Jessi and the Superbrat

by Ann M. Martin

  I wished I had taped our conversation that afternoon. It probably sounded pretty comical. For awhile, I didn’t give up trying to ask Derek questions about the show — what it was like being a TV star and all. But, every chance he could, Derek changed the subject and asked me things about Stoneybrook. Did I know anything about Stoneybrook Elementary School? he wanted to know. Were the same teachers still there? Did I know if any of the same kids would be in his class?

  Of course, I know plenty about Stoneybrook Elementary. Becca goes there and so do just about all the kids I baby-sit for.

  “Do you know Nicky Pike?” I asked.

  Derek’s face lit up. “Nicky’s a great guy.”

  As Derek talked on, the light bulb finally flashed in my brain. Derek wasn’t interested in talking about show biz. Here was a kid who’d been away from his class for almost a year, and he was just worried about how he would fit in when he went back.

  “I hope the kids don’t think I’ve changed,” he said, “or treat me differently. Some people act pretty strange about this star stuff.”

  “Really?” I gulped. I was glad Derek didn’t know how silly I had gotten.

  After the boys had finished their snack, Derek brought me up to his room. He pulled an old, battered box out from one of his drawers. It was a game of Candy Land.

  “Landy Cand!” he said to Todd. “You want to play Landy Cand?” Then he explained to me, “That’s what Todd used to call it when he was two.”

  See, not only was Derek a regular kid, he was also a regular, everyday brother.

  The three of us settled on Derek’s floor for a game. And another. And another. Whenever Todd got a card with candy on it, he brought it up to his mouth and pretended to eat it with loud munching sounds. Derek let Todd win every other game.

  When we were about Candy Land-ed out, Derek folded up the board and put the game away. I spotted another box in the drawer. On the top was a large photo of Derek.

  “What’s this?” I asked curiously. I picked up the photo. It was of Derek’s face, but it was blown up and it looked like some kind of fancy movie star photo. His hair looked kind of windswept, but in a perfectly styled kind of way. His smile was big and toothpaste-y. At the bottom of the photo his name was printed in big letters. Derek looked embarrassed that I had found it.

  “There’s more,” I said. The whole box was filled with copies of the photo.

  “It’s my head shot,” Derek said shyly.

  “Your what?” I asked.

  “Head shot,” Derek repeated. “If you’re an actor, you get a fancy picture taken of you like this and then you send it around to all the people who might give you work.”

  “Really?” I said. It seemed so … so, I don’t know…. So professional.

  “Yeah,” said Derek. “You take them to auditions with you and stuff.”

  “Auditions,” I mumbled. I wondered if dancers were supposed to have photos, too.

  “I’m going on an audition soon,” I told Derek. Even as I said the word, my stomach started knotting up. I may have decided to go ahead with the audition, but I was obviously still more than a little scared.

  “Really?” said Derek. Now it was his turn to be surprised. “What kind of audition? An acting thing?”

  “Sort of,” I said. “For a ballet.”

  I explained to Derek about my dance classes and about this Stoneybook Civic Center production of Swan Lake. I told him that Mme Noelle had encouraged me to try out.

  “Great!” said Derek. “I know all about auditions. I’ll be your coach. I’ll tell you exactly how to land this job.”

  Derek didn’t have time to do any coaching that day, though. Downstairs, the front door banged open.

  “I’m home!” Mrs. Masters called.

  Derek came downstairs with me. “Thanks for all the news about Stoneybrook Elementary,” he said.

  “Sure,” I replied. “And don’t worry. You’ll do fine. Hey, especially in science,” I suggested, trying to be helpful. “You could make friends just by doing everybody’s science homework.”

  “Science!” Derek shook his head as if he were going crazy. “I hate science!” he exclaimed. “I get F’s!”

  “You do?” I said. I couldn’t help laughing.

  Derek narrowed his eyes, pretending to be mad.

  “I know, I know. I’m confusing you with Waldo. I’m going to have to start a list. On one side I’ll put all the things Waldo does. On the other side I’ll put the things Derek does.”

