If I have to draw one more tattoo, I’m going to
VOMIT!
I thought Chloe and Zoey were my real friends. But now I can see that they were just USING me all along to earn that trip to NYC for National Library Week.
HOW COULD THEY DO THIS TO ME?!
Then Brandon came up to my locker all smiley and said he wanted to interview me for the newspaper after school. But I told him to just forget it because my tattoo career was OVER! He asked me if I was okay, and I said, “Yeah, it’s all good! I just need to find some new friends.” He just blinked and looked kinda confused. Then he shrugged and walked away.
So now it’s like CHLOE, ZOEY, and BRANDON are all TRIPPIN.’
I hope the three of them have a blast at MacKenzie’s little party, since they all got invited and I DIDN’T!!
But it wasn’t like I was jealous of them or anything. I mean, how totally juvenile would THAT be?!
SATURDAY, OCTOBER 5
I had the most horrible nightmare! It was like something out of the twilight zone.
MacKenzie was spitting bugs at me and all I could hear was the fifth-hour bell ringing and ringing.
Thank goodness I finally woke up. That’s when I
IT WAS LIKE EVERYONE WAS OUT TO GET ME!!
realized it was morning and the telephone was ringing, not the fifth-hour bell. I dragged myself out of bed and answered the phone on my desk. It was my grandma calling to tell us she was planning to come visit us for two weeks at the end of the month. I told her my parents must already be out running errands or something since they hadn’t answered the phone.
Then she asked me how I was doing, and I told her not so good. I said I was thinking about transferring out of my school and asked her what she would do if she were me. She said it was NOT so much about the school I chose, but whether I chose to be a chicken or a champion.
Which, of course, had ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to do with ANYTHING! Since Grandma was talking out of her head again, I told her that I loved her, but that I had to go because someone was at the door. Then I hung up.
I wasn’t lying to her because, unfortunately, Brianna and Miss Penelope were at my bedroom door. Miss Penelope wanted me to watch her do a medley of songs from High School Musical 3 in the stylings of Amy Winehouse.
I had been awake for less than three minutes and had already been forced to deal with my senile grandma, my hyperactive sister, and a wacky puppet. I climbed back into bed, pulled the covers up over my head, and SCREAMED for two whole minutes.
So many FREAKS and not enough CIRCUSES!!
MONDAY, OCTOBER 7
PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE make all of this NOT really be happening to me. Today has been the WORST day of my ENTIRE life!!
It all started Sunday night when I was sitting at my desk doing review problems for my geometry test.
My mom came into my room around midnight to tell me she was leaving the house extra early in the morning to chaperone a field trip for Brianna’s class.
“Nikki, since you have a test and the art competition tomorrow, it’s REALLY important that you set your alarm clock so you don’t oversleep in the morning.”
I was like, “Thanks, Mom. Good night!”
I really did plan to set my clock. As soon as I finished my geometry problems.
But the next thing I knew, it was morning and I was STILL sitting at my desk with my geometry book open.
I just about had a heart attack because, according to my clock, it was 7:36 a.m. on MONDAY, and my first-hour class started at 8:00 a.m.!
The only logical explanation was that I must have fallen asleep while studying at my desk.
ME GETTING MY SNOOZE ON (AND DROOLING ALL OVER MY GEOMETRY BOOK)
My day was off to a very bad start!
I had overslept, I didn’t have a ride to school, my painting needed to be turned in for the art show, and my geometry test started in less than twenty-four, no, make that twenty-three, minutes.
Even the weather perfectly matched my miserable mood. It was dark, overcast, and pouring rain.
I was fighting back my tears when suddenly I heard the low rumble of our garage door opening. I ran to my bedroom window and spotted the flicker of bright headlights.
IT WAS MY DAD ! And he was leaving the house.
I rushed around my room in a panic, trying to get dressed before he pulled out. I jumped into my jeans and slid on my jacket. When I couldn’t find one of my shoes, I decided to just change into my gym shoes once I got to school.
I grabbed my backpack and my painting and dashed downstairs like a maniac. By the time I got out the front door, my dad was already pulling into the street.
I ran down our driveway, waving my arms and screaming hysterically.
“Wait, Dad! Wait! I overslept! I need a ride to school!”
Only, I couldn’t run very fast because I was loaded down with my backpack and the painting. Of course, my bunny slippers didn’t help the situation either.
Unfortunately, my dad DIDN’T see me!
So I just stood there in our driveway in the pouring rain, feeling really, really cruddy. I couldn’t believe I was going to miss the art show, receive an F on my geometry test, and get an unexcused absence, all in the same day. I got this large, painful lump in my throat, and I felt like crying again.
But my dad must have finally noticed me in his rearview mirror or something, because suddenly he slammed on his brakes. SKKKRREEEEECCHH! I took off running down the street toward the van as fast as I could.
