Welcome to Tademy Academy: Part 2

LAST TIME: Our narrator, Frankie "Franks and Beans" Chapman (I am so waiting for someone to address her as "Franks and Beans") and her pals spent upwards of five hours picking out clothing for the first day of 7th grade, only to end up in Aeropostale jeans and Keds. WTF? Meanwhile, they were asked to pledge Tademy Academy's most exclusive "social society"—and unabashed drill team mafia—the Deltas. But in order to join the Deltas, the gals have to do "something spiteful, something forward, something embarrassing, and something scandalous"— and of course, something involving Axe body spray.

When we left off, Frankie had just Dropped the Donut onto the chair of one Ella Gris, leaving her with a Boston Creme backside. Still to come: Fliss must tip Tara Luna's tray in the cafeteria; Kenny will leave a forged love note in Charlotte Reyes' locker; Lyndz has to cut off Casey Wallace's ponytail; and Rosie (the orphaned Texan with the fake British accent) has to rig Raquel Weaver's locker with frogs that will chase her toward a magical banana peel that somehow triggers a bucket of chili to empty its contents onto her head. Like taking candy from a frigging baby!

Baby: Raquel Weaver; Dude with the giant lollipop: Rosie Fine

(Not pictured: Frogs, banana peel, bucket of chili)

As I said last time, our 14-year-old guest author, Kylie, claims she wrote this story when she was in fourth grade—but as Detective TKOG pointed out, Juno was released in 2007 and Bumpits weren't on the market until 2008. Kylie? You can come clean. We don't care if you wrote this last year. One thing we're not disputing is that this story is stellar. Also not in dispute: the fact that I would transfer out of Tademy Academy faster than you can say "bucket of chili."

Welcome to Tademy Academy

Ch. 2

After I DTDed, Fliss collected her ammo. Her weapons of choice: a plate of spaghetti, yogurt, and chocolate milk. She started her walk of shame towards Tara. I was so excited. Who’s dissing my Keds now?

Sada says: So this is the point at which I realized that Tademy's social societies aren't terrorizing unpopular kids—they're going after each other! They're basically warring factions of pretty people. It would be like if the cast of 90210 went to Bayside High, and Lisa Turtle made Brenda Walsh sit on a donut, and then Jessi Spano dumped a bucket of chili on Donna Martin's head. Actually, that sounds kind of awesome.

Fliss walked slowly, with all loose strands of her sunset brown hair tucked behind her ears. Soon, she was right in front of Tara, who had just put her own tray down. Fliss cringed from fear, tilted her tray, and food went flying all over Tara. There was spaghetti in her hair, yogurt all over one of her rich fashion designer shirts, and chocolate milk all over her Skechers.

Sada says: I love how Frankie name-checks Skechers but doesn't specify the "rich fashion designer" behind Tara's shirt.

“ Nice look, Tara,” Fliss said.

“AAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH,” Tara yelled. But no one heard her, because they were all pointing and whispering about her. Pointing, whispering, and giggling.

After that, we all went to our dorms.

“Okay, guys,” Kenny said. “How should I write the letter?” After putting our heads together, we wrote this and sprayed it with the Axe.

Kylie says: I am cringing as I read this. I mean, "Who’s dissing my Keds now?" And "ammo"? And "sunset brown hair"? What the hell? And Axe? Oh, what great humiliation!

Sada says: YOU TAKE THAT BACK ABOUT THE AXE! The repeated Axe bashing is one of my favorite things about this story. Or maybe one of my favorite things about anything, ever. Also, wait, are you saying that sunsets in Australia are not brown?

Dearest Darling Charlotte,

I have admired you from afar since the second grade. Maybe you won’t believe me, but I love you. If you say you don’t love me, it will break my heart. So please say yes. If you love me too, meet me by the fountain in the courtyard at your school at 3:00. Don’t worry about missing that assembly. It’s not even mandatory. I know about the assembly because I saw the flyer you designed. You’re the best artist ever! As soon as we meet, we can talk even more about this beautiful relationship in bloom.

XOXO,

Dominick Fitch

We were inspired by the love letter in the book, Bridge to Terabithia, we must admit.

Kylie says: As in, I was really lazy, so I stole half the letter from Bridge to Terabithia.

Sada says: But nice—and not at all creepy—addition about the non-mandatory school assembly. Romantic!

We shoved it into her locker the next day, while it still reeked off Axe. We woke the next morning at 7:00 am and got dressed. Then, we went into the hallway.

“Ew, what’s that smell?”

“I think it’s coming from Charlotte’s locker.”

Charlotte walked into the hall. “ Ew, what died in my locker?” She opened it up, and traced it to the Letter.

Sada says: In case you missed it, Axe body spray? Smells like death.

“Someone has a secret admirer,” said Piper Tademy.

“OOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHH.”

“Open the letter,” Kenny insisted sheepishly. She started shuffling her sneakers, and averted her eyes from Charlotte.

After Charlotte read the letter, she sighed and said, “Dominick Fitch.”

The day seemed to drag on and on until Assembly. Then, all eight girls who were in the hall came out to watch. It was 3:30, 4:00, and then the dreaded 4:30.

