by Rachel Vail
Now maybe they see what I mean about dogs and their teeth.
January 18, Monday
Qwerty ate up the garbage last night. Now he will have to sleep in the downstairs bathroom. So maybe I will actually be able to go to sleep again.
I could have used a solid night’s sleep last night, because today I have the dreaded playdate of doom. I just hope Xavier Schwartz’s big brother is not going to be there. His big brother is the inventor of the game called Tackle.
January 19, Tuesday
Xavier Schwartz’s big brother was there.
The good news is now Xavier Schwartz is not the Schwartz I am most afraid of.
The bad news is the game of Tackle is rougher than it sounds.
When Mom picked me up I got ready faster than ever. As we left I was saying, “Bye! Thanks! That was great! See you in school! Thanks for having me!” All the stuff Mom makes me say. But as soon as that door shut behind us and we were walking alone to our car, I turned to Mom and said, “Never send me there again.”
She could tell I meant it because she said “okay” right away, before she even asked what happened.
Or maybe she had bigger fish to fry. Qwerty got into the bathtub last night and managed to turn on the water and flood the whole room. Now they have to get the floor redone in there, Mom said. She spent the day on the Internet looking at tiles, training methods, and dog cages. Now Qwerty has to sleep in a cage in the kitchen.
I feel a little bad for him, though also I must admit a little relieved.
January 20, Wednesday
Elizabeth showed me a project she made in honor of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Day, to ask my opinion on whether it was good enough to show her teacher, Ms. Amara, because she wants Ms. Amara to be proud of her.
The picture she drew of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was pretty good, especially for a kindergartner. I told her that first, before I read what she’d written. There were a couple of problems with that part.
For one thing, Elizabeth wrote his name as “Martin the King.” And after that she just wrote “Martin” because, she said, her hand was getting tired from so many letters.
The other problem was that she wrote, “Martin the King was a hero because he fought to change a very, very stupid rule. Long, long, long ago, kids couldn’t go to schools together or sit on the bus together if they had different color eyes. Martin made them change that crazy law.”
I didn’t tell her about her mistake.
I told her the truth.
I told her I thought it was perfect and that I thought Ms. Amara would love it and that if he could read it, Martin the King would love it, too.
January 21, Thursday
I love:
3 × 8 = 24
I am in the fours group, finally!!!
So is Xavier. I guess we did learn something, in between getting smooshed into goo by his big brother.
Gianni Schicci is not in the fours group. He is the only one left in threes.
I no thank you:
Student council
Staying for after-school violin
January 22, Friday
The club that has no boys in it had a party today at lunch. They all brought in bags of pretzels and popcorn, and they shared. Also they whispered. And giggled.
The boys all sat kind of glum eating our own lunches.
Suddenly, Gianni Schicci punched me hard in the arm and asked, “Don’t you hate girls?”
The true thing I was thinking was: No, I hate people who punch me hard in the arm. But I thought that might get me punched more. It takes a brave person to stand up to a bully and tell the truth; we had just learned that this morning in our No Bullies Allowed assembly.
But I am not a brave person.
So I said, “Yeah.”
“I love girls,” Noah said with his mouth full of tuna fish.
“You are a girl,” Gianni said, and giggled. It wasn’t a happy giggle like the girls’ giggles, though.
“No,” said Noah. “I’m a boy.” Noah is not so good at recognizing sarcasm, I think. Or maybe he is a brave person.
January 23, Saturday
The good thing about basketball:
No dogs allowed in the gym
The bad thing about basketball:
Everything else
January 24, Sunday
The other good thing about basketball:
Nobody expects you to practice it on days you don’t have it even if you stink
Unlike violin.
January 25, Monday
Noah tried to play with the girls at lunch.
They didn’t let him. Then he tried to play with the boys. Gianni and Xavier said he couldn’t, because we were playing Savers of the Universe and that’s only for boys. Noah tried the “I’m a boy” argument, and then he tried the “Actually, the girls sometimes play Savers of the Universe, too” argument.
Apparently neither one was convincing.
So Noah slunk off by himself to sit on a rock.
Nobody went to sit with him because you really don’t want to get on the bad side of Xavier Schwartz and Gianni Schicci.
Noah looked really sad.
I couldn’t stand it.
So I did the probably stupidest thing I ever did in my life, which is kind of an accomplishment from a kid who suggested Rarest Pus as a class theme and also convinced his parents to buy a dog when he is absolutely terrified of dogs, so now he can’t ever sit in his own living room or anywhere in his house except his top bunk bed, which also terrifies him.
I went and sat on the rock with Noah.
January 26, Tuesday
I was right.
