It would be worse than awful.
Andy scooped up a spoonful of Spaghetti-O’s without looking at Emma. “Anna won’t be able to make it.”
“It’s because of the seizures,” I said quickly. “Anna’s been having really bad seizures. And Mrs. Liddell probably doesn’t want to bring her somewhere that’s noisy and crowded because it can set off the seizures—”
“It doesn’t have anything to do with that,” Andy cut in. “She doesn’t go to this school anymore, and she can’t come to the party, that’s all.”
“Oh,” Emma said, sounding disappointed. “That’s too bad.”
“Does it hurt to have seizures?” Madison asked. “What happens when she has one?”
“It’s like a fainting spell,” I told her. “She falls down and her eyes roll back in her head—”
“It’s no big deal,” Andy said, shooting me a dirty look. “She takes medicine for it. Can we talk about something else?”
“Sorry,” Madison said. “I was hoping we’d see Anna at the party.”
“Me too,” Emma said.
Andy shrugged and shoveled large spoonfuls of Spaghetti-O’s into his mouth, one after another.
Madison, Emma, and I glanced at each other. I could tell they were waiting for me to speak, but what was I supposed to say?
Madison came to the rescue. “What kind of presentation is your group doing for social studies, Andy?” she asked.
A smile spread slowly across his face. “It’s going to be really cool. We’re doing a game show, with prizes and everything! What are you guys doing?”
“Can’t tell you,” Madison said quickly, then looked at the rest of us and put her finger to her lips.
“Why not?”
“It’s a secret,” Hannah said.
“It’s going to be awesome!” Emma said.
I looked around at the other girls. “If we get the work done.”
Andy turned to me. “Pansy will eventually tell me.”
“No, she won’t.” Madison winked at me. “She’s good at keeping secrets, right?”
I nodded. “Sorry, Andy. You’ll have to wait and see.”
“Who came up with the idea for a game show?” Hannah asked. “I bet it was Daniel.”
“Actually, it was my idea,” Andy said.
“Andy has great ideas—” I started to say, but Hannah interrupted.
“So, why’d you pick Daniel for your group, anyway? He’s a pretty weird kid,” Hannah said. “I’ve never heard him say a word.”
“He only talks to people who know how to listen,” Andy said. “Besides, he doesn’t waste time arguing.”
Emma giggled, then clapped a hand over her mouth when Hannah glared at her.
“You know what? I think I’ll go sit with him right now.” Andy picked up his tray and headed to the end of the table to sit next to Daniel before I could stop him.
“What did you do that for?” I asked Hannah. “Why were you so rude to him?”
Hannah shrugged. “Who wants to sit with a boy at lunch anyway?”
Madison ran her fingers through her hair. “I kind of like sitting with him.”
“Me too,” I said quietly.
As I sat there half-listening to the conversations around me, I replayed in my mind what had happened a few minutes earlier. I pictured Andy’s face when I’d mentioned Anna’s seizures. Had I embarrassed him when I talked about Anna?
I glanced over at Andy where he sat with Daniel and some other boys. I knew the truth about why Andy had moved to a new lunchtime spot, but I wasn’t sure what to do about it.
Hannah wasn’t the only reason Andy had left the table.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Five Weeks, Four Days
The autumn party turned out to have a theme: life in the US during the 1800s. Miss Quetzel was all about making things educational. After we made cornbread from a mix and butter that we had to shake in jars just like in the nineteenth century, we pushed the chairs back for a big square dance.
“Since we’re trying to be authentic here,” Miss Quetzel said as she held up a paper bag, “the dance will be boy-girl.”
Laughter and groans mixed together. All I could think was, If I end up with Zach Turansky, I will just die.
When it was my turn, I closed my eyes tight, crossed my fingers, and squinched up my toes as I reached in the bag. Please let it be Andy, I said over and over in my head. And when I opened the slip of paper and saw Daniel’s name, I let out a big breath. It was tons better than Zach, but did I really want to dance with Nose-in-a-Book Daniel, the boy who kept Anna—and me—from being number one in the reading contest?
