Alexis Gets Frosted (9 page)

“But you'll get a good grade!” she protested. “And you love good grades!”

“I know, but it's like buying a grade.”

“Lots of kids buy grades. I mean, that's what tutoring is, isn't it?”

“Maybe . . . ” (That made me stop and think. Maybe tutoring would be a good business to get into one day. Good hours, working with kids, doing stuff you already know how to do, being your own boss . . .)

“Earth to Alexis!” said Katie, and we laughed.

My mom took us for ice cream after the shopping, and we had a lot of fun.

We didn't run into anyone we knew, and that was just fine by me.

That night, as I lay in my bed in the dark, I thought about Olivia and why she makes me feel so bad. I think it's because she knows how to hit me where it hurts by accusing me of nerdiness and some kind of pigginess, as if all I do is think about food or sweets or homework. In general, I am having a great time living my life. I love school, I like working hard and getting good grades. I like running a business and making money, and I love my friends and family (except Dylan—not all the time, anyway). But I do sometimes wonder if I'm doing it all wrong. Like, maybe I should be out trying to run with the cool pack or not caring so much about doing well, but
instead relaxing more and just hanging out. Maybe I'm trying too hard to be a little adult. Maybe I
am
a nerd.

Am I?

Do I care?

“Yes, a little bit” is the answer to both, but I'm not going to do anything about it. Like I said, I'm mostly happy in my life. Except whenever I see Olivia.

I rolled over, thinking with dread about what attack she would come up with tomorrow and whether it would be quiet and mean or public and humiliating. I thought about apologizing, but also what I could then do or say to gain back my power from her.

Sighing deeply, I tried to come to terms with the idea that it wouldn't be something I could plan ahead for; it would just have to happen naturally. In the wild.

I
met Matt at school Monday morning before classes started. He was dropping off the plans so Katie and I could review them during lunch. It was a treat and a good omen. After all, if your week starts with a great interaction with your crush, you're starting from a position of strength. At least that's how I chose to see it (rather than that things could only go downhill from there).

He had the outer dimensions of the house plans ready to go and just had to put in the floor dimensions for the upper two stories. He said he'd have it for me by five o'clock today if I wanted to stop by after school. I wanted to hug him in gratitude, but I didn't have the nerve, so I just thanked him profusely.

“It was fun,” he said. “The notes from you and your granddad were good. Very detailed, but I'd expect nothing less.” He grinned.

“Thanks!” I said, choosing not to see this as a sign that he considered me a detail-obsessed nerd. I wished Olivia and her little flock would walk by me right now so they could see me laughing it up with Matt Taylor, supercutie! But of course they didn't. It did give me an idea, though.

I took a deep breath and screwed up my courage. “Hey, maybe when it's done, you can help me carry it to school on the presentation day? I think it's going to be a little heavy.”

“Sure, just let me know when,” he said, really easily, just like that.

Yessss!
I thought.
Eat your heart out, Olivia Allen!
But all I said was, “Okay, thanks! See you later!”

After Matt left, I walked slowly to homeroom, happily daydreaming about when he and I get married and how we'd run a big successful corporation of our own and have a couple of children who are really smart and really good dancers . . .

After homeroom I heard someone behind me say, “I hope you got your fill at the baking store this weekend. I thought that place was just for old grandmas.”

I didn't even need to turn around to see who it was.
Quack!
I reminded myself.
Quack! Quack!
But it wasn't working. I pretended I didn't hear her, but inside I was panicking.

Olivia continued, “Hey! I heard there's a new math store opening up. They're selling all the types of things that you love, like calculators and rulers and—”

“Quack!” I blurted, turning around to face her.

She froze.

“Quack! Quack! Quackquackquack!!!” I yelled.

I knew I had just sealed my fate as a nerd for life, but I was so angry, I had totally lost control. The small, careful part of my brain that was still working knew that quacking was better than yelling bad words at Olivia in the middle of school, but even if it kept me out of trouble, it would mean certain social death.

People around us were staring, and I knew it must've made a strange picture, her cringing and me towering over her, quacking loudly and red faced. I was shaking, though, and I didn't care right now what anyone else thought. I was just trying hard not to smack her.

Finally, she snapped to and said, “What-
ever
, weirdo!” and walked on, her head held high.

