Mia the Meek (19 page)

Ms. Jackson was pacing in her room when we arrived for Quiz Bowl practice.

“As you know, we are only one month away from the competition. We need to get prepared. First of all, we need a team captain. Do we have any volunteers?”

“I nominate Lisa,” I said.

“I second the nomination,” Mike shouted.

“I’ll third it,” Tim agreed.

“Good,” Ms. Jackson continued. “As you know, the competition is a single elimination tournament, so if we lose a single round, we’re finished. The moderator will ask eighteen questions in each round. Each individual team member will be asked two questions, except for the team captains. The team captains will be asked three questions. Questions will be asked in rotation to the two teams and to contestants within the team. Correct answers are worth ten points, with no deduction for incorrect answers. If an incorrect answer is given, though, an individual on the other team may answer it and receive ten points for the team. No teammate assistance may be offered or received on these questions. Answers must be stated within ten seconds after the question is read.”

“What if I get a math question?” I interrupted. “I thought I was on the team to answer questions about books or grammar.”

“That’s a good point. You’ll be able to answer all the questions that come to you individually, I hope, but where your language arts experience will be helpful is in the bonus questions. After every third question answered correctly, the moderator will read aloud the bonus question and the team that answered the toss-up question correctly is allowed to discuss the answer. Lisa, as captain, will be the only one allowed to give the answer. If it’s correct, you’ll receive an additional fifteen points.”

“How long does the tournament usually last?” Tim asked.

“The tournament will be all day, so make sure you clear your calendar for the first Saturday in November.”

“Are you kidding?” Lisa said. “I’ve had that date cleared since they announced it last year. My parents are even skipping a wedding of one of their cousins’ kids for this.”

Ms. Jackson got out the trivia cards.

“You all have one month to live, eat, sleep, and breathe trivia!”

My mom took a sip of her coffee and asked, “Who wrote, ‘He gives his harness bells a shake/To ask if there is some mistake./The only other sound’s the sweep/Of easy wind and downy flake.’?”

“Robert Frost.” I sighed. “All right, that’s enough. My teachers have been quizzing me all week and I’m exhausted. I swear, if I hear one more trivia question, I’m going to scream.”

My dad walked into the kitchen.

“When Einstein made his famous comment, ‘God does not play dice with the universe,’ he was expressing doubts about what theory of matter?”

“AAAAAAHHHHH!” I grabbed a piece of peanut butter toast, snatched my backpack off the floor, and ran out the back door.

“So, are you up for some trivia this weekend?” Lisa asked, falling into step beside me.

“No more trivia—I need a break.”

“You can have a break after the tournament. Come on, you know how important this is to me.”

“What do I have to do?” I asked, defeated.

“I was thinking we could have a Trivial Pursuit tournament tomorrow,” Lisa replied, excitedly. “My mom is having some colleagues over to discuss Jungian and existential philosophies, so can we have it at your house?”

“Do I have to invite Tim?”

“Of course you have to invite him—he’s on the team. By the way, it’s been totally obvious you’ve been trying to avoid him this week. What’s he done now?”

“He just gets on my nerves,” I said. It had been almost a week, and I still hadn’t told Lisa about the kiss. I hadn’t figured things out, and I wasn’t ready to hear Lisa’s psychological evaluation of the event.

“I think you like him,” she said.

“Get real, Lisa, I can’t stand him!”

“Love and hate are similar emotions. It takes a lot of passion to hate somebody the way you claim to hate Tim.”

“Aw, shut up and let’s get to school,” I said, running ahead of her.

By Saturday afternoon, we had eaten two large pizzas, drank a twelve pack of pop, consumed three bags of chips and a large bag of M&M’s, and played seven games of Trivial Pursuit.

Mike picked up a card and smiled as he read, “How do you make a Kleenex dance?”

“It doesn’t say that,” Lisa yelled, trying to grab the card from his hand.

“I know this one!” Tim shouted. “Put a little boogie in it!”

“Gross!” I screamed.

“I’ve got a good one,” Lisa exclaimed. “Why did the quantum chicken cross the road?”

“Why?” I asked, already beginning to laugh.

“Because it was already on both sides of the road!” Lisa collapsed on the floor with laughter.

I threw a couch cushion at her.

“That doesn’t make sense,” I said.

Lisa threw the pillows back at me.

“Yes it does, and it’s hilarious!”

“Why didn’t the cheetah go on vacation?” Tim asked.

“Why?” we all screamed.

“Because it couldn’t find the right spot!”

I started throwing pillows at Tim now.

“That’s the worst joke I’ve ever heard!” I said.

“Pillow war!” Tim shouted, hitting me over the head with a cushion.

Lisa and I grabbed pillows and pummeled Mike and Tim while they led a counter-attack.

