Camille McPhee Fell Under the Bus (14 page)

When he said five thousand dollars, my mind started zooming a million miles an hour. Because if I won five thousand dollars, I could buy thousands of minutes to talk to Sally. And maybe I could even help my parents pay their Visa bill. And maybe I’d have enough money left over to visit Sally in Japan and fly on a plane and get my own free barf bag.

“As a class, we’re only allowed to enter a limited number of projects, so I want you to work in pairs. Please write down your name and the name of the person you’d like to work with and hand it in. I’ll assign groups tomorrow.”

We all started scribbling. I got very nervous. I didn’t know who to put down. Finally, I wrote
Penny Winchester
. Because she came from a farm, so she
probably knew a lot about science. Because I always thought of science as involving dirt.

I grabbed all my homework and walked out to the bus. I thought I was going to have to avoid Polly. But I didn’t. Because she and Hannah Pond were walking together.

I stayed behind them. And that didn’t bother me. Because Aunt Stella had told me the rule about moving. And if Polly took planes to visit Texas and Florida and New York and Italy, she seemed like a flight risk anyway. A picture of Emily Santa giving her report on brown tree snakes flashed through my mind. It sent a shiver through me. I didn’t understand how moving could be so easy for grown-ups. But it was. Here today, Guam tomorrow.

When I got off the bus, I spotted my mom kneeling down next to our house, pulling weeds out of our flower bed.

“How was school?” she asked.

Instead of telling her about the science fair, I decided not to mention it. Because if she knew we were being asked to build a project for a young-scientist program, she might go talk to Mr. Hawk and the whole thing could get called off and then I wouldn’t win any money.

“Fine,” I said.

“Now that your father isn’t around, it’s up to us to
do the yard work. Do you want to help me?” my mom asked.

I shook my head.

“I need some cottage cheese,” I said.

When I went inside, I didn’t want cottage cheese anymore. I wanted to talk to Aunt Stella. So I called her really quickly. But I dialed wrong and got a pet store instead.

“Sorry!” I said.

And then I calmed down and dialed more slowly.

“I’ve been thinking about you a lot,” Aunt Stella said. “How are you?”

“I’m okay. Aunt Stella, did you know that on airplanes they have a barf bag for every seat? And that if you want to take your barf bag with you, even if you haven’t barfed in it, it’s free?”

“I did know that,” Aunt Stella said.

“It makes me want to ride on an airplane,” I said.

“I bet one day you do,” she said. “How are other things going?”

“Well, Mom is doing yard work because Dad is still out of town. Also, we had a very big Visa bill this month,” I said.

“Your parents show you the Visa bill?” she asked.

“No. They just yell about it,” I said.

“Camille, you should not be worried about things like that. You should be focused on school. And friends.”

“Yeah,” I said.

“You sound like you have something on your mind,” Aunt Stella said.

“Well, I have been thinking about something,” I said.

“What?” she asked.

“How old were you when you got a purse?”

“Oh, I don’t remember,” she said.

“Were you my age?” I asked.

“No. I didn’t start carrying a purse until I was in high school,” she said.

“Oh,” I said.

“You sound so sad. Was that the wrong answer?” she asked.

“No,” I said.

But really I was feeling pretty terrible that Sally had only been gone eight and a half months, but she was carrying a purse around and acting like a totally different person. Then I heard a beeping sound because I was getting another call.

“I need to answer that,” I said. “It could be my dad. And I haven’t talked to him since he drove off and left us.”

“Okay. I love you, Camille,” Aunt Stella said.

“Me too,” I said.

Then I answered the other call.

“Hello?” I asked.

“Camille!” my father cheered. “How are you?”

“I’m okay,” I said.

“I miss you so much,” he said.

“Me too,” I said.

“What? You miss yourself?” he asked.

“No, I miss you,” I said.

“I know. I was joking,” he said. “So what have you been up to?”

“I’ve been learning about technology and barf bags, and also I’ve been assigned the role of a cat in the school play.”

“A cat!” my father said. “How exciting. You love cats.”

“Yeah. But I have to stand on a plastic bucket and drown,” I said.

