New Kid Catastrophes: 1 (TJ and the Time Stumblers) (4 page)

But instead of congratulating TJ, Naomi shouted, “What are you doing?”

TJ looked at her. “What?”

“Hesper threw that!”

“So?”

“So drop it!”

“What?”

Without explaining, Naomi knocked the ball out of her hand.

“Why did you do that?” TJ demanded.

“You’re out.”

“I’m
out
?”

“Yippee!” Hesper squealed, clapping her hands and jumping up and down. “She’s out! She’s out! She’s out!”

Which meant the rest of her team had no choice but to squeal, clap their hands, jump up and down, and shout, “She’s out! She’s out! She’s out!”

TJ turned to their teacher, Coach Steroidson. “That’s not fair.”

Coach Steroidson blew her whistle and, being the fair adult she was, shouted, “Finkelstein, you’re out!”

TJ just stared at her, then turned and stared at Naomi.

“Trust me,” Naomi said in a nervous whisper. “It’s for your own good. No one ever beats Hesper at anything.”

Another girl fired another ball. TJ caught it, but it didn’t make any difference since she was already out. Unfortunately, what
did
make a difference was the
third
ball someone threw. The ball that bounced off the one TJ was holding. The ball that went sailing high into the air and suddenly did a very strange U-turn, before flying directly at Hesper.

“Hesper!” Coach Steroidson shouted. “Look out!”

Tossing back her hair and flashing those pearly whites, she said, “What—?”

She would have said more, but it’s hard talking when a ball smashes into your face at a hundred miles per hour.

It’s hard talking, but it’s not hard screaming.

“My nose!” Her hands flew to her face. “You broke my nose! YOU BROKE MY NOSE!”

Everyone gathered around her, cooing, crying, and showing their concern . . . well, except for those gathered around TJ, who were growling, hissing, and showing their hatred.

Not exactly the good first impression TJ was hoping for. But the day was young, and she would have more opportunities . . . . Unfortunately, she would have plenty more.

Chad stood with a handful of other students in the parking lot as they carried Hesper to the ambulance. (Apparently her stretch limo wasn’t handy.) They could have loaded her into a regular car, but what type of drama would that be? And as Chad well knew, the drama queen loved her drama.

In fact, even as they closed the ambulance doors, he could hear her trying for an Academy Award:

“Oh, my nose (
sob, sob
). I’ll never be able to smell again!”
“Oh, my nose (
cry, cry
). I’ll never be able to act again!”
“Oh, my nose (
wail, wail
). Did someone call
Entertainment Tonight
so I can make this evening’s segment?”

Good ol’ Hesper.

The only things worse than her drama were the rumors being spread by her so-called friends (spelled
f-a-n-s
). The rumors that kept growing and growing . . .

“Hey, Chad, did you hear about the new girl beating up Hesper?”
“Hey, Chad, did you hear about the new girl breaking all of Hesper’s bones?”
“Hey, Chad, did you hear about the new girl stealing an Army tank and running over Hesper . . . twice?”

Of course he felt bad for Hesper. After all, he was her boyfriend (at least according to Hesper). But he felt even worse for the new kid. Not only did she have her mental issues, but now she was hated by the entire school.

“TJ!” Naomi banged on the stall in the girls’ bathroom. “Come on out!”

But TJ was in no mood for coming out. Actually, at the moment, she wasn’t so keen on living.

“How could the dodgeball do that?” she moaned. “Make a major U-turn in the air like that? That’s impossible!”

More banging from Naomi. “Come on, you can’t stay in there forever.”

TJ glanced around at the beige steel walls. “Why not? Hang a few posters, put up a bookshelf, bring in my stereo. The place has potential.”

“It gets no sunlight,” Naomi argued.

TJ frowned. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Without the sun, you can never achieve the healthy, golden glow of a Greek goddess.”

“I’m going more for the creamy-white look of an Elmer’s glue bottle.”

“How would you work out?”

“Work out?”

“You know, burn off those empty carbs, trim those flabby thighs, tighten that tummy?”

“Naomi, is that all you ever think—?”

“And where would you get the facial cream to give your skin that young, vibrant look that boys find so attrac—?”

“Naomi—”

“—or teeth-whitening strips for that dazzling smile every girl—?”

“All right, all right.” TJ unlocked the stall door and pushed it open to see Naomi. The girl had moved to the mirror and started flossing her teeth.

“You happy now?” TJ sighed.

“Not till we get you to your next class.”

“But everyone hates me.”

Naomi turned and walked toward her. “Don’t be ridiculous. Only the kids in PE hate you.”

“Isn’t that enough?”

She slipped her arm through TJ’s and they started toward the door. “Not when there’s a whole school out there waiting to join them. Come on.”

Of course, TJ wasn’t crazy about everyone seeing her and Naomi together. But since Naomi was like the only human being on the planet who would still talk to her, she didn’t have much choice.

Exactly 2 minutes and 17 seconds later, TJ stood in front of Mr. Beaker’s science class, under the gaze of 28 pairs of freezing eyes. Actually, only 27 because Chad Steel was there. And his warm baby blues weren’t exactly freezing her out . . . more like melting her down.

(Insert dreamy
sigh
here.)

“Class,” Mr. Beaker said, “this is Thelma Jean Finkelstein. She’s a transfer student from Mississippi, and I want you to make her feel right at home.”

