Elfie Unperfect

by Kristin Mahoney

  “Yeah…why’d you have her last night, anyway?”

  “Jenna and I were working together. She was supposed to go home with her afterward.”

  “Hmm…and tragically, that never happened.” Will gave us a disapproving look. “Okay, fine. We’ll go to your house. Please have good snacks.”

  He took a barbecue potato chip out of Esme’s bag, turned on his heel, and went back to finish lunch with Maxine.

  Will seemed happy enough with the snack spread I put out after school: chocolate-covered almonds, mini marshmallows, cheese, crackers, and grapes. He did ask Mom if we had barbecue potato chips, though. “We’re fresh out,” she said before escaping into the office with her laptop. “Maybe next time.” (As far as I knew, Mom had never in her life purchased barbecue potato chips.)

  Will was also happy with the journaling supplies Jenna had set up at the kitchen table: stickers, colored pencils, glue sticks, and brightly colored tape for borders.

  He was not, however, happy with Goober. Every time he passed through the kitchen, Will glowered at him. But Goober didn’t care; in fact, the more Will nudged him away, the more Goober insisted on rubbing against his ankles. He finally gave up.

  “Wow, you are persistent,” he said after Goober jumped onto his lap. He looked at him for a second before lifting his hand and scratching him behind his ears. “Well, it’s a good thing you’re cute; otherwise I’d throw you out into the cold for what you did to Linda.”

  Without removing Goober from his lap, he took a handful of mini marshmallows and said, “Okay, let’s write.”

  * * *

  • • •

  We worked until right before dinnertime. We decorated the pages that still needed “a little more spark,” as Will said. Then we each wrote our own conclusion paragraphs. Will finished his just as his dad arrived to pick him up.

  After he put on his jacket in the front hallway, he looked back into the kitchen. “Hey, thanks for all the marshmallows. Want to sit with Maxine and me at lunch again tomorrow?”

  I looked at Jenna. She shrugged and nodded, but I wasn’t sure if that meant she was okay with it or not.

  “What does that mean?” I whispered.

  She laughed. “It means do whatever you want, seriously.”

  I turned back toward Will. “Okay. But I might sit with Jenna and Esme sometimes too.”

  “Ooh, me too!” he said. “Especially if they have barbecue potato chips.” He gave us a deep bow and walked out the front door.

  * * *

  • • •

  I was finishing my part of the last journal entry when Uncle Rex arrived to take Jenna home. Mom poked her head out of her office.

  “Hey, little brother! Eric is on his way home now; do you and Jenna want to stay for dinner?” Mom came into the kitchen and looked at the snack table. “We’re having waffles, probably with some crushed chocolate-covered almonds thrown into the batter.”

  “Breakfast for dinner at the Osters’ again!” Uncle Rex put his arms around Jenna’s shoulders. “What do you say, kiddo?”

  “Yes, but only if we can put marshmallows into the batter too.”

  “Fluffy chocolate almond waffles. I like the sound of that. Yeah, Teeney, we’ll stay. Thanks.”

  Mom was taking the waffle iron out of the cabinet when Dad walked in.

  “Hey, I spotted the Rex-mobile in the driveway! I hope you guys can stay for dinner.”

  “Hey, Eric. Yes, Teeney sold us on waffles.”

  “Excellent. Then you can be here for the big news.”

  “What big news?” I asked. I had no idea what Dad was talking about. I saw him and Mom trade a quick glance; they knew something I didn’t.

  “What big news?” I hated not knowing something they knew. “Tell us.”

  “Okay.” Dad sat down at the kitchen table, and Mom joined him. “We finally got an answer from the Hampshire honor code review board today. They emailed Mom and me this afternoon.”

  “Amazing how quickly it happened after we talked to Colton and his mother,” Mom said.

  “What did they say?” My stomach felt queasy; suddenly I wasn’t sure I wanted Dad to answer me.

  “They said they were sorry, and that they made a mistake. Apparently Colton and his parents met with them this morning, and Colton told them the whole story…the true version this time.”

  “So what does that mean?” Jenna asked. “Will they let Elfie back in?”

  “They will. As soon as you’re ready, Elf; they still have a space for you.”

  I couldn’t believe how quickly my next words came out.

  “I’m not ready.”

  “Well, not right this second, of course.” Mom laughed. “But maybe next week?”

  “No, I mean I’m not ever going to be ready to go back to Hampshire. I want to stay at Cottonwood.”