It was definitely my stupidest move ever.
I may as well let Qwerty gobble me up. At least I wouldn’t have to go back to school tomorrow and have another day like today.
January 27, Wednesday
Today was Montana C.’s birthday. Her mom came in with a cake and we all sang. Ms. Termini even smiled at her and gave her an extra Superstar.
Then Ms. Termini took out her hippopotamus puppet and made Montana C. sit on a stool in the front of the class, and each of us had to say why we were happy that Montana C. had been born.
The first time Ms. Termini did that tradition, back in September for Montana B.’s birthday, we were all totally freaked out. By now we are used to it.
Here are some things people said:
I’m glad Montana C. was born because she is very smart and always willing to help other people understand stuff. (That was from a girl named Willow.)
I’m glad Montana C. was born because she’s fast, so our team won in gym. (That was Xavier Schwartz.)
I’m glad Montana C. was born because she’s fun. (That was me. And then I almost threw up.)
At lunch Montana C. let me and Noah play with her and Daisy.
January 28, Thursday
Now Xavier Schwartz and Gianni Schicci hate me more than ever.
They said Montana C. is my girlfriend.
I didn’t even bother pointing out that you can’t have a girlfriend in third grade.
I just went to student council and voted that yes there should be Pajama Day in April. Why not? It’s not like things could get worse.
January 29, Friday
It snowed!
And, after they gave us the usual boring speech about how we’re not allowed to throw snowballs except against the wall, someone could get hurt, blah blah blah, they let us have an extra-long recess to play in it! The third and fourth graders all got to go out on the lower playground for a full hour.
At first we were all just running around like lunatics. But soon people started making snowballs. Noah said to me, “Uh-oh. This could get ugly.”
I nodded. Some of those fourth graders are pretty huge. And they were grabbing chunks of ice.
Noah and I stayed as far away from them as we could. We were throwing snowballs at the wall like we were supposed to, but Noah is even worse at throwing than I am. One of his hit a
fourth grader named Thor on the leg.
Suddenly a gang of huge fourth graders were chasing us with their ice balls, and Thor pitched one right into Noah’s head. Noah fell smashing down to the ground.
Every third grader crowded around Noah to see if he was okay and scream at the fourth-grade bullies. Daisy walked Noah to the nurse while Xavier Schwartz,Gianni Schicci,Montana C., and I pelted those jerks with as many snowballs as we could.
January 30, Saturday
Dad had a talk with me on our way to basketball, about getting sent to the principal for the second time in my life.
He said he was proud of me for standing up for my friend.
I just said thanks but I was proud, too. We all were, I could tell, from how me and Montana C. and Xavier Schwartz and Gianni Schicci were all smiling at each other while we sat in the bad-kid chairs outside the principal’s office.
We should have used our words, the principal said. He did say we were good not to use ice balls in revenge, and that the fourth graders were in much bigger trouble.
Afterward, Xavier Schwartz whispered to me, “Words are good but snowballs are better.”
January 31, Sunday
Gingy and Poopsie came over for dinner.
Mom made me play my violin for them.
They looked like it hurt their teeth.
But afterward Poopsie gave me a dollar. For the concert, he said.
I think it was really for playing only two songs instead of all five.
February 1, Monday
A good thing about basketball:
It is not push-ups
I no thank you gym class. Push-ups are ridiculous. It is just relaxing, interrupted, over and over again.
February 2, Tuesday
Valentine’s Day is coming early this year. That sounds impossible but it is not. Valentine’s Day this year is on a Sunday, and it is the Sunday at the beginning of winter break. So we are doing Valentine’s Day celebrations on February 12.
Ten days.
The bad news: no store-boughts allowed in Ms. Termini’s class, and no candy, even if it is from your own candy store.
The worse news: You have to make one for every kid in the whole darn class. Plus, because she is Ms. Termini, there is homework about it. The valentines can’t just say “Happy V-Day. From, Justin.” We have to write the person’s name in our best cursive writing on an index card and then, still in our best cursive writing, write a compliment that is true but also nice.
One compliment for every kid in the class.
There are some kids I am going to have a real challenge with.
And not just because we didn’t learn how to do Xs in cursive yet.
February 3, Wednesday
I walked the dog.
I totally walked the dog.
Well, I mean, Mom held the leash most of the time. But I held it with her for a while, and even when Qwerty yanked, I didn’t fall down and I didn’t cry.
Mom said, “See? Not so bad, huh, Justin?”
But her eyes said “proud.”
February 4, Thursday
Noah wants to buy chocolates for Ms. Burns for Valentine’s Day. He has over 11 dollars saved up. He could buy a medium red heart with truffles if he borrows three more dollars from me.