Miss Quetzel, however, didn’t mind dancing with Daniel at all. She jumped to her feet and demonstrated all the steps, sashaying with her partner before she turned on the music and let us give it a try. It ended up being a lot of fun. Daniel didn’t have sweaty hands, and he didn’t stomp on my feet on purpose, like a lot of the other boys would have. He smiled at me while we do-si-doed and laughed when he messed up. Turns out he was much nicer than I’d thought.
After the square dance, we did some paper weaving and made stovetop hats, just like President Lincoln wore. Then we ate the cornbread and butter and drank hot cider.
“Want to come over to work on Zeraclop today?” Andy asked while we ate our snack. I looked up at him. It was the first time he’d asked in a while, and more than anything I wanted to say yes. But then I remembered all the extra work I had now that we’d started the social studies project, on top of all the other extraordinary things I had to stay on top of.
I shook my head. “I can’t,” I told him. “I have to work on the research for the project.”
“Oh, come on,” Andy said. “Our group got most of ours done in class.”
“Well, Madison has special plans for our project, so that means a lot of homework,” I said. Madison had this idea that we had to actually write a skit instead of just dress up and read our reports. “Sorry,” I told Andy. “I wish I could.”
“Whatever.” Andy turned away from me, but not before I saw disappointment flash in his eyes. My stomach sloshed, and for a second I almost said, “It’s all right, I can put off my homework for one day.”
Then I remembered how I’d moved up to second place in the reading contest, right behind Daniel. Any day now, I’d fly right past him. And I couldn’t skip afternoon roller-blading practice. I was finally getting the hang of it, but missing a practice could mean a rough time on the ice at Saturday morning’s class.
I had a little over a month until Anna’s surgery to prove I was extraordinary. Zeraclop would have to wait.
***
I noticed the shoes right away. Madison showed up at school with one pink and one lavender, both the same style. Emma wore a brown shoe with a strap across her ankle and a white tennis shoe with laces.
“So, what do you think?” Madison said as we headed toward the blacktop at recess the next day. She kicked her pink foot in the air.
“Well . . .” I hesitated a minute. Her shoes were the same shade of pink and lavender as the flowers on her skirt. “Your shoes match your outfit. It looks like you did it on purpose.”
“Of course I did it on purpose. I had to sneak my lavender shoe in my backpack and change in the bathroom before class. Mom wouldn’t have liked it, even if I am color-coordinated.”
“My mom didn’t notice,” Emma said. “I knew she wouldn’t. Things are very hectic around our house in the mornings.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were going to wear different shoes today?” Hannah asked as she ran to keep up with us. “I have two different boots that would look so cool together.”
“It just sort of happened,” Madison said. “Actually, Emma and I were talking about it on the way home yesterday. I didn’t know she was actually going to do it, though.”
“And I didn’t know she was going to do it!” Emma said with a giggle.
Hannah frowned. “I wish you had told me about
it.”
“It’s not like we planned it,” Madison said. “Pansy’s the one who started it. But I’ve gotten so many compliments today! I bet a lot more girls in our class will wear mismatched shoes to school tomorrow.”
“Just think,” Emma said to me. “It was all your idea! What made you wear two different shoes on the first day of school anyway?”
“Well, the truth is . . . I did it by accident.”
“By accident?” Hannah repeated.
“Yup. I was rushing around, and I was worried about my haircut—”
“Which is still a little crooked,” Hannah said.
Both girls turned to stare at Hannah.
“You are so rude,” Madison said to her.
“What?” Hannah said. “I’m only being honest.”
“It’s no big deal,” I told them. “Hannah’s right. My haircut’s all lopsided. And on the first day of school, I was busy thinking about how I looked when it was time to find my shoes.”
“So, why’d you keep wearing two different pairs each day then?” Emma asked.