  Mrs. Masters paid me and I said good-bye to the boys. I hurried down the street and headed for my afternoon Baby-sitters Club meeting at Claudia’s house. I couldn’t wait to tell my friends all about Derek and what a nice kid he was. And wait’ll Becca hears, I thought.

  Uh-oh. I stopped short. Becca! I’d completely forgotten to ask Derek anything about Lamont! Oh, well. I sighed as I thought of how mad Becca would get. I ran the rest of the way to the meeting.

  You can tell from what Mallory wrote in the club notebook that she had caught DEREK MASTERS! fever. That’s the way it seemed to go. Just when one person would be getting over it, another person would catch it. It was contagious.

  Anyway, that Saturday, things did get a little strained. Who knows, maybe it was all my fault. Maybe I shouldn’t have tried to get everybody together in the first place. But Becca started it. And Mallory pushed it. And then the triplets made it worse.

  Come to think of it, Derek didn’t help the situation any himself.

  See, this is how it started. I was still home, getting ready to go over to the Masterses’ house for another afternoon baby-sitting job. Becca followed me to the door while I was putting on my jacket. She was begging, I mean absolutely begging me to take her along.

  “Please, please, please, please, please,” she said.

  “Becca,” I said, “you know I can’t take you with me on a job.”

  “But Derek is probably lonely,” she whined. “He probably doesn’t have any kids here to play with yet. In L.P. he probably gets to play with Lamont all the time.”

  I rolled my eyes. This time I didn’t even bother to correct Becca. She hurried on.

  “Does Derek ever say anything about Lamont?” she asked. “I mean, did he ever maybe say anything about how Lamont really loves rock collections?”

  What a question. That’s my sister, though. You can guess who has her very own rock collection. Miss Rebecca Ramsey, herself.

  “Please,” Becca started up again.

  Okay, Becca was being a little bit of a pest. But as she was talking, I started thinking. It was true, Derek had seemed a little lonely. Practically all he’d talked to me about was whether he was going to be able to make friends at school again. And it just so happened that he and Becca were the same age. I decided that I would ask Derek and his mom if they’d mind if Becca came over to play for awhile. Of course, I wasn’t about to tell that to Becca. I figured I’d wait and see what they said first.

  “That would be fine with me.” Mrs. Masters smiled when I asked her the question. “Derek, what do you think?”

  Derek squinted his eyes.

  “How old did you say your sister is?” he asked.

  “Eight,” I said.

  Derek’s face brightened.

  “Eight?” he repeated. “Yeah, sure. Call her up. Tell her to come over.”

  You should’ve heard Becca squeal on the other end of the phone. I had to hold the receiver about a mile away from my ear.

  Mrs. Masters left us sandwich fixings for lunch, and since it was a nice day, the boys and I decided to have a picnic in the backyard. By the time Becca arrived, Derek was munching on an apple and Todd was trying to spread a big glob of peanut butter onto his bread. I introduced Becca to the boys.

  I noticed Becca staring hard at Derek. I had warned her ahead of time that in real life he doesn’t have spiky hair and glasses, but I think it still came as a shock.

  “Hi,” Derek said. “Want an apple?”

 
Phew, I thought, this is going to go just fine.

  Derek asked Becca all kinds of questions about what had been happening in the third grade. Becca, of course, knew lots more than I had been able to tell him. She knew all of the kid stuff, like how one boy had thrown a spitball and been sent to the principal’s office, and how a bird had flown through an open auditorium window during the last assembly.

  “Really?” said Derek. “Cool.”

  There was a lull in the conversation. I could see Becca gearing up to ask her question.

  “So, Derek,” she said. “What’s it like to work with stars?”

  “It’s okay,” said Derek. Suddenly, all the life had drained out of his voice.

  “Well, what’s it like to work with Lamont? What’s he like?”

  “He’s okay,” Derek replied flatly.

  “Is he as funny as he is on TV?”

  “Yeah, he’s funny.”

  “Is he smart?”

  “Pretty smart.”

