The Friendship Matchmaker (4 page)

My reputation as Potts County Middle School’s Friendship Matchmaker depended on it.

By the end of the week Emily had collected almost two hundred dollars toward trampolines for the playground. Her fund-raising efforts came to a stop when Mr. Smith stormed into our classroom after lunch on Friday.

“Ms. Pria, are you aware that Emily Wong has been collecting money from students?”

Ms. Pria looked over at Emily in surprise. “No,” she said.

“I’ve had kids falling asleep from hunger in the afternoon because they’ve donated all their lunch money to fund-raising for trampolines!” Mr. Smith was furious. “Not to mention that the cafeteria has been in an uproar. They’re
barely breaking even. Almost no students are buying lunch.”

“Is this true, Emily?” Ms. Pria said. “Did you get permission from the principal?”

“No,” Emily said with a shrug. “I didn’t think I had to. Sorry.”

Ms. Pria sighed and rubbed her temples. “Well, did you keep receipts?”

“Receipts?” Emily grinned. “’Course not. Why would I give someone a receipt for a dollar? It’s not really worth the effort.”

Mr. Smith’s face was turning bright red. “Then how on earth will we return all the money? We have no idea how much each child donated!” He turned to Emily. “Young lady, this is not how we do things at this school. You can’t just take money from children without permission.”

“But I had their permission,” Emily said.

Someone called out, “She’s got you there!” And the class burst into laughter.

“Don’t be sassy!” Mr. Smith said. “I mean a
teacher’s
permission.”

In the end Emily was sent to the principal’s
office to explain. Mr. Muñoz was actually a big softie. The real person to steer clear of was the assistant principal, Ms. Annabelle, but she was on vacation, so Emily was lucky. And because it was too hard to work out how much money was owed to whom, the school decided to add the money Emily had collected to the playground equipment budget and sent explanatory letters home. Emily was disappointed we weren’t getting trampolines but happy that the money was at least going toward play equipment.

She’d only just started at our school and was already one very popular girl.

I felt like I was losing control. Nobody had ever claimed fame without my help in some way.

I didn’t like the situation one bit.

Chris was the seventh-grade bully. Actually, make that Bully, with a capital B. I noticed him on my way to class on Monday morning. He was ripping a magazine into tiny pieces, letting them fall in front of cowering Kevin’s eyes.

I walked straight up to Chris and yanked the torn magazine out of his hand.

“Don’t be such a jerk,” I yelled.

“What’s it to you?” he shouted back.

I wondered if I should bother explaining the common bond between human beings in the fight against evil.

Chris put his face up close to mine and flipped his eyelids.

On second thought, I didn’t think there was any point.

“Betcha can’t do that!” he cried.

“Why on earth would I want to?”

Chris flipped his eyelids back.

I handed Kevin the remains of his car magazine. He sniffed, thanked me, and walked away.

“You think you’re so good,” Chris said with a sneer.

“Well, when I think of you, I think of bug spray,” I said calmly, and whirled around and walked away, running into Emily on my way to class.

“Have you found someone yet?” Emily asked.

“Yes,” I said. “Let’s meet at recess in the courtyard, and we’ll go through the terms and conditions of the contest. Have you found someone?”

“Yep!”

We stared at each other for a moment and then parted.

That’s when I noticed the words on the back of her T-shirt: Rules Are Made to Be Broken.

I took this to mean the war was going to be very personal.

I hurried to the classroom and found Tanya sitting alone sniffing her calculator. I slid in beside her and arranged my things on the desk.

Tanya was so surprised she stopped sniffing. “You’re sitting next to
me
?”

I grinned. “Tanya, today is your lucky day. I’m officially making you my Special Project. I’m going to find you a best friend. Are you with me?”

Tanya beamed. “Wow … I can’t believe it. Why me?”

I didn’t know how to answer that question without making Tanya cry. It was one thing to have her in the top five of my secret Terminal Total Loner list; it was another thing to tell her that. “Tanya, I really want to help you out. I know we’ve had some sessions before and they didn’t go too well. So now I’m offering you my personal, one-on-one services. I’m cutting back on all my other duties. There will be a schoolwide crisis, but I’m here for you, and you alone.”

“Wow. I mean, I’d love a best friend … it would be amazing …”

“You just have to promise to follow my Rules. And in return I promise that if you do, I’ll find you a best friend.”

“Okay,” Tanya said, grinning. “Deal!”

Tanya went back to sniffing her calculator. I snatched it out of her hand. “Sorry, Tanya. The sniffing-school-supplies thing ends
now
.”

Tanya looked embarrassed. “Oh. I didn’t realize …”

“Yes, well, you do it a lot and it has to end. That is my first Rule.”

Tanya nodded. “Okay, sure. I’ll try.”

“We’ll meet at lunchtime today and go through all the Rules. I just have another private appointment at recess.”

“So should I just do what I always do at recess?”

“What’s that?”

“Help Mr. Thomas stack books in the library.”

I tried not to cough. Could it really be
that
bad? “Uh, for today only. I’ll have a program for you starting tomorrow.”

I turned around to look for Emily. She was sitting alone, sketching on her folder.

I wondered who her project was.

Bethany Faddy.

Was Emily kidding? I could see them waiting in the courtyard. I quickly looked up my TL list. Both our choices were from my top five TLs. Well, Emily and I were obviously suckers for hard work.

I skimmed through Bethany’s profile.

PROFILE—BETHANY

1. SO MANY annoying habits. For example, no idea about personal space. Always close-talking.

2. Usually has bad breath. (See point no. 1 for why this is a problem.)

3. Doesn’t believe in chewing gum, lollipops, or mints. (See point no. 1 again for why this is a problem.)

4. Environment crazy. All she talks about is
recycling and saving water and how paper is evil and we should each have our own blackboard and chalk.