  I’m not sure, but I think I saw Jenna do a tiny fist pump out of the corner of my eye. Uncle Rex was smiling.

  Mom and Dad were not.

  “What do you mean?” Dad asked. “When did you decide this?”

  “I don’t know. Recently?”

  “How recently?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “It’s just that I thought you were so sure you wanted to go to Hampshire. And we fought for your case, and—”

  Mom put her hand on Dad’s arm. “I think we’re just surprised, Elf,” she said. “Can you tell us more about what prompted this decision?”

  “I guess I just like Cottonwood more now. I actually like it a lot. You might even say I’m thriving. I’m in a pretty good class, and I like Ms. Rambutan, and I like lunch, and I even liked our group project.”

  “You feel comfortable there,” Mom suggested.

  “Elfie belongs there,” Jenna chimed in. “It’s her school. It’s always been her school. We need her there.”

  “Wow, Jen, that’s really nice of you.” Uncle Rex could barely hide his shock.

  “Well, it’s true.” She noticed the grown-ups’ raised eyebrows and continued. “I know you all have this idea that Elfie and I don’t like each other or something, but we get along better than you think. I don’t want her to leave.”

  She looked at me and repeated it. “I don’t want you to leave.”

  I shook my head. “I won’t.”

  Mom looked at Dad. He threw his hands up in the air. “Well, I guess that settles it. What should we do with all that tuition money we’ll be saving?”

  “I know, I know!” Jenna raised her hand. “Elfie needs a phone.”

  It was weird. I was starting to get used to agreeing with Jenna.

  I had a feeling Mom and Dad would keep asking if I was sure about my decision after Jenna left, and they did. But I was sure. I know Hampshire Academy has a lot of things Cottonwood Elementary never will, like state-of-the-art science equipment and fancy buildings and a gigantic library. But Hampshire will also never have fascinating ants in its cafeteria, or Will and Maxine, or Ms. Rambutan. Or Jenna.

  I knew the hardest part was going to be telling Sierra, especially after she went to bat for me with the honor board. But she actually took it pretty well, even though she was disappointed at first.

  “Dang it, are you serious?” Those were her first words when I told her about my decision, one day not long afterward when we met at Mugsy’s for a pancake lunch.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “It was amazing of you to stick up for me. And I would have liked going to school with you. But I don’t really know anyone else there.”

  “I know; I get it. There are some other kids you’d like, though; we should all hang out sometime. They’re nice…not snobby like Colton and his crowd. And I really don’t get why he’s being allowed to stay at Hampshire.”

  “Yeah…well, I have a theory about that,” I said. I filled
Sierra in on the details about Colton’s mom. “I never thought I’d say this, but I feel bad for him. And he did eventually tell the truth.”

  “Wow,” Sierra said. “That is tough. Okay, I’ll try to give him some latitude. But I’m still not volunteering to be his lab partner anytime soon.” She smiled.

  “Fair enough.”

  * * *

  • • •

  Even though I felt good about my decision to stay at Cottonwood, I still have some problems, of course. I know I’ll always put pressure on myself to get good grades. But maybe they don’t always have to be perfect grades. I mean, if I could handle our egg baby crashing to the floor, I think I can handle getting a B. (Okay, okay…maybe an A-minus.)

  And I know there will always be things I really worry about. Like Uncle Rex and Aunt Steph and Jenna…and, of course, Rhoda. Sometimes at night I think about her so much that it’s hard to fall asleep. When I told Mom that, she sighed and said, “I know. Me too. We both feel helpless. But she knows we’re here for her. And sometimes it helps to do something…maybe we can bake her chocolate turtle brownies to take to her on days when she’s not feeling sick? Chocolate turtle brownies can be their own kind of medicine.”

  So we made a plan to bake something for Rhoda to deliver to her once a week. After our disastrous visit to the hospital during her chemo treatment, Mom said we could visit her at home from now on. She knew I was nervous about the possibility of seeing Colton and his mom again; I think she felt the same way. Even though they straightened things out for us at Hampshire, it would still be really awkward to have to spend time with them.

  * * *

  • • •

  I wanted to find a way to tell Ms. Rambutan I was doing better than I was when she talked to me about my character study. I wanted her to know she didn’t need to worry about me.

  I decided to add a P.S. to the final entry in the egg baby journal. I put it on a sticky note so it wouldn’t have to stay there forever; this was just between Ms. Rambutan and me.