Sada says: Not the dreaded 4:30! Anything but that!

It had been a full hour, and Dominick hadn’t showed up yet.

Charlotte decided to text him.

From: Charlotte

To: Dominick

Dom, where are you? I’ve been waiting for an hour!!!!

From: Dominick

To: Charlotte

For what?

From: Charlotte

To: Dominick

Aren’t you meeting me to talk about our relationship?????? You wrote me that letter. You do want to meet at the fountain in the courtyard at Tademy Academy, right? Did you mean the fountain in the park? Or the one at Carlyle College?

Sada says: That is SO more than 160 characters. Plus, you could really get your fountains crossed in this town. Yeesh.

From: Dominick

To: Charlotte

I don’t now what you’re talking about. What letter?

From: Charlotte

To: Dominick

The love letter you left me in my locker. It smelled like Axe but that’s totally forgivable.

Sada says: Is it, though? IS IT?

From: Dominick

To: Charlotte

I never wrote you a letter. I don’t even know your last name.

I’m serious.

From: Charlotte

To: Dominick

Oh. I’m sorry I bothered you.

After that, something that never happens happened. Charlotte Reyes screamed, went up to Carter Gonzales-Fiore-Mason-Barnes, her rival, and punched her in the face. It was a very unCharlotte thing to do. Usually, Charlotte would burst into tears and run away. I guess that she finally had enough. At least she didn’t know it was Kenny, or else she would have had a serious nose bleed like Carter.

Kylie says: Carter Gonzales-Fiore-Mason-Barnes???? What the hell was I thinking????

Sada says: This is why two people with hyphenated names should never breed. Take heed, blog readers.

Ch.3

“I feel like a total…..a total…. Ugh, I can’t even say it,” Kenny said.

“Jerk?,” Fliss said.

“Me too.”

“ Ugggh,” I moaned. I didn’t know it would be this bad. Is being a Delta really worth it?

Just then, we heard a knock on our door.

“ I’ll get it,” Rosie shouted.

It was Carter. She had a giant welt on her nose. “ I was wondering if, like, any of you guys had one of those large nose bandages? I kinda need one? The nurse’s office is all out?”

The nurse's office RAN OUT of nose bandages??
Although I guess I can see why the girls at Tademy would be throwing lots of punches.

“What happened to Charlotte,” Kenny asked nervously.

“Like, nothing? Like, I would never tell on a fellow Tademian? I just said someone accidentally threw a volleyball at me? All I know is that I didn’t write that letter? I mean, I hate Charlotte, but not enough to stink up her locker with Axe? I mean, I don’t even own Axe, and….. OHMYGOD!? There is, like, Axe on your dresser? Kenny, it’s like all your fault?

No wonder you looked so, like, ashamed?”

Kylie says: Oh, Carter is a dumbass! At least she catches on fast.

Sada says: She might have a mile-long name and turn every sentence into a question, but Carter Gonzales-Fiore-Mason-Barnes is the only character in this story with ethics. She would never tell on a fellow Tademian, and she flat-out says that she wouldn't wish Axe body spray on her worst enemy.

I realized then that maybe we didn’t want to be Deltas after all. But that was a huge maybe. One part of me didn’t think it was worth it. Another part, the larger part wanted it so badly it would kill.

Sada says: NO. WAY. Did she just imply that it's a short road from Boston creme butt to MURDER? God, I hope Andy Tachman doesn't find out about this. (squeal!)

I didn’t know what to do. All I knew was to be afraid of Carter Gonzalez-Fiore-Mason-Barnes.

******************

“OMG. Kenny, this will really cheer you up,” I said at lunch.

“ It’s worth a shot,” Kenny sighed.

“ Guess what movie they’re showing at the Carlyle College Performing Arts Center.”

“ No way! EEEEKKK!!!!”

FRIDAY SEPTEMBER 16

7:00 PM

WISH UPON A STAR

Sada says: According to IMDB, this movie is a Freaky Friday ripoff about a brainy girl whose wish to trade places with her popular idiot of a sister comes true, and in the process everyone learns a little something about themselves and each other. (I'm paraphrasing.)

“Wait,” Lyndz said. “Today’s the day I pledge.”

We all groaned.

“Here comes Casey now,” Rosie said.

Casey Wallace had wanted to be a TAS since the fourth grade, which, in my opinion, is not a very long time. Then again, Casey Wallace is not a very commited person.

Sada says: You have to have wanted it since you were FIVE, people! Five or NOTHING!

She sat down in her seat and Lyndz whipped out the safety scissors. She leaned slowly, towards Casey, and snipped off the whole ponytail at once. Casey didn’t even feel a thing.

Kylie says: OMFG. And that’s where I left off. Damn.

Sada says: I second that damn! I thought we were going to put frogs in Raquel's locker! I mean, WHERE IS THE BUCKET OF CHILI THAT I WAS PROMISED? This is very upsetting. Though, to be honest, as I read over the plan, I was like, "Hmmm... how are they getting away with this crap? Is it possible that all of the teachers at Tademy Academy are vision-impaired?"