My mom poked her head into the living room. “It’s after five o’clock, guys. I think you’ve had enough trivia for today. Time to go home and detox your bodies.”

“Is it really that late?” Lisa said, jumping up. “I have to get home so I don’t miss my mom’s guest speaker on Socratic thinking. I hate to leave this big mess and run. Do you mind, Mia? I promised Mike he could hear it, too.”

“I can help Mia clean up,” Tim offered.

“Great. Let’s get going, Mike, I’d hate for you to miss any of it,” Lisa said, pulling Mike out of the house.

“Man, that guy is whipped.” Tim shook his head. “
Socratic thinking
?”

“I think it’s sweet Mike will do anything for Lisa.” I piled pizza boxes into a trash bag and made sure to keep my distance from Tim.

“If you really thought it was ‘sweet,’ you’d be dating Mike. Face it, Mia, you like a guy who challenges you.” Tim shoved paper plates into the bag.

“How do
you
know what I like?” I asked, following him out the back door and tossing the bags into the trash bins by the garage.

Tim grabbed my arm and turned me towards him.

“I know you liked our kiss last Friday night.”

“That kiss was a mistake. I’m dating Jake, you’re dating Cassie, and that’s that.” I pulled away, not trusting myself in Tim’s arms.

“I’m not dating Cassie. I’m just hanging out with her until you get it through your thick skull that
I’m
right for
you
—not Jake. If you want, I’ll break up with her tonight.”

“Is that so?”

We both whirled around to see Cassie standing behind us, hands on her hips and eyes blazing.

“Cassie!” Tim said in a strangled voice. “What are you doing here?”

“You invited me over to watch DVDs tonight. Remember?” Cassie spat. “I showed up at your house and your mom told me you were over here. So, I came over to rescue you from having to spend any more time with Mia. But I guess I was wrong, and you actually
like
spending time with the Freak Queen. I can’t believe you’re two-timing me. Don’t you know who I am?”

“Cassie, I’m sorry,” Tim sputtered.

She held up her hand. “Save it for someone who cares.” Then Cassie got in my face. “No one makes a fool out of Cassie Foster. Just remember, Mia the Meek—revenge is sweet.”

B
y Friday afternoon, I was desperate. My presentation on Cassie was due in three days and she hadn’t spoken a word to me since finding out about me and Tim. She’d also sworn Stephanie and Jessie to silence, so I had no one to talk to and nothing to write about. If I had to repeat my own mom’s class during the summer, I would be the laughing stock of St. Hilary’s. I had to get an A on this assignment—I didn’t care about my promise not to speak to her parents. She’d insisted on it, then made the decision to not talk to me herself, so I had no other choice. Her parents couldn’t be
that
busy.

After school, I looked up Cassie’s address in the phone book. I rode my bike over to her house and, as I pedaled into her neighborhood, I was shocked. I’d always assumed Cassie was such a snob because she was rich, but her house was located in the older part of town where most of the houses were small and broken down. Parking my bike in her driveway, I couldn’t believe the condition of her house. The grass was high, her screen porch was ripped, and rusty tools were scattered all over the lawn. Walking up to the front door, I didn’t see a doorbell, so I tentatively opened the screen door and knocked.

“We don’t want any!” a voice shouted.

“I’m not selling anything,” I called back. “My name is Mia Fullerton and I go to school with your daughter, Cassie.”

A man opened the door. His blue eyes and white-blonde hair were an exact match of Cassie’s, but the similarities ended there. While Cassie was meticulous about her appearance, this man was a shambles. He was wearing an old, stained undershirt and ripped jeans, and smelled like he hadn’t showered in days. He took a swig of beer from a bottle and asked, “What do you want?”

“I was assigned to interview Cassie and her family for English class. May I come in and ask you a few questions?”

“I don’t know why I send Cassie to that hole of a school—I should’ve put a stop to that Catholic crap a long time ago.” Mr. Foster slammed the screen door in my face. “Cindy! There’s someone to see you!”

A slender woman came hurrying down the hall and opened the door.

“Can I help you?”

“Um, my name is Mia Fullerton and I was assigned to interview Cassie’s family for English class. May I ask you a few questions about Cassie?”

Mrs. Foster opened the door and let me in. Then, flashing a worried expression at her husband, she said, “Why don’t we go into the kitchen? I’m sure we’ll be more comfortable in there.”

I followed her into a surprisingly clean kitchen. Mrs. Foster offered me a glass of lemonade.

“You’ll have to pardon my husband. He hasn’t been himself since getting laid off last year. He tried to find another job, but gave up after six months. I just can’t seem to get him off the couch any more.” With a sad look in her eye, she bit her lip as if she might have said too much, and quickly changed the subject.