by Coco Simon
I shook my head. “If I don’t want to be funny in front of people, I certainly don’t want to debate in front of them. Plus, I’d have to research topics and gather information. You need to put a lot of work into getting your point across.”
“Well you certainly did a good job getting your point across that you don’t want to debate,” Mom said with a smile. “How about the math club?”
“That would be ‘no’ with a capital N,” I said.
Mom sighed. “Well, there must be something here you’d like to do,” she said. “Why don’t you take a look?”
As she turned the laptop to face me, the phone rang. Mom got up from the table and picked up the phone on the wall.
“Hi, Mom,” she said, and I knew she was talking to Grandma Carole. “Yes, the girls met today, but we’re going to keep your special dessert a secret. No, I won’t give you any hints!”
Then Mom took the phone into the living room, and I knew she was trying to talk to Grandma without me hearing. I strained to listen, but Mom was talking in her low phone voice.
Then she came back in the kitchen. “Katie, Grandma wants to talk to you.”
I took the phone. “Hi, Grandma.”
“Hello, Katie-kins!” Grandma Carole said. She has called me Katie-kins since I can remember, and she is the only one who calls me that—so don’t get any ideas. “So, your mom tells me you’re trying to find an after-school activity you can try.”
“Yeah,” I said. “But I’m having a hard time.”
“What about sports?” Grandma asked.
“Well, I’m not exactly great at sports,” I said. “Remember Grandpa’s stitches?”
“Accidents happen,” Grandma said. “And you’re young—like a baby deer finding her legs.”
A baby deer? I thought. This conversation was getting a little weird.
“Haven’t you ever seen a baby deer on one of those animal shows on TV? At first when they try to walk they are really wobbly. But after just a little while, once they gain confidence, they are frolicking in the woods with all the other deer. You just need practice—and confidence. Maybe you’d feel more comfortable joining a team with your friends. Do your friends play any sports?”
“Mia and Alexis play soccer,” I replied. “But I stink at soccer.”
“Nonsense!” Grandma Carole said. “Have you ever played before?”
“Well, a couple of times in gym, and—”
“That’s all? That’s not a true test,” she interrupted. “Soccer is a wonderful game. Doesn’t it look like fun when you see your friends play?”
“It kind of does,” I admitted.
“Life is not worth living if you’re always sitting in the stands, Katie,” Grandma said. “Go out there and try out for the soccer team. I bet you will surprise yourself.”
“Maybe I will,” I told her. Grandma Carole was so convincing, I was starting to feel like I could kick a goal from all the way across the field.
“I love you, Katie-kins. Now will you give me a hint about my birthday dessert?”
I laughed. “Nice try, Grandma! Not a chance. It’s a surprise.”
Grandma chuckled. “Okay then. It was worth a shot. Please give me back to your mom.”
“Bye, Grandma. Love you, too,” I said and then handed the phone to Mom. She was smiling.
I was smiling too. I didn’t feel flat anymore. I had a plan. Tomorrow at lunch, I would talk to Mia and Alexis about soccer.
CHAPTER 3
I’ve Got a Plan
The cafeteria at Park Street Middle School is pretty much like any other cafeteria. Lunch ladies serve food from behind steamy serving tables. It’s superloud, and at some point spitballs will be thrown (usually by Eddie Rossi and his friends). And even though the seats aren’t marked, everyone sits in the same place every day.
Take the Popular Girls Club (PGC), for example. They have the best table in the cafeteria, the one closest to the lunch line, where you can see everybody who goes by. Sydney Whitman, their blond-haired, blue-eyed leader, always sits in the right corner seat. Her friend Maggie sits next to her, and Bella sits across from Maggie. Callie, my former best friend, sits across from Sydney. The rest of the seats are empty—unless Queen Sydney gives her royal permission for someone to sit there.
Even though Callie’s not my best friend anymore, she’s still kind of my friend, so I always say hi to her on the way to my table. Callie always says hi back, but Sydney usually rolls her eyes or else she whispers something to Maggie and they laugh. I just ignore them. It makes life easier that way.