I am not being greedy. I honestly think it is a bad idea.
For so many reasons.
Not just because of what Xavier Schwartz and Gianni Schicci would say about him.
February 5, Friday
I got into the sevens of times tables. That is the highest group. Also I got a Superstar for moving up so fast. It was not that hard. The only hard one for me was 3 × 8 = 24, and I will never forget that one as long as I live.
And even 3 × 8 = 24 was not the hard part. It was being asked it with everybody looking at me, imagining how I would feel if I messed up, and then realizing that while I was imagining messing up, I was not answering, and then it was too late. Slow is the same as a mess-up in times tables.
What I needed was a trick for not thinking of messing up. Once I worked out the trick, it was smooth sailing for me and times tables.
This is my trick:
Speed.
I go over my flash cards of the times tables I’m up to so many times in my bed that the answer comes as fast as the second syllable of my name. I can’t not say it. So 24 comes after 3 × 8 as fast as Tin after Jus. I don’t have to think at all.
Maybe that’s a dumb trick but it works for me.
February 6, Saturday
I think my finger is broken.
It is at least jammed.
Gianni Schicci threw the basketball so hard at me when all I was doing was running to get out of the way. If I’d wanted him to throw it to me for some reason, I would have said, “Here!” Did anybody hear me yell “Here!” on the basketball court?
Ever?
Noah sat with his arm around me on the bench while I held the melting ice on my finger, and the tears inside my eyes. He only jumped up to cheer when we won. For a kid who has no interest in sports, Noah is sure an enthusiastic cheerer.
February 7, Sunday
It’s not broken.
It didn’t even manage a decent bruise.
So frustrating.
Because nobody believes me that I can’t write the compliments now. A finger can be badly hurt without a bruise.
Five kids down, seventeen more compliments to go.
And speaking of compliments, I walked Qwerty all by myself. Dad came along, but I held the leash by myself. And I threw Qwerty a cookie, too.
I only freaked out a little.
I think I deserved a little more of a compliment than I got for all that.
February 8, Monday
Elizabeth bought valentines. She is deciding who will get the cutest one. She has three boyfriends now.
Mom told her there is no such thing as boyfriends or girlfriends in elementary school. Just friends.
Elizabeth smiled her angel smile and said, “I know that, Mommy, but I have three boyfriends anyway.”
I told her I thought Buckey was her boyfriend and that she was planning to marry him.
She looked at me with a pity face and explained with a patient sigh that she was younger when she said that, and for now she is keeping her options open.
Mom and I cracked up about that the rest of the night.
February 9, Tuesday
Nobody told me anything about a violin recital.
Dad said my least favorite thing after hurry, which is “calm down, Justin, calm down.”
But he is not the one who doesn’t know how to hold the bow right or get the violin to do anything other than scream in pain, and then be forced to torture an innocent musical instrument in front of the whole world, is he?
And he is also not the one who has to think of a true but nice compliment for Gianni Schicci and one for Xavier Schwartz, too.
He thinks running a candy store just before Valentine’s Day is stressful? He should try third grade just before Valentine’s Day.
February 10, Wednesday
Well, it’s not great, but here is what I came up with:
Gianni has a way of finding the humor in situations where other people might not find any.
Xavier is very strong for his size and sees more in people than they see in themselves.
At least I’m done.
February 11, Thursday
It is hard to think about anything except Valentine’s Day. Especially because it is the busiest time of year at our store.
But also because I keep wondering:
What will people say about me?
February 12, Friday
Here are my favorite Valentine’s notes that I got:
1. Montana B.: Justin is nice because he is not mean.
2. Willow: Justin is a boy who is funny without using bathroom words.
3. Bartholomew Wiggins: I think Justin K. has a good heart, an original way of thinking about things, and more imaginative creativity
than he lets most people see.
4. Gianni Schicci: Justin Case is the funniest boy in third grade. Rarest Pus rules!
5. Carlos: I like Justin because he is frecklier than me.
6. Montana C.: Justin K. is a good person who stands up for his friends and little sister, makes people feel happy, and is also a fast runner.
7. Penelope Ann Murphy: Justin waited with me once when I had a bloody nose in kindergarten at the nurse’s office. I will never forget his niceness and that he has never teased me about it even though I cried.
8. Xavier Schwartz: If you ever were in a bad mess, the kid you would want by your side is Justin Case.
February 13, Saturday
I keep reading my valentines over and over.
February 14, Sunday
Busiest day of the year at our store.
If I never see another shiny red heart or another chocolate truffle, that is just fine with me.
