Bad News/Good News Page 2

  In fact, Maeve always seemed to bounce back quickly. Before she’d had time to be upset about Nick, she’d decided she was really interested in Billy, one of the Trentini twins. That hadn’t lasted long, either. Not since she had discovered Dillon Johnson, a boy in their homeroom who was every bit as high-spirited as Maeve. Now Dillon was on Maeve’s mind every minute of the day and night, and she wasn’t exactly shy about expressing her feelings. “I think today Ms. Rodriguez is going to change our desks around,” Maeve bubbled over, as she and Charlotte charged up Harvard Street toward their school. “If only she moves me next to Dillon…” She pretended to swoon.

  “Earth to Maeve!” Charlotte chided her. “We have to get to school before we can actually find our desks—remember?”

  Despite Maeve’s effervescent personality and upbeat humor, she had her share of problems. She had dyslexia, which meant she had to use a laptop in class to take notes, and she had to take all of her quizzes and exams in the Learning Lab. The fact that Maeve’s little brother Sam had an IQ of about a million didn’t make her life any easier. Her mother also gave her a hard time. Carol worried constantly about Maeve’s learning disability. She seemed to think that the best approach was to cram every second of Maeve’s life with lessons—she packed her after-school schedule so tightly that Maeve hardly had a spare minute to herself. It took ingenuity, Maeve confided in her friends, to be able to find a second of free time for herself. But Maeve had plenty of ingenuity, so her free time remained a protected (if endangered!) resource.

  BOYS AND BELLS

  “So, I have news,” Maeve told Charlotte, breathing a little harder as they hurried. “My mom got a call last night from Ms. Fitzgerald—you know, Betsy’s mom? She’s president of the PTO…”

  She never got to finish her sentence. The two girls were already running up the steps of the Abigail Adams School. Their junior high had two sections—one old, one new. The old yellow brick middle part had stone steps, double front doors, lanterns, a steep roof, and a clock tower—the epitome of old New England. The two newer, low sides pointing toward the street were just big, ugly yellow rectangles. Charlotte and Maeve hurried up to the seventh-grade entrance. As usual, Ruby Fields, the school principal, was greeting kids as they arrived on the front steps. Mrs. Fields was an amazing principal—she went out of her way to get to know each of the students by name. She was a firm believer in school community, and she liked to shake hands and say hello to as many students as she could every morning.

  “Hello, Charlotte,” she said warmly, her dark eyes smiling as she gave Charlotte’s hand a quick squeeze. “Good morning, Maeve. How was your weekend?”

  “Ummm…busy, Ruby…Oops! I’m sorry. I mean, Mrs. Fields,” Maeve said, blushing deeply. Mrs. Fields was their friend Katani Summers’ grandmother. “Lots of homework,” she added quickly, blushing even more deeply when Mrs. Fields gave her a quizzical smile. When Mrs. Fields’s penetrating gaze turned on you, it always felt like she could see straight through you right to your very core!

  “Lots of homework—which I didn’t do,” Maeve added to Charlotte under her breath with a sigh, as they moved away from their principal and into the front lobby of the school. “I mean, I meant to, but it took me forever just to read the first chapter of To Kill a Mockingbird. Did you even understand that book?” She giggled. “Thank heavens they made it into a movie!”

  Charlotte didn’t want to admit that she’d actually read ahead. She loved reading about Scout and Atticus.

  “Maeve,” Charlotte said gently, as they weaved their way through the crowded front hall of the school. “You shouldn’t lie to Mrs. Fields! Anyway, she’s the one who likes to remind us that it’s important for kids to have fun. She wouldn’t want you to spend your whole weekend doing homework.”

