The Miraculous Makeover of Lizard Flanagan (8 page)

“Leave my stuff alone!” he yelled.

The cover showed a woman wearing a thong swimsuit looking back over her shoulder toward the camera, her hair blowing in the breeze.

“
Sports Illustrated
—the swimsuit issue,” I said.

“That's none of your business!” Sam yelled. “Get out of my room!”

“Why are you looking at this?”

“I've been reading
Sports Illustrated
for years!”

“But this is September,” I said. “Why are you reading the February issue?”

“Give it back!” He grabbed at the magazine, but I yanked my arm back.

“This isn't Mom's issue,” I said. “The address label says Howard Mechtensteimer. Have you guys been passing this around,
leering
at it?”

“So what?” He spat the words at me. “I missed that issue when it came out.”

“I think you're disgusting!” I shouted. “You dirty-minded—”

Sam threw himself at me and tackled me. We fell backward onto the bed. He grabbed for the magazine, but I held it as far away as I could.

“Give it to me!” he yelled.

“You make me sick!” I yelled back.

He leaped forward and grabbed hold of the magazine, but I held on tight.

R-i-i-p!

Sam held several pages of the magazine in his fist. “Look what you did!” he hollered. “Give me the magazine!”

“Stop grabbing at it!”

He lunged for it again and tore out some more pages. He looked at the paper in his hands. “You ripped it! It doesn't even belong to me!” He picked up the sleeping bag and shoved it at me. “Get out of my room!” he screamed.

“My pleasure,” I said. “You're sickening, you … you
zombie
!”

I yanked the sleeping bag from him and stomped down the hall to my room.

“This is going to be horrible,” I said to Mary Ann on the way to Lisa's slumber party. We were both walking down the sidewalk carrying sleeping bags with our p.j.'s and toothbrushes rolled up inside.

“It won't be horrible,” Mary Ann said. “Just you wait. You'll be surprised and glad you changed your mind about coming. These girls seem really nice.” She looked at the houses around us. “What's the number?”

I pushed my sleeping bag under my right arm and fished a small piece of paper out of my jeans pocket.

“Urn, 2113 Oakcrest.”

“There it is, up ahead,” Mary Ann said.

It was a big white house with green shutters and a green roof. Some red flowers were growing in window boxes under the downstairs windows.

“Nice,” Mary Ann said.

We walked up the front walk and knocked on the door.

In a few seconds, it was yanked open. Crowded into the doorway were Lisa, Ginger, Tiffany, Heather, and Sara.

“Come in,” Lisa said. “Now we're all here.”

“We're going to have a BLAST! A FANTAZMIC party!” Ginger said. “Dump your sleeping bags in the living room. That's where we're not sleeping!”

We went into the living room, tossed our stuff on the floor, and sat down.

“What are we going to do first, Lisa?” Heather asked.

“What do you think?” Ginger answered. “Eat! Right, Lisa?”

“Right,” Lisa said. She jumped up. “Popcorn's all made. You guys come and choose your drinks.”

We followed Lisa into the large kitchen. A kettle was sitting on the kitchen counter, filled with popcorn. It smelled terrific, and it glistened with melted butter. Next to it were bowls full of M&M's and Hot Tamales. My mother would've been horrified.

“You've got your choice of Pepsi, Diet Pepsi, root beer, or 7 Up,” Lisa said.

“I'd better go with the diet,” Ginger said.

“Me, too,” Heather said, and all the rest of the girls piled onto the Diet Pepsi bandwagon.

“I'll have a root beer,” I said.

Ginger grinned. “You work off all those calories with sports,” she said. “Playing with the boys.”

“I think I could learn to like sports,” Lisa said. She smiled slyly.

“Especially if hottie Zach was around,” Ginger added.

The girls laughed and looked at me. I nodded and tried to smile.

“So, Lizard,” Lisa said, plunking ice into the glasses, “tell us about him.”

“About Zach?” I said.

Lisa turned to me. That cool smile was still on her lips. “Of course, about Zach.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Well—” Lisa thought a moment. “What's his favorite color?”