Anyway, I think the Cupcake Club table is the best one in the cafeteria even though it’s kind of way in the back. But it’s a little bit quieter back there, so Mia, Alexis, Emma, and I can talk cupcake business without anybody bothering us. (Well, most of the time. There was that one day when Eddie shot a spitball at us from ten tables away. Gross, but impressive.)
This Wednesday I found Mia at the table. She usually gets there first. Alexis and Emma were in the hot-lunch line, like they always are.
“Hey,” I said to Mia, who was opening the lid of her plastic lunch container. I noticed what looked like little pies inside. “Pie for lunch?” I asked.
“They’re empanadas,” Mia explained. “They’re kind of like pies, but they don’t have to be sweet. These are chicken and cheese. My dad and I visited my abuela last weekend, and she sent me home with a bunch.”
Now, I only started taking Spanish this year, but I hang around with Mia enough to know that “abuela” means “grandmother.”
“Cool. Your grandma bakes too,” I said.
“Want a bite?” Mia asked, holding out one of the empanadas.
“Sure,” I said. I opened my lunch bag and took out some carrots and some homemade oatmeal cookies. “Only if we can trade.”
“Deal,” Mia said with a grin.
Alexis and Emma walked up carrying trays of spaghetti and salad.
“I love spaghetti day,” Alexis said, sliding into her seat. “It actually tastes like food.”
“If the other stuff doesn’t taste like food, then what does it taste like?” I asked.
“I’m not sure,” Alexis replied. “Alien brains, maybe?”
Emma giggled. “It’s not that bad.”
Alexis and Emma started to eat their spaghetti. I decided to come right out with my idea. It was all I could think about all morning.
“So, I was talking to my grandma last night,” I said.
“About cupcakes?” Alexis asked.
“Not exactly,” I answered. “We were talking about why I don’t participate in activities, like sports. I know I’m terrible at them, but grandma thought maybe it’s because I haven’t played a lot. You know, just to have fun.”
Emma nodded. “That could be it. I’ve been playing basketball and Wiffle ball with my mom and dad and my brothers since I was little. Maybe that’s why I don’t stink at it.”
“And in Manhattan, I joined my neighborhood soccer league when I was five,” Mia added.
“Yeah, so, I was thinking maybe I could try soccer,” I said a little shyly. “I mean, I know I’m no good or anything but—”
“Katie, that would be so cool!” Mia said, her dark eyes shining with excitement. “I would love it if you played with us!”
“Definitely,” Alexis agreed. “That would be so much fun if you were on the team!”
“And don’t worry about not being good,” Mia said quickly. “Alexis and I can help you. Right, Alexis?”
“Of course,” Alexis said. “We have a game on Saturday, so maybe that afternoon we could practice with you.”
“Perfect!” I said happily.
It made me feel good to see Mia and Alexis so excited about me being on the team. And with their help, maybe I could be a halfway decent player. I actually felt a little bit excited about trying out. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.
“You know, you should come to my house tomorrow after school,” Emma sa
id. “You could play some basketball with me and my brothers. Just for fun, like you said. Who knows? If you’re good, you could try out for the team next winter.”
The idea of playing basketball with anybody—especially teenage boys—would normally make me very nervous. But for some reason I felt like I could actually do it. Maybe my friends’ enthusiasm was rubbing off on me.
“Okay,” I said.
The little voice inside me was saying, Basketball? Are you crazy? You couldn’t make a basket if you climbed on a ladder!
It’s just for fun, I told the little voice. I’ve got to try, just like Grandma said.
CHAPTER 4
It’s Supposed to Be Touch Football
There was one thing that Grandma Carole hadn’t psyched me up for: gym class. There are lots of reasons why I hate gym class more than any other class, even math:
1. I stink at all sports. (Yes, I’m trying new ones. But right now I stink at most of them.)
2. The teacher, Ms. Chen, has no heart. She’s not mean, exactly, but when you mess up, she doesn’t say, “Oh, don’t worry about it, honey,” like my mom would. Instead she says, “Look sharp, Katie!” or “Get it together, Katie!” If Ms. Chen wasn’t a gym teacher, I think she would be an ice princess living in an ice castle, with her glossy black hair pulled back and a white sparkly dress, and everything she touched would turn to ice.
