Project (Un)Popular Book #1

by Kristen Tracy

  Mrs. Esposito leaned forward even more. She was basically teetering on the edge of our wingback chair. “I don’t want anybody making my son look like a clown.”

  And I sort of felt like telling her about the outfit Derby had worn a couple of days ago and the coma-fighting cookie crumbs in his pocket. Because maybe he’d hidden that in a backpack too. Because, drama assignment or not, that definitely felt like a clowny outfit. But I couldn’t figure out how to bring that up without sounding mean. So I tried to ease her worries.

  “Nobody is going to make Derby look like a clown,” I said. “I like Derby. I really do think he’s interesting. And I want other kids to see that too.”

  And then things got really awkward, because her chin trembled and her eyes looked extra wet and I thought she was going to cry. “Do you need a tissue?” I asked, looking around for my mom. Because she really, really, really should have been back by now.

  Then I felt something I didn’t expect. I felt myself getting hugged. It was so weird getting hugged by another person’s mom. It really caught me off guard. One moment I was standing in front of her. The next moment I could smell her deodorant and mint gum and then her buttons bumped into my face. But that wasn’t even the craziest thing that happened. As unbelievable as it sounds, something even more shocking happened. My hug reflexes kicked in and I embraced her back. It was nuts. Mrs. Esposito and I were hugging in my living room. She was happy that I was being kind to her son. Except that wasn’t the exact truth.

  And as she hugged me I was hit by an awful realization. The exact truth was that I had been using Derby to break up Venice and Leo. The exact truth was that I wasn’t being a very good person, even though Mrs. Esposito thought I was. The exact truth was that I was faking roughly 60 percent of my life. And realizing the exact truth made me feel like a rotten person. I mean, in that moment, I felt totally unlike myself.

  But how could I fix any of this now? Was there even a solution? I thought about all the stuff I’d done. Wasn’t it technically still in the planning phase? Wasn’t it possible to actually do what Venice and Leo thought we were doing? Maybe all I needed to do was talk to Anya. If I could convince her to include Derby in the What’s Hot section, wouldn’t that solve most of my problems? I mean, I still had to put up with Leo and figure out what was going on with Hayes. But maybe Piper could give me advice with that stuff. My life had one giant obstacle. And I needed to do whatever it took to make Anya say yes to putting Derby in that section seriously. It was time for him to be popular.

  My mom and Derby walked through the front door laughing. I quickly moved away from Mrs. Esposito.

  “He’s letting you borrow his brush pen and his special scissors,” my mom said.

  I was sort of relieved that I didn’t have to try to use regular scissors, because I’d heard that somebody last year got vicious blisters trying to make this map.

  “If you’ve got any questions, you can call me,” Derby said. “Just make sure you stack everything and line up your canyon before you start gluing.”

  “Right,” I said.

  “It was really great to meet you,” Mrs. Esposito said as she stood up.

  “You don’t need to hurry off,” my mom said.

  But really, they did. Because I had a bunch of stuff I needed to do. I had to get in touch with Anya and make her change her mind about Derby. And I realized what would really help was if Derby was starting to become popular already. So I needed to talk to Venice and figure out a way to take Derby’s picture that would improve his life. I knew if we did something cool and dramatic and other people saw us through the windows, it could improve his social standing immediately. And we needed to secure some backup clothes in case he brought terrible clothes. And we probably needed some cool props. My mind was racing with ideas on how to make Derby hot enough for Anya and her precious What’s Hot section. And he needed to get out of my house immediately so I could act on them.

  “Bye!” I said. “Thanks for the craft supplies!”

  And I waved at them with a bunch of energy, hoping that would make them leave quicker.

  My mom frowned at me a little bit. But I didn’t let that bother me. Because she didn’t understand how much everything had shifted at this exact moment in my life. Piper was wrong. I didn’t have to wait a year to fix the yearbook. Derby was the ticket. I had a huge project on my hands, but this could work. Derby Esposito deserved a spot. And I could make it happen.