“I don't know,” I said.

Lisa frowned. “Well, what does he like to do?” She poured root beer into the first glass.

“Play baseball and football,” I said.

“What else?”

The root beer fizz climbed up the glass and started to pour over the top. I stuck my finger in it, and it died back a little.

“He likes to camp,” I said. I licked my finger. “He and his dad go to the boundary waters every year to camp and fish.”

Lisa nodded.

“Ask the most important question,” Ginger said, nudging Lisa.

“Lay off, Ginge. I'm getting to it,” Lisa said. “What kind of girls does he like?”

What a stupid question. Why didn't she ask what kind of people Zach likes?

“Athletic ones,” I said, knowing how she'd feel about that.

Lisa's face fell. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

Seeing her disappointment was great.

Lisa rolled her eyes. “I suppose I'm going to have to learn more about football and baseball.”

“Good idea!” said Ginger. “Maybe we should all bone up on football. There's a high school football game coming up. I bet all the boys will be there. I bet Sam will go, right?”

I shrugged. “Sure. We always go.”

“Speaking of the game,” Lisa said, “I have a surprise announcement to make.” She paused dramatically. “I'm going to be in the first football game. Well, at halftime, anyway.”

Ginger gasped. “Doing what?”

“The theme for halftime is Hawaii,” Lisa said, smiling. Her eyes were shining with excitement. “My class at the dance studio has been invited to dance the hula in front of the band!”

The girls shrieked.

“Will you wear a grass skirt?” Ginger asked.

“No, we're wearing short wrap skirts and halter tops,” Lisa said. “We started learning the steps tonight after school.”

“Are you nervous?” Heather asked.

“I'd be a wreck!” Tiffany said.

“I'm okay,” Lisa said.

Of course. Was she ever not cool?

“Wow, you'll get Zach for sure now!” Ginger said. “You'll be a celebrity!”

“That's true,” Lisa said, pouring Diet Pepsi into the other glasses.

That little smile was still on her face, and I wanted to smack it right off.

We went back to the living room and sat on the floor.

“What are you guys wearing to the dance next week?” Heather asked.

“I got a cute sweater and skirt just for the dance,” Ginger said.

“I have a pair of cream-colored leggings and a
very
short lemon skirt,” Lisa said. She grinned and threw her long mane of hair over one shoulder. “I don't mean to brag, but I look really good in it.”

I looked at Mary Ann and made a face, but she pretended she didn't see.

“I can't wait,” Ginger said, giggling. “I keep dreaming about what it'll be like. The music will be playing, and Sam will come over and ask me to dance. Boy, would I like to get romantic with him!”

I felt like throwing up.

“Just thinking about slow dancing with a boy gives me the shivers,” Sara said.

“Me too,” Tiffany said, and they both squealed.

“I have this nightmare sometimes,” Sara confided. “What if I go to the dance and everybody's dancing—except me?” She covered her face with her hands. “I'd just die.”

“Me, too,” Ginger said. “If Sam doesn't ask me to dance, I'll just have to ask him!”

“It would be too embarrassing to stand around because nobody wanted to dance with you,” said Heather. “I couldn't show my face at school for a week!”

I couldn't believe how important this stupid dance was to these girls. It made me sick.

“I hope Zach asks me to dance,” Lisa said.

“Who do you want to dance with, Mary Ann?” Heather asked.

Mary Ann's face got red. “I don't know.” She glanced over at me, then looked down at the Diet Pepsi in her hand.

“Don't you have a crush on anybody?” Ginger asked.

“Well—” She bit her lip. “No.”

As I mentioned before, Mary Ann is a rotten liar.

“Yes, you do!” all the girls shrieked at once. “Who is it?”

“Yes, Mary Ann,” I said. “
Who?
”

“Nobody,” she insisted. Her face was really red and for a second I thought she might cry.

There was an awkward silence.

“Who do you want to dance with, Lizard?” Ginger asked.

“I'm not going.”

“
What!
” they all said. “Why not?”

“It'll be boring.”

The girls were stunned. They looked at me as if
I
was the alien, which was kind of funny considering what I thought of them.

