Starring Jules (As Herself)

by Beth Ain

  I am definitely surprised. “We’re going to have to eat the Best Try Ever section,” I say.

  “You threw up?” Teddy asks, his eyes popping out of his head.

  “I knew it,” Charlotte says, “I knew it when she said her favorite food was meatballs.”

  “I didn’t throw up,” I yell, interrupting everyone. “I just . . . spit up. But then I sang my jingle and I danced and I cha-cha-chaed and Colby Kingston clapped and said I was something. And even though I know that something probably means that she thinks I am crazy and not at all the right girl to be the Swish girl, I still think she liked me and that I wasn’t totally and completely horrible.” I take a deep breath. “I just went with it,” I say, looking at Elinor, who smiles a big smile at me, and I am so happy that she is the kind of person who shows up for a party for a person who was such a jerk the day before.

  “Yay!” Big Henry cheers. And then he runs toward me and before I know it, he has tackled me with a giant Big Henry hug and we are on the floor, which is where I always end up when Big Henry is involved.

  Everyone is laughing all around me and my parents are clapping and I feel very happy.

  But then the phone rings. “Get it,” I shout at my mom from underneath my brother. I stand up and pull Big Henry up with me.

  She hurries to the phone and says, “Hello, home of the not-Swish girl.” I almost fall back down when she does this.

  “Oh, hi, Colby. Yes, Jules was just telling us all about it. Mmm-hmm . . . okaaay . . . really?” I watch and listen and I feel Elinor take my hand and then I feel Charlotte take my other hand and I am surprised that Charlotte does this but then I am even more surprised when Teddy takes Charlotte’s hand and she doesn’t throw Teddy out the window.

  We all just stand and wait, holding hands in a row like we are waiting for Red Rover to come and knock us all over.

  “Well, sure, I don’t know. Sounds interesting,” my mom says. “Yep, will do. Thanks so much.” And click, the call is over.

  I let go of the Red Rover line and cover my ears.

  “You are going to want to hear this, Jules.”

  I take my hands away and close my eyes instead.

  “So,” she says, “you didn’t get the commercial. But —”

  “But what?” Charlotte yells.

  “They want you to be in a movie.”

  “A what?” I say, opening my eyes wide.

  “A movie. A spy movie, actually,” my mom says, shaking her head.

  The room is silent.

  “Jules is going to be a star?” Charlotte asks.

  “I don’t know,” my dad says. “Is that what Jules wants?”

  I am speechless, like the night I met Colby Kingston. Everyone is looking at me.

  I raise my hand and my mom smiles at me.

  “Yes, Jules,” my mom says.

  “Mrs. Bloom, do I have to eat something orange in the movie?”

  “I doubt it,” my mom says.

  “Smell something orange?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Wear something orange?”

  “Jules.”

  “Then, yes,” I say. “I think I would like to be a star.”

  “Let’s start with a small part in a spy movie and see where we go, okay?”

  “Okay!”

  Then we all cheer and we eat cake and I don’t even picture myself doing anything else other than this.

  This is better than pretend.

  It is late at night and I can hear Paddington through the curtain. I have a new list to make. Secrets of the Not-Swish Girl (I am practicing being secretive for the spy movie):

  1. I am secretly glad that I am not the Swish girl and that the pinstripe-and-bow-tie-wearing boy is the new face of Swish Mouthwash for kids. (I was right!)

  2. I am also secretly happy that it rained so much today because Charlotte told me that in the movies, something dramatic always happens when it rains, and it did! I got a part in a real hollywood movie! Charlotte was right! and the rain also means that the worms will come now and there will be water overflowing in their swimming pool so they will make giganto-huge splashes when they fly off the high-dive and it will be just like in the movies. all around, people will cheer (even new-Charlotte), and the birds will chirp, and the flowers will bloom -

  I stop writing, put my pen down, and run into the living room. “I’ve got it!” I yell.

  “You’ve got what?” my dad asks. He and my mom are still cleaning up the not-the-new-Swish-girl party. I walk over to the can of red paint and dip the brush in it. There is a wide-open spot on the wall and I use it all. In the biggest letters I know how to make, I write BLOOM! Just like that. With an exclamation point.

  My dad stands up and picks me up. “I love it,” he says.

  “It’s perfect, Jules,” my mom says.

  I let them hug me for a while because it feels so nice and because it means I am staying up even later, which means writing on the wall is an even better way to put off bedtime than the Great Toothbrush Challenge.