  “I know—but I overdid the fun this weekend,” Maeve confessed. “I was helping my parents at the theater, and they got these amazing new movies in that I just had to help them preview, and then of course—” she sighed, “I started IM-ing—and before I knew it…” She shrugged, smiling. “There went the weekend!” She grabbed Charlotte’s arm. “Look—Dillon’s over there! Shouldn’t we just…”

  Charlotte practically had to yank Maeve by the arm to pull her over to the cluster of seventh-grade lockers. Kids were milling around, opening up their lockers to put away their jackets and books. The inside door of each locker was personalized with stickers, drawings, initials, and pictures. Charlotte’s locker, #117, had a mini corkboard inside it, covered with colorful buttons—and photos of: Orangina, the cat she had to leave behind, Sophie, her best friend in Paris, in a silly pose in front of the Eiffel Tower, and Charlotte and her dad in snorkeling gear in Port Douglas. A picture from Nature magazine of Orion, the Hunter—one of the few constellations visible from both the Northern and Southern hemispheres. And, of course, a big picture of Marty, his head cocked in his usual adorable way. Across the bottom of the corkboard, Charlotte had posted a sticker from Earth Day that her dad had given her. It said in big green letters, “BE KIND TO THE PLANET—IT’S THE ONLY ONE WE’VE GOT!”

  Maeve’s locker was on one side of Charlotte’s, and Nick Montoya’s was on the other. Maeve’s locker—notoriously messy—had papers sticking out through the locker’s grates on both the top and the bottom. Maeve didn’t seem to notice. “Anyway,” she was saying cheerfully, twirling her locker combination, “I’ve got major news. And this doesn’t just affect me, either, it affects everyone!”

  “What affects everyone?” Avery Madden demanded, dashing up with her skateboard tucked under one arm. Avery had only gotten her skateboard a week ago, and already it seemed like an extension of her body. Charlotte smiled, watching Avery and Maeve almost collide in front of their lockers. It was hard to believe two more different girls could be such good friends. Small, dark-haired, and fiercely intense, Avery was energy in motion. You could pretty much guarantee Avery would’ve spent her whole weekend on the soccer field. She was the top goalie in the seventh grade! You wouldn’t ever catch Avery in anything other than her sweats or gym clothes.

  Avery was adopted. Her parents were from Boston, but she had been born in Korea. Avery had come to America when she was just a few months old. Now her mom and dad were divorced, so she spent time with her dad mostly on vacations. She and her two older brothers, Scott and Tim, lived with their mother in a big sprawling house in Brookline. Avery was short, not even five feet, but she was amazingly strong and quick. Charlotte loved Avery because she questioned life. She had a keen sense of right and wrong, and was the last kid to accept just anything because someone told her that’s how it should be. And she could sometimes blurt out whatever was on her mind. As Maeve liked to point out, sensitivity was not exactly Avery’s strong point. Even so, I bet she’ll change the world one day, Charlotte thought. But she may step on a few toes along the way!

  Charlotte’s father had come up with a great description for Avery. He said she was like a photon, a tiny particle of energy. Charlotte didn’t think she’d ever seen Avery sitting still. Avery adored sports and games of all kinds. Put any kind of ball in front of her and she was happy. She loved motion—jumping, gliding, and sliding. If she couldn’t be outside, she’d be the first to invent an indoor game to play. She was addicted to cards and was an ace chess player. And…she was crazy about dogs, particularly Marty. “After all, she was the one to find him.”

  But Avery had her own issues, too. It wasn’t always easy being shuffled back and forth between her mom’s house and her dad’s home in Colorado. Worse, her mom couldn’t understand the fact that Avery would much rather play pickup basketball than go to an art museum or to Symphony Hall. Lately, her mother was on a new crusade to get Avery interested in classical music. She said it stretched the size of your brain. Personally, Avery thought it was boring! Even worse, her father, who was a total sports fanatic, seemed to think that her older brothers were the only ones who would appreciate tickets to a Red Sox game. And of course, there was the whole
girly-girl dress thing with her mother. Life, Avery thought with a sniff, was sometimes the opposite of fair.

  “Don’t let it bother anyone,” Avery said now, stuffing her soccer bag into her locker, “but the homeroom bell’s gonna ring in about five seconds.” She rolled up her sleeve, squinting down at a message she’d written to herself on her arm. This was a new habit of Avery’s—she claimed her arm was the best place for important messages. “Don’t forget math homework,” she read out loud, reaching back into her locker for another notebook. “I like this system,” she added, inspecting the writing on her wrist. “It takes the idea of a Palm Pilot to new levels.” She grinned. “Think Ms. Rodriguez would mind if I skated into class?”

  Maeve giggled, picturing Avery flying over the desks like the girl on the cover of her skateboard magazine. “You know she’d kill you. ‘Skateboards in lockers, please,’” she added, impersonating their favorite teacher.