But I regret that we'll never know whether guilt got the best of the girls, or if their lust for drill team glory and the lure of a guaranteed date to every dance were too strong. And did the TASes just take this abuse, or did they strike back and give the Deltas a bucketful of their own chili?

Um... does anyone know a fourth grade ghostwriter we could hand this off to?

NEXT TIME: The first in a series of hilariously terrible illustrations that I'm going to call Every Picture Tells a Story. Sixth grade will be coming soon, but in the meantime maybe I can post more than twice a month? I think I can, I think I can...

Welcome to Tademy Academy: Part 1

Guest author Kylie wrote this doozy when she was in fourth grade, just a few short years ago. No, really, you guys. Kylie just turned 14. Fourteen! When I was 14, the Internet didn't even EXIST.* But if it had, I certainly wouldn't have invited some 32-year-old woman to make fun of me on it. So, hats off to you, Kylie! And as usual, when I say "hats," I mean Claudia Kishi–style fedoras with, like, cavemen and Day-Glo dinosaurs hot-glued on them. But you knew that.

[*Okay, whatever. Technically the Internet existed. But in 1991, I had as much knowledge of its existence as the dudes from Color Me Badd had of mine. In other words, none.]

Welcome to Tademy Academy, a not-so-cautionary tale of hazing among the middle school elite, Kylie expertly divides her plagiarism efforts between two sources: the Australian tween TV show The Sleepover Club (based on the British book series of the same name) and the American book series The Clique. Kylie took the characters from The Sleepover Club (who are, surprisingly, NOT named Lauren, Kate, Stephanie, and Patti—hi, Britstralians, I'm onto you) and inserted them into the basic plot of The Clique: rich-bitch private school girls spend equal amounts of time harassing their classmates and obsessing over clothing. And YES, that means there are enough outfit descriptions here to instantly qualify Kylie as a Baby-Sitters Club ghostwriter. (Congratulations, Kylie! Just make sure you hit your jumpsuit and slouch socks quotas in every book.) Then she tossed everything together and set it at a boarding school, because it is a well-known fact that sending your characters to boarding school can do nothing but improve your story (see also camp).

Welcome to Tademy Academy

Sada says: I guess if your last name is Tademy, you really have no choice but to open an academy.

We awoke right on time, as per usual. Well, Fliss and I did. 4:00 am sharp.

“ Fliss, do you think purple glitter eye shadow is too bold for the first day of seventh grade,” I asked.

“ Yeah,” Fliss replied.

“ Hey, what about that pink eye shadow you bought at Sephora,” she asked, picking it out from my Maybelline makeup bag.

“Maybe,” I said. “Put it in the preliminary bag.”

“ Hey, Frankie,” Fliss asked. “ Should straighten my hair, curl it, or just use Bump Its?”

“ Straighten it. Unless you bought a new curling iron that doesn’t frizz up your hair,” I replied.

“ To curl or not to curl, that is the question.”

“OMG, you should put that cute Marni sundress in the bag,” I told Fliss.

“ With black Hue leggings, OMG!,” Fliss squealed.

Sada says: That sound you hear? Is Shakespeare rolling over in his grave. But wait, do people say OMG out loud? Really?? Youth of today, please confirm or deny.

“ Shut up,” screamed my adoptive twelve year old sister, Juno. That’s not her real name, she just changed it after she saw the movie. It’s really Rosita. She used to live in Texas, before her parents died, and she was sent to an orphanage, but she pretends she’s from England and speaks with a fake British accent and uses British slang. It seems incredibly stupid to me, especially since everyone knows she faking it, but she says it’s loads of fun.

Kylie says: What kind of girls get up at 4:00 am to get dressed and made up???? I’m with Juno. God, I really shouldn’t have seen that movie at age 10.

Sada says: The kind of girls who have a preliminary bag filled with Bump-Its and name-brand leggings, that's who. As Juno would say, blimey!

At least that can be forgiven because she dresses well and we are good friends because we are the same age. And we go to the same boarding school. Juno doesn’t believe in shoes. I know it’s so sad, but I don’t care much what those nasty TASs have to say about Jew.

Sada says: She doesn't believe in SHOES? Like, at all? I thought maybe Juno was a hippie but the "dressing well" part threw me off. (And I dressed like a hippie for many years, so I'm totally entitled to make that joke.) I'm guessing she just doesn't believe in shoes whose cost is equivalent with a month's rent. So far? I think Juno is brill.

The TASs are the Tademy Academy Socialites. It’s one of the TA social societies. It not even the most exclusive one, which is the one I’m going to be in. It’s called the Deltas. Let me explain social societies at Tademy Academy. You can’t join a soc until seventh grade for one thing. They help you meet boys from the boys’ school, Carlyle College, grades 7-12 and have radical parties.

Kiley says: Carlyle College? Was it ever a real college????

Sada says: Dude. I'm still trying to wrap my brain around the fact that Tademy has multiple groups whose main purpose is to exclude others. How many popular girls can one school have? So far the only thing I'm relating to here is the word "radical"—though not in terms of parties. Most of my 7th grade parties involved eating fistfuls of green M&Ms, listening to Bell Biv Devoe, and avoiding playing Spin the Bottle for fear I'd end up kissing someone gross (or, in early '90s parlance, a "total dog").

