Maggie Malone Makes a Splash (10 page)

Every other class is pretty much a repeat of Spanish class—socially speaking, anyway. The only break I get all day is during speech class, because it's the one class I don't share with any of my “friends.” When lunchtime finally arrives, I snatch my lunch bag from my locker and race over to the auditorium. I go to the back where all the costumes are hanging behind the red velvet curtain and climb between racks of smelly clothes and pull out my genie pocket mirror.

“Frank! Oh, Frank, best genie in the whole wide world!” I sing, hoping that a little appreciation might encourage him to show up faster and, I don't know, maybe stick around long enough so I can give him the full lowdown.

“Mags!” he says, his face coming into focus. “You're already back at school. Hey, nice work out there on the ocean! That's what I'm talking about. You figured it out and all on your own, Magpie—I told you that you could!”

“Oh that, yeah…thanks, Frank!” I say, smiling, because it
was
all kinds of awesome out there.

I was calling Frank for some genie advice on how to deal with these girls being so mean to me, but he gives me an idea.

“Hey, speaking of that, Frank,” I say in a nice, but hopefully not over-the-top sweet voice. “I'd like to take another spin as Marina Tide. Like right now, please. And thank you.”

Why not? I was super helpful on the
Sea
Angel
and jumping back into her life would be a quick escape out of my own life, which as of eight o'clock this morning has become the exact opposite of
all
kinds
of
awesome.

“Oh Maggie, darlin', you know that's not how it works,” Frank says, shaking his head. “You only get one day in somebody else's life. That's why I always say you'd better make it good!”

“Okay. I know, then I'll be somebody else lickety-split, Frank. Got any good ideas for me? I just have to run home and get the MMBs and—”

“Hold on there, cowgirl. You know the MMBs aren't about stepping into somebody else's life when things in your own life get tough,” Frank says, looking straight at me. I have to tell you, but when a genie looks you straight in the eyeballs, it's about impossible to look away. I see a colorful boat float by behind Frank and realize he's on a river somewhere.

“Where in the world are you, Frank?” I ask, because he is one globe-trotting genie.

“Early morning on the Ganges, Mags! India. You do
not
want to know what's in that water,” he says, motioning over his shoulder at the murky water behind him.

“Ewww,” I agree, taking his word for it. “I guess I don't.”

“You just saved a fragile, endangered coral reef, my dear,” Frank says and I can tell he's about to sign off.

“Wait, Frank!” I plead, falling against Mr. Mooney's crown and scepter.

“Now go
save
yoursel
f
!” he calls out just as his image turns back to my own.

Save myself? Genies!

At the end of the longest, loneliest school day of my life, I race cheetah-like to my locker and grab all of my gear. I'm hoping to make it to the bike rack quickly so that I can catch Elizabeth before she takes off for practice at Mountain View Pool. I know she's technically not speaking to me, but I'm determined to turn that around. Even though I booked it, when I get to the rack her turquoise ten-speed is already gone. I huff the six blocks to the pool feeling about as lonely as a stowaway mouse on a ship at sea.

I check in at the front desk and get a locker key. That makes me feel better for a split second. I don't know why, but I love having my own locker key. My miniature bubble bursts before I even get to the locker-room door. How am I going to get Elizabeth to forgive me when she won't even
talk
to me? She has to come around sooner or later, doesn't she? I just wish I knew how to make it sooner. The whole point of this stupid swim team was to do it together, to be a part of something. And right now, the only thing I'm part of is a big, fat nothing.

I take a deep breath and push open the locker-room door. Most of the swim team is in there getting ready, and every head in the room swings to look at me. Nobody says a word. “Hi guys!” I say as brightly as I can. My words echo off the tile walls. If my life were a movie, they'd be playing a sound track of crickets right now.

“Want to do a few warm-up laps before practice starts?” Brianna asks Elizabeth, totally ignoring me and linking her arm through my friend's. Elizabeth gives me the Look (“Oh yeah, Maggie, she's really making my life
miserable
here.”) before turning to parade out the side door to the pool, arm-in-arm with the Mountain View Monster.

I wait until everyone else shuffles out, and then I tuck into a bathroom stall and try not to cry.
Get
it
together, Malone. You can fix this. You can! You stopped a pair of cold, hard criminals from destroying something endangered and beautiful yesterday! And you convinced everyone on that boat that people they thought they could trust were rotten to the core. Of course, you had Zac's help with that one. Who can help you now? Think. THINK!

“MALONE, ARE YOU IN HERE?” A male voice booms through the locker room.

“Coming, Coach!” I shout back, hoping he's not actually
in
the
room
looking for me.

“Well, hurry it up. I'm waiting right outside and I need to talk to you,” he barks.

I quickly splash some water on my face, grab my towel and goggles, and head toward the huge glass door that leads to Mountain View's famous pool. When I swing the door open, Coach King is waiting outside it, just like he promised. “Brianna says you didn't want to do your practice laps today,” he says before I can even get a word out.

“Well, actually, sir, that's not exactly—”

Coach King cuts me off.

“Listen, Malone, you're part of this team, and like it or not, I'm the boss of this team. I made it pretty clear that you had some work to do, and Brianna was nice enough to offer to help you. Turn her down again and I'll have to seriously consider removing you for good.” He turns and strides off toward the pool, where the rest of the team is waiting.

“But Coach—” I say, following him. My voice echoes through the gigantic tiled room. “That's not—”

Brianna has picked up on what's happening and she jumps right in.

“It's okay, Maggie,” she says in a sickeningly sweet voice. “We can work on your strokes tomorrow if you want. I'd be
more
than happy to do that for you. Even though, you know, today…”

“But you never offered to swim with me today!” I wail. “You didn't. In fact, you didn't even say
hello
to me.” I'm making a bit of a scene here, but I am downright furious.

She's lying through her teeth!

“I did too,” Brianna shrieks, even louder than me. “Didn't I, Elizabeth? Didn't I offer to help Maggie today, and didn't she say
no
right to my face? And wasn't she totally rude about it on top of it all?”

Everyone looks at Elizabeth.
Come
on, friend. Don't throw me under the bus! You were right there, and you know for a fact that she's totally lying. Do the right thing, pretty-please-with-sugar-on-top.

Elizabeth opens her mouth to say something, then closes it. Instead, she nods her head just the tiniest bit.

I'm not sure, but I think the tiny gasp that comes out of my own mouth is the sound of my heart ripping in half.

Every day at school for the rest of the week is pretty much a repeat of my terrible Tuesday. It doesn't take a super sleuth to figure out that Elizabeth went around and told all of our friends that I'm a lying, conniving sack of sour snails and so nobody—I mean, nobody—wants to have anything to do with me. Here's what I don't get: Why was Elizabeth so quick to believe the worst? And also, why was everybody else so willing to join forces with her?

My mom says this sort of thing is just part of middle school. That's pretty depressing considering I'm in the sixth grade and have two more years of this. Frank says it's up to me to save myself. I'm starting to think that's his genie stock answer for everything, but in this case, I'm pretty sure he's right. I mean, I don't see anybody else stepping up to the plate to swing for me.

I just deal with Wednesday and Thursday and look forward to Friday afternoon when I can hang out with Stella and we can ride our bikes to Dippin' Donuts and eat double-dunked chocolate doughnuts as big as flying saucers. But when Friday finally rolls around, I remember I have swim team practice.
Ugh!
I huff it up the hill to the Mountain View Pool, walk into the locker room, and pull out my swimsuit. If I could set this ugly one-piece on fire, I would. But obviously I can't do that. I have to come up with another plan, and so far I've got nothing. So I'm sitting on the toilet. More like crouching on top of the seat so no one can see me.

Someone walks into the bathroom. I peek through the crack between the stall and the door and see that it's Brianna. Luckily she can't see me. She's swinging a pair of goggles around her index finger and talking in a voice that sounds an awful lot like one of those evil queens in a Disney movie.

“Let's see how well you swim the fifty-yard freestyle without your goggles, Elizabeth O'Connor,” she says into the mirror and then breaks into a devilish laugh as she shoves the goggles to the bottom of the towel bin. Once she's satisfied that the goggles will never be found, Brianna turns, clasps her tiny hands behind her back, and whistles as she leaves the bathroom. I slide off the pot, sneak out of the stall, and fish out Elizabeth's goggles. I wrap them in my towel and head for the door.

Coach blows his whistle just as I hit the deck. “Okay, we've got to get you guys ranked today for the meet,” he says. “Brianna, Elizabeth, Ellie, and Amanda, on your blocks.”

Everyone goes over to their hook, takes their goggles, and pulls them down across their eyes. Everyone except Elizabeth. I'm not sure how to break the news that I've got them.

“Coach?” Elizabeth says, confused. “My goggles are gone. I put them on the hook and now they're gone.”

“Well, Elizabeth, if you put them on the hook, don't you think they'd still be on the hook?” Coach asks, squinting his eyes.

“I
know
they were there, Coach. I—” Elizabeth starts, but Coach interrupts her.

“Go home and read your rule book, Elizabeth,” he says sharply. “You either show up with all of your gear, ready to practice, or you sit out the next meet. Jennifer, you're up!”

“But I promise, I…” Elizabeth says and looks like she's definitely going to cry.

“Save it!” Coach says, holding up his huge hand like a stop sign.

“Wait, aren't these your goggles, Elizabeth?” I call out, holding hers up.

“Yes! Yes, they are!” Elizabeth cries. She rushes over to me, looking relieved and also more than a little bit confused.

Brianna narrows her eyes at me. “Wait,” she screams. “Those aren't Elizabeth's goggles! Maggie is just trying to cover for her!”

“Actually Brianna, these
are
my goggles,” Elizabeth says, holding them up for Brianna to see. “See,
EO
? My initials. My mom makes me put them on everything. But how did
you
get them, Maggie?”

Every eye on that pool deck is on me and I can feel my face turning purple.

“I found them in the locker room,” I say.

“She's lying, Dad!” Brianna yells. “She took them!”

“Really?” Coach asks. “Why would the second alternate bother to steal anybody's goggles? And more importantly, why would she give them back?” He sounds more than a little impatient.

“I don't know,” Brianna says, pouting. “But I know she took them.” She points at me when she says this.

“Well, it looks like you know wrong and you're wasting everyone's time here,” he says, turning away dismissively. “As I was saying, swimmers, on your marks!”

Brianna gives me a seriously scary stink eye. I pretend not to see her.

“Tell me the truth, Maggie,” Elizabeth says after practice as we're packing up our stuff. “How did you get my goggles?”

“You think I took them, don't you?” I ask Elizabeth, my heart sinking. I can hear Stella's words ringing in my ears:
If
she's not smart enough to trust you, you're better off without her
.

“No, actually I
know
you wouldn't do that,” Elizabeth says. “But I also know that I put them on my hook. So something's up. Just tell me.”

“Brianna took them and hid them in the towel bin,” I tell her. “I was in the bathroom stall and I saw her do it.”

“I had a feeling she had something to do with it,” Elizabeth says, shaking her head. “But why didn't you call her out? She'd have been automatically disqualified for that!”

I shrug. “I guess I was getting tired of people not believing me,” I tell her. ”Besides, won't it be way more fun to beat her fair and square?”

Elizabeth nods and smiles at me, and I want to explode with happiness. She forgives me! We're friends again! I can't wait to tell Frank that I actually did it. I saved myself by being myself.