Cloudy with a Chance of Boys (9 page)

Surfer dude?

Skateboard dude?

Band-member wannabe?

Yeti tendencies?

OBSERVATION:
Wire-rimmed glasses

CONCLUSIONS:

Geek potential? Nouveau geek?

Wants to look smart?

Techie?

Trying to hide eyes?

Can’t afford contacts?

Entering John Lennon look-alike contest?

Has ommetaphobia: fear of eyeballs?

OBSERVATION:
Faded T-shirt:
THAI ONE ON

CONCLUSIONS:

Likes chicken on a stick?

Family owns Thai restaurant?

Older brother hand-me-down?

Likes puns; wordplay freak?

OBSERVATION:
Absence of burping

CONCLUSIONS:

Hasn’t eaten since early lunch?

Trying to be polite around a girl?

Has burpophobia?

3:17

All of a sudden, Wire Rims reached over and tapped me. “Ah!” I nearly jumped out of my skin. Ms. Carter-Dunne glanced up. When she looked down at her papers again, Wire Rims pointed to the door.

Scott Towel! What in the world? He was hovering just outside the doorway, gesturing like a crazy person. I glanced over at Wire Rims. He shrugged. Scott was mouthing words and motioning for me to come out into the hallway. I couldn’t tell what he was saying, but his eyes were about to pop out of his head, which looked positively volcanic. I figured I better get out there before his head exploded or something.

“Excuse me,” I said, clearing my throat. “Ms. Carter-Dunne? Can I go to my locker and get a book I need?”

“No problem,” she said, glancing up at me.

I hurried out into the hall. A hand grabbed my elbow and dragged me into the empty classroom next door.

“Where’s Alex?”

“At home.” His T-shirt said
WILL POWER
and had a picture of William Shakespeare’s head.

“What do you mean ‘at home’? There’s a Drama Club meeting today. Right now. They just posted all the parts for
Romeo and Juliet.
”

“She’s still at home.”

“Is she sick? Oh, man. This is
so
not good. You’re not gonna believe this. C’mere. I have to show you something.”

“Are you insane?”

“C’mon. Five minutes. You gotta come with me. You’re not gonna believe it,” he said again.

“I’m in detention!” I told him. “Ms. Carter-Dunne thinks I just went to my locker. I’m already in enough trouble. Do you want me to get another detention for ditching detention?” I glanced toward the door.

“What’d you do?”

“Nothing. I mean — I gotta get back.”

“Wait. Look. Here’s the thing. The thing is —”

“Hurry up! What’s the thing?”

“I think Mr. Cannon went loco or something. I don’t know what’s eating him. I got the part of Romeo and all, but not a lot of guys even tried out. But the thing is . . . the thing is that . . . Alex didn’t get the lead! Okay, so her audition didn’t go so great, but she’s obviously the best, and he knows it.”

Alex didn’t get the part!
I tried to take in what Scott was telling me. For all my sister’s moaning and groaning, it never occurred to me that there would come a time when she actually wouldn’t get the role she wanted in a play. “You mean . . . she’s n-not Juliet?” I stuttered.

“This is what I’m saying! Crazy, huh?”

“Who got it?”

“Jayden. Jayden Pffeffer.”

“Fluffernutter?” I asked incredulously. “Fluffernutter got the lead?” I tried to picture Jayden Pffeffer as Juliet. “This is going to kill Alex.”

So much for Alex’s first kiss. It had just become the kiss of death.

3:22

When I got back to the classroom, I said, “Sorry, um, I couldn’t find my book. Guess I left it at home.”

“Well, tell you what. Why don’t you two help me out with a project, hmm?” She took us over to the magnetic poetry board in the shape of a refrigerator door, hanging on the back wall.

“You want us to make up similes and metaphors, like in class?” I asked.

“Not today. The magnets have gotten so much use lately that they’re all mixed up.” She looked at her watch. “Why don’t you two spend the last half hour sorting them out for me?” She handed us boxes for Shakespeare magnets, Seventies magnets, and Text Message magnets. “Try your best to get them into the right trays. And if you’re not sure, just make a separate pile.”

We started taking magnets off the board. “I guess all the ‘thees’ and ‘thous’ go into the Shakespeare tray, huh?” I said, getting started.

Wire Rims didn’t say anything. He was peering at a couple of magnets that said
lily-livered
and
canker-blossom.