  The Gym

  Anya never texted me back when I told her we needed to talk. Even when I used a fire emoji three times followed by exclamation points. It wasn’t until Saturday that she finally bothered to respond.

  Anya:

  At gym. Deltoid day.

  I didn’t even know what that was supposed to mean. Was it a joke?

  Me

  Need to talk super bad. About Derby.

  And I didn’t want to say too much more, because I didn’t want her to shoot down my idea. I wanted her to hear me out. Because I knew deep down that she had a heart and that I could convince her that putting Derby in What’s Hot, even though he wasn’t hot, was the right thing to do.

  Anya

  Is this an emergency?

  And I didn’t even hesitate when I answered.

  Me

  YES!

  Anya

  With Victor. Come find me.

  Me

  Where?

  Anya

  Gym. Duh.

  My mom wasn’t thrilled when I asked her to drop me off at the gym. But she had to go to the post office anyway, so it didn’t take too much to convince her to let me hitch a ride.

  “If you’re interested in working out, we can buy you a DVD,” my mom said. “At your age, gyms are a rip-off.”

  And before I got out of the car I explained to her one more time that I wasn’t interested in sweating to dance music in public. “Yeah, I’m only here to talk with Anya.”

  “Your relationship with her has really blossomed,” my mom said.

  And I didn’t bother to correct her, because in Science Ms. Stott had taught us that bacteria can blossom and cloud water and destroy fish and plants and basically everything it touches. So I thought that word sort of worked in describing my relationship with Anya.

  “It has,” I said as I slammed the door.

  “I’ll be back in a half hour,” my mom said.

  And I said, “Okay,” and ran inside. Because I was hoping a half hour was enough time to change Anya’s mind.

  I’d only been to a gym one time in my life. Venice and I had dropped off a ham sandwich for Victor. I’d only made it to the front desk, but I remembered the feeling of humidity and intensity. And I remembered the clinking sound the weights made when people set them down on the metal racks. When I entered the gym this time, looking for Anya, I arrived at the same front desk and felt the same humidity and intensity and heard the same clinking sounds. Looking around, taking it in, all the sameness and spandex felt haunting.

  “Can I help you?” the girl behind the counter asked. She had fluffy blond hair and was wearing a sweat bandana. I must’ve looked totally lost because she said, “Are you looking for your mom?”

  “No,” I said. “She’s at the post office. I’m looking for my friend.”

  “Do you want me to page her?” she asked, picking up a phone.

  And that did seem like the quickest way to find Anya. So I said, “Sure. Her name is Anya O’Shea.”

  Then the gym music stopped playing and there was a soft beeping sound and then the blond woman said in a voice so loud it felt like the beginning stages of an earthquake, “Anya O’Shea. You’ve got a friend at the front desk.” And then there was a terrible pause where everybody looked at me. “I repeat. Anya O’Shea. Your friend is at the front desk.”

  “Thanks,” I said. But really I was worried that maybe I should’ve just walked around and looked for her in the weight room. Because maybe she didn’t want her name blasted through the gym’s speaker syst
em.

  It didn’t take long before Anya and Victor emerged from a giant mirrored room filled with stair-stepping machines. I was actually glad I’d paged her, because I didn’t think I would’ve checked that room. Because the door leading into it was dripping with water and it felt unsanitary to touch a door handle that had unidentifiable moisture on it.

  “You didn’t need to page me,” Anya said, looking a little upset.

  “Hey, Perry,” Victor said, smiling at me while looking smoking hot in black shorts and a gray T-shirt.

  “Are you Anya’s trainer?” I asked. Because I really felt like I needed to make sure their relationship was only professional. Because if it was more than that, I thought Venice should know.

  “Every Saturday,” Victor said. “We’re getting her into fighting shape.”

  And that was pretty alarming news. Because who was Anya preparing to fight?

  “Let’s not talk about me,” Anya said. “Victor, could you go grab us some water?”