As I climbed in, Dad chuckled. “Does Sleeping Beauty need a ride to school, or are you waiting for your prince?!”
I ignored his corny little joke and collapsed into the backseat of the van. I was soaking wet, but l felt happy and relieved. All was not lost! Yet, anyway. But I also felt really anxious. For the first time this year, I was riding to school in the roachmobile!!
And if anyone saw me getting out of it, I was going to absolutely DIE!
By the time we pulled up to the front of the school, the rain had finally stopped. Thank goodness the only other vehicle around was a large truck with some men in uniform carrying in tall flat panels. I guessed that they were the displays for the art show.
I thanked Dad for the ride, grabbed my painting, and climbed out of the van. Just as I was about to slam the door shut, he waved and pointed to my backpack on the floor.
“Hey, I think you’re forgetting something!”
I carefully set my painting on the ground and leaned it against the side of the van.
Then I climbed back in and grabbed my backpack. “I think I’m all set now! Thanks again, Dad!”
I waved and slammed the van door shut.
I could NOT believe that I had actually made it to school in one piece with six minutes to spare. And not a single soul had spotted me getting out of the roachmobile, which was a miracle in and of itself.
Then I noticed a girl wearing matching Burberry raincoat, hat, and boots climbing out of the back of the truck parked in front of us.
“Hey, careful with that, buddy! It’s a piece of art, not a piece of plywood!” she snarled at one of the men.
I froze and thought about trying to duck back into the van to hide until she left. But it was too late!
MacKenzie’s mouth dropped open.
At first she had a look of shock on her face as she stared at me, my van, and Max (yes, the roach). Then her lips spread into a really evil grin.
“Wait a minute! YOU’RE the same Maxwell as Maxwell’s Bug Extermination?! And what is that hideous brown thing on top of your van, a dead horse?! Let me guess, it’s supposed to be a matching set with those two dead bunnies on your feet?!”
I just glared at her and didn’t say a word.
Okay, MacKenzie was the undisputed winner if we were competing for richest snob, cutest designer wardrobe, most friends, coolest bedroom, or biggest house.
But, we WEREN’T.
Avant-garde art was all about pure, unadulterated TALENT, which Ma
cKenzie could NOT buy with her parents’ money.
It was her Fab-4-Ever fashion illustrations against my watercolor…
And that was when I finally remembered my painting. I spun around and lunged to grab it just as my dad was pulling out.
But I was too late! I gasped and watched in horror as the van tire slowly crushed glass, antique wood frame, my hopes, and my dreams. It was shockingly painful to see the unique expression of me that had taken more than 130 hours to capture in watercolor so brutally destroyed in a matter of seconds.
But the torn, twisted, and splintered mess on the side of the curb was not nearly as ugly as MacKenzie’s final insult.
“Oh no! Was that your little art project?! Too bad! Hey, just throw some bugs on it and enter it as a modern art piece called Maxwell’s Bugs on Garbage.”
Then she cackled like a witch and sashayed off. I just HATED when MacKenzie sashayed!
I watched sadly as the roachmobile turned the corner and disappeared down the road.
For the first time in my life, I wished I were inside it, warm and dry and speeding away. Away from MacKenzie. Away from friends who were really NOT my friends. Away from Westchester Country Day Middle School.
I didn’t fit in at this place, and I was sick and tired of trying. I sat down on the side of the curb, next to the pieces of my painting, and cried. The rain started to pour again, but I didn’t care.
I had been sitting there like forever, trying to sort things out inside my head, when I noticed it had stopped raining. On ME, anyway.
Then, I recognized that faint aroma of Snuggle fabric softener, Axe body spray, and red licorice.
I looked up and was surprised and slightly embarrassed to see Brandon standing there holding an umbrella over me.
“You…okay?”
I didn’t answer.
Then he extended his hand. I just looked at it and sighed. If I sat out on the curb in the cold rain much longer, I’d probably end up dying of pneumonia. Which, BTW, didn’t sound like such a bad thing.
I grabbed ahold of his hand, and he slowly pulled me up off the wet curb.
I could NOT believe we were doing this stupid little scene all over again. How pathetic!
I rolled my eyes, sniffed, and wiped my runny nose on the back of my hand. I was NOT going to let him see me cry.
Both of us just stood there not saying anything. He was staring at me and I was staring at the ground.
Suddenly, Brandon dug deep into his pocket and fished out a wrinkled-looking piece of tissue.
“Um…I think you have…something on your face?” “Probably SNOT!” I said sarcastically, and snatched the tissue from his hand.
“Yeah. Probably,” he said, trying hard not to smile. “Like…I dig those shoes!”
“They’re NOT shoes. They’re bunny slippers! I was in a REALLY big hurry this morning, okay!”