I shrugged. “Once I started, it was hard to stop.”
“I still think they look funny,” Hannah said, staring down at my feet.
Madison turned on Hannah. “If you think Pansy looks funny, then you must think the same thing about us.”
“No,” Hannah said quickly. “Your shoes look great, Madison!”
Madison held her chin up high. “If you don’t like Pansy’s hair and if you don’t like Pansy’s shoes, then maybe you need to find someone else to hang out with.”
Hannah shook her head and looked over at me. “No, I mean, I like you, Pansy—”
“Well, you sure don’t act like it,” Madison said. “And if you want to be friends with us, then you have to be nice to Pansy, too.”
“Okay, sure. I’m sorry, Pansy,” she said. She didn’t exactly sound like she meant it, but who cares? Madison had stuck up for me, and that’s what mattered.
Madison put one arm around me and one around Emma. I couldn’t help grinning. “Come on, let’s go to the swings!” she said, and we headed to the playground, Hannah trailing behind.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Three Weeks, Four Days
It was finally time for our Civil War presentations. After weeks of research, skit-writing, rehearsing, and listening to Hannah whine, I was ready for the project to be over. I hurried into the classroom the morning of the presentations and carefully hung the bag with my costume in it on a coat hook on the back wall.
“Pansy!” Madison called to me from where she stood by the bulletin board. “Come look!”
A crowd gathered around the latest Independent Reader postings, and I knew from Madison’s face that it had to be good news. As soon as I walked over, she threw her arm around me. “You’re in first place!”
“Really?” I stared at the paper, and there was my name at the top of the list. I blinked to make sure I was seeing it clearly. For a moment, the thought flashed through my head that I might have earned some of those points unfairly. But before I knew it, I was surrounded by girls cheering and telling me how great it was that someone had finally beaten Daniel Walker, and I pushed the thought right out of my head.
I was number one, for the first time in my life!
As I stood there listening to the girls congratulating me, I thought back to last fall, when Anna told me she wanted to win the reading contest. “I’m going to earn more points than anyone!” she had said as we stood in the library looking for books to check out. She had looked over at me and added, “I’ve got an even better idea! Let’s both earn the most points. Then we can share the trophy!”
I’d giggled at the idea of sharing the trophy. Besides, racing through a bunch of books just to earn points didn’t sound so exciting to me—especially not last year.
“That’s okay,” I had said with a grin. “I’ll let you have it.”
Now I couldn’t wait to tell her the news. Because of Anna, I was now in first place, and we could still share that trophy!
Zach’s voice broke through the chatter of congratulations. “You won’t be in first place for long,” he sneered. “Haven’t you seen the book Daniel’s been lugging around lately? It weighs about ten pounds, and it’s gonna be worth tons of points. Just wait till he takes his next test, he’ll blow you away.”
“Like I care what you think.” I shot him a dirty look and pushed past him to my seat. Today, I was in first place, and no one was going to change that—not even Zach Turansky.
Soon it was time for our presentations. Madison changed into a long velvet pageant dress and piled her hair up on top of her head. I changed into black pants, the black hat I made at our autumn party, and Mom’s suit jacket, which was too long and hung off my shoulders.
Everyone oohed and aahed when Madison walked into the room. No one really noticed Hannah the spy in her plain black dress or Emma in her jean skirt and nurse’s cap. They were too busy admiring Madison and then laughing at me.
Oh, well. It was hard to look elegant when you were dressed like Abraham Lincoln. Especially if your beard was made out of construction paper, cotton balls, and string.
Our skit began with a conversation between Mr. and Mrs. Lincoln at the supper table. “This biscuit is delicious,” I said, picking up a piece of plastic bread and pretending to take a bite.
“Yes,” Madison said, dabbing at her mouth with a handkerchief. “Maggie is such a wonderful cook! Now, darling, what news do you have about the war?”
“I received a report today from the generals.” I reached under my plate for my report about the battles. As I leaned forward, my hat fell off my head, knocking over my plastic cup of real ice tea.