Even better, they guarantee you a spot on the drill squad. I’ve wanted to be on the drill squad since I was five years old. I think this could be the greatest thing that could ever happen to me. I mean, I could be partying with Ashlee, Maree, Courtnee, Britnee, Lacey, Tracey, Stacey, Macey, and the best of the best in the Deltas, Andy Tachman, Candy Campbell, Mandy Griffin, Sandy Flynn, and Randy Lewis. Yay! Plus you’re guaranteed a date to all school dances and functions.

Kylie says: What’s with the matchy-matchy names of the Deltas?

Sada says: Seriously. Rosie's going to need to drop the "Juno" if she wants to stand a chance here.

I quickly e- mailed Jayne Jonstone and Lottie Love, our camp friends, to give them the scoop.

Hey Jayne and Lottie,

What’s up? Guess whose going to be a Delta? Me, Francesca Frankie Frank Frankfurter Franks and Beans Chapman, assisted by Felicity Flissie Fliss Dillon, Kendra Ken Kenny Lindsay, Lindsay Lin Lyndz Sandburg, and Rosita Rose Rosie Fine, aka Juno Jew Fine. I can’t wait for seventh grade. It’s much easier to e-mail you now that you live in New England, and it’s already 1:00 pm there, so you’re surely awake. Over here it’s 9:00 am and Fliss and I just started the preliminary fashion round. Tademy Academy, here we come!

Sada says: It's already 9:00 a.m.? Time flies when you're filling up the preliminary bag! Sadly, NO, they don't attend boarding school in Alaska. They're in California; fourth graders in Australia just aren't super familiar with U.S. time zones.

Love,

Frankie Chapman & Fliss Dillon

Aka Mrs. Francesca Efron and Mrs. Felicity Sanborn.

Sada says: Oh, look, they're planning to marry the stars of High School Musical** much the way my friends and I were going to divvy up and wed the members of New Kids on the Block. That's cute.

[**Yeah, had no idea who that Sanborn character was. I'm not a pervy old lady, I'm just handy with the Google.]

P.S. I’m hosting SIGMA!!!!!!! - Fliss

P.P.S But I’m still hosting all the boy-girl parties, right?- Frankie

P.P.P.S I call shotgun in Ryne Sanborn’s convertible in twelve years. - Fliss

P.P.P.P.S You are insane about that guy.- Frankie

P.P.P.P.P.S I can’t help it.- Fliss

Sada says: Calling shotgun 12 years in advance? Hilarious. But probably ill-advised. I shudder to think of all the repossessed vehicles I might have ended up in.

P.P.P.P.P.P.S We’re signing off for real. - Frankie

P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S- I’m Juno no more and I’m finally awake.- Rosie

Just then, the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it,” Rosie yelled, giggling at this ridiculous outfit Fliss joked about dressing me in.

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE,” Rosie squealed.

“ Guys, check this out,” she yelled.

“ OMG,” Fliss said.

Dear Francesca Chapman, and Rosita Fine,

You two have been chosen to pledge for the Deltas. This will involve many risks. You will be asked to do something spiteful, something forward, something embarrassing, and something scandalous. What these things are will not be revealed in this letter. But the other pledges are to be revealed .

Felicity Dillon

Kendra Lindsay

Lindsay Sandburg

Kirsten Johnston

Sarah Jo Hansen

Holly Malloy

Mallory Lazarus

Emma-Jean Greene

Piper Tademy

Sarah-Charlotte Hopkins

Gillian Tompkins

Melissa Perkins

And remember, only five gals will make it.

Sada says: Dear Girls Whose Names Cannot Accommodate a Nickname Ending in a Y or double E: You are screwed. xoxo, Andy

Sealed with a Kiss,

(squeal) Andrea Tachman

ANDY TACHMAN WROTE US A LETTER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I worship the ground she walks on!

My cell phone rang. “Hello?”

“Frankie, is that you?’’

“Kenny, what’s up?”

“I just got the best news….”

“You’re about to be a Delta, right?”

“And so are you!”

“I know, isn’t it amazing?”

“I can’t believe it!!!”

“Frankie,” Fliss shouted.

“I’ve got to go, bye.”

“So, Frankie, what shirt do you chose to go to the Top 5,” Rosie asked.

“Oh, my American Eagle polo shirt with my Aeropostale jeans.”

“OK.”

Kylie says: OK, there is way too much screaming here.

Sada says: BUT ANDY TACHMAN WROTE THEM A LETTER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OMG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (squeal)

After that, the time flew by, and I was wearing that outfit with hi-top felt-pen attacked Keds and diamond studs from Claire’s.

Sada says: Diamonds at Claire's? Shyeah right! I can't be THAT old.

Fliss had borrowed my Hue leggings and had thrown on a white Delia’s dress with pink Converse All-Stars. Finally, Rosie was wearing a cute pink Abercrombie tank top and a Hollister denim skirt, with black Chuck Taylors. We walked into Tademy Academy with confidence, where we ran into a TAS, Tara Luna.