  Avery opened her locker, trying to cram her skateboard inside.

  “Avery,” Charlotte said, wrinkling her nose, “What on earth have you got in there?” She leaned forward and fished a wad of old gym clothes out of Avery’s locker. Laughing, she said, “How can you ever find anything in that mess?”

  Avery laughed. “Are you kidding? I’ve got a whole year’s worth of clothes in here. Soccer shorts…soccer socks…cleats…that’s all you need, right? This is like having your clothes closet right here at school!”

  “Hey, guys!” Katani Summers walked over from her locker. She smiled at Charlotte’s expression of horror over Avery’s locker. “Avery, I think it’s time for one of my famous locker-makeovers. Don’t worry. My services are free for friends…at least the first time.” She narrowed her eyes a little. “Although yours looks like quite a challenge,” she admitted. She pretended to take a whiff and drew back in horror. “Phew! Maybe some jasmine-scented air-freshener…”

  The girls laughed—even Avery. Katani’s design sense was legendary. Tall and dark-haired, Katani put her own fashion touch on everything she did. She had a great sense of style and a confident personality to match. Some kids thought she could seem a little aloof on occasion, but Katani was a warm and loving friend once you got to know her. She would do absolutely anything for Maeve, Charlotte, or Avery if they really needed her. Ten minutes with her prized sewing machine, her signature vintage fabrics, and some rhinestones, and Katani could pull something together that looked straight off the cover of a magazine. She was that talented! Fashion and business were her two passions. For as long as she could remember, Katani had been saving money from babysitting, and finally saved almost enough to buy a few shares of stock in a company, and she couldn’t wait! Katani’s mother was going to help her—it was one of her strong beliefs that girls should learn more about business so they could stand on their own two feet.

  Katani lived with two of her three sisters, her mom and dad, and her grandmother, Ruby Fields, the principal of Abigail Adams Junior High. They shared a two-family in Brookline—Katani’s mother called it “cozy,” but Katani thought it was just plain small. Sharing a room with her sister Kelley meant absolutely no privacy. It also meant she had to be super organized, because Kelley, who was mildly autistic, couldn’t keep anything together. The good thing was that Katani loved order, anyway. She kept everything in her bedroom—buttons, shoes, ribbons—all boxed up, labeled, and super neat. Katani liked her world that way.

  Much as Katani loved control, things were far from perfect in her world. Katani did her best to keep her issues to herself—not out of secrecy, but because she really valued privacy, poise, and cool. Katani’s older sister Candice, who was away at college, was a hard act to follow—perfect grades, perfect everything—and a star basketball player to boot. Next in the lineup came Patrice, 16, a sophomore this year at Brookline High—and good at every sport (and every activity) she tried. Not to mention popular, pretty, and always right. Patrice didn’t exactly keep her talents hidden, either! Conceited, conceited, conceited, was the way Katani would describe her. Not to mention a total bathroom hog. It wasn’t easy for Katani to have to explain to people that just because she was a Summers, and despite the fact that she was super tall, she wasn’t a star on the basketball court—another sore point with Katani. She couldn’t help the fact that she was tall and still growing. People were always commenting on her height. “Look how much you’ve grown!” Katani hated when people said this to her. Didn’t they realize that personal comments about a person’s body were way out of line?

  On the bright side, one of the things that had started Katani sewing in the first place was the fact that she couldn’t find blue jeans long enough to fit her. Now, a few extra inches of vintage fabric adorned every pair of her jeans. Katani’s friends all begged her to make them some just like hers, which gave Katani a secret feeling of pride. Still, her height continued to bug her—especially since it didn’t come with a single bit of athletic skill. It was so painful having to walk every single day past the junior high display case and see her sisters’ rows of trophies up there, winking down at her. Candice Summers—Basketball, All Star Soccer, Player of the year. Patrice Summers, Best All-Around Athlete, 3 years running. Blah blah blah! As if to make it even worse, there happened to be a little empty space next to Patrice’s trophy—as if to mock Katani. As if the trophies were all saying: Where’s yours? Katani didn’t even like sports except for golf which she and her dad had recently discovered, but her sisters thought it was geeky.