I inhaled quickly. I tried to grab my report, but it was too late. The tea had already spread across my paper, making the ink impossible to read.
Muffled giggles, coughs, and snorts filled the room.
Luckily, it was only a copy of the one I’d pasted onto our poster. “Um, it’s right here.” I picked up my hat and moved to where our poster was tacked to the board. I read from the poster like we had practiced, and all was going well until I heard another giggle.
My hat slipped down over my eyes and I pushed it up so I could see. I stared out at the audience. Everyone was staring at us, and they looked amused. Civil War battles weren’t exactly entertaining stuff, so I knew it had to be something else—me!
I’d looked at myself in the mirror when I dressed up at home, and there wasn’t anything funny about my outfit. So why did I keep hearing those scattered sounds from the classroom, sounds that told me someone was trying hard not to laugh out loud?
Was it the hat that I had to keep straightening on my head? Or was it the much-too-big suit with the rolled-up sleeves? Or maybe . . . could it be . . . gasp! Was my fly unzipped?
I tried to concentrate on reading out the facts of the war. But all I could think about was my zipper. Somehow, I had to sneak a look without making it obvious—but how? If I looked away from the poster for a second, I’d lose my place. Then Miss Quetzel might not give me a very good grade on the presentation.
The solution popped in my head as I finished reporting on the Battle of Williamsburg. I turned from the poster and said to Madison, “Mary, dear, will you pass me another biscuit?”
More sound effects from the audience. Madison wrinkled her eyebrows like she was trying to figure out what I was doing. She handed me a biscuit so quickly I didn’t have time to glance at my zipper. So I handed the biscuit back to her and said, “With butter, please?”
While Madison pretended to butter a plastic piece of bread, I stole a glance at my pants.
Whew. I let out my breath slowly. It wasn’t my zipper! So what in the world was everyone laughing at?
“Some people are not being very respectful listeners,” Miss Quetzel said to hush them up.
I looked over at Andy in the front row. He had his hand clamped over his mouth, like he was trying not to make a
sound.
I reached for the biscuit. Madison opened her eyes wide and motioned with her head to look down. I’d already checked my pants, and I knew I was safe. I squinted back at her. She ran her hand across her chin.
I reached up to touch my beard. It was hanging halfway off my face! So that was the problem! I turned around and reached up to fix it. My foot landed on something soft. When I glanced at the floor, I noticed the pile of cotton balls around my feet.
What should I do now? Keep going with the presentation, pretending like half my beard was not scattered across the floor and all I had was a brown piece of construction paper hanging from my chin? Or stop, pick up the cotton balls, fix my beard, and then finish with the presentation?
I glanced back at Madison, hoping she’d make the call. But she just shook her head and shrugged, like she had no idea what to do.
And that’s when I made a decision. A decision to save our skit. “Excuse me folks. We need to pause for a brief commercial break.” I looked over at Hannah and Emma, who stood off to one side, waiting for their cue. “This commercial announcement brought to you by Hannah and Emma. Back in a moment!”
Hannah and Emma looked at each other. Then Hannah walked to the front of the room and did her best to sell for “Civil War Biscuits,” straight off of Madison’s plate. The other girls joined in, and while they put on a biscuit commercial, I picked up all the cotton balls, grabbed some tape from my desk, and stuck them back on my beard. Then I retied my scarf, straightened my hat, and returned to my spot just as Hannah was taking a fake bite into the biscuit and saying, “Mmm, mmm, good!”
“And now,” I said, staring bravely out at my classmates, “back to your regularly scheduled program.”
We finished the rest of our skit without a hitch. The class broke into applause at the end. I bowed, the others curtsied, and I found it hard to keep a smile off my face as I returned to my seat.
I, Pansy Smith, felt truly extraordinary.
***
“Great presentation, Pansy!” Andy said as we headed to the playground at recess.
Extraordinary Page 9