  And then I say, “Good, now that that’s settled, let’s talk about the menu. I’m thinking minty-chocolate candies ought to be served with everything.”

  “I’m thinking you and your minty-fresh thoughts ought to get back into bed,” my mom says.

  “Minty-fine idea,” I say.

  “Good night, Jules,” my dad says.

  “Good night, Mr. and Mrs. Bloom,” I say.

  “Thanks for letting me be . . . well, letting me be me.”

  “Thanks for being you,” my mom says.

  “You’re welcome,” I say.

  I hop into my room, but I peek back around the corner and listen to what my parents say. I have to strain to hear their whispers. What’s that? Did I hear them say that doing this spy movie means no camp this summer? I do a silent song and dance in the dark. Ooh, I think love spying already . . .

  The End

  For a sneak peek at Jules’s

  next starring role, turn the page!

  There is nothing better than the few seconds before an announcement. Ms. Leon will probably just say that we are supposed to bring in all box tops by Friday, but for this one second before she says that, I picture the word ANNOUNCEMENT all lit up behind Ms. Leon, and then I picture her saying, “Charlotte Pinkerton, you’ve learned all you can for this year, so pack up your backpack and we’ll see you next year!” I know very well she won’t say this, but at least for a few seconds I get to pretend the announcement has nothing at all to do with box tops.

  “I have decided that for this year’s moving-up ceremony we will put on a little show. ¡Un espectáculo!”

  An idea pops right into my head and comes flying out of my mouth as I shoot my hand in the air. “I want to be the director!” This is the first time in my whole life I have ever raised my hand without making extra sure I knew exactly what would come out of my mouth.

  I feel everyone’s eyes on me, but especially Charlotte’s. “I am surprised to hear this, Jules!” Ms. Leon says. “I thought you were a budding actress.”

  “I am,” I say, my face heating up the way it does. “But, I think I would like this, too.”

  “Thank you for telling me, but we’ll figure it out tomorrow. For now, we write!”

  We all pull out our notebooks and I have a list written as fast as ever, guarding my paper the way Charlotte showed me so she will not see one single word.

  Reasons Why I Should Be the Director of the Moving-Up-Ceremony Show:

  1. I would get to boss Charlotte and the aBC’s around.

  2. I would get to make elinor hoot and holler for real so she will not be sad-serious anymore —top-secret mission accomplished!

  3. I would not have to act in front of my whole class and their whole families, since the entire idea of speaking in front of people I actually know makes me more nauseous than orange mouthwash.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Most anyone who knows me will also know that Jules and B
ig Henry bear very close resemblance to Grace and Elijah Ain. While this is true, and while I would not have come up with one sentence of this book without them, the two of them are truly unto themselves. I could never capture the intelligence, the wit, or the imagination they bring to their every experience. Not to mention the extraordinary joy and pride they bring me every day. Thank you both for being so authentically you.

  And while my own husband spends his day in a corporate office and not cooking up the organic meals (nor writing that Great American Novel) of his dreams, he is in so many ways my Robby Bloom, inspiring me every day with his curiosity, his extraordinary fathering, and his pursuit of life. His support is one of the great blessings of my life.

  To the people who read this, over and over until it was ready, I thank you for your feedback and encouragement. That means you, Gail Levine, and you, Kelli Novak, and you, Chava Ortner. To the kids and parents of the JCC of Manhattan Class of 2010 for inspiring this book in the first place. To my first-ever kid reader, and occasional digger of worms, Lia Ortner, who gave me the confidence to submit this at long last, thank you, thank you!

  To Jenne Abramowitz and Abby McAden, thank you for loving Jules, for giving her a home where she is understood, and for bringing her out into the daylight with such gusto. And to Jill Grinberg, for believing in me in a way I still can’t believe myself, I am grateful beyond words.

  BETH AIN was raised in Allentown, PA, but fell in love with New York City, where she lived until recently and where she even tried her hand at raising two kids, an experience that gave her some good lessons in what makes city kids (and city moms) tick. Enter Jules Bloom—lover of all things Upper West Side. In search of wide-open spaces, Beth headed for the hills of Port Washington, Long Island, where she, her husband, and their two kids have fallen in love all over again. This time with small-town life, where thankfully, she can see the Empire State Building from Main Street, which makes it pretty easy to imagine what Jules is up to over there.