Ava XOX (3 page)

DEAR DIARY,

I dreamed I made a valentine for Chuck but was too embarrassed to give it to him.

Question one: Do boys ever dream about girls?

Question two: Do I wish Chuck were
my
valentine?

Since you are my diary and no one else will ever read this, I guess I will admit that I think I do.

Okay, yes, I do.

I do.

I
do
like Chuck.

Wait, all those “I do's” make it sound like we're getting married!!

All I mean is that I realize that when I think about Chuck, I
keep thinking
about him. He doesn't just cross my mind; he finds a chair and sits right down!

And usually that's okay, because thinking about him makes me smile. Lately, though, it makes me frown.

Is he telling Kelli jokes and making her laugh? Does he think about her as much as I think about him?

AVA :-(

DEAR DIARY,

After homeroom, I went to the bathroom and was about to come out of the stall when I recognized Kelli's and Zara's voices. Kelli said, “Isn't Chuck soooo cute? Do you think he's the tallest boy in fifth grade?”

Zara said, “Maybe. Or maybe tied with Jamal?”

“I can't wait for my party!” Kelli said. “Should I invite the whole grade?”

Zara said, “If your parents will let you, why not?”

“Oh, there are a few kids I could do without!” She laughed, and I wondered who she meant. Did she mean
me
? I don't like her, but does she not like
me
? And if so, is it because Chuck and I are…friends?

Well, I couldn't just poke my head out, so I had to stay hidden until the coast was clear. And it was awkward sitting there, trapped. Plus, Mrs. Hamshire gets mad if you're even two seconds “tardy.”

Finally Zara and Kelli must have had to pee, because they went into the stalls on either side of me. The second they closed the doors, I made a run for it—and a beeline to math class.

At lunch, Kelli announced that she was having a Valentine's party, and now that's all anybody can talk about. It's our grade's
first
boy-girl party—if you don't count all the ones we had when we were little.

I wish the party weren't at Kelli's.

I also wish I had the guts to give Chuck a card—or collage.

But he's
not
my valentine, so that would be
inappropriate
!

AVA, APPROPRIATE

DEAR DIARY,

Taco Cat and I were on the sofa, and Pip was on the floor working on her new book,
Z Is for Zinnia
. She's made three pages: A is for azalea, B is for buttercup, and C is for chrysanthemum. (Note:
chrysanthemum
is a hard spelling word, which is one reason most people just say “mum.”)

Anyway, P-I-P was filling in the petals of her M-U-M and making them R-E-D-D-E-R and R-E-D-D-E-R (palindrome alert!), and I asked if Tanya had said anything about getting a valentine.

Pip said, “No, but she did ask me a personal question.”

“What?”

“She said, ‘Didn't you used to be shy? Like
really
shy?'” Pip looked at me. “I didn't answer right away, but she kept asking how I got less shy, so I ended up telling her the whole story about how you and Bea made those five Pip Pointers to help me get braver.”

“You told her about the five Pip Pointers??”

“Yes. And you know what she said? She said she wished she had ten Tanya Tips to help her lose weight because she knows she's not ‘the prettiest flower in the garden.'”

“She
said
that?” I made a sad little “Oh” sound. It just came out. “What did you say?”

“I didn't know
what
to say! I objected and everything. But Tanya said that all her relatives—except her grandmother—used to say, ‘Look how big you are!' like it was a compliment, and then one day she noticed that, without any warning, that sentence went from being a good thing to a bad thing.”

“That's awful!”

“I know. So I said I'd ask you.”

“
Me
?
”

“You and Bea.”

I scrunched my face and pointed out that Bea and I don't know anything about losing weight. “Bea only knew about shyness because her brother Ben used to be shy.”

“He's not anymore,” Pip said and smiled to herself. Then she added, “Oh, c'mon, Ava. You told me Bea wants to be an advice columnist.”

“Yeah, but someone who
wants
to be a pilot can't fly an airplane,” I protested. “And someone who
wants
to be a doctor can't perform an operation. And someone who
wants
to be a boxer can't—”

“Can't you and Bea just give it a try?” Pip asked, interrupting. “I bet it took a lot of guts for Tanya to ask.”

“Let me think about it,” I said.

AVA, CORNERED

DEAR DIARY,

At dinner, I told Mom and Dad that I got another 100 on our Friday spelling test. Dad said, “Way to go!” and Mom said, “Good for you!” (They used to forget to say things like that.)