  Anyway, did it matter that she was a straight A student and a math whiz? Where were the trophies for that? When Candice got a scholarship to UMass, the whole world heard about it. When Patrice made Varsity on every team she tried out for, it always called for a family celebration. But as far as Katani could see, there was no varsity team for fashion design. And no trophies for being good at math and business, either. How unfair was that?

  Candice and Patrice were a tough double-act to follow. But they weren’t the hardest part for Katani. Katani’s sister Kelley, who was in ninth grade, was a much bigger challenge. Having autism could mean different things for different people. For Kelley, it meant that she needed a full-time aide, Ms. Mathers, to help her out in school. Kelley still liked to lug around her favorite stuffed animal, Mr. Bear, even though she was fourteen. She could remember amazing details, but sometimes she couldn’t even answer the simplest questions.

  Katani adored her sister, though it made her squirm inside when she felt embarrassed by her. Even though she was younger than Kelley by almost two years, Katani had to look out for her at school. It was her job to wait for Kelley after last period and walk her home. Katani had kind of dreaded that about starting junior high. For the past two years, Kelley had been over here at Abigail Adams, and Katani had been able to enjoy fifth and sixth grade without feeling responsible for her sister. It wasn’t that she didn’t love Kelley—she did! But she couldn’t help worrying about what it would mean for her when she started at Abigail Adams too. Her biggest fear was that someone would pick on Kelley, or make fun of her. She was so glad that Charlotte, Maeve, and Avery accepted her sister for who she was. It was one more reason that she’d do anything for her friends—absolutely anything.

  Even fix up Avery’s locker!

  But Avery had no interest in any makeovers of any kind. The word “makeover” grated on her like nails on a blackboard. She slammed her locker door shut. “Not on my life,” she muttered. “Don’t you dare redo any part of me, Katani. Not my locker.” She caught sight of Katani’s gaze, lighting on her pig-tailed hair. “And not the rest of me either!”

  She didn’t mean to say it quite as strongly as she did. But that was Avery for you. Always a few decibels louder than anyone else. And definitely not shy about her feelings!

  THINKING BACK

  Listening to her friends tease each other, Charlotte felt a wave of happiness wash over her. It was hard to believe she hadn’t known them forever. She could still remember how it had felt on Day One, walking down
Harvard Street, butterflies in her stomach, hoping—for once—that she could manage to pull off a first day at a new school without managing to totally embarrass herself. Now, looking back on it, it seemed funny. But it sure hadn’t felt funny then.

  “What are you smiling about?” Maeve demanded, linking arms as they started down the hall to Ms. Rodriguez’s homeroom. “I haven’t even told you my fabulous news yet!”

  “I was just remembering the first day of school,” Charlotte told her.

  Katani fell into step beside them. “Please,” she groaned. “I can’t even think about it.” She pretended to shudder and pulled her beautiful red knit sweater a little closer to her—and further away from Charlotte. Charlotte had to laugh. Ms. Rodriguez, the girls’ homeroom and English teacher, had stuck the four of them together in what she had optimistically referred to as a “lunch group.” She’d thought it would be a good icebreaker to assign kids to lunch tables, since the whole seventh grade was new to Abigail Adams. Only no one else was as new as Charlotte was. And nobody else had the Charlotte klutz-factor either, Charlotte thought ruefully. How was it humanly possible to zip a tablecloth into her jeans and pull it out from under four lunch trays? And how had it just happened that the disgustingly sticky French toast sticks she’d bought for lunch that day had to land, syrup and all, on top of Katani’s gorgeous Pucci-style top? Charlotte didn’t even know at the time that Katani was a designer extraordinaire and had spent all of August and lots of babysitting money on the silk shirt she was wearing that day. What a disaster!

  “That’s all behind us,” Maeve said chummily. “Remember—we’re the Beacon Street Girls now!”

  The Beacon Street Girls was the name the four girls—Charlotte, Maeve, Katani, and Avery—had inherited from their hideaway in the Tower room. They’d found the Tower by accident—or by magic, depending on how you looked at it. In a way, finding the Tower was Ms. Rodriguez’s doing, too. Because after their lunch group had turned out to be such a dismal failure, Katani had convinced Ms. Rodriguez to give the four girls this unusual assignment: Get together for a one-night sleepover, and if they still couldn’t get along, then they could go their separate ways.