“Nice Keds,” the eighth-grader said. “Not.”

I tossed my blond hair in her face and walked right on by.

Sada says: Wikipedia has taught me that The Clique reviles Keds. Which totally makes sense seeing as white Keds were my exclusive sneaker of choice during middle school (preferably sans laces) and I think it's fair to say that I would never, ever, never have been tapped to join the Pretty Committee.

Whatevs. If they're good enough for Kelly Kapowski, they're good enough for me.

“Hey, Frankie,” Maree Pillsbury yelled out. “Rosie, Fliss.”

“Hey,” we all yelled and walked over to her.

“ Okay, you guys,” she said. “Tonight and tomorrow, you make your first set of pledges. Frankie, you’ll get Ella Gris by putting a donut on her seat in the cafeteria. Fliss, you’re to tip Tara Luna’s tray in the cafeteria in front of everyone. Kenny, you’re going to leave a fake love letter for Charlotte Reyes in her locker. Sign in with her crush, Dominick Fitch’s name. Make it very romantic. Spray it with Axe. It should tell her to meet him at the fountain in the courtyard. When no one shows up she’ll be humiliated and her locker will stink. Lyndz, you’ll cut off Casey Wallace’s ponytail. And finally, Rosie. You will put frogs in Raquel Weaver’s locker. Leave a banana peel on the ground and get a bucket of chili. The frogs will jump out at Raquel, and chase her down the hall. She’ll slip on the banana peel, slide down the hall, and trigger the bucket of chili to fall down on her. Got it? Because it’s the game plan.”

Maree always talks like that, because she’s on the world’s premiere girls’ football team.

Sada says: WOW. The Deltas might be lax on the Keds wearing, but DAMN, they are some evil bizznatches! Inflicting donut butt? Cutting off ponytails—and presumably NOT donating them to Locks of Love? And utilizing the Devil's own body spray (aka Axe)? Noooooooo! But the mind-blowingly elaborate Frogs in Raquel's Locker Chase Her Toward a Banana Peel That Triggers a Bucket of Chili to Fall on Her Head plan is my favorite. For obvious reasons.

“Got it,” we all said.

At dinner, it was proven that we didn’t get it. I bought a slice of pizza, a apple, and the Chocolate Covered Donut. “Are you guys sure I should do this?,” I asked.

“Totally,” Kenny said. “You still want to be in the Deltas, right?”

“Right,” I said, not so sure that I did.

“ The coast is clear,” Fliss said. “ Drop the bomb.”

“Okay,” I said hesitantly. Just then, I got a text.

From: Kenny [Sada says: Yes, it appears this text is from her friend who is standing next to her. Technology is awesome!]

To: Frankie

Frankie Chapman never hesitates when it comes 2 the Deltas. DTD=

Drop The Donut!!!!!!!!

And I did. I placed the donut right on Ella Gris’s seat. Two minuets later, a splat rang throughout the cafeteria.

Sada says: Can we all stop for a second and savor the poetry of "a splat rang throughout the cafeteria"? (Alternatively, you can take this time to ponder how a splat can ring.)

Ella sprang right up out of her chair. She looked at the back of her pants. Her seat was covered in chocolate frosting and Boston cream was dripping down her legs. She screamed and everyone laughed.

“ See ya, Boston,” an eighth grader yelled as she ran out of the cafeteria, humiliated.

Kylie says: God, Frankie seems like a real bitch.

Sada says: I am so glad I didn't go to Tademy Academy. In my middle school, we at least had the decency to insult people anonymously in a slam book! We never made them sit on breakfast pastries!

My phone began to vibrate.

From: Maree

To: Frankie

The Boston cream was a nice touch. That was a total accidental donut I threw in the basket. It must have been fate that you grabbed it, right?

Sada says: What basket? I thought Frankie bought the donut in the cafeteria. My God, just how much pull do these Deltas have??

From: Frankie

To: Courtnee

Total fate! Awesome, right?

Kylie says: I was right!

Sada says: There's nothing she wouldn't do for the drill squad. NOTHING!

NEXT TIME: Our (by which I mean Kylie's) story continues with with liberal spritzes of Axe body spray. In case you were wondering what that smell was.

Kimberly and Adrianne, part two

LAST TIME: Kimberly and Adrianne started the first day of the fifth grade with the world's most pointless friendship pact; I introduced a thousand and one extraneous characters; and the girls went to math class. Really. That's all that happened.

Chapter Two: I hate school

Lunch was great. Oh, math was OK. Mr. Matthews was so nervous. He kept glancing at the clock and saying "um" and "ah" too much. We have Lokkins for Science, Social Studies, and Health. Back to lunch.

We have the whole table to ourselves. "We" is me, Adria, Jackie Mendol, Rain, Lorraine, Nori, Barry, Danni, Silvie, Heather Dobbins, Michelle, Ivy, and Carole.

That must be one huge table.

Well, Adria and I met at the flying saucer for recess. We talked teachers. She has Ms. Dunn.

"Ms. Dunn thinks she owns the world." explained Adria. "It's so dull, you know?"

Adria has the apathy of at least a seventh grader! Also, "owning the world" is hilarious.