What I didn't say out loud is that when we graded the tests, Chuck and I traded papers—and this was the highlight of my whole day.

One of the words was
handkerchief
, and Chuck wrote
Kleenex
. I thought that was really creative and he should get at least partial credit. But Mrs. Lemons said to mark it wrong. He also got
earnest
and
sincere
wrong. Another word was
palindrome
, which of course I know backward and forward. Another was
afterthought
, which I sometimes used to feel like at home back when Mom and Dad were always worrying about Pip. One last word was
valentine
.

When Chuck gave me back my test, he drew a big star around the 100. When I gave back his, I did not circle the 70, but I did whisper, “You got
palindrome
and
valentine
right.”

He whispered, “Did you hear about Kelli's party this weekend?”

I nodded.

He said, “You going?”

I nodded again.

He said, “Me too.”

Maybe I should have left well enough alone, but I didn't. I whispered, “Are you and Kelli really going out?” I could
not
believe I said that!

He looked like he couldn't either. His eyes went wide, and he turned a little pink. “Sort of.”

Mrs. Lemons said, “No talking.” She looked right at us and added, “Or whispering.”

I passed Chuck a note: “Sort of?”

He turned the note over, scribbled on it, and pushed it back to me. It said, “1. I'm not aloud to go out.” (He wrote “aloud,” but I knew he meant
allowed
.)

Then he ripped a second strip of paper from his notebook and wrote “2.” He was about to scribble something else, but the bell rang, and You-Know-Who was already peeking in the little window in the door. (If you don't know, I'll give you a hint: she was wearing a sparkly sunshine-yellow headband.)

AVA, NOTE PASSER

PS What was Chuck going to write in his second note??

DEAR DIARY,

There's no school on Monday because of Abraham Lincoln's and George Washington's birthdays. I cannot tell a lie: I love three-day weekends!

Y-A-Y presidents!

I also like that it's not getting dark quite so early. But it's still icy cold out. Today I went outside to bring in the newspaper, and I could see my breath.

Valentine's Day is tomorrow, and the whole grade is going to Kelli's. She said all the girls should wear red or pink. I don't own anything pink, but Pip has a top I can borrow that is not too girlie-girlie.

This morning Pip asked me if I'd talked to Bea yet, and I had to admit that I hadn't. She said I should and handed me her cell phone, with the number already pressed in.

Bea answered, and I said hi, and she said, “What's up?”

“The ceiling,” I replied, but then felt immature since Bea is two years older than me. So I just went ahead and told her that Pip talked to Tanya about the Pip Pointers and now Tanya wants us to come up with Tanya Tips—but about weight loss. I thought Bea might say, “Tanya's weight is not my problem” or “What do I know?” But Bea said Tanya was one of the first kids who was nice to her when she moved to Misty Oaks and added, “I didn't know her weight bothered her.”

“Want to come over?” I asked.

“One sec,” Bea said, and I heard a muffled conversation. Then she said, “Or you and Pip can come to the bookshop. Ben and I are about to go there.”

I ran that idea by Pip, and she liked it and jumped in the shower. Now she's drying her hair with a blow-dryer and just asked loudly, “Should I give Ben the valentine I made?”

“Definitely,” I shouted back, Little Miss Love Expert.

“Think he'll have one for me?” she shouted.

“I don't know if boys are as into Valentine's Day as girls,” I shouted back. “But he could always grab one from the card rack.”

Pip shouted, “That's real romantic.”

I rolled up my poster and put it in my backpack and mumbled, “At least you're giving your valentine to a boy. I'm giving mine to a store.”

AVA, WHOSE CRUSH IS SOMEONE ELSE'S VALENTINE

PS I didn't mean to write “CRUSH,” but it was like my hand had a mind of its own. (Wait. Can
hands
have
minds
?)

DEAR DIARY,

We entered the bookstore, and Mrs. Bates put my poster by the register, which made me feel good.

Bea and Ben came over, and we went to the back and put our coats and hats and scarves and gloves in a big clothes puddle in the corner. Then Pip gave Ben her handmade valentine, and he handed her a great big red envelope! It
was
romantic! Especially since Bates Books is practically polka-dotted with hearts.

Ben and Pip stayed in the kids' section, and Bea and I walked to a grown-up section. Meow Meow, their friendly Creamsicle-colored cat, followed us, his tail high in the air.

I have to say: I'd never noticed how many books are in Bates Books. I guess I'd always hung out in the kids' area, but there are shelves and shelves of books for grown-ups.