“Are you sure?” my father asked. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“Yeah. It’s because the world has too many cats. And our play is about teaching people to be more responsible with their cats and their factories.”

“Your play is about cat factories?”

“No,” I sighed, rolling my eyes. “Our play is about a world that isn’t sunny anymore. Because all the factories make it rainy. And so to save all the animals, Nora drives her bus and takes them from the zoo. Except cats don’t live in the zoo. Because they are wild and homeless and so they live wherever they want. And there’s too many of them to fit on the bus. So they die.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that play,” he said.

“Mrs. Zirklezack wrote it,” I said.

“Sounds heavy,” he said.

I shrugged.

“Are you still there, Camille?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said.

“Well, I’ve got to wrap this up. I’m on my way to Portland and I want to beat traffic. I was just calling to tell you that I love you.”

“Don’t you want to talk to Mom? She’s outside doing yard work, but I could get her,” I said.

“That’s okay,” he said. “I was calling to talk to you.”

“Oh,” I said.

“I’ll call again soon. I love you!” he said.

“I love you too,” I said. And then I hung up the stupid phone. And tried not to cry. And decided to go to my room and read all about the Rocky Mountain Middle School Science Fair. Because hearing about it had been the brightest spot in my day.

Chapter 20
Big Plans

T
he next day I was very excited to find out who my science partner was. But I became a lot less excited when I bumped into Mrs. Zirklezack at the drinking fountain.

“I’m on my way to your classroom,” she said.

And then we walked there together.

“These are for the cats,” she said, handing some papers to Mr. Hawk. She pulled one piece off the pile and handed it to me.

“It outlines the parameters for your cat costumes,” she said.

“Oh,” I said. Because I wasn’t sure what
parameters
meant.

Mr. Hawk read the paper too.

“Looks like you can make your costume out of anything you want. As long as you have black ears, a black unitard, and a black tail,” he said.

I nodded.

“And a clean face,” Mrs. Zirklezack said. “I’ll be painting them the day of the show.”

“My face is usually pretty clean,” I said.

“Fantastic!” Mrs. Zirklezack said, and then she left.

Once we were all seated, Mr. Hawk stood up and rubbed his chin.

“I bet you’re all very excited to hear about your science fair partners,” he said. “So I’m going to start with that. Let me begin by saying that I wasn’t able to honor every partner request.”

I did not enjoy hearing that. Then he started listing all the names of people in my class.

“Polly is with Hannah. Tony is with Boone. Penny is with Lilly. Zoey is with Gracie. Nina is with Camille—”

And then I stopped listening. Because I’d just been assigned Nina Hosack, a chubby, pigtailed, overly clean blonde.

Nina looked at me and waved. But I didn’t wave back. I covered my mouth in horror. I’d just been paired with the galaxy’s biggest wimp. Looking at her
pale, gluelike, milky face from across the room, I didn’t think she was capable of winning a science fair.

“Go ahead and take the next few minutes to brainstorm with your partner about possible projects,” Mr. Hawk said.

“I’ll come to you, Camille. So you don’t have to move your cooler,” Nina said.

I closed my eyes. And when I opened them again, Nina was standing right there.

“First, we’re assigned to be cats together. Then, we send each other e-mails in Technology. And now we’re paired up as science partners. Isn’t that cool?” Nina asked me.

I decided to ignore that question.

“Do you have any ideas?” I asked.

“No,” she said.

I let out a big breath.

“Not even bad ideas?” I asked.

“Maybe we could show the class a worm,” Nina said.

“Really?” I asked. “You’re willing to touch a worm?”

“Worms are good for the earth. They help it breathe,” Nina said. “Even though they’re disgusting, I can appreciate them.”

“Wow,” I said. “Good to know. But how is bringing a worm to school a science project?”

“Maybe we could point out all the worm’s parts,” Nina said.

“Ooh,” I said. “And then maybe we could cut it in two in front of the class, because I heard you can do that to a worm.”

Nina screamed. I guess that idea was too much for her.

“Is everything okay over there?” Mr. Hawk asked.

“We’re deciding on a project,” I said.

“Do you need any help?” he asked.