I stayed put, to give myself time to calm down and to let her get a head start away from me. A couple of kids were giving me odd looks, and I was embarrassed. I took a deep breath and then went to the girls' bathroom, where I took some sips of cold water and splashed my face. I was exhausted after my outburst, and wished I could just go to the nurse and ask to go home. Instead, because I am not a quitter, I trudged off to math, where I knew my enemy awaited me.

In class, Olivia and I avoided eye contact, and when the bell rang, she slipped out of her seat, racing for the door while I held back. At least she wasn't trying to continue the fight. I wouldn't have had the strength to face her again. I made my way to gym and the safety of my friends.

Of course, by the time I'd reached them, they'd already heard about the incident from other people. I was mortified the story had spread so quickly. I put my head in my hands and rocked it from side to side.

“Alexis! Stop doing that! Right now!” Mia commanded in a serious voice as she quickly scanned the gym.

I lifted my head. “What? Why?”

“Because you're a hero, but you're acting like a
loser!” she said, looking sharply back at me.

“What?” I was confused. I was a nerd, and I knew it.

Mia sighed in exasperation. “Kids are talking about how you stood up to Olivia Allen in the hall and won. If you act like you lost, the story will start to change. Get it?”

“Sort of,” I said.

“Just act proud,” said Emma.

“Really?” This was weird, because I did not feel proud at all.

“Yes.” Emma nodded. “Trust us.”

Our gym teacher, Mrs. Chen, kept us too busy to talk during class so I couldn't tell them what happened in detail. Finally at lunch we all got to sit down and talk.

“Now, what happened?” Katie asked, and I told them the whole story, including how Mom always told me to let things roll off my back.

Actually, the timing was perfect, because right as they were roaring with laughter, picturing me having a duck meltdown in the hall, Olivia walked into the lunchroom. She looked directly at me and my table of friends, laughing our heads off, and she turned on her heel and left.

“You just won,” said Katie, who'd been watching the door. “Did you see that?”

I nodded, but I didn't feel good about it. “It's not over.”

“I think you're wrong,” said Katie, shrugging.

“We'll see,” I said.

We planned a meeting for later that day at Emma's and then, at my insistence, talked about other stuff for the rest of lunch. But deep down inside I let myself relax a tiny bit. Maybe I
hadn't
committed sudden social death.

“Okay, a few things on the agenda today . . .,” I began at Emma's kitchen table that afternoon.

“Quack!” said Katie, and she giggled.

“Quack, quack!” said Mia.

“All right, enough!” I cried.

“Sorry,” said Mia with a smile.

I cleared my throat. “On the agenda—”

“Quack!” Emma peeped in a tiny voice.

“Stop!” I hollered, but I had to giggle.

“Quack! Quack! Quack!” They all were doing it at the same time.

I put down my ledger, where I keep track of everything. “Okay, you know what? Fine. Just get it out of your system, okay? We have a business to run
here, and we need to discuss some other important items, so when you are ready to act like mature people and not like idiots . . . ”

They quacked and laughed for another minute, and then we began for real.

“We have the shower this weekend, which we'll need to bake for on Friday, along with Mona's minis. We also have my mom's birthday, and I had a great idea. Since she's turning forty-four, we'll make forty-four cupcakes, eleven of each kind of the following: pear, something pink and ballerinaish, the strawberry shortcake she requested, plus the bacon ones for my dad. It will be a little cupcake buffet. Okay?”

Everyone nodded.

“No duck cupcakes?” asked Mia with a smile.

“No,” I said sharply. “Next, we have the time capsule project. I made a few notes on this.” I pulled out some spreadsheets and then distributed them. “As you can see, there's a checklist and then a Q&A section. Everyone needs to fill in their answers to the questions, and everyone should provide one of each of the items on the checklist. Just let me know what you think needs to be added or deleted. It's only a starting point.”

Emma was scanning the list. “This is going to
have to be a really big capsule!” she said.

“I know,” I agreed. “I was almost thinking instead of putting the actual items in, we should just take a picture of them . . . ”

“And we can put a printout of the pictures and a flash drive with everything on it!” finished Mia.

“Exactly,” I said, grinning.

“Great idea! Then the capsule can be really small!” said Katie.