Eighth-Grade Superzero (25 page)

“Hey, you want to meet during the break to work on the documentary proposal?”

“Yeah, let’s do that,” I say. “Joe C.'s already got some good ideas for the sound track too. I told him the theme is everyday heroes of New York City.”

“Yeah, that’s cool.” Vijay points to Joe C. on stage. “He’s good.” Veronica walks by. “Later, dude,” says Vijay, following her.

“Reggie? Are you okay?” I look up. It’s George Henderson. He’s wearing a velvet tux.

“Oh, hi, George. Just daydreaming. Are you having a good time?”

He nods. “Absolutely. And I’ve got my real outfit ready too. I’m waiting for the rest of the LARPers to get here.” Blaylock is walking up to the microphone. “Hey, it must be time to announce the results. I think you really have a shot — I’m proud to have been a part of your campaign.”

“Thank you,” I say. “You helped out a lot.”

“People paid attention to you,” he says. “I think you’re gonna win.”

“Either way, we’ve got a lot of work ahead of us,” I say. “I’m glad to have you on the team.”

Blaylock gets up to the microphone. “Young ladies and gentlemen, I want to thank all of you for making this year’s election a success. I am proud of the way that
most
of the candidates comported themselves. Your campaigns exemplified the principles of civic responsibility and community service that we hold dear here at Clarke. I am pleased to see our student body take an interest in—”

“Just get to the results!” shouts Ms. A.

Blaylock frowns. “Without any further ado, the new president of Clarke Junior School is …”

Joe C. turns on an electronic drumroll. Ruthie blows me a kiss. Mialonie is dragging Josie over to me and smiling.

I look up and say a quick prayer. I guess it can’t hurt.

“You don’t need me to tell you some crap about how even though you lost, you really won, right?” Joe C. is storyboarding opening scenes for the documentary. Mom and Pops are in the kitchen making dinner together. Joe C. brought Juiced! for everyone. Ruthie’s late.

“No, especially since you make it sound so good.” I look at him. “But don’t you have any inappropriate facts or weird trivia to distract me from the fact that Justin crushed me?”

“No, I’m done with that for good,” he says. “Maria made me quit.”

“How’d she do that?” I ask. “She must be a miracle worker.”

“She threatened to start inundating me with nineties boy band trivia,” he says.

“Ooh, that’s cold,” I say, laughing.

“Sucks that Justin will get to be the one accepting that giant check for the grant money from the mayor,” says Joe C. I shrug as the doorbell rings.

“That’s probably Ruthie,” I say.

“I’ll go down with you,” he says, smirking. “Unless you want a minute alone together first.”

I start to tell him to come on, and then I think about it.

“You’ve got a point,” I say.

When I get downstairs, Ruthie is standing there, smiling at me and holding a bag of Doritos and a thick book that looks like a scrapbook. “Merry Christmas,” she says. “What’s this?” I ask, taking the book.

“Joe C. gave me all of your
Night Man
outlines and his drawings, and I had them bound,” she says. “I read them — I hope you don’t mind. It’s so good. You write a good story, and it … has truth. I should have known.”

I flip through the book. It’s beautiful. She’s beautiful. I set it down on the steps.

“It kind of trails off, though,” she says. “You have to finish it. How does it end?”

I couldn’t have written myself a better opening. I grab her and bend her backward until we’re both almost horizontal. She drops the Doritos. Before she can say anything else, and before we both fall, I kiss her.

I’m not going to get all sappy and soft, and say anything like Ruthie’s lips are unbelievably sweet.

I’ll just say that it’s good. Very, very good. And I’m pretty smooth, if I do say so myself.

I guess it’s a good time to roll the credits.

But this is only the beginning.

To the Tara Belle Girls, The Take Charge/Be Somebody kids, The Peace of My Mind crew, and all of the young people I’ve known — your stories are precious and powerful.

To the YaYaYas (Kate M. division), Paula’s Kids, The Debs, Tenners, and all of you wonderfully supportive folk of the kidlit community.

To The Incomparable Editrix, Cheryl Klein, for wading through the slush and lavishing Reggie with the love and respect he deserved all along.

To my extraordinary friend and agent Erin Murphy, who is always on my side.

To my dear friend Paula, whose boundless love and generosity of spirit is everlasting, and Madeleine for the perfect writing advice.

To my awesome Writer Buddy who knows good pizza, good books, and is truly good people.

To Yumi Glassman, my amazing gift of a friend and little sister, who never got the manuscript but gets me like no one else.

To the ladies of BSF; Linda, an original “agent of positive change”; Pamela; Ki; Thal; Nantz, who walks every little step with me; Black Ev the Ghostface Killah and true superhero; prayer warriors and lifelong soul sisters Mel-ski-rock and Wend2xBass; David, who put on that bandanna and helped me through those hardest days; Kate, Mama P, Auntie Xie Xie and all of my “other mothers”: You restore me, and for you I give thanks.

To my family: my daughter, the most wonderful storyteller I know, who inspires me daily; my sister, my lifelong cheerleader, ever-willing reader, and incredible survivor; my huge-hearted husband, who laughs in the face of irascibility, and never doubts that all will be well, and my parents, who knew I could do it, and loved me through it, no matter what it was. (Thank you, Mommy, for telling me to talk back.) No words can express my love for you all.

To the Author, whose grace allows me to revise every day, and whose unconditional love gives me life.

Thank you.

OLUGBEMISOLA RHUDAY-PERKOVICH
is the daughter of a Nigerian fatherand a Jamaican mother, and married to a man of Croatian descent. She was born in New York City, and she was the “new kid” at school many times, in more than one country. As an adult, she studied writing with Paula Danziger and Madeleine L’Engle. She now lives with her family in Brooklyn, New York, where she loves working on crafts in many forms. Please visit her website at www.olugbemisola.com.

Copyright © 2010 by Olugbemisola Rhuday-Perkovich
Cover illustration © 2010 by LaFrench
Cover design by Christopher Stengel

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Rhuday-Perkovich, Olugbemisola.
   Eighth-grade superzero / Olugbemisola Rhuday-Perkovich. — 1st ed.
     p. cm.
   Summary: After half-heartedly joining his church youth group’s project at a homeless shelter near his Brooklyn middle school, eighth-grade “loser” Reggie McKnight is inspired to run for school office on a platform of making a real difference in the community.
   ISBN 978-0-545-09676-8 (alk. paper) [1. Homeless persons — Fiction. 2. Voluntarism — Fiction. 3. Politics, Practical — Fiction. 4. Middle schools — Fiction. 5. Schools — Fiction. 6. Conduct of life — Fiction. 7. African Americans — Fiction.] I. Title.
   PZ7.P4318Ei 2010
   [Fic] — dc22

2009019850

FIRST EDITION, JANUARY 2010

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E-ISBN 978-0-545-34844-7