3. Both Sydney and Maggie of the Popular Girls Club are in that class, and I only have one friend in gym with me: Emma.
4. Back in September my friend George Martinez started teasing me by calling me “Silly Arms,” after that sprinkler thing with the arms that wiggle all over the place, squirting out water. I guess that’s what I look like when I play volleyball. Anyway, I didn’t mind when George said it, but now other kids call me that too.
So two periods after lunch I was in the gym, wearing my blue shorts and my blue T-shirt that says PARK STREET MIDDLE SCHOOL in yellow writing on the front. Emma and I were sitting on the bleachers, waiting for class to start.
Sydney and Maggie were the last ones out of the locker room. Maggie has frizzy brown hair that’s always in her face, but Sydney always manages to look perfect, even in a gym uniform. Her straight, shiny hair is never out of place. I’m not sure how she does it. I think she must have been born that way. I can just picture Sydney as a little baby in the hospital. All the other babies would be screaming and crying, and little Sydney would be quietly smoothing her perfect hair.
Ms. Chen marched out of the gym teacher’s office carrying her clipboard, and Sydney walked up to her with a big smile on her face.
“Ms. Chen, what are we doing today?” she asked.
“Flag football,” Ms. Chen replied. She nodded over at George Martinez and Ken Watanabe. “George, Ken, get the flags from the supply closet.”
“Flag football! Awesome!” Ken shouted. He and George high-fived as they raced to the supply closet.
I groaned as the boys ran off.
“It won’t be so bad,” Emma said, but she didn’t sound convinced.
“Honestly, I will never figure out how to play that stupid game,” I said. “Are you supposed to run around and grab other people’s flags? Then why is there a ball involved?”
“It’s like football, but instead of tackling the player with the ball, you grab their flag,” Emma explained.
I shook my head. “You might as well be telling me how to build a rocket right now,” I said. “I do not get it. It’s too confusing.”
“Then just run around and stay away from the ball,” Emma suggested.
“Now that sounds like a plan,” I agreed.
Ms. Chen blew her whistle, and we both jumped up and ran to line up on the black line that goes all around the edges of the gym. Ms. Chen took attendance and then made us warm up with jumping jacks, push-ups, and sit-ups.
I’m pretty good at jumping jacks and sit-ups, but that whole push-up deal is not so easy; maybe because my arms are so skinny. I am usually on my third one while the class is finishing up number ten.
“Look alive there, Katie!” Ms. Chen called out.
Or I will turn you into ice, I thought. Actually, that wouldn’t be so bad. Then I wouldn’t have to play flag football.
Then it was time to choose teams. She made George and Ken captains. George picked me to be on his team, which was nice because he didn’t even pick me last. But then he picked Sydney and Maggie, and Ken picked Emma.
“Oh this is great. We’re on a team with Katie,” Sydney said loudly, in a supersarcastic voice.
I looked at Emma across the room.
Help me! I mouthed and then frowned, but all Emma could do was make a sad face back.
We were the red team, so we each had to strap this red belt thing around our waists and then stick a red scarf thing, the flag, in it.
Just stay away from the ball, I kept telling myself. Everything’s going to be all right.
Boy, was I wrong.
It didn’t start out too bad. Our team had the ball first, and George threw it to Wes Kinney, and he ran toward the other team, and Ken chased him and pulled his flag. I didn’t have to do anything.
Then the other team had the ball, and Ken threw it to Aziz Aboud, and then Aziz threw it back to Ken, and then Wes grabbed Ken’s flag and yelled out, “Revenge!”
Then it was our team’s turn again, and before Ms. Chen blew the whistle I saw Sydney whispering to George. Then the play started, and George pretended like he was going to throw the ball to Wes again, only he handed it to Sydney.
I was kind of running around in a circle, minding my own business, when I heard Sydney yell, “Katie! Catch!”
The next thing I knew, I saw a football flying toward my head.
“Ow!” I cried as the ball smacked me on top of the head.
Sydney giggled. “Oops! Sorry, Katie. I guess my aim is off today.”