  “Do you think he likes rock collections?”

  Derek kneeled on the picnic bench. He took a napkin and wadded it up into a ball. “Can we change the subject please?” he said.

  That was my first clue that talk about the show was going to make Derek a little testy.

  “Hey,” I said quickly, “why don’t you guys go climb on the jungle gym? But carefully, since you just ate.”

  Derek hopped off the bench and started for the jungle gym. Becca tagged after him, still firing questions.

  As I cleaned up the lunch things I had an idea. Maybe it would be better to get Derek together with a boy. I decided to call Mallory and see if maybe I could bring my kids over to visit hers. I knew that Mallory was at home baby-sitting for Nicky and the triplets (her mother had taken the three younger girls shopping). After all, Derek already knew Nicky, and the two of them were even going to be in the same class. I got Mallory on the phone and asked her what she thought.

  “DEREK MASTERS!” she screeched. I was beginning to understand how Derek felt. I mean, Mallory is my best friend and all, but she was getting as carried away as everyone else. I reminded Mal that Derek was just a kid.

  “Right,” she said, calming down. “I remember what you said at the meeting. He’s worried the kids won’t like him.”

  “So how about it? Can I bring Derek and Todd and Becca over?” I asked.

  Mallory thought it was a super idea. I wrote Mrs. Masters a note telling her where we would be in case she should come home early. Then I rounded up my gang.

  “Field trip!” I called. “What would you think about going over to the Pikes’ to play?”

  “All right!” the kids exclaimed.

  When we got to their house, Nicky opened the door. He looked a little shy when he saw Derek. He shifted his feet and smiled a sheepish grin. Derek looked kind of shy himself.

  “Ask them in. Ask them in.” Mallory hurried up behind Nicky and swung the door open wide.

  “Hello,” she said, smiling right at Derek. She stuck out her hand to shake his. “I’m Mallory Pike.” She was standing at attention and pronouncing her words strangely, a little too precisely. “And you must be Derek. I’m so pleased that you could come visit us in our home today.”

  Why was she talking like that? What did she think she was doing? Greeting the Queen of England?

  “Mal,” I said, trying to cut her off.

  “Yes, yes,” she went on. “We are very pleased to extend our hospitality, aren’t we, Nicky? Do come in.”

  Nicky smiled another one of his embarrassed smiles.

  “Hi, Derek. Uh, how’s Hollywood?” he asked.

  “It’s okay.” Derek shrugged.

  “Tsk, tsk, tsk,” Mallory shook her head and clicked her tongue. “Now, Nicky. I’m sure Derek is tired to death of talking about Hollywood and show business.” Mallory gave me a little wink, like she was in the know.

  I’d never seen Mallory act quite like this. And where was she getting this voice of hers? She sounded like she was about to recite Shakespeare.

  “The other children are out back,” she said. Other children? Who was she talking about, the triplets or some precious little boys in sailor suits? “Everyone is so looking forward to meeting you.”

  “Mallory,” I whispered as we cut through the house to the back door. “This isn’t high tea. Why are you talking like this?”

  “Am I talking funny?” she whispered back.

  “Just a little,” I said.

  “I guess I’m just nervous. I figured Derek would think we’re a bunch of nobodies.”

  When Nicky opened the back door, Derek spotted the badminton net.

  “Badminton!” he said. A big smile stretched across his face. “Great! I love badminton!”

  “See,” I mouthed to Mallory. “He’s a kid.”

  “Right,” Mallory mouthed back. “Derek,” she said. “Would you care to join the others in a game of —”

  I shot Mallory another look. Her face relaxed.

  “I mean, do you want to play badminton with the guys?” she asked.

  “Sure!” said Derek. “Let’s go!”

  The triplets, Nicky’s brothers, were already at the net. Their names are Adam, Byron, and Jordon and they’re ten years old, two years older than Nicky. Sometimes, because they’re older, they can go a little too far with their teasing. They like to lord it over Nicky, and I really don’t think they liked the idea of a TV star who was younger than they were. So they took one side of the net and Nicky, Derek, Becca, and Todd positioned themselves on the other.