"Yeah." I answered.
"I hate school. I always have and I always will." said Adria.
"Always." I agreed.

Then recess was over.
"Hey," whispered Barry. "Let's start a food fight."

Wait, they had lunch, then recess, then lunch again? What are they, hobbits?

"Oh, grow up." said Heather.
"How will it make us look?" asked Michelle.
"Real good." said Danni.
"Like scum." answered Heather.
"Which is what we are." agreed Barry. "So come on."

Dude! Barry thinks they're scum! And wants to prove it with a food fight! I might love her.

"Well, Barry," said Nori. "I'm not so sure."
"Oh, live a little." urged Jackie.
"Do I look like I'm dead?" questioned Carole.
"Wellll..." began Jackie.

Jackie is kinda cruising for a bruising, eh?

"Oh, let's vote." interrupted Adria.
"I agree." agreed Rain. Adria's eyes were shining.
"I just had an idea." squealed Adria.
"What?" I wanted to know.

Yes, ol' Light Bulb Eyes is at it again. Hopefully she can come up with something better than "let's promise to be friends forever."

"Well...who here hates school?" she asked.
"MEEEE." shouted all 13 of us.

"Well, here's what we could do." Adria whispered. "Bring some food you don't like in your lunch. Then, well, I guess you could bring it later. Then, we can meet later back here and smear it on the building so it says, 'I hate school'."

WATERED-DOWN PLAGIARISM ALERT! In the book Sixth Grade Can Really Kill You, Barthe DeClements' character "Bad Helen" spray-paints SCHOOL MAK ME PUK on her school. (Um, Helen has a learning disability, so don't make fun. Read all about it here. Or here.) But because I was way too much of a goody-goody to let my characters do anything actually bad, instead of spray paint Adria suggests they use, like, rotten bananas and pb & j with the crust still on as the tools of their "vandalism." (Because crust? GRODY!) What will queen bee Eleanor "Call Me Nori" Jefferson think of such a half-assed scheme?

"Adrianne Tyler, you are a GENIUS." shouted Nori. Adria's eyes were shining bright as ever as we decided what to do.

"When are we doing this, today or tomorrow?" asked Carole.
"Today." said Lorraine.
"I have piano today." Silvie announced.
"Tomorrow it is." said Ivy.

Well, Language Arts was OK. We have Miss Kudje. Adria was in my class. So were the rest of the girls from lunch. I like the afternoons, but Miss Kudje is bossy. YECH.

The boys were bugging us to death. Especially David and Ryan. David gave Rain this note:


We all had to admit it was pretty funny. It looked just like Angie. It really did.

I had serious doubts that Angie could really resemble that drawing. And then I found this:

Apparently poor Angie has a rat's nest of a hairdo and suffers from some sort of birth defect that left her with giant, three-toed webbed feet. Everyone, please contribute to the March of Dimes so we can end the blight of duck foot-ism once and for all!

Then Ryan started in. He was sitting behind me and he started to pull my hair. I slapped his hands, but really I liked it. Nori said he likes me. I hope so. Ryan's cute.

Oh, fifth grade flirting.

Rich started to bug Ivy. He kicked her chair and she kicked [him] where it counts. I think Rich liked it, though. BARF*O*RAMA.

Nothing a 10-year-old boy likes more than a foot in the nuts, surely.

Well, Thursday was a lot like Wednesday except we had homework. Lunch was great. We all had great things for our 'I hate school' job. We agreed to meet at 7:30. It was late [7:30 = late!], after dinner, and not real dark. Perfect.

Because I'm sure no one will notice 13 girls smearing a bunch of food on the school at dusk. Nope, that won't draw attention AT ALL.

It was 7:15. "Mom," I said. "I'm going to the playground. I'll be back by 8:00. Bye."

"Just one minute, young lady. Hold it right there." said mom. "What do you think you're doing? I'm not running a circus here, you know. Why are you going to the playground at this hour? What are you planning to do, miss?"

"I'm going to a meeting for a secret club." I lied. "Are you happy you forced it out of me?"

"Be back by 8:00 or I'm coming to get you." mom shouted as I left.

Oh my God, you guys, WHAT IS THIS? Parents who are involved in their children's lives?! Does this mean that if Kim decided to stay all weekend in an underground treehouse, someone would actually notice she was gone? Let's hope this isn't a trend. This could be disastrous for all of us!

I wasn't the last to arrive. Heather was. We had almost started without her.
"Is everyone ready?" asked Nori.
"YES."
"Then let's go for it." shouted Barry.

And go for it we did. It took a while. We had to decide who did which parts. Not everything stuck at first. It was nearly 8 when we finished, but it was worth it. My arms were sore, my hands were slimy, and my eyes were tired, but it was worth it.

I really wish there were more details on the food, but all we get is "slimy." Maybe someone brought okra? Jell-o? Oysters? I'll bet Nori brought seaweed!

On the side of the building, in putrid shades read:

"I HATE SCHOOL"

Just imagine it slimier.

Chapter Three: T.G.I.F. (Thank God It's Friday)

On Friday, everyone was talking about our 'I hate school' job. Of course, we couldn't confess because some geek could rat on us.