Yeah, right, I thought as I rubbed my sore head.
“Shake it off, Katie!” Ms. Chen yelled.
See what I mean? No sympathy.
Ms. Chen blew her whistle again, and I resumed my plan of running around aimlessly.
Emma ran up to me. “Sydney so did that on purpose!” she whispered.
“I know!” I hissed back. “And she doesn’t even get in trouble!”
For the next few plays I was Sydney’s target. She kept getting the ball, and every time she got it she threw it to me no matter where I was.
“Come on, Silly Arms. Try to catch it!” George called out.
“Yeah, Silly Arms!” Sydney repeated, and she and Maggie burst into giggles.
Wes rolled his eyes. “You guys are so dumb,” he said, and I thought he was actually standing up for me. But then he said, “Why would you even throw it to Katie? She can’t catch anything. She couldn’t catch on fire if she wanted to.”
I could feel my cheeks getting red. This game was turning into my worst nightmare. When did it suddenly become “Let’s Pick on Katie Day”?
Luckily, the next time Sydney had the ball, Eddie ran up to her and grabbed her flag. Eddie is kind of a jerk, but he’s the tallest boy in middle school, and I guess he’s pretty handsome. He even grew a mustache last summer, but his mom finally made him shave it off.
Anyway, Sydney got all giggly and pushed into Eddie after he got the flag. The next time Eddie had the ball, Sydney and Maggie chased after him, and then instead of grabbing his flag, they kind of fell into him, and all three of them fell onto the floor.
Ms. Chen blew her whistle. “Break it up, people!”
From then on all Sydney and Maggie wanted was to get the boys’ attention, which was fine with me. The next time Sydney got the ball she ran right at Eddie and Aziz instead of trying to avoid them. The boys started tackling her, and Sydney started shrieking.
“My hair! You’re messing up my hair!”
Ms. Chen blew her whistle. “Eddie! Aziz! On the bench!” she yelled.
Grumbling, the two boys walked to the bleachers. I
couldn’t believe it. Sydney was the one who started everything, and once again, she didn’t get in trouble at all! I know Mom says I shouldn’t say “hate” about anyone, but I really do hate Sydney Whitman.
The rest of the game was a mess. Even though the blue team had lost Eddie and Aziz, our team couldn’t score because Sydney and Maggie kept bumping into George and Wes and the other boys and giggling.
Finally the game ended.
“Blue team wins by two points!” Ms. Chen announced, and the blue team cheered.
Wes punched me in the arm. “Thanks a lot, Skinny Arms,” he said in a mean voice.
“Yeah, thanks for making us lose, Skinny Arms,” Maggie added, and everybody on the red team laughed.
Well, everybody but George. “Hey, she’s Silly Arms, not Skinny Arms!” he yelled. I gave him a look. Then he came up to me and said, “It wasn’t your fault, Katie.” But I didn’t say anything to him. Everybody else thought I made the team lose, and that was so unfair. It was Sydney’s fault! But if I said anything, Sydney’s crew would back her up and I’d just end up looking like a sore loser.
I felt like crying, but I didn’t because I knew that would only make things worse. So I ran into the locker room without looking back.
I was going to have to get good at sports soon or the rest of my life was going to be miserable.
CHAPTER 5
Outshined by a Kindergarten Kid
The next day after school I walked home with Emma. She seemed really excited. As for me, I wasn’t as confident as I had been the other day at lunch. My stomach had been in nervous knots all day. Me, play basketball? What was I thinking?
“This is going to be fun, Katie, I promise,” Emma said. “Nothing like gym class.”
I wanted to believe her, and I knew that Emma’s brothers were basically nice. Jake was in kindergarten, and he’s really cute and sweet. Her oldest brother, Sam, is in high school, and he plays sports and works at the movie theater, and he’s smart and nice, too.
Then there’s Matt, who’s one grade above us in middle school. Alexis had a crush on him a few months ago, and I’m not sure why. I guess he’s cute, but he’s definitely not as handsome as Sam. And he’s a total slob. And sometimes he says mean things to Emma. But most of the time he’s pretty nice.
