping at the B-Ball Bushel Throw. The man hands me a basketball, but I tell him, “I brought my own.”

  I get off to a slow start before sinking eight in a row and winning a prize.

  “Hey, Emily, do you want this?” I hold up a stuffed orange elephant wearing a blue bow.

  “Do you want me to have it?” Emily asks.

  “I want you to have it, if you want to have it,” I tell her.

  “Well,” Emily says, “if you really want me to —”

  “Just take the stupid elephant!” Millicent yells. She grabs the elephant out of my hands and practically whacks Emily over the head with it.

  Emily gives the elephant a hug. “Thank you, Stanford,” she says softly.

  Life doesn’t get much better than this.

  The three of us walk toward the exit, where Millicent’s parents are waiting. I slow down and so does Emily. Millie looks over at us. We are going so slowly we’re practically walking in place. “I’m going to talk to my mom and dad,” Millie finally says with a sigh. “Emily, meet you there.”

  We both smile at her as Millicent walks away shaking her head.

  For a while Emily and I just stand still and stare at each other. I don’t know what to say, but I don’t care. I wish this night would never end.

  Finally she speaks. “I’ve got my volleyball awards ceremony on Sunday. Not that Millie and I are going to win anything. But maybe you could come?”

  “Sure!” I answer too quickly. I pace myself. “Yeah, okay. Sure, I’ll check my calendar, but I can probably make it.”

  “I should warn you,” Emily cautions, “my mom will be there, and we’ll be with Millicent’s family. I hope you understand if I don’t sit with you.”

  “I totally understand,” I assure her. “I mean, if we are ever talking and one of my parents shows up, I probably won’t introduce you. Not that I am ashamed of you, because I’m not, I swear! But because my parents would probably do something to totally embarrass both of us.”

  “I know exactly what you’re talking about,” Emily says, nodding.

  Right on cue, Mr. and Mrs. Min start waltzing in public. “Come on, Emily!” Millicent shouts in a panic. “Hurry!”

  “Coming!” Emily shouts back. “Call me, okay, Stanford?” she says as she runs toward Millicent. Then she turns around and yells, “And this time, don’t hang up!”

  Like there’s any way I’d ever do that again.

  SEPTEMBER 1, 10:10 A.M.

  Now that summer school is ancient history, I have the whole day free. I head to the park. Stretch meets me halfway. “Hey, Mr. A-Team!” he calls out. I will never get used to his voice. He makes the rest of us sound like Minnie Mouse.

  We walk a while, then he asks, “What’s it like being so good at basketball?”

  Do I tell him about my green jade pendant? Finally I say, “It feels pretty great. But you’re not so bad at basketball yourself.”

  “No, I’m just tall.” He doesn’t sound too happy about this.

  We walk some more and then I ask, “What’s it like being so tall? I mean, you’ve got to know that you don’t look like a regular kid, right?”

  Stretch stops and looks all serious. “It’s weird. Remember how short I was?” I nod. “Then one day it’s like I wake up and I’m some sort of giant freak. I can’t even do things without my arms or legs getting in the way.”

  “It’ll all work out,” I assure him. Before I have a chance to explain that any of the guys would cut off their noses to look like him, Gus comes barreling toward us.

  “Stanford’s got a girlfriend, Stanford’s got a girlfriend!”

  “I do not,” I answer proudly.

  “What’s her story?” Gus asks.

  “She’s a new girl,” I tell them. They nod. New kids are always more interesting than old ones, especially new girls. New girls haven’t had the chance to hear how horrible we are.

  “Hey, dudes!” someone yells from across the park. It’s Tico. “Where’s Digger?” he asks.

  That’s what I’ve been wondering. Digger will probably beat me up the next time he sees me.

  “He’s probably constipated.” Gus laughs.

  “Digger’s too embarrassed to show up here,” Stretch declares.

  Huh?

  “Yeah, Stanford really showed him who’s boss,” Tico chimes in. “Digger was set on humiliating that girl, but what did she ever do to him?”

  I don’t say anything. These guys didn’t see Millicent foam Digger when they were little. Not that he didn’t deserve it.

  “If you guys were so concerned about her, then why did you encourage him?” I ask.

  “Digger just bet us he could dance a whole dance with a girl, that’s all,” says Gus.

  “Besides, she’s sort of cute,” Tico adds.

