Project (Un)Popular Book #1
Page 25
“I can’t do this right now,” my mom said. “I need to get to the bank before it closes.”
Then she grabbed her purse and looked at me with her disappointed face again. “Piper, the soup is in the fridge. Perry, there’s a burrito in the freezer you can heat up.”
And I knew my mom must be furious with me. Because that burrito had been in our freezer all summer. It was probably a life-risking event to even heat it in the microwave.
Slam.
“I don’t know what to tell you,” Piper said. “Track was awesome. We ate a ton of junk food and got to ride the bus to tournaments all over the state.”
I already knew Piper’s life was better than mine. It always had been. This wasn’t what I needed to hear. I swallowed hard and held back tears. Piper went into the kitchen and ladled a bowl of soup for me from her giant plastic container.
“Here,” Piper said. “That burrito looks lethal.”
I felt a tear roll down my cheek. After the terrible day I’d had, being instructed by my own mother to eat deadly food really broke my heart.
“If I were you, I’d stop feeling sorry for myself and get on the phone with Venice,” Piper said.
“Don’t you want to talk to me?” I asked. Because I thought Piper might have some good advice.
“I’ve actually got a study group tonight. It’s for my English class.”
“So you’re leaving me?” I said.
“I can’t fail out of college,” Piper said.
She handed me the bowl of soup and kissed the top of my head. “Don’t give up yet. People might actually vote for Derby for the What’s Hot section.”
But I just rolled my eyes when Piper said this. Because it felt like an empty and untrue thing to say.
“That picture is so weird that it’s sort of amazing. Plus, there’s a snake in it. I mean, Bobby even liked it.”
“He did?” I asked.
“Stranger things have happened,” Piper said.
I watched her carry her soup container to the door.
“Say something else to cheer me up,” I said.
Piper smiled as she opened the door. “That photo shows pure and genuine fear. His face is priceless. And the prissy girl next to him really accentuates his sincerity. It’s not all bad.”
The burning sensation behind my eyeballs that was making me cry started to fade.
“I just hate to see Yearbook dragging you through the bummer pit,” Piper said as she slipped out the door. “If Derby wins, yay for nerds. If he doesn’t, then that’s life.”
Piper made everything sound so simple.
I got up from the couch and opened the cupboard where my mom kept a list of important phone numbers. Toward the bottom I saw Venice’s mom’s name, Lola Garcia. I grabbed the kitchen phone and called the number.
“Hello?” a voice said. It sounded like Victor.
“Is Venice there?” I asked.
“Venice!” a voice shouted. “Phone!”
I could hear the sound of footsteps running across a linoleum floor.
“Hello?” she said.
“I’m not going to give up,” I said. “That picture isn’t as bad as it looks.”
“Victor actually loves that picture. He said it looks raw and hilarious.”
And I didn’t even know whether looking raw was a good thing or a bad thing.
“Maybe Derby can win this,” I said.
“It’s a long shot,” Venice added. “I mean, his face does look weird.”
Mitten Man weaved between my legs and I picked him up so he could walk around on the counter and lick the butter. Ever since I’d started Yearbook and tried to change how middle school worked, I’d really neglected him.
“But the photo is hot. People are looking at it. Everybody knows who Derby is. Even college kids,” I said.
“You’re right,” Venice said.
“This election could change everything.”
“And Javier seems like he’s going to keep Anya in her place.”
I paced in the kitchen. “Our lives might not be as terrible as they feel.”
“Friday is going to be huge,” Venice said.
And I knew she was right. Because that was the day of the election.
“What if he wins?” I asked.
“Then we don’t stop,” Venice said.
“We’ll find other nerds,” I said.
“We’ll get their pictures in the yearbook,” Venice said.
“Will Javier let us do that?” I asked.
We both paused. Leo was such good friends with Javier. We could probably convince Javier to do anything.
“I feel hopeful,” Venice said in a happy voice.
“I feel that way too,” I said.
Mitten Man had eaten way too much of the butter, so I picked him up and held him to my chest. My life wasn’t as terrible as I had thought it was. This could work. Rocky Mountain Middle School might change. We didn’t have to be stuck with what we had.
“Derby can do this,” Venice said. “Especially if he wears normal pants and shows off his butt more. Do you think I should tell him that?”
Wow. I wanted Venice to feel upbeat about stuff, but I didn’t want her to lose her mind. “At this stage, it’s too risky to give anyone a butt compliment.”
“You’re right,” Venice said. “You’re totally right.”
I heard Mrs. Garcia calling for Venice.
“Gotta go!” Venice slammed down the phone.
It didn’t bother me that she’d basically hung up on me, because I didn’t think she was technically allowed to talk to me. I thought of something else I needed to do. I grabbed a pair of scissors from the junk drawer and headed to my room.
I pulled off my Hamburg Hoodie and tried to ignore all the orange fuzz balls it had left on my T-shirt underneath. Then I didn’t even hesitate. I started cutting it into ribbons. Piper was right. Some clothes were cursed. And the whole reason I had even bought this hoodie was because other kids were wearing them. And Piper was also right about me picking the wrong color. Other than sunsets and soda, I didn’t even like to see the color orange. Suddenly, it was as if my hoodie was a symbol. It wasn’t who I really was at all. It wasn’t even close. And wearing it had made me feel like a fake. A phony. A fraud. And this wasn’t how I wanted to feel. This wasn’t who I wanted to be.
After I destroyed it, I wadded the shredded strips into a ball and tossed it up in the air. Mitten Man turned into a wild beast and dove at several pieces. Clearly, I should have done this for him weeks ago. As I watched Mitten Man remain in attack mode and jump around my room, I kept picturing that photo of Piper on our wall. Those things mattered. Everybody should have a frameworthy moment in middle school. Even the nerds. And when those nerds were old and in college and looking at those photos, I wanted them to feel the same way Piper did when she looked at her photo. Happy.
Couldn’t Venice and I do that? I mean, it was the right thing to do, wasn’t it? And we both wanted this so bad. And so did other people. Like Drea Quan. The longer I thought about it, the more certain I became. Having already faced what we’d faced in Yearbook, and dealt with what we’d dealt with in the first month of middle school, if anyone could fix this situation, it was me and Venice Garcia.
Acknowledgments
I am very lucky. So many people helped me make this book a book. Thank you, Sara Crowe, for always being there, and for encouraging me to quit drinking diet soda. And thank you to my brilliant editor, Wendy Loggia, who gently guided this book into a much better version of itself. I’m serious when I end my emails to you saying “I love your brain.” So many talented people at Random House made sure this book looked amazing, and I appreciate all they’ve done, especially Kate Gartner. Buckets of thanks go to my husband, Brian Evenson, for providing the time I needed to make writing possible. And thanks to my son, Max, for helping me stay in shape by mercilessly requesting that I chase him around the table, down the hallway, into the kitchen, and back to the table. I�
�d also like to thank my teachers at North Bonneville Junior High (now known as Rocky Mountain Middle School). It’s been many, many years since I walked those hallways, but they still live inside me, and in my stories.
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About the Author
Kristen Tracy is the author of many popular novels. She grew up in Idaho on a country road mostly populated by cows, but now she lives with her family in the popular state of California. Visit her at kristentracy.com (it will make her feel popular).