"Some geek could rat on us?" It's like they're already in a juvenile detention center. And they've barely committed a crime!

At lunch, we couldn't really talk about it. This is a part of our conversation:

Yes, they have an entire conversation where they pretend like they don't know who was behind the expression of school hatred, for the sake of... I'm not quite sure who.

"So," began Lorraine. "Who do you think did that 'I hate school' thing?"
"Well, I bet you it was a boy." said Rain.

Way to throw the bloodhounds off the scent, Rain!

"Probably." agreed Nori.
"Well, I thought it was cool." said Barry.
"Yeah." said Jackie and Danni.
"They'll probably catch whoever did it." Heather said.
"Probably not." I said.
"Yeah." agreed Adria. "No one looked guilty."
"I agree with you two." said Ivy.
"Heather does have a point, though." admitted Carole.
"Here we go again." muttered Kristen.
"I wonder what they used." said Michelle.

Me too, Michelle. ME TOO.

All this time Silvie said nothing. She just looked like she was going to burst.

Silvie is totally the weak link. Hope you don't get shivved on the way to your next piano lesson, Silvs.

When we got to Language Arts, we saw that Miss Kudje had been using the board. In huge letters across the board it read, "T.G.I.F."

"Thank god it's Friday." whispered Barry. Of course, we all knew it was Thank Goodness It's Friday.

Bwa ha. How cute.

Miss Kudje looked like she really meant it.

"So, Kim," Ryan said, yanking my hair to get my attention. I dry humped hit him. "What did you think of that 'I hate school' thing on the building?

What was I supposed to say? I thought it was cool, of course, but what if he didn't.

Rubbing nasty scraps of old food on a building? Who wouldn't think that's cool?

"It was cool." I finally said. "What did you think of it."
"I think it's cool, too." answered Ryan.

"Everyone, FREEZE." shouted Miss Kudje. "NOW COME QUIETLY TO THE FRONT OF THE ROOM." Look who's talking, I mean screaming. "We have to have a talk. Honestly, how many of you hate school here?"

Whoa, Miss Kudje, laying it on the line! Time for a good "rap session" with the youngsters.

Everyone except about 5 people raised their hands. "OK, hands down. We need to have a discussion about our little 'I hate school' thing out there. We took a close look and saw that it was made of food so there's no damage done really. It will wash away when it rains. Still, it doesn't make our school look very good. What if there were visitors or something coming or..." Miss Kudje blew her nose.

Wait, wait, wait! They've ascertained that the "graffiti" is actually foodstuffs (I wonder if they brought in a forensics expert...?), but they're going to leave "I HATE SCHOOL" up there until it happens to rain? What about utilizing, I don't know, a HOSE? A few buckets of water? I'm just brainstorming here. But back to Miss Kudje and her runny nose...

"Miss Kudje, why are you crying?" asked Rain.
"You see, Noraina,"
"Rain." said Rain.

The woman is in tears, but Rain still takes a moment to insist on being addressed by nickname.

"Rain," said Miss Kudje. "It reminds me of when I was in 5th grade. Me, my friends, Sarah and Maria, my boyfriend, Tim, and his friend Jon, we did almost the same thing."

This is where it starts to get a little inappropriate.

"YOU HAD A BOYFRIEND?" screamed Heather.
"Yes, Heather, I had a boyfriend." said Miss Kudje.

What grown woman seriously refers to someone she "dated" in fifth grade as her boyfriend? Miss Kudje is majorly creeping me out.

"Was he cute?" asked Ivy.
"Yes, Ivy, he was cute."

Uh, BARF*O*RAMA.

"Gee." said Angie Duck Feet McCall.

"Can I finish the story now?" asked Miss Kudje. "Thank you. Except we spray painted. On the black top playground. There it was right there in big huge letters on our school playground, 'I HATE SCHOOL'." Miss Kudje reached for a tissue.

Yes, this totally sounds like a person who would grow up to become a fifth grade teacher. Right?

"Is that all? That's the end?" asked Ryan.
"No," said Miss Kudje. "We got caught."
"What happened to you?" asked Barry.
"We got in trouble." answered Miss Kudje.
"DUH." said Rich.
"Oh, shut up, Rich." said Kristen.

"We were suspended for a week. Our parents made us pay them since they would have to pay extra taxes. Except then they just gave the school the right a mount. It was awful." said Miss Kudje. "All right, back to your seats, I have some fun sheets. No home work on Friday."

In Sixth Grade Can Really Kill You, Helen finds out that it will cost $6 in paint to cover up the SCHOOL MAK ME PUK graffiti. Apparently I didn't realize that $6 does not a heavy tax burden make.

Also, I like how Miss Kudje goes directly from the tear-laced tale of woe into Friday fun sheets. She so made up that story to get a confession.

I felt really guilty and I knew what we would have to do.

"Let's confess." I said. We were standing outside afterschool.
"No way." said Barry.
"I agree." said Heather.
"Only to Miss Kudje." said Nori. "She'll understand."

"So I see." said Miss Kudje. "Well, it was very clever, Adria. Much better than a food fight. You do know that it was wrong."