  I start to explain to Tico that she’s not cute, she’s Millicent, but then Digger shows up. We all stop talking at once. Without even acknowledging the other guys, Digger launches straight into his speech.

  “Stanford, a long time ago when you were a nobody, I offered you a spot on the Roadrunners. Now, I’m taking it back. What do you think of that?”

  I don’t know what to say. I’m not a Roadrunner anymore?

  Stretch speaks up. “If Stanford’s not a Roadrunner, then neither am I.”

  There’s a lump in my throat.

  “Me too,” says Tico.

  My lump’s getting bigger.

  We all look at Gus. He plants himself right in front of Digger. “Heck, I shoulda quit a long time ago!”

  Oh man, I hope I don’t start bawling.

  Digger’s face is twitching and he’s breathing hard but doesn’t say anything as we all stare at him. “Fine!” he yells. “I don’t need any of you guys. I’ll start a new Roadrunners team. Who needs you creeps?”

  As Digger storms off, Gus yells after him, “Hey! You owe us ten dollars. You never did finish dancing with that girl!”

  I turn to the guys. “Thanks,” I say. I want to say so much more. Instead I tell them, “Guess that means no more Lakers games.”

  “Or RV rides,” Tico says.

  “Or Roadrunners jerseys,” adds Stretch.

  “Or Digger to have to put up with,” Gus reminds us.

  Stretch tosses the ball to me. “Let’s play!”

  I wonder if I should tell the guys that Millicent was my tutor. I decide not to. Not yet. There’s been too much confessing going on lately. Today the world is back the way it should be, just me and my friends shooting hoops in the park. Even though we may no longer be Roadrunners, we’re still on the same team.

  2 P.M.

  The volleyball awards ceremony is two hours away. I’ve got to look good for Emily. I put so much gel in my hair that my head looks like a big giant slimeball. Now I have to wash it out and start all over again.

  To be safe, I use deodorant (three times) and think about shaving. Not that I need to shave, but at least I think about it. Stretch says that he shaves and hates it. I look at my skin. No sign of whiskers anywhere, although I do have a small group of pimples on my forehead. When I examined them in Sarah’s magn
ifying mirror they looked like mountains. I try to mask the zits with Sarah’s tinted pimple cream, only it looks like I am wearing makeup, so I wash it off. I could wear a baseball cap, only that would hide my hair and I have finally gotten it to look just right. The little swoop in the front looks great, just like Alan Scott’s hairstyle, only purple.

  Before I leave the bathroom, I brush my teeth and gargle with mouthwash twice. I breathe into my hand to make sure I don’t have bad breath. Smells good to me.

  I change clothes several times. I want to look nice, but not look like I planned what to wear. It takes me forty-five minutes to try on every T-shirt I own, ending up with the Alan Scott shirt Stretch gave me. As I switch from jeans to shorts, I notice that my kneecaps look funny. Is it just me, or do everyone’s kneecaps look like that? I change back to jeans and then go into the bathroom to redo my hair.

  I get to Emily’s gym early and sit high in the bleachers so I can see her when she arrives. There’s a big banner that reads RANCHO ROSETTA PARKS AND REC GIRLS’ VOLLEYBALL AWARDS. I reposition myself several times, trying to look casual. Finally I lean forward with my elbows on my knees and my chin resting on one hand. Oh yeah, that looks cool.

  I keep looking around for Emily. Then I spot Maddie, which must mean Millie is here, and if Millie is here, then Emily is too. There she is! I sit up and wave frantically at Emily. Millicent and her parents wave back. Emily turns red and smiles at me.

  A woman in the stands calls out to Emily. That must be her mother. She looks like a nice woman, a regular mom-ish kind of woman.

  The awards ceremony is boring until Emily wins the Team Spirit award. Emily’s mom starts crying at the same time I stand up and whistle and applaud. A bunch of girls look at me, so I quickly sit down. Some of them whisper to each other, then wave to me. I wave back. Why do girls always whisper when I am around?

  After blah, blah, blah, the coach goes on and on, and Millicent wins the Most Improved Player award. She starts bawling and then her father starts crying. Guess I’m not the only one with weird parents.

  After the ceremony Mr. Min yells, “Group hug!” They all glom together in what looks like a big football huddle, except for Millie, who eventually gets pulled in by Emily.