I blew my nose at him loudly and angrily. HOOONKK!
“So…um, it looks like you had a little accident with your project.”
“I wouldn’t call it ‘little.’”
“Well, if it will make you feel any better, MacKenzie is entering some life-size paper dolls. I’d say your painting is STILL better than hers. Even in twenty-seven pieces. With mud smeared on it. And a few worms.”
A mischievous grin slowly spread across Brandon’s face.
“Come on. Everyone knows you have more talent in your smallest burp than—”
“Yeah! I know. I KNOW…!” I said, interrupting him and blushing uncontrollably. I HATED when he did that to me!
Okay, even though I was mad at the world, I had to admit, this whole thing was a little funny. In a really bent sort of way.
Finally, I smiled at Brandon, and he winked at me. He was such a DORK! But in a good way. He had a slightly weird sense of humor and was friendly and a little shy ALL at the same time. And, unlike me, he didn’t obsess about what other people thought about him. I think THAT was probably the coolest thing about him.
“Thanks for the umbrella!”
“Hey, no prob!”
Then we both walked to the front entrance.
Even though the building was warm, I felt really chilled.
My slippers were soaked, and it seemed like I was wearing sponges dipped in ice water on my feet.
“I need to get my shoes out of my locker and then go to the office to call my dad. Hopefully, he can drop off some dry clothing.”
“So…I’ll walk you to the office, if you don’t mind. My class is on the way.”
As Brandon and I made our way down the hall, some people stopped and stared, while others pointed and laughed. But I just ignored them.
I knew I looked pretty crazy. With every step I took, my bunny slippers went sloshie-squeak, sloshie-squeak, sloshie-sqeak, and left small puddles of water behind me.
When I finally got to my locker, there was a large crowd of kids gathered around it. At first I thought they were there for tattoos, but everyone quickly scattered.
Then I saw what they were looking at.
It felt like someone had punched me in my stomach so hard, I could hardly breathe. I covered my mouth and tried to blink back my tears for what seemed like the tenth time this morning.
Someone had written on my locker in what appeared to be Ravishing Red-Hot Cinnamon Twist lip gloss.
Which, BTW, was MacKenzie’s favorite.
“I—I’m really sorry!” Brandon stammered. “Only a real loser would do something as mean and stupid as…”
But I didn’t hear the rest of what he said.
I turned around, pushed my way through the crowded hallway, and went straight to the office to call my parents.
I couldn’t take it anymore!
I was leaving Westchester Country Day Middle School.
And NEVER coming back!
TUESDAY, OCTOBER 8
Today I stayed home from school with a cold and just lounged in bed all day and drank lemon tea.
The Tyra Banks show rocked, as usual, but for some reason, it didn’t cheer me up.
After my dad picked me up from school yesterday, I started thinking that maybe I was overreacting.
Watching my painting being smashed into a zillion pieces had been pretty traumatic, but it was mainly MacKenzie who was making my life miserable.
Maybe WCD wasn’t such a horrible place. Maybe if I tried talking to Chloe and Zoey, we could go back to being friends again. Maybe Brandon hadn’t written me off as a total loser.
So, on Monday afternoon, I called the library desk during fifth hour to talk to Chloe and Zoey.
Plus, I was a teensy bit curious about how MacKenzie’s art project had turned out. Okay, I admit, I was DYING to know! My hands were trembling as I dialed the phone.
“Library front desk, Zoey speaking.”
“Hi, Zoey, it’s me, Nikki. I was just calling to see how you guys are doing. You’d NEVER believe what happened to me this morning.”
Then I heard Chloe’s muffled voice in the background.
“OMG! It’s her?! Just say you can’t talk right now because we’re really busy. We don’t have time to waste.”
“Um…what’s up, Nikki? Brandon told us everything that happened. Actually, he’s here right now. Too bad about your art project…,” Zoey stammered nervously.
“Yeah, I know. So, what are the three of you do—”
“Listen, Nikki, I really have to hang up now. We’re really busy with, um…a project. Chloe and Brandon said hi.”
“Wait, Zoey! I just wanted to—”
“Sorry, gotta go. See you tomorrow. Bye.”
CLICK!
After that conversation, there was no doubt in my mind that Chloe, Zoey, and Brandon practically hated me. So there wasn’t really anything left to do but make plans to transfer to a new school.
And have a really good CRY.
Which is what I’ve been doing on and off for the past twenty-four hours.
The only good thing that’s come out of all of th
is is that my parents have been so worried about my emotional state, they’ve finally agreed to let me transfer to the nearby public school.
I thanked my dad for arranging the scholarship and all, but unfortunately it just hadn’t worked out.
Surprisingly, Mom and Dad took the news about their anniversary painting being destroyed really well.
Tales From a Not-So-Fabulous Life Page 10