“Here, I’ll take all the Shakespeare, and you find all the ‘Groovy’ and ‘Far out’ ones from the Seventies. Okay?”

“Sure.” Wire Rims pulled
Dream On, Can you dig it?,
and
Phoney Baloney
off the board.

“So,” Wire Rims asked. “Who was that guy?”

“What guy? Oh, him? Nobody. His name’s Scott Towel. I mean, Scott Howell. He’s just some guy who my sister kinda, sorta, um, knows.”

“He’s in eighth?”

“Yeah.”

I handed him
cheesy.
He handed me
dafadilly.

“So . . .” He reached into his backpack and pulled out a snack pack of two chocolate cupcakes. “Cupcake?” he offered.

“No, thanks.”

“Are you sure? There’s supposed to be a delight no matter how small a bite,” he said, referring to the corny ad for snack cakes. He tore open the package and took a bite. “Did you know every one of these cupcakes has seven loops on top? It’s like a thing.” When he smiled, his teeth were covered in chocolate.

“A thing, huh?”

“You like cupcakes, right? I mean, you were in a cooking contest or something?”

“How do you know about that?”

“I heard a rumor.” He picked up
funkadelic
and
cheese weasel
and tossed them into the Seventies tray.

“Olivia, right?”

He nodded. “I heard you made an entire castle and it was really cool.”

I could feel the edges of my mouth curling up into a smile. “Okay, just so you know, you can’t believe everything Olivia says.”

He pushed a bunch of words to the bottom of the board, spelling out a message for me to see.

Hey Sunshine. U R stellular. Totally munga.

I arranged some Shakespeare magnets to form a message back to him.

Methinks u jest squire
(Me, Stevie)

I M no cheese weasel
(Wire Rims)

Aye perchance a merry maggot-pie
(Me, Stevie)

Grody!
(Wire Rims)

3:55

Ms. Carter-Dunne stood up and straightened the stack of papers she’d been reading, tapping them into a neat pile. She started shoving folders into her shoulder bag. “Okay. Time’s up, you two. You’re free to go.”

Thou from loathsome prison breaks

Check ya later Sweetness

The word
Sweetness
dangled at the end of
Check ya later.
Did he mean me? Does that mean he likes me? I caught myself kind of hoping, but it scared me at the same time. What does it mean, anyway, if a boy likes you? Maybe he hadn’t even put it there on purpose. Maybe the word just happened to be there.

Uh! I hate that I’m driving myself crazy over a B-O-Y.

No matter what Olivia says, this figuring-out-boys thing was harder than it looked! Definitely
not
a science.

Next time, maybe I’ll just start a burping contest.

TO TELL OR NOT TO TELL

Starring Alex

Me:
Finally! Stevie. You’re home. What took you so long? Did you see the list? Hurry up, hurry up. Tell me. I’ve been dying all day.

Joey:
Yeah, Stevie. Hurry up. Tell her.

Me:
No, wait.
(Takes a deep breath to calm down.)
Don’t tell me.

Joey:
Yeah, Stevie, don’t tell her.

Me:
Joey, do you have to keep saying everything I say? And do you have to keep bringing that frog in my room?

Joey:
He has a name.

Stevie:
Tell you or don’t tell you? I feel like a Ping-Pong ball. First you drag me out of class and pretend to be Mom because you can’t wait to find out; now you don’t want me to tell you?

Me:
So, you know!

Joey:
You have to tell her sometime.

Me:
That’s bad, right? What did you mean, Joey, she’ll have to tell me sometime? Just tell me. Okay, go ahead. I’m ready. No. Wait. First . . .
(Gets into Shakespeare mode.)
“Is the news good or bad, answer to that.”

Stevie:
Well, let’s see. It depends.

Me:
On what?

Stevie:
On whether or not you were hoping to have a lot of extra free time.

Me:
(Glares.)
Oh, spurious day! How can this be happening to me? Uh! I knew it! I knew it the second Mr. Cannon didn’t take notes. I didn’t get the part, did I?

Stevie:
(Cringes.)
No. You’re not Juliet.

Me:
What sayest thou? Hast thou not a word of joy? Some comfort?

Stevie:
I’m sorry, Alex.

Joey:
But look at the bright side.
(In baby-talk voice.)
Right, Sir Croaks-a-Lot?