  “Sure,” Victor said. “What about you, Party? Do you want any?” he asked, smiling and winking at me.

  “Um,” I said. “I’m okay.” Because I was totally thrown by him calling me Party.

  Victor walked off and Anya punched my arm a little. “You’re acting like a total nutzoid. What’s going on?”

  “Did Victor just call me Party?” I asked. “I thought that’s what the design squad called me.”

  “Nicknames spread,” Anya said. “So be quick. Tell me. What’s happening with Derby? I need to get back to my cardio.”

  Looking at Anya in her white-and-black spandex workout clothes, I felt suddenly nervous. I really hoped I could convince her that Derby belonged in the What’s Hot section.

  “I think we should put him in it,” I said, looking Anya directly in the pink and somewhat sweaty face.

  “In what?” Anya asked.

  I couldn’t believe that she didn’t understand what I was saying. “In the section.”

  “In the What’s Hot section?” Anya asked, opening her eyes super wide.

  I nodded. I felt relieved that she could picture it.

  “You want to feature Derby Esposito in the What’s Hot section in my yearbook?” Anya asked. She looked away from me and glanced at the clock. “You seriously tracked me down at the gym to ask me this?”

  Then I started getting super nervous that things were going worse than I’d imagined.

  “Listen,” I explained. “His mom came to my house yesterday.”

  She held her hand out in front of my face. “Stop,” she said. “I told you to keep his mom out of this.”

  “But that was impossible, because of what happened to Rose’s front teeth last year,” I tried to explain.

  Anya rolled her eyes. “That happened forever ago. That’s ancient history. I can’t believe you’re bringing that up.”

  I could see Victor coming toward us. I’d forgotten how sculpted he looked. I mean, I could see all the muscles that made up his quadriceps flex when he walked.

  “I just need you to say that you’ll think about it,” I offered.

  Anya looked at me like she hated me. Which seemed really unfair, because I’d sacrificed a ton of my free time to help her.

  “This isn’t how life works, Perry,” Anya said pretty quickly and quietly as Victor approached. “An unpopular sixth grader doesn’t show up and start making crazy demands during a popular eighth grader’s fitness session. I mean, I’m paying by the minute for this experience.”

  “Right, I’m sorry,” I said. It was weird to me that Anya had forgotten that she’d asked me to find her here. “But Derby is a nice kid and it would be a nice thing to do. Please?” I begged. “Just consider it.”

  Victor tossed a clean towel to Anya and she draped it over her shoulders. “I can’t consider that,” Anya said. “Not ever.”

  “Are you guys talking about Yearbook?” Victor asked. “Venice is so stoked about shooting the football game against Sugar City next week.”

  I was surprised to hear this, because this game wasn’t on the shoot calendar. We were scheduled to shoot the game against North Fremont in two weeks. Had Anya changed the calendar?

  “She’s great at action shots,” Anya said, sounding really sincere.

  But really, that was what Anya had said about me. She’d said she liked Venice’s black-and-white shots best.

  “All right,” Victor said. “When you’re finished, come back to the treadmill. Twenty minutes left. And bye, Party.”

  Anya didn’t waste much more time with me.

  “We’re done,” Anya said as she began to walk away. Then she stopped and turned around and pointed her water bottle at me and wagged it. “No, we’re not.” It felt hostile and I wasn’t prepared for it. “Why are you doing this?” she asked.

  I didn’t even know what she wanted to hear. “You told me to come to the gym and find you. And so—”

  “No,” Anya said, shaking her head. “Why are you trying to ruin the What’s Hot section? Was this your whole plan all along? To trick me into trusting you so you could just shove any no-name nerd into one of the most important features? Were you only pretending to be my friend? Was that part of your plan too? Seriously. How fake are you?”

  I felt stunned by what was happening. Because I hadn’t planned anything. I was probably more surprised than Anya that I was standing here in this situation. “Um, I’m not fake anymore,” I tried to explain. “It’s just that I think people are way too mean to Derby. I want to do something nice for him.”