“Wow,” Ginger said. “How could anybody think a dance would be boring?”

“Pass the popcorn, will you?” I said to Lisa, even though I didn't feel like eating it.

Lisa handed me the popcorn. Then she picked up a pile of magazines from a small table.

“These magazines all have makeovers,” she said, passing them around. “They take plain-looking girls and do these miraculous makeovers and the girls turn out
beautiful.
”

I flipped through my magazine till I found the makeover page. I stared at the pictures. The woman in the “before” picture sure didn't look like the same person in the “after” picture. Of course, in the “before” picture she also looked like she needed a shower.

“We should send these anonymously to Shannon and her uncool friends,” Lisa said. “Have you seen those clothes they wear? They might as well wear sacks!”

“Yeah,” Ginger said. “Over their heads!”

The girls roared.

“Lizard, tell me about Sam,” Ginger said.

“You mean like, what's his favorite color?” I said it sarcastically, but she didn't seem to notice.

“Anything.”

“Well—he once made a belch last for eight seconds.” The girls howled. “Eight seconds! That's gross!”

At least they weren't talking about romance anymore.

“Speaking of setting records,” Sara said. “You know Meg Small?”

“Yeah,” Mary Ann said. “She's in most of my classes.”

Sara nodded. “Yeah, well, she got her period at the beginning of fifth grade!” She grinned. “You notice how quiet everyone got in gym class when Puff said we didn't have to shower if we had our period?”

The girls laughed.

“My sister says that Ms. Puff counts out the days between the times you say you're observing,” Mary Ann said. “If it's less than twenty-eight days, she thinks you're lying and lowers your grade.”

“You're kidding,” Heather said. “That's not fair.”

“I heard that, too,” Ginger said. “Last year a girl was helping Ms. Puff in her office, and she saw Puff doing exactly that.”

“My cousin gets her period every eighteen days,” Tiffany said.

“That poor girl!” said Ginger.

“Yeah, but it's unfair for Ms. Puff to lower your grade if you really
do
get your period every eighteen days,” said Tiffany.

“Maybe she'll make you get a note from your doctor to prove you're telling the truth,” said Mary Ann.

I couldn't imagine having to talk to Ms. Puff about something like that. I couldn't even imagine talking to my doctor about it.

“I just don't want to get my period during school,” Ginger said. “I've been praying a lot about that.”

“Wouldn't it be horrible?” said Mary Ann.

Ginger nodded. “There was a girl in my sister's class who started her period right in Mr. Maloney's class. I mean, she was bleeding hard.”

“Oh, no!” everyone gasped.

“I'd just die if Mr. Maloney knew I'd started my period,” Sara said.

I was horrified. What an awful thing to happen to a person! How could you show your face at school after that?

I felt a panicky feeling rising in my chest. Was there anything I could do to make sure that would never happen to me?

Lisa played a movie after that, but I couldn't concentrate on it. For the next few hours, even after the others had finally fallen asleep, I kept thinking about starting my period.

Everything seemed so out of control. I could keep myself from turning into a zombie. That was no problem. But there was something in me that would change, whether I liked it or not, and I couldn't do a thing about it.

I hoped I'd get my period while I was at home. And I decided that from now on, I'd keep a sweatshirt in my locker. I'd carry it around with me every day, even if it was a hundred degrees outside. Then if I started my period really hard, I'd tie it around my waist to cover up the red spot.

When I finally fell asleep, I dreamed about aliens taking over the brains of people on Earth.

9

I sat at my computer and googled it: menstruation, then clicked on the first source that came up. A diagram appeared, taking up most of the page. It showed the uterus, fallopian tubes, ovaries, egg, the whole bit. I'd seen all that in the film in fourth grade, and I wasn't particularly interested. What I really needed to know were the answers to my questions.

I scanned the article, but it didn't say much. A couple of sentences near the end of the article caught my eye.

During the time of blood flow, some women wear a
pad
or
feminine napkin.
Other women choose to use a
tampon,
made of absorbent material, which is worn internally.