  This is what Will, Jenna, and I wrote:

  I have heard grown-ups say that being a parent is like having your heart run around in the world, outside your body. My experience with Linda McMuffin showed me that this is true. Unfortunately, in this case, my heart was also knocked off a bookshelf by a cat. A very, very naughty cat. So my heart was literally broken. But I would still do it all over again, because Linda McMuffin was the best, smartest, most attractive and talented egg baby ever.

  —Will Haubner

  I learned that babies are a big responsibility. Also that they are extremely fragile, especially if they are eggs. Some parts of having a baby are fun, like choosing their hats and reading them stories. Other parts are really stressful, like figuring out the best way to take care of them, and trying to get your parenting partners to help you and agree with you. At first I wasn’t very excited about the egg baby project, but by the end I had fun (even though it had an unhappy ending for our group). If I ever have an egg baby again, I will make sure to keep her close to me, and I won’t let her near bookshelves or kittens.

  —Jenna Crowe

  There is a lot to think about when you have a baby, even if that baby is just an egg. Parents have to think about how to help their babies learn and grow. Of course, most importantly, parents have to keep their babies safe, and I learned the hard way that you should always be mindful of where your baby is, and whether she is in danger.

  Like I said, there’s a lot to think about when you have a baby. And I learned that parents can get distracted, probably because there is so much to think about in the world in general. For example, this year I have been thinking a lot about my babysitter, Rhoda, who is sick. And how unfair it is that someone so great has to go through something so scary. I’ve also been thinking a lot about someone in my family who is going through a divorce, and how unfair that is too.

  Lately I have also been thinking about something my mom said, that everyone you meet has a story you don’t know. And that maybe if we hear each other’s stories, we might understand each other more.

  Maybe I was thinking about some of these things when I should have been paying better attention to Linda McMuffin. But she was swiped to the floor by my kitten, and now that is part of my story too. (It’s the story I’ll tell if anyone asks why we didn’t get an A+ on this project.)

  Hopefully if I ever have an actual baby, I will remember this experience and try not to get too distracted. But I also hope that if I’m ever a real parent to a real human, I will remember that things go wrong no matter how much we plan. Part of being human is learning that it’s okay to be unperfect.

  —Elfie Oster

  And here’s what I added for Ms. Rambutan:

  Hi Ms. Rambutan—

  This note is just from me. I wanted to let you know I don’t think group projects are so bad anymore. Even though this one didn’t end the way we’d hoped, I had fun.

  Also, I know that unperfect isn’t a word. It’s imperfect. But I thought you would enjoy the irony of my unperfection.

  —Elfie

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Creating a book is a serious group project, and I am enormously thankful for the team who helped make it meaningful and fun (this is me being effusive!):

  My editor, Nancy Siscoe, whose unceasing enthusiasm and insight added energy, authenticity, and heart to Elfie’s world.

  Julia Maguire for seeing early potential in this story of a young perfectionist and helping to give it direction.

  Sarah Burnes, the most supportive counselor and sounding board.

  Dan Santat, whose work I’ve adored since the day Beekle called to me in a bookstore; it was a thrill to see your fantastic rendering of Elfie and her orbit.

  Bob Bianchini for his vision and commitment to making books look like friends you’d want to meet.

  Copyediting team Artie Bennett, Alison Kolani, Amy Schroeder, and Patricia Callahan for their vigilance in ensuring that every detail meets even Elfie-approved levels of accuracy and precision.

  “Critique Pandas” Ariel Bernstein, Ali Bovis, Katie Howes, and Emma Bland Smith; every writer should be lucky enough to have such wise advisers and cheerleaders by their side.

  “La Familia Nuclear”: Whelan, Lucy, Alice, and Sadie Mahoney. Endless gratitude for making me laugh, having buckets of patience, and keeping life interesting. (Special thanks also to Lucy for naming Linda McMuffin, and to Alice for naming Goober the kitten!)

  All the friends and family who support this process and get just as excited about my books as I do.

  Finally, to Simon Willis Purchia-McGinn, who recently made me an aunt. Every time our family sees his sweet face, we feel hope. Thank you, Simon, for inspiring us big people to work hard to make the world a little less unperfect.

  KRISTIN MAHONEY is the author of two previous books, Annie’s Life in Lists and The 47 People You’ll Meet in Middle School. Kristin lives in New Jersey with her husband, two daughters, and a sweet dog named Sadie. Her favorite insects—by far—are the Rhopalocera (look it up!).

  kristinmahoneybooks.com

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