  “We’re gonna cream you squirts,” said Byron.

  Jordan and Adam slammed a high five.

  But when Adam served the birdie, Derek jumped to hit it and slammed it right back.

  “Whoa,” Adam said, taken by surprise. “Think you’re cool, huh?”

  Well, the game went on like that. Any birdie the triplets served up, Derek managed to hit right back over the net. Derek and his team were winning, and the triplets weren’t used to being beaten. Especially not by “squirts.”

  “Do they teach you that on P.S. 162?” Byron jeered.

  Oh, no. I couldn’t believe this was happening. Why couldn’t anyone just act normal around Derek? Becca had been hounding him for information, Mal had treated him like royalty, and now the triplets were going to be jealous and nasty about the show. Each person seemed to have a different way of acting creepy, but acting creepy was the general theme.

  “Is that what they teach you in star school?” Jordan joined in.

  Suddenly, Derek’s face turned bright red.

  “Forget it,” he said. “Just forget it. Who cares about your crummy old game.” He threw down his racket and turned to face the triplets. “Anvil Head!” he shouted. “Cactus Brain! Pizza Breath!”

  Pizza Breath??? Before I had time to step in and referee, Derek had stomped out of the yard and was calling me after him.

  “Come on, Jessi,” he said. “I’m going home!”

  I grabbed Todd by one hand and Becca by the other.

  “Mallory,” I said quickly, “I’ll talk to you later, I guess.”

  Did you ever notice that things often get worse before they get better? When we got back to the Masterses’ house after the badminton game, I spent a lot of time trying to calm Derek down. But Derek didn’t feel like being calmed.

  “It’ll be worse when I get to school,” he complained.

  “No, it won’t.” I tried to shrug the whole thing off. “It was just the game.” Derek’s face slid into an even deeper sulk. Suddenly, I had a silly thought.

  “Hey,” I said. “Why do you think they call it badminton?”

  Derek cracked a smile. We both started to laugh. It was a giddy laugh, though. That tense kind of laugh that means things really aren’t fixed at all.

  And believe me, they weren’t.

  That Monday I had another job at Derek’s house after school. Monday was his first day at Stoneybrook Elementary. Mrs. Masters had h
ad to run off to take care of some legal something or other (handling Derek’s career was practically a full-time job for her), and I was waiting at the house with Todd when Derek got home from school.

  I was hoping that Derek and I would have time to talk about my upcoming audition. I was still feeling pretty nervous about it, and I thought Derek might be able to give me some tips on how to relax. We never did get a chance to talk about auditions that afternoon, though. What we talked about was Stoneybrook Elementary. When Derek got home, he threw his book bag down on the couch and walked right past me without even saying hello.

  “Hi, Derek,” I said.

  “It was terrible,” was his answer.

  I got out the snack Mrs. Masters had left and settled the boys around the kitchen table. After a couple of bites of cookie, Derek poured out the whole miserable story.

  When he first got to his classroom that morning, he said, the girls circled around him, cooing and mooing like they were sick cows.

  “They wouldn’t let me through the door,” he said. “They all thought they were in love with me.”

  I nodded my head. I knew what he meant.

  “Like Becca,” I said.

  “Worse than Becca,” said Derek. “Becca follows me around, but at least she isn’t in love with me. I thought those girls might rip my jacket off. You know, so they could keep the pieces for souvenirs.”

  Derek stuffed another oatmeal cookie in his mouth.

  “So I was trying to push my way past them into the class,” he said, “but then all of a sudden this flash went off and practically blinded me. Some photographer had shown up at the school, some guy from the Stoneybrook News. A reporter was with him. The reporter pushed the girls aside, stuck this stupid tape recorder microphone into my face, and started firing questions at me.”

  Derek laid his head in his hands.

  “The worst part was,” he said, “after the reporter was finished, he pushed his notebook into my hands and asked for my autograph.”

  The reporter asked for his autograph?

  Derek heaved a big sigh.