Smart Cookies

by Adriana Brad Schanen

  “Oh, I hope so,” I answer. “Because it’d be too hard to choose!”

  My mouth feels drooly now. I can’t believe this word problem is all about cookies.

  Math + cookies + extra credit = an offer I can’t refuse.

  Ms. Jasani and I get to work, figuring out that word problem. We count the whole numbers. We count up all those decimals.

  When the bell rings, I’m not done finding the answer. I freeze.

  “It’s okay, Quinny, take your time…tiny step by tiny step, remember? I can give you a late pass if necessary. Take as much time as you need.”

  Ms. Jasani stays there next to me, and we find that answer together. And the good news is Amina DOES have enough money for all three cookies—exactly enough. I’m so happy for her!

  And then Ms. Jasani pulls out a pack of real live cookies, and offers me one, as a reward for doing that word problem.

  “Ms. Jasani, you are breaking the law! You can’t have cookies in the classroom anymore. Didn’t you hear about Principal Ramsey’s strict new rules?”

  “If you tattle on me, Quinny, I won’t bring you a cookie next time.”

  She makes a sneaky face, and wow, that is called a threat, I think. A really fantastic one.

  “You did a great job paying attention and working hard, Quinny,” she says. “See you next time. And good luck with your petition, by the way. Mrs. Flavio told me all about it.”

  She smiles at me. And it looks like she’s telling the truth, not just trying to make me feel better. Either Ms. Jasani is being honest, or she is a very, very, extra-very good actress.

  I walk back to my classroom with a bit of extra pep in my step. Because Math Lounge was not awful—and also, because now it’s time for lunch and recess.

  The best feeling ever is when lunch and recess are about to start—it feels like you’re right about to jump out of a plane! (With a parachute on, of course.)

  Everyone’s by the lockers getting their lunch boxes and chatting. I stop by my locker and I notice something strange going on. All the girls are talking, but none of them are talking to Victoria. They all walk off and leave her behind.

  Victoria looks at me. Her mouth twists. “Quinny…?”

  I can’t believe she thinks I’m going to forgive her for the Smart List, just like that.

  I turn away and head to the cafeteria, too, with my new petition. Hopper said he’d help me get some autographs on it today, since we have to start from scratch.

  But before I can find him, Kaitlin comes up to me. “Quinny, I love your socks,” she says. “Are you still asking people to sign your petition?”

  “It’s actually a new and improved petition. I’m kind of starting over….”

  “Oh, cool. Can I help?”

  “Sure, why not.”

  Kaitlin is being so nice all of a sudden. I didn’t realize she was such a sweet person. I thought she mostly cared about nail polish, like Victoria. (And she’s right that my socks today are pretty amazing—they’re covered in watermelon slices, to match my barrette.)

  Kaitlin and I spend most of lunch getting kids’ autographs on the new, calmer petition.

  Xander reads the petition and says, “Wow.”

  Avery tells us it looks “very professional.”

  Sawyer says, “Quinny, those cookies look almost real.”

  That’s really a compliment for Hopper, since he drew the cookies. But he’s not standing here to accept it, so I smile and thank Sawyer.

  I don’t see Victoria at all in the cafeteria, and I’m relieved.

  I don’t see Hopper, either, and I’m confused. Where did he go?

  Finally I spot him, coming from the hot lunch line, which sometimes takes forever.

  I rush over to him. He’s holding a tray. “Hopper Hopper Hopper, there you are. Look, Kaitlin and I just got a bunch of autographs.”

  “I noticed,” says Hopper, looking from me to Kaitlin.

  “Do you want to help us?”

  Hopper shrugs. “Still gotta eat. Looks like you’re doing fine on your own.”

  “Okay, well, meet us outside for recess?”

  He doesn’t answer.

  “Come on, Quinny,” says Kaitlin, pulling me along. “Alex hasn’t signed it yet….”

  At recess, Kaitlin and I keep walking around with the petition, and McKayla follows us, too, now, and we get lots more autographs.

  I finally see Victoria out here, and it shocks me for three reasons.

  The first shock: she’s sitting on the ground. Victoria never sits on the ground because it would get her clothes dirty.