  Anya looked madder than I’d ever seen her before. She tightened her fingers into fists and then released them. “Well, I’m not going to ruin the What’s Hot section because you feel like doing a favor for a dweeb,” she said. Then it was like she was so disgusted with me she couldn’t even look at me anymore. She turned her head to stare at the clock. “Baylor Kitts is going to be picked for the What’s Hot section for sixth grade. It makes total sense. She’s got about a gazillion signatures on her cast. People love her. Sabrina and Sailor and I decided on her last week.”

  I felt like I’d been punched in the face. Baylor Kitts was a rich girl who rode horses. I mean, I think she owned three. And she wasn’t very interesting. I didn’t think she was hot. She was kind of a snob who sometimes hung around Sabrina.

  “I’ll see you Monday,” Anya said.

  “But I don’t want Baylor,” I said. “She doesn’t represent the sixth grade. She’s way too into horses. And dressage. And—”

  Anya flipped around and her face had an expression I’d never seen before. It wasn’t angry and pinched and stressed. It was eye-rolly and annoyed and dunzo. That was right, I could see it in her face: Anya O’Shea was done with me.

  “That’s it. I’ve never done this before, but I’m taking away your nickname.”

  “Huh?” I said. Everything was happening so fast now that I felt disoriented.

  “You are no longer Party. Every year, the eighth graders name one member of the Yearbook staff Party, and as a surprise when we turn in the first signature we throw her a personal party and get her a cake and give her gifts. This year it was you. But I’m taking it back.”

  “You guys were going to throw me a party?” I asked. Because that revelation totally blew my mind. I mean, I understood the nickname Party now. And I didn’t want to lose it.

  “Javier is the new Party,” she said. “Now I’ve really got to go.”

  I watched her stomp off and swing open the sweaty door. This wasn’t how I expected things to go. I mean, I had really thought Anya would be more reasonable. Did she really hate nerds? Why was she so interested in keeping them down? Was she insecure? Or at her core did she have a snob heart? Was she really done with me? I didn’t know. And I wasn’t sure how to figure out all the answers.

  Walking out to the gym parking lot, looking for my mom’s car, I made myself a promise. I would stop caring about what Anya thought. Seriously. It didn’t matter anymore. I mean, mid
dle school no longer made any sense to me. Popular kids were getting more popular, and there wasn’t any reason for this to be happening. Why couldn’t Drea Quan get a boost? Why did all the girls think Rocky DeBoom was cute? Why hadn’t anybody ever stuffed annoying Leo into a trash can? It was crazy. None of it made sense anymore. Baylor Kitts didn’t deserve any more popularity. It was time for Derby to get his turn.

  The Derby Shoot

  On Sunday night, I felt like I knew what I needed to do. I decided to pretend like the gym never happened and to press forward with the make-Derby-popular plan. Venice and I were totally on the same page when it came to Derby. Except when I told her we needed a fake fur coat.

  “That might make him look like a dweeb,” Venice said.

  But I didn’t have a ton of time to fight with her. I had to go to bed in thirty minutes. Plus, my parents thought I was in my bedroom dutifully constructing my topographic map. If they found me on my phone, they might take it away. They could be cruel like that.

  “We need to think about what Derby wants,” I explained.

  “He wants to look like a dweeb?” she said.

  And then I realized it was time for me to get bossy with Venice. And also make Venice get bossy with Leo. I had to stop pretending everything was cool between us. It was time I got real. “Listen, I’m going to email you the exact list of everything we need tomorrow. You need to call Leo and make him bring all this stuff.”

  Venice didn’t answer me.

  “Listen,” I repeated in a very serious voice. “I wasn’t going to tell you this, but I feel I have to now. Derby and I have done more than talk on the phone. He came to my house last week.”

  “What?” Venice asked.

  I thought that would shock her to her senses.

  “He basically demanded that we take his picture from the top of a ladder and use a coat just like we did with Fletcher,” I said.

  “How did he know we did that?”