“Lots,” Nina said.

“Some,” I said.

“Well, when it comes to deciding on a project, I think it’s important to think about what you love. Ask yourself this question: ‘What interests me?’”

“I think Nina and I have different interests,” I said.

Mr. Hawk put his hands in his pockets and kept talking.

“Okay. Try to have a discussion. Do either of you have any problems that you want science to solve? What do you love? What do you spend your energy dreaming about? That should really be your focus,” he said. “Follow your heart.” And then he patted his heart three times.

“Thanks,” Nina said. “That helped.”

Mr. Hawk walked away.

“I guess that means no worm,” Nina said. “Because I don’t dream about them and they do nothing for my heart.”

“Okay,” I said. “What do you love?”

“Marshmallows, potato chips, and dollhouse furniture,” Nina said.

I felt sick to my stomach. Out of all the things Nina loved, only the marshmallows seemed to have any science-project potential.

“Maybe we should sleep on this,” I said. “And then talk on the phone.”

“We can talk in class,” Nina said.

“The phone is better for me,” I said. And I didn’t know why that was the truth. But it was.

Mr. Hawk told us to wrap it up because we had to move on to spelling. I watched Nina walk back to her desk and sit down.

Marshmallows? Potato chips? Dollhouse furniture? I took out my spelling worksheets and tried not to feel totally rotten.

When I got home, I felt awful and needed a banana. But there was bad news: We were out of them. But there was also good news: My mom was punching the air in the kitchen. And she had a list of groceries she needed taped to the refrigerator. So maybe we could go to the store.

“Peekaboo! Jab! Jab!” she cried.

I waved my arms in front of her.

“Bananas!” I said.

She stopped punching. Sweat beads splattered onto the linoleum floor.

“Bananas?” she asked.

“We’re out.”

“Camille, you eat a lot of bananas,” she said. “It makes me believe in evolution.”

“What?” I asked.

“It’s a theory that says we descended from apes.”

I rolled my eyes. “That explains a lot,” I said. But really, I didn’t think that it explained anything. I pointed to the note on the refrigerator.

“We’re out of a lot of things,” I said.

“Only tuna fish, pickles, and paper towels,” she said.

“We should go to the store,” I said.

“Do you need something besides bananas?” my mother asked.

And when she said that, I realized that I did need something besides bananas. I needed an international calling card!

My mother loved to go to the store. And I knew she’d probably take me too. But I didn’t tell her about my plans to buy a calling card. I figured that was my business.

“Let’s go to a superstore,” I said. Because those places sell everything. Even tires and diamond rings.

“Sounds good,” my mom said.

Once we were at the superstore, my mother said she needed to assess the Lycra content of some socks. That did not seem fun or necessary. I took off and told her I would meet her by the bananas. She didn’t object.

I hurried to the electronics section where they had a whole rack of calling cards. They had all sorts of countries that I was unfamiliar with, like Algeria and Swaziland. And they were not in any order. I hunted to find Japan. It was next to Yemen, which I thought was weird.

Sadly, I couldn’t afford a hundred minutes. Due to some recent spending, and because I liked to keep five emergency dollars in my underwear drawer, I only had about sixty dollars to spend. And to talk to Sally in Japan cost two dollars a minute. I thought that was a rip-off. But I needed the card. So I bought it. It came with a lot of instructions that I did not have time to read. I handed it to the man working at the register.

“What’s this?” the man asked me. He wore a bright blue smock and a pin that said FRED.

“My international calling card,” I said. I lifted up my money to show Fred that I had it.

“An international calling card?” he asked. He took my money and frowned. “You’re not trying to contact some stranger you met on the Internet, are you? That would be dangerous.”

He gave me back a few pennies in change and my calling card.

“I’ve never met any strangers on the Internet,” I said. “I only e-mail people in my row.”

“Then why do you need an international calling card?” he asked.

I wanted to tell Fred that it was none of his business. But I was afraid he might make me get my mother.

“I’m going to call my very good friend Sally who lives in Japan. She moved there in September,” I said. “I miss her.”

“I see,” Fred said. “I hope you two have a good talk.”