5. Hates anything electronic: iPods, Nintendo DS, all cell phones. Probably thinks we should communicate using pigeons.

6. Vegetarian (okay, that can be cool) and her family also doesn’t believe in junk food.

7. Always lectures everybody. (See point no. 4.)

I was annoyed that Emily had brought Bethany to our meeting. It was unfair to Bethany. I mean, why did she have to know she was a guinea pig in our experiment? That was cruel and something I would never do. Emily obviously didn’t even have a
silver
heart. Hers was probably made out of aluminum.

I hid my Manual in my backpack and walked up to them.

Bethany took a massive step toward me, her nose practically touching mine.

“Hi, Lara!”

Definitely sour-cream-and-onion chips for lunch. Probably soy based. “Hi, Bethany.”

“How are you?” she continued.

I tried to back away slightly, without making it too obvious. “I’m good. Do you mind if I talk to Emily alone for a moment?”

Maybe I was speaking a different language, because Bethany completely ignored me and said, “I heard you talking with Daniel from the fifth grade the other day about his trip to Fiji with his parents. You were trying to find him a match. I went up to him afterward and told him he’s lucky to be alive. Sea levels are on the rise, you know, and they could have been caught in a tsunami or just drowned in a high tide. That’s what you get with global warming. He started crying. It’s pretty good that he’s so worried about the environment, isn’t it?”

One thing was certain. I was going to win this competition! “Oh, that’s great, Bethany. Convert them early.”

“My mom and dad are thinking about suing the school because they don’t sell organic food in the cafeteria.”

Emily stopped Bethany then. She asked Bethany to fill her recyclable bottle of water from the fountain, because she didn’t believe in the evil plastic bottles the cafeteria sold.

Bethany grinned and ran off.

“Okay,” I started, taking control. “We need to talk about the details. I’ve chosen Tanya. You’ve chosen Bethany. How long do we have to find them a friend?”

“Well, seeing as you’re the
expert
, you decide.”

“A month. Do you think you can manage?”

“Huh!” she said, folding her arms. “Of course!”

“The friend has to be genuine. No recess or lunchtime buddies who ditch them when the bell rings.” I leaned in closer, making sure she understood how serious I was. “We’re talking
best friend
material.”

Emily shrugged. “That’s no problem.”

We locked eyes for a moment and then went our separate ways.

1. While you’re waiting for the school bus, there is absolutely no point in talking to somebody who already has a friend to sit next to. That is a Bus Trip Faux Pas (BTFP).

2. Also, don’t be tempted by trios. A trio is an unstable, dangerous friendship unit that is totally incompatible with standard two-person bus seats.

3. If you sit next to the odd one in someone else’s trio, don’t think they will include you in their trio talk. You are just a butt on a seat because while trios can become a pair by killing off the odd one out (refer to chapter on trios), they will rarely become a foursome, so you WILL NOT CONVERT THEM.

I took Tanya to a quiet corner of the school playground at lunchtime. I’d come with a half-finished can of styling mousse I’d snatched from my sister’s room, and a summary of my FMM Fashion Rules, which I’d written out in class before lunch while Ms. Pria was reading aloud to us.

“Okay,” I began. “Tanya, I want you to take my Fashion Rules home and study them. You need to try and fix your wardrobe. People like to be seen with trendy people. So no more track pants. From now on you’re in jeans. And no more tops your grandma made for you with pictures of baby animals on them.”

“My mom makes them for me,” she said quietly.

“Okay, even worse. No more anything any family member makes for you.”

“But Mom will be so upset,” she whispered.

I lost my temper. It happens. Even to people with hearts of gold like me.

I shook her by the shoulders. “Do you want me to help you, Tanya?” I shouted.

“Yes …”

“Do you want to be lonely for the rest of school, or do you want somebody to play with every recess and talk to every lunchtime?”

“I want someone to talk to …”

“Do you want to stop worrying about whether you’ll have someone to sit next to in class or on the bus? Look me in the eye and tell me you want all these things, Tanya. I’m the Friendship Matchmaker. I can change your life!”

I’d let it all out. I calmed down and smiled. Maybe my hopeful face would rub off on her.

She sniffed. “Yes, I want all that … badly …”

I gave her a quick hug. “Okay! Then trust
me. If it upsets your mom that much, wear her sweater on the way to school, then stash it in your bag. Honestly, I think it should be illegal for a school not to have a uniform. I mean, it would make my job so much easier. Do you know how many training sessions I run because people get bullied for their fashion sense?”

Tanya shook her head.

“Never mind, you don’t need to worry about that. Okay, so study my notes and your clothes will be fixed. Next: hair.”

“My dad says he loves my curls,” she said, patting her wild hair, “because I look exactly like my mom except for my hair. Which is like his.”

I rolled my eyes. “That’s sweet. But your dad’s not here with you when Chris calls you Electric Shock, is he?”

The expression on her face told me she wasn’t convinced. She was harder work than I thought.

“Look, your curls are really nice, but to be honest—and I say this only because I’m
trying to help you—you look like you’ve been camping in the woods and just woke up.”

“Oh … okay …”

“So you have some options. I brought you some mousse. It’s my sister’s. Put it in your hair to stop it from standing up like that, or pull your hair back. Look, I’m not a control freak. I’ll leave it up to you. Just make sure you bring extra elastic bands tomorrow so I can change it if I don’t like it. Cool?”

She agreed and I ticked “hair” off my list.

“Some other Rules,” I continued. “No meatballs for lunch. Ever. They may be yummy but they stink, and stinky food is a one-way trip to being bullied. Got it?”

“Yep.”

“Can you play basketball? The other day I heard you talking about how you play on the weekends.”

“Well, yeah, I can dribble and shoot the ball.”