  The second shock: she’s sitting alone, behind the sycamore tree, like she is hiding. Victoria usually has people surrounding her and acts like a spotlight is shining on her.

  The third shock: there are tears on Victoria’s face.

  I walk over to her. Because I’m fascinated by those tears.

  “Quinny…” Victoria’s voice is just a rough little squeak.

  “Let’s go ask Izzy to sign the petition,” says Kaitlin, pulling me away.

  “Yeah,” says McKayla, following Kaitlin.

  “Quinny…please,” says Victoria. “I never wanted anyone to see that thing….I never even brought it to school.”

  I let go of Kaitlin’s hand and look at Victoria. “But it was right by my locker.”

  “I don’t know how it…” Victoria’s face tips down. “I threw it away at home, honest.” She sputters her words. “You can’t hate me, Quinny, you just can’t, please….”

  Even more tears dribble out of her eyes now.

  “Give me a break,” says Kaitlin, trying to pull me away again. “Let’s go get more people to sign your petition before the bell rings.”

  “Yeah,” says McKayla.

  McKayla is very, very, extra-very talented at following other people around, I guess.

  Me, not so much.

  I don’t know what to do. (Hopper would know, but he’s on the other side of the playground, still painting the Books & Buddies Bench.) I try to think. Victoria said she threw that list away at her house. If that’s true, then how did it get by my locker, for me to find?

  Maybe she’s lying.

  I guess it doesn’t matter. Because Victoria still made that awful meanie list in the first place, and it called me the dumbest dummy of the whole class. And nothing she says now can make up for that. So I finally just let Kaitlin pull me away from her.

  And I only peek back once.

  I’m almost done painting the Books & Buddies Bench. But it’s hard to focus because of what’s going on behind the sycamore tree.

  Victoria is sitting there, crying.

  I see Quinny and Kaitlin and McKayla walk away from her.

  This is none of my business. Victoria is not my favorite person.

  But she is still a person.

  I put down my paintbrush and walk over to her.

  I stand close enough for her to notice me.

  She does. And she doesn’t send me away with her eyes.

  “Why did you do it?” I say. “The Smart List.”

  Victoria’s face gets extra pinched. “Leave me alone.”

  I sit down next to her.

  “I just…it was just something to help me work harder, and do better and…”

  But Victoria is already a hard worker and strong student. I don’t understand.

  “I wasn’t even going to show it to anybody, I threw it in my trash at home.” Victoria looks at me all intense now. “I don’t even know how it got here, I really don’t.”

  “Honest?”

  “Honest! I just wanted to…I mean I wanted to win STOMP last month, and I wanted to make my dad see…I mean, he was away on a trip, and I just wanted to feel like I was…”

  She kind of breathes out the last word. Smart. She drops her head to her knees.

  The STOMP award is a really tough award to win—Principal Ramsey gives out only one each month, which is why it stands for Student of the Month Prize
.

  “Do you really think Quinny is the dumbest person in our class?” I ask her.

  Victoria shakes her head. “No way. And I’m not the smartest, either. You are.”

  “I’m not,” I say. “I’m really not. There’s no such thing. Everybody is just…different.”

  Victoria looks at me. I’ve never seen her face so blotchy before.

  “I’m sorry I even made that stupid list. I don’t even know how it got to school, I swear.”

  There is something I could say here, about Kaitlin, but I don’t say it.

  “You’ve got paint on your shirt,” Victoria says next.

  I look down at my chest. “I’m almost done with the bench.”

  “That’s outdoor paint. It’s tough to get out, but I know how, because I’m an expert on stains and doing laundry.”

  “Laundry?” I know Victoria wears a lot of complicated clothes. But I didn’t know she washes them herself. That surprises me.

  “Masha taught me. Laundry has a lot to do with science, you might like it.”

  I shrug at this.

  “Your bench looks nice,” she says. “Even though people don’t want to read at recess.”

  “They might,” I say. “If there’s a bench to do it on. And books to choose from. After I finish the bench, I’m going to build a Little Free Library. I’m saving up money for that.”