“Actually—” TJ cleared her throat—“that’s Missouri.”

“Pardon me?”

“I’m from Missouri.”

“Mississippi, Missouri—” he waved his hand— “They’re all the same.”

She could think of a few million people who might disagree, but since he taught science and not geography, she let it go.

He picked up a clipboard and continued.

“Everyone’s been working on their science fair projects with their lab partners. But since everyone has a partner, I’m afraid—”

“Mr. Beaker?” a little voice squeaked.

He came to a stop and looked at a geeky kid who had a drippy faucet for a nose and 0 percent fashion sense.

“Yes, Doug?”

The kid pushed up his glasses. “I don’t have a partner.”

Mr. Beaker glanced down at his clipboard. “Hmm . . .”

Doug sniffed loudly. He looked at TJ longingly, then gave an even louder sniff followed by an even longinglier look. (Okay, maybe
longinglier
isn’t a word, but it should be by the way he was staring.)

Then, just when it seemed like TJ’s life was going to be ruined twice in the same day, another voice chimed in from the back of the room. “Me neither.”

She glanced over to see Chad Steel.

Mr. Beaker looked up. “You don’t have a partner, Mr. Steel?”

Chad shook his head.

Elizabeth (Hesper Breakahart’s best friend since forever) pointed at TJ. “Not since that witch broke her nose this morning.”

Hesper Breakahart?
TJ thought.
Hesper Breakahart was Chad Steel’s lab partner? Oh, brother . . .

“Hmm . . .” Mr. Beaker looked back down at his clipboard. “So we have two choices, do we? Hmm . . .” And then, to heighten the suspense, he threw in another “Hmm . . .” for good measure.

TJ caught her breath. Was it possible? Could Chad really become her lab partner? She crossed her fingers, wishing with all her might it would be true.

She threw a look over to Doug, who gave another sniff and another look . . . topped off by a good wipe of the nose on the back of his hand. She crossed her arms, her ankles, and her eyes—not exactly her best look, but she’d do anything to help the odds.

Finally Mr. Beaker glanced up and said, “Well, Ms. Finkelstein, I’ll let
you
decide.”

“Me?”
she croaked.

He nodded. “Do you want Doug Claudlooper as your lab partner or Chad Steel?”

Yes!

She couldn’t believe her luck!

Yes! Yes!

She couldn’t believe how quickly things had turned around!

Yes! Yes! Yes!

She couldn’t believe how Naomi kept waving her arms from the side of the room and mouthing the words
“Not Chad! Not Chad! Not Chad!”

“Well?” Mr. Beaker asked.

Now, before you think TJ is totally superficial or anything like that, it’s important to know that she was sure Doug was a very nice boy. It’s not his fault he was wearing Goodwill rejects and binocular glasses and had a perpetual case of hay fever (though someone might want to give him a clue about using tissues instead of the backs of hands).

But we are talking Chad Steel. Who was she to question fate? There was also the fact that they were next-door neighbors, so he could come over and work on the project anytime he wanted . . . and look at her with those baby blues . . . and accidentally brush his hand against hers, then hold it, then reach his lips toward her cheek and—

“Ms. Finkelstein?”

She blinked, coming back to reality.

Mr. Beaker repeated, “Who would you prefer to work with?”

TJ scrunched her face into a frown, pretending to think while doing her best to ignore Naomi, who was still waving her arms and mouthing,
“Not Chad! Not Chad! Not Chad!”

Finally she nodded toward Chad. “I guess . . . him.”

Chad gave a smile and the room started buzzing. Not
happy little bumblebee
buzzing. No, this was more like
swarm of killer bees
buzzing. Everyone was shocked and angry at TJ. Well, everyone but Naomi, who had dropped her head into her hands and was sadly shaking it.

“Then, please—” Mr. Beaker motioned TJ toward the empty desk next to Chad’s—“take a seat and join him.”

She started forward, floating toward him as in a dream . . . until she was awakened by someone sticking out a foot to trip her.

Actually, she wasn’t entirely surprised. With her growing popularity, she didn’t plan on running for class president anytime soon. What did surprise her was that when she stumbled and started to fall, Chad leaped to his feet and caught her just before she hit the ground.

It was a beautiful moment. One she would remember all her life—Chad Steel holding her in his arms and the entire class watching with envy (except for Naomi, who was busy praying). Of course, it would have been more beautiful if a dictionary hadn’t suddenly flown off the bookshelf at the side of the room, shot over everyone’s desks, and slammed into the back of Chad’s head.

What?!

It didn’t hurt him or anything, but it definitely got his attention. And everyone else’s.

CHAPTER THREE
“Aghhhh . . .”

TIME TRAVEL LOG:

Malibu, California, October 10—supplemental

Begin Transmission:

Have assisted subject through first day of school. For some reason, she’s not grateful. Still unable to find time pod fuel. Other equipment fritzing from exposure to saltwater. Majorly questioning Tuna’s engineering skills.

End Transmission

Ever since their mom died, Dorie, Violet, and TJ made the meals. Dad used to, but after eight weeks of hot dogs, cold cereal, hot dogs, mac and cheese, and hot dogs, the girls decided to take turns cooking. Well, Dorie and TJ took turns cooking (if you call throwing a frozen dinner in the microwave cooking).

But TJ’s middle sister, Vi, did things a little differently.

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