Totally Toxic (14 page)

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Authors: Zoe Quinn

BOOK: Totally Toxic
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was Friday afternoon, last class period—Intro to French. Mademoiselle fmkelstein was conjugating verbs, but I just couldn't get into it. I had a lot on my mind.

I'd taken the test on Tuesday, but Grandpa had to mail it to the Superhero Federation to be graded, and who knew what kind of backlog they were dealing with in the test-correcting department? It was a little freaky trying to imagine all the other Super kids around the world studying and taking the first-level test, just like I had. Freaky, but fascinating. I wondered if I'd ever get to meet any of them. Maybe there was a superhero Christmas party. Or a big Superhero Federation company picnic, with pie-eating contests and sack races and stuff. Now, that would be something to see! I'd have to ask Grandpa about it. But for now, I was just aching to find out how I'd done on my first assessment. Had I passed? Had I aced it? Or had I totally crashed and burned and they'd zap it back
to me with a big fat F written across the top? The suspense was making me nuts.

Being grounded hadn't helped, either. It didn't make me feel any better to know that Josh and Howie had been given the same punishment I had. Boy, did I miss my freedom.

Not that Emily would have been available to hang out even if I'd been allowed to invite her. She was with Caitlin every single minute, it seemed. Shopping, baking, doing yoga with Caitlin's aunt Nina. Not that I would have wanted to join in on
that. Thzt
woman gave me the creeps. Maybe it had to do with the fact that I was such a hot fudge fan; I just couldn't bring myself to trust a person who actually preferred carob to good old-fashioned chocolate. I knew this because it was all Caitlin could talk about. And it seemed to me that she made a special point of inviting Emily to do stuff when I was around. She'd smile and say in that too sweet, too friendly voice, “Why don't you join us, Zoe?”And then she'd look all embarrassed and say,”Oops, I forgot. You're still grounded.”

I was pulled from my miserable thoughts when Mademoiselle fmkelstein reminded us that we had a quiz on Monday. Then the bell rang and class was over.

“I don't mind tests,” Emily remarked as we gathered up our books. “I just can't stand waiting to find out how I did.”

“Oui
, indeed,” I replied, cracking a smile. “I totally agree.”

After class I walked with Emily to the athletic fields. She was staying after school to play in an intramural soccer game. I would have liked to stay and play, too, but I was grounded. And
besides, after the laser beam episode during my test, I was a little wary about playing competitive sports just yet. I didn't want to accidentally blow up the goalie or something.

“You've had a pretty boring week,” Emily said, strapping on her shin guards. “You being grounded is almost like me being grounded—you know what I mean? After all, I have my best times with my best friend. Caitlin keeps inviting me to do stuff, but she gets into these weird moods, you know? She can be completely overbearing one second, and the next she's like totally needy.”

So Emily didn't think Caitlin was the coolest thing since cable TV after all! Just hearing that made me feel a little better.

“Caitlin's okay,” Emily continued. “I guess we're friends. But not best friends, like you and me.”

“You're right,” I said, feeling proud to be BFFs with a person as smart and secure as Emily. “Sorry if I've been kind of sulky.”

“Oh, please!” Emily waved off the comment and pulled on a soccer jersey over her T-shirt. “Being grounded would make anyone crazy! But we're cool. We're always cool.” By then, the intramural teams were lining up on the sidelines. Emily and I said good-bye. I watched for a minute as she jogged over to join her team.

Then I—the grounded superhero—headed home.

Saturday, I woke up late. Some non-Super part of me must have still been worn out from the test on Wednesday. When I looked out of my bedroom window, Mom and Dad were already loading the car for the rally. I brushed my teeth and threw on some clothes as fast as I could without going all-out Super and was outside in a matter of minutes. After all, this wasn't just my first chance to go somewhere other than school and home since being grounded (apart from the superhero test, of course). Josh would be at the rally, and there was no way I was going to miss a chance to see him.

“Let's go show that factory owner what we think of him!” I said, hopping into the backseat and buckling my seat belt.

“Remember,” said Dad, turning the key in the ignition. “We're going to keep this calm and orderly.”

Mom and I exchanged looks and giggled.

“Yes, sir, Detective Richards, sir!”

Dad made a funny face and called us a “couple of wise guys,” and we were off to the rally.

I couldn't believe how many people had shown up outside the factory. We had to park quite a distance from the gate, but after a long walk we were in the middle of the action. I wished Emily had come along. She would have gotten a kick out of all the different crazy outfits people were wearing. One guy had dressed up like a giant box of laundry detergent with a skull and crossbones painted on it. Em would have appreciated the drama.

There were people carrying hand-painted signs and banners. Someone was handing out little flags with the Sweetbriar town crest on them. There was a man with a bullhorn reminding everyone that the earth belonged to us all and no one should be allowed to pollute it…. The usual protest-type stuff.

I recognized several faces from Mom's meeting. Mrs. Devlin was leading the group in a chant:
“find a solution to end the pollution! This is an order

don't mess with our water! Abide by our wishes, stop killing the fishes!”

Dad gave Mom a hug for luck before he went to join the uniformed police officers near the front of the crowd. I could see in his eyes that he still had some reservations about it all. I guessed it was hard to be an activist's husband and a police officer at the same time.

“Is it okay if I go find Josh and Howie?” I asked my mother.

“Go ahead,” said Mom, handing me a picket sign. “But be careful. Stay where you can see me or Dad at all times. And don't
wander off. And if things get rowdy, I want you to go straight to the car and wait for us there.”

“Okay.”

Before she could issue any more warnings, I plunged into the mass of protesters.

“Hey, Zoe!”

Someone up ahead was waving like crazy.

“Emily? Is that you?” I ducked around a tall guy holding a banner that said
EARTH: LOVE IT OR LEAVE IT.
Then I squeezed between two women wearing matching Greenpeace T-shirts and shouldered my way toward the gate. My Best Friend Forever was waiting there for me, smiling her head off.

“Surprise!” she cried.

I threw my arms around her.”You're here!”When I finally let go of her, she gave me a badge hand-lettered in bright blue and electric purple. It had sliver glitter glued around the edge. It said
Keep Our River Clean.

“Pin it on,” she said. “Everyone's wearing them.”

I glanced around and saw that she was right. “Where'd they come from?” I asked.

“I made them! You know, for the rally. Because it's important to you, and that means it's important to me!”

My mouth dropped open. “Wow. Thanks!”

Emily pointed to the badge she was wearing—pink glitter, orange and yellow lettering. “Like the designs? They're part political statement, part fashion statement.”

Suddenly, a roar went up from the crowd. Em and I turned our attention from the badges to the gate, which was slowly opening.

“It's George Mitchell,” someone beside me whispered as a tall,
gray-haired man walked out. He was wearing a dark suit that somehow managed to look a hundred times more expensive than any of Dad's. He was flanked by two burly guys in (less expensive-looking) dark suits and sunglasses, with their hands clasped behind their backs. My gut told me that when these two were schoolkids, they'd spent an awful lot of time in detention for bullying littler guys on the playground.

Mr. Mitchell held up his hands for silence—I was impressed by this show of strength, given the size of the gold watch on his left wrist—and the crowd quieted.

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