  I tell Victoria about the Little Free Library project. And she actually listens.

  “Hopper?” A voice interrupts me. “What are you doing?”

  I look up. It’s Quinny.

  She, Kaitlin, and McKayla are all staring down at me. I don’t know what to say.

  “He’s being nice to someone who was mean to you,” Kaitlin answers for me.

  I look at Kaitlin now, right into her eyes. I know she had that Smart List before Quinny found it by her locker. I know she was the one who wanted Quinny to see it.

  But I really don’t want to get sucked into this. Drama is not my style.

  And why should I do something nice for Victoria, when she’s never done anything nice for me? I should keep my mouth shut, which is the most comfortable position for it to be in.

  And yet…Quinny deserves to know the truth.

  And the truth deserves to have people know it. So, I take a deep breath.

  “Kaitlin showed me that Smart List last week,” I tell Quinny. “She’s the one who had it.”

  “What?” Kaitlin’s mouth snarls. “Hopper, cut it out.”

  “She showed it to me at recess. She wanted me to tell you about it.”

  “I did not!”

  Victoria sits up a little and looks at Kaitlin. “You were at my house. For a playdate. You were in my room.”

  “So? I go to lots of people’s houses,” says Kaitlin.

  “Did you steal that Smart List?” asks Victoria. “I never wanted anyone to see it!”

  Kaitlin looks uncomfortable now. “It was trash,” she says. “You threw it away.”

  “So you left the Smart List by my locker?” Quinny says to Kaitlin. “You stole it from Victoria’s trash and brought it to school, even though you knew it would hurt my feelings?”

  “I…didn’t steal….She threw it out!”

  “You should say sorry to Victoria,” I tell Kaitlin. “That was her private garbage can.”

  Kaitlin does not say sorry. She glares a mean face at me.

  “And you can’t get mad at Hopper for telling,” says Quinny. “Because he did an honest thing and you did a sneaky thing.”

  “Yeah,” says McKayla.

  “McKayla, please stop agreeing with everybody,” says Quinny. “It’s driving me nuts. You’re your own person, you should figure out your own opinion.”

  “Victoria thinks you’re a dummy,” Kaitlin says to Quinny. “She thinks everybody is a dummy but her.”

  “I do not,” Victoria says. Her eyes are full of tears. “I’m the dummy for making that list. I was just trying to make myself feel smarter, and it didn’t even work.”

  “Victoria made a bad mistake,” Quinny says to Kaitlin. “But you tried to hurt people’s feelings on purpose, which in my opinion I think is worse.”

  Quinny glares at Kaitlin. Victoria shoots a hurt look at Kaitlin.

  Other people are around us, too, now, staring at Kaitlin.

  Everyone switches from being mad at Victoria to being mad at Kaitlin.

  Kaitlin looks like she’s about to cry.

  All that drama didn’t go away. It’s just going around in circles.

  All of a sudden the tears switch from Victoria’s face to Kaitlin’s, and now I have to be mad at Kaitlin, too, I guess. But being mad is hard work, and that’s it, I’ve had enough.

  It’s the day before Thanksgiving, can’t we all just be nice?

  Be nice, forgive people, have fun, be grateful, and not be awful?

  I’m going to forgive everyone and end all this stupid stuff right now.

  “Victoria, guess what, I’ll forgive you for making the Smart List, if you forgive Kaitlin for stealing it. And Kaitlin, I’ll forgive you for stealing it, if you forgive Hopper for tattling on you. Not that he did anything wrong, but you know what I mean. Okay? Deal?”

  I have everyone’s attention now.

  “I’m serious, guys, I don’t like fights,” I say in my biggest voice. “I don’t like whispers and glares and gossip and hurt feelings…plus it’s Thanksgiving, so we should be thankful and kind and mind our own beeswax and be generous, because everyone has feelings, so please try!”

  I’m not really sure what I’m saying now, but it feels good to let it all gush out.

  “Wow.” Caleb comes over when I’m finally out of words. “That was awesome.”

  “What was?”

  “You,” says Caleb. “The way you just calmed everybody down.”

  Did I really? This might be the first time that I have ever calmed anybody down.

  And then my life gets even more unbelievable, because Victoria steps up to me.

  “I’m really sorry,” she says.

  “I believe you,” I say back.

  Quinny is so busy making a big speech that she doesn’t notice me walking away.

  I’m not in the mood for any more words. I walk to the yard guard. If you say you don’t feel good, he’ll let you go inside to see the nurse.

  “Hopper, wait!” Quinny and Victoria catch up to me.

  “Thanks for telling the truth, Hopper,” says Victoria.

  “You did a good thing,” says Quinny.

  I shrug. But my heart feels a little thrilled. “So did you,” I tell her.

  I think of the card I started making Quinny yesterday. I want to go home and finish it. She’s so talented at people, friends, life. I don’t know how to say it. But I know how to draw it.

  “Hopper, want to play with us after school?” Quinny asks. “It’s early dismissal.”

  I shake my head. “I have some stuff to do.”

  “You sure? Victoria and I might go skating,” says Quinny. “Wanna come?”

  Victoria looks surprised. “I didn’t think you’d want to skate again after your big crash.”

  “Are you kidding? I love skating! My arm is all better and I can’t wait to see Coach Zadie again and learn a pizza stop and show that ice who’s boss.”

  Victoria and Quinny do this squealing-hopping thing that turns into a hug. I feel a pinch in my chest at how easy and comfortable their hug looks. It’s never like that for me. Then they start talking about other stuff that makes no sense to me—swizzles? foot-stink spray?—so I wander away.

  I don’t feel left out. Just wiped out. I painted the Books & Buddies Bench, and talked to Victoria, and told the truth about Kaitlin. And now I’m done. I wish Thanksgiving break would start right now and I could just go home and stay in my room the whole time.

  If I were a car, my gas tank would say EMPTY.

  The last thing I’m in the mood for is chorus, but that’s what I have to do before I c
an go home. I slouch in the back row and mumble through “Jingle Bells.” Quinny’s up front, bellowing the words and banging her wood block. Ms. Bing keeps waving her hands at us, like a real conductor. I should be looking at her, but I can’t help staring at Quinny up there, swaying and bopping, making nutty faces, having the time of her life.

  I don’t know how she does it.

  On my way out of chorus I hear Alex snickering and joking to Xander and Johnnie. I hear him say “Quinny Dumble” again.

  Even though Principal Ramsey talked to him, and to all of us, about bullying. Even though he knows it’s wrong to call people names.

  My hands ball up into fists. I’m so tired. And people are so awful.

  I can’t take it anymore. I can’t accept it.

  I go up to Alex by the lockers a moment later.

  “If I ever hear you call Quinny that name again, I’ll tell everyone how you peed your pants at my house.”

  It was all the way back in kindergarten, when our parents still made us play together.

  Mom had to loan him a pair of my jeans.

  Alex just stares at me, like I’m joking. I stare right back at him, like I’m not joking.

  He’s bigger than me. He’s meaner than me. I can feel my heart pounding in my ears.

  “I mean it,” I tell him.

  At dismissal, Quinny leaves with Victoria.

  The bus ride home is much calmer without her sitting next to me. Calmer but lonelier.

  When we get to my stop, I don’t have energy for the chickens, so I go straight home. Mom asks if I’m okay. Then she asks what’s wrong. Then she asks if I want to go for a run. She says a run will make me feel better. But all I want is to go upstairs to my room.

  My room feels like a gas station, and I go there to fill my tank with things like reading, and drawing, and juggling, and taking care of my aquarium, and putting together human anatomy models, which are like 3-D puzzles of body parts. I’ve already put together models of an eye, a heart, and a foot. They’re incredible, even if I’m the only one in my class who thinks so.

  I take out my newest model: an ear. But it’s not just some Mr. Potato Head ear you snap on a cartoon head—this thing is complicated. The human ear is divided into three main parts—outer ear, middle ear, and inner ear—and each part is filled with even more (and tinier) parts. Things like tubes and canals and spirals and ducts and drums—some of which are smaller than a pencil tip. The stapes bone in your middle ear is actually the tiniest bone in the human body.