Tales from a Not-So-Fabulous Life (20 page)

Both of us just stood there not saying anything. He was staring at me and I was staring at the ground.

Suddenly, Brandon dug deep into his pocket and fished out a wrinkled-looking piece of tissue.

“Um…I think you have…something on your face?”
“Probably SNOT!” I said sarcastically, and snatched the tissue from his hand.

“Yeah. Probably,” he said, trying hard not to smile. “Like…I dig those shoes!”

“They’re NOT shoes. They’re bunny slippers! I was in a REALLY big hurry this morning, okay!”

I blew my nose at him loudly and angrily. HOOONKK!

“So…um, it looks like you had a little accident with your project.”

“I wouldn’t call it ‘little.’”

“Well, if it will make you feel any better, MacKenzie is entering some life-size paper dolls. I’d say your painting is STILL better than hers. Even in twenty-seven pieces. With mud smeared on it. And a few worms.”

A mischievous grin slowly spread across Brandon’s face.

“Come on. Everyone knows you have more talent in your smallest burp than—”

“Yeah! I know. I KNOW…!” I said, interrupting him and blushing uncontrollably. I HATED when he did that to me!

Okay, even though I was mad at the world, I had to admit, this whole thing
was
a little funny. In a really bent sort of way.

Finally, I smiled at Brandon, and he winked at me. He was such a DORK! But in a good way. He had a slightly weird sense of humor and was friendly and a little shy ALL at the same time. And, unlike me, he didn’t obsess about what other people thought about him. I think THAT was probably the coolest thing about him.

“Thanks for the umbrella!”

“Hey, no prob!”

Then we both walked to the front entrance.

Even though the building was warm, I felt really chilled.

My slippers were soaked, and it seemed like I was wearing sponges dipped in ice water on my feet.

“I need to get my shoes out of my locker and then go to the office to call my dad. Hopefully, he can drop off some dry clothing.”

“So…I’ll walk you to the office, if you don’t mind. My class is on the way.”

As Brandon and I made our way down the hall, some people stopped and stared, while others pointed and laughed. But I just ignored them.

I knew I looked pretty crazy. With every step I took, my bunny slippers went
sloshie-squeak, sloshie-squeak, sloshie-sqeak,
and left small puddles of water behind me.

When I finally got to my locker, there was a large crowd of kids gathered around it. At first I
thought they were there for tattoos, but everyone quickly scattered.

Then I saw what they were looking at.

It felt like someone had punched me in my stomach so hard, I could hardly breathe. I covered my mouth and tried to blink back my tears for what seemed like the tenth time this morning.

Someone had written on my locker in what appeared to be Ravishing Red-Hot Cinnamon Twist lip gloss.

Which, BTW, was MacKenzie’s favorite.

“I—I’m really sorry!” Brandon stammered. “Only a real loser would do something as mean and stupid as…”

But I didn’t hear the rest of what he said.

I turned around, pushed my way through the crowded hallway, and went straight to the office to call my parents.

I couldn’t take it anymore!

I was leaving Westchester Country Day Middle School.

And NEVER coming back!

Today I stayed home from school with a cold and just lounged in bed all day and drank lemon tea.

The Tyra Banks show rocked, as usual, but for some reason, it didn’t cheer me up.

After my dad picked me up from school yesterday, I started thinking that maybe I was overreacting.

Watching my painting being smashed into a zillion pieces had been pretty traumatic, but it was mainly MacKenzie who was making my life miserable.

Maybe WCD wasn’t such a horrible place. Maybe if I tried talking to Chloe and Zoey, we could go back to being friends again. Maybe Brandon hadn’t written me off as a total loser.

So, on Monday afternoon, I called the library desk during fifth hour to talk to Chloe and Zoey.

Plus, I was a teensy bit curious about how
MacKenzie’s art project had turned out. Okay, I admit, I was DYING to know! My hands were trembling as I dialed the phone.

“Library front desk, Zoey speaking.”

“Hi, Zoey, it’s me, Nikki. I was just calling to see how you guys are doing. You’d NEVER believe what happened to me this morning.”

Then I heard Chloe’s muffled voice in the background.

“OMG! It’s her?! Just say you can’t talk right now because we’re really busy. We don’t have time to waste.”

“Um…what’s up, Nikki? Brandon told us everything that happened. Actually, he’s here right now. Too bad about your art project…,” Zoey stammered nervously.

“Yeah, I know. So, what are the three of you do—”

“Listen, Nikki, I really have to hang up now. We’re really busy with, um…a project. Chloe and Brandon said hi.”

“Wait, Zoey! I just wanted to—”

“Sorry, gotta go. See you tomorrow. Bye.”

CLICK!

After that conversation, there was no doubt in my mind that Chloe, Zoey, and Brandon practically hated me. So there wasn’t really anything left to do but make plans to transfer to a new school.

And have a really good CRY.

Which is what I’ve been doing on and off for the past twenty-four hours.

The only good thing
that’s come out of all of this is that my parents have been so worried about my emotional state, they’ve finally agreed to let me transfer to the nearby public school.

I thanked my dad for arranging the scholarship and all, but unfortunately it just hadn’t worked out.

Surprisingly, Mom and Dad took the news about their anniversary painting being destroyed really well.

I even promised I would paint them a new one, although Brianna insisted that she wanted to do it instead.

“Don’t worry, Mom and Dad! I’m almost done making you a brand-new anniversary present, and it’s way better than Nikki’s dumb ol’ painting!”

But I had a really bad feeling about Brianna’s art project.

When I asked her if she had used finger paints or crayons, she said, “Nope! A black permanent marker.
And I drew it over the couch in the exact same spot where your painting was hanging!”

Brianna said her drawing was called…

THE MAXWELL FAMILY VISITS PRINCESS SUGAR PLUM ON BABY UNICORN ISLAND

When Mom saw Brianna’s wall mural, she just about fainted. And then Brianna tried to get out of it by blaming Miss Penelope.

It was kind of nice to laugh again after feeling so hopelessly depressed.

My parents and I drove over to WCD forty-five minutes early so we could get everything taken care of before the students started arriving.

As Mom and Dad sat in the office chatting with the secretary and completing the school-transfer paperwork, I couldn’t help noticing the colorful displays off the main entryway for the art competition.

No matter how much I tried to convince myself I didn’t care, I just HAD to know if MacKenzie had won. It was like I was obsessed or something.

If I hurried, I could stop by the art competition for a few minutes and still have time to clean out my locker, get back to the office, and be out of the building before anyone spotted me.

“Well, I better get going,” I muttered to my parents. I grabbed the empty cardboard box I had brought to carry the junk from my locker and headed down the hall.

The art exhibit was set up in the large student lounge near the cafeteria and was divided by grades. I hurried past the sixth-and seventh-grade displays to the eighth-grade section. There were about 24 entries, and I immediately spotted MacKenzie’s.

Like everything she did, it was big, bold, and over the top. She had painted seven life-size mannequins dressed in her Fab-4-Ever fashions on six-foot-tall panels.

I had to admit, she was actually a pretty good fashion illustrator.

But the strange thing was that I didn’t see her first-place ribbon.

Although, knowing MacKenzie, she probably had already taken it home so her parents could have it bronzed to match her baby shoes.

Then again, maybe NOT.

I was surprised to see the blue ribbon was hanging on the very last display.

I couldn’t help pitying the poor artist who would have to put up with the drama over MacKenzie’s very public and humiliating defeat.

The winning display was a series of sixteen 8 x 10 close-up black-and-white photographs of inked artwork.

When I read the title and artist’s name,

I almost

FREAKED OUT!

I immediately recognized my tattoo artwork on Zoey’s shoulder, Chloe’s arm, Tyler’s neck, Sophia’s ankle, Matt’s wrist, and on and on.

So
this
must have been the “project” Chloe, Zoey, and Brandon were working on when they said they were too busy to talk to me on the telephone Monday afternoon.

Slowly but surely, the reality of the situation started to soak in.

I was like, “OMG! I WON first place in AVANT-GARDE ART! FIRST PLACE and five hundred dollars!”

Thanks to Chloe, Zoey, and Brandon! They must have cooked up this elaborate scheme after my painting got destroyed. And that fantabulous display with MY name on it had probably taken hours to complete.

I was SO wrong about them. They were the BEST friends EVER! And more than a dozen other kids
had volunteered to be photographed. All of this totally BLEW MY MIND!

Maybe WCD was not such a horrible place after all. I actually had real friends here. And of course, it didn’t hurt that I was now rich, rich, rich beyond my wildest dreams!

I hurried back to the office in a daze and burst inside.

“Mom, Dad! I’ve changed my mind. I want to stay!”

They both looked surprised.

“Honey, are you okay?” my mom asked, concerned.

“Actually, Mom, I’m GREAT! I’ve changed my mind. I want to stay. PLEASE!”

“Well, it’s up to you. Are you sure?” my dad said, putting down his pen.

“I’m sure. I’m REALLY sure!”

The secretary gathered the papers from my dad, ripped them in half, and tossed them into the wastebasket.

“This is great news!” She beamed. “And congratulations on your first place in the art show! You’re coming to the reception for the winners this Saturday, right? They’ll be giving out the cash awards, and the catered dinner is fabulous.”

My parents looked totally confused. “I thought you said you didn’t—,” my mom began, but I quickly interrupted her.

“Listen, I’ll explain all of this later. Like, don’t you both have somewhere to be?” I smiled and waved good-bye to them, hoping they would take the hint and get lost.

Mom kissed my forehead. “Okay, hon! We’re glad you’ve decided to hang in there.”

“Yeah, and you can thank Maxwell’s Extermination for hooking you up!” my dad said, and winked. “I
knew it would work out for you here, if you just gave it a chance.”

“Well, I gotta go! Oh. Here, Dad!” I tossed him the cardboard box. “Can you get rid of this for me?”

Then I turned and rushed out of the office.

Students were starting to fill up the halls, and a few actually congratulated me. As I made my way back to my locker, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect, but I was ready and willing to deal with it.

The graffiti had been cleaned up, thank goodness. But there was something new on my locker.

I knocked on the door of the janitor closet and then peeked inside.

Chloe and Zoey were sitting on the floor in a corner and looking pretty sad. I felt kind of sorry for them.

“We owe you an apology for the way we acted,” Chloe said. “We got really carried away with all of the tattoo and book stuff. And that wasn’t fair to you.”

“Yeah! And we learned who our real friends are too. The CCPs wanted to hang out with us as long as you were doing the tattoos. What a bunch of phonies!” Zoey added.

“Actually, I kind of figured that out too. That angry mob of cheerleaders was too scary!” I said, shuddering at the memory.

“Listen, please don’t be mad, Nikki!” Chloe said, starting to tear up. “But we have a confession to make…”

Zoey cleared her throat.

“Well, after we heard about the accident with your

painting, we rounded up the kids with your best tattoo artwork, and Brandon took pictures of them during lunch. Then he printed out the photographs on the computer in the newspaper office. Mrs. Peach let the three of us work on your entry the entire afternoon in the library. We called it
The Student Body
.”

“And you’ll never guess what happened,” Chloe sniffed, blinking back tears.

“I won!”

“YOU WON!!” they said together.

“Wait! You KNEW?!” Zoey asked, surprised.

“Yeah. I just found out a few minutes ago.”

“We know we shouldn’t have done it without asking you first. But there wasn’t time. You’re not mad at us, are you?” Chloe asked, and gave me jazz hands to try to lighten the mood.

“Actually, I am. I’m VERY ANGRY!” I hissed. Chloe and
Zoey both hung their heads and stared at the floor.

“We’re sorry. We were just trying to help…,” Zoey muttered.

“You’re supposed to be my friends. How could you two do this to me? I’m so TICKED! I would have given ANYTHING to have seen the look on MacKenzie’s face when she LOST!” I was trying so hard not to laugh that I was starting to snort.

At first, both girls blinked and looked bewildered. Then, slowly, smiles spread across their faces until they were grinning from ear to ear.

“OMG! Nikki, you should have seen her,” Chloe squealed. “When they announced you as the winner, she went into shock!”

“It was hilarious! MacKenzie threw a hissy fit right there in front of the judges!” Zoey snickered.

Pretty soon we were laughing and joking in the janitor’s closest, just like old times.

“Uh-oh! I think I just heard the first bell,” I groaned.

“Let’s get out of here before we start smelling like a mildewy mop!”

Chloe and Zoey opened the door, and then stood there waiting for me to leave first.

“Talent before…brains!” Zoey winked and then gave me the stink eye.

“Talent before…beauty!” Chloe grinned and then gave me jazz hands.

“Hey, girlfriends, I see the talent! But, other than me, there’s definitely no brains or beauty up in here!” I teased.

That’s when Chloe and Zoey both socked me on my arm. “OW!!” I giggled. “That hurt!!”