Mrs. Lemons once told us about genres—like mysteries and sci-fi and fantasy and graphic novels and historical fiction and realistic fiction (my favorite). But most books are nonfiction. And a lot of them have to do with food.

I'm not kidding. Bates Books sells hundreds of cookbooks. Some explain how to cook French or Italian or Greek or Mexican or Indian or Chinese meals. Some explain how to cook soup or fish or meat or vegetables or dessert. Some are for beginners, some are for experts, some are for people with allergies. And they're all bursting with recipes and photos! They're like picture books for grown-ups.

Right next to the cookbooks are diet books. Tons of them! There are almost as many books about
not
eating as there are about eating! It made me think of when Ms. Sickles had us look for “mixed and contradictory messages.” Bea said they have books about eating disorders too, like when people eat so much, they make themselves sick, or starve themselves and have to go to the hospital.

“I think Tanya wants just general suggestions,” I said.

We sat on the floor and started looking at self-help books on “wellness,” and I started writing down tips. Bea said her mom and dad don't like it when kids treat the bookstore as if it's a “lending library,” but they don't mind if
she
does.

I told her that if we come up with a good list for Tanya, I might make a poster for FLASH class. I also told her that Ms. Sickle just put up a poster with a giant B+ and, underneath, the words: “
Be positive.
”

Bea smiled, and Meow Meow rubbed up against my knee and hopped onto my lap and started purring and purring like there was no place he'd rather be. (Taco never does that.) “He's such a good cat,” I said.

“I know,” Bea said.

We kept leafing through books and talking, and I took notes like: “If you drink sugary soda, try to switch to water.” And “If you tend to eat fast, try to put down your fork between some bites.” And “Leave the ice cream in the grocery store because it's much easier to resist temptation
once
in a store than all day long at home.” I also wrote “Use smaller plates,” and “Take the stairs not the elevator,” and “Go places by bike, not car,” which is exactly what Pip and I had just done even though it had meant bundling up with hats, scarves, and gloves.

Besides all the practical tips, Bea said her aunt—the psychotherapist—would say to think “big picture.”

“Big picture?”

“Like, picture yourself in better shape so you're ‘visualizing success,' rather than just ‘feeling deprived.'”

I nodded, and Bea kept dictating tips like, “Avoid high-fructose corn syrup.” And “Don't expect to drop pounds overnight.” And “Give yourself lots of credit for trying to take better care of yourself.”

It was fun to be working with Bea again. Interesting too, because I'd never thought about
c
arbs,
c
alories, or
c
orn syrup.

It reminded me of when we made the Pip Pointers, back when Pip could hardly say hi to people.

I guess we all have different strengths and weaknesses.

One of my strengths is spelling. I can spell
carbohydrate
even though I'm not exactly sure what it means.

One of my weaknesses is math. I wish I could remember numbers the way I can remember letters. But everyone's brain is different. Chuck once joked: “There are
three
kinds of people in this world—those who can count and those who can't.”

One of Pip's strengths is drawing and another is concentration. When she reads, she's in another world. Sirens could be blaring all around, and she wouldn't hear them. Another strength is her sense of direction. The only place
she
gets lost is inside books!

Well, this might be another one of my weaknesses (or maybe it's normal?), but once something starts to bother me, it's hard for me to stop thinking about it every single second. So another nice thing about being with Bea was that it got my mind off Kelli and her sparkly headbands and perfect backflips and princess parties and how she stole Chuck away from me (even though he was never mine in the first place and she probably didn't know I liked him, since
I
barely knew).

After a while, Meow Meow jumped off my lap and climbed onto the pile of clothes to take a catnap while Bea and I put all the books back. I thought about asking Bea what to do if you have a crush on a boy who is “taken”
and
who used to be your best guy friend. But I didn't.

When you hang out with older kids, it's better not to remind them of how immature you are.

On the bike ride home, Pip led the way but seemed upset, which was weird because she'd been so happy an hour earlier.

“What's wrong?” I shouted.

She didn't say, “Nothing,” which meant, “Something.” When we got home, she went straight to her room and closed the door.

I went into my room and spent a little time with my stuffed animals. Sometimes I worry that I'm neglecting them. But now that I'm eleven, I guess it makes sense that I don't play with Winnie the Pooh all day.

H-U-H. I just thought of something. If Winnie owned a hula hoop, it would be Pooh's hoop or P-O-O-H-S-H-O-O-P.

I wonder what's bugging P-I-P anyway.

A-V-A, L-I-L S-I-S