"Yes." we answered.

Miss Kudje burst out laughing. "Go home. Don't worry, I won't tell a soul." She got her things and left.

Miss Kudje is definitely getting fired before the school year is out.

"I really like Miss Kudje." said Adria.
"Yeah." agreed Ivy.
"Do you guys have an umbrella?" asked Nori. "It's going to rain."
"No." we all answered.

"Great." said Nori. Just then there was a huge clap of thunder and lightning filled the sky. We were soaked in a second. IT WAS POURING.

Good thing, since the janitor is too lazy to soap up a frigging mop and wipe that crap off the building.

"Thank god it's Friday." muttered Carole.
"Thank god I'm getting my hair done tomorrow." said Heather.
"There goes 'I hate school'." said Adria.
"THANK GOD." I said.

Um, Heather's getting her hair done? Is she 60?

Soon we all got home, soaking messes.

"Thank god it's Friday." I said to mom.



Chapter Four: You can only take so many practical jokes

"You're soaked." exclaimed mom. She ran to get a towel. "Go dry off." I went into the bathroom. "It wasn't Roger, was it?" mom called through the door.

I came out. "No, but what do you mean?"

"MOM." yelled Tiger. Tiger's real name is Philip, but he's only 3 so we call him Tiger.

Excuse me, but whaaa? That's scoring a zero in the sense-making department.

I threw on my sweat pants and a T-shirt and rushed down the stairs after mom. She had to answer some questions for me. What was Roger doing that could get me soaked. I had to know.

"ROGER ELSON, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" screamed mom. Roger is 15 but he looked younger all hunched up against the counter. Small. "I asked you to fix your brother a snack."

Roger snickered. "I did." he said.

"Yeah, you really look like Mr. Innocent." I told him. He crossed his [eyes, I'm assuming, though it doesn't specify what]. I stuck out my tongue.

"Stay out of this Kimberly." warned mom. I sat down at the table. "There has been entirely too much practical joking going on, young man. I want an explanation and I want it now."

"I gave him milk and an ice cream sundae." said Roger.

"AND." said mom.

"And I put the milk in a dribble glass. That's why there's milk on his shirt. And I made the sundae out of, well, the ice cream scoops were raquet balls and the whipped cream was shaving cream."

KILL HIM MOM, I thought.

And that's where the story ends. It was just not going to get any better than a racquet ball sundae topped with shaving cream!

NEXT TIME: Another ludicrous scheme involving fake midgets, the long-awaited Def Leppard haiku, and much, much more when we meet the rest of Adria's wacky family.

Kimberly and Adrianne, part one

After looking over a few of the stories in the Friendship series, I'm realizing that more often than not I applied the "Friendship" label after the fact. Don't get me wrong: The 100 (and then some) characters are here in all their Anglican-named glory. But I think my ingenious idea to name the school—and the town—Friendship happened kind of late in the game. Many of the books (this one, for instance) don't even bother to specify a setting, but others take place in cities in western New York that I had actually visited that summer. However, for the sake of everyone's sanity, I will continue to refer to both the school and the town as Friendship.

One of the first entries in the Friendship canon is Kimberly and Adrianne, which manages to get pretty frickin' emo for the fifth grade.

KIMBERLY and ADRIANNE
Chapter One: Friends Forever

"Let's make a pact." said Adria. Her real name is Adrianne. She's my best friend. We were standing outside the school, the bell would ring any second and 5th grade would begin. I should have been happy, but I wasn't. Adria had been separated from me for the first time ever. I glanced at my watch. 5 more minutes.

At my elementary school—and so, of course, at Friendship Elementary—you had subjects like science, social studies, gym, art, and health with your homeroom class, but you switched classes for math and language arts. Therefore, even if you and your be fri were in different homerooms, you still had a pretty good shot at being in class together at some point. It was not quite the death sentence Kim makes it out to be.

"What kind of pact?" I asked.

"A friendship pact." answered Adria. Her eyes were shining, so I knew she had a great idea.

You know how the cartoon representation of a bright idea is a light bulb illuminating? Apparently Adria has a couple of those light bulbs in her eye sockets.

"A friendship pact about what?" I asked.

"Sort of a promise that-"

"Duh." I interrupted.

What an ass. This is probably why they need a pact in the first place.

"A promise that," continued Adria, ignoring me. "If we fight, we'll apologize right away." she suggested.

"And that we'll always be friends forever." I added.

"Right," said Adria, her eyes shining. "Friends forever." We both smiled because we new it was a great, long-lasting pact.

Yes, well, it doesn't get much more long-lasting than forever.

I was just about to tell Adria where we should meet for recess, when the bell rang.

"The flying saucer." I told her.

"Right." said Adria, but her eyes stopped shining as we went in. Who new what 5th grade held.

I'll tell you what it holds: introductions to about a googolplex more characters than we need in this story. Hope you're ready for a whirlwind tour of Friendship students!

I followed Mrs. Lokkins into the classroom. She said we could sit wherever we wanted. Who would I sit next to? There was no Adria to sit with.

"KIM." someone called. "Oh, Kimberly."

I turned around. It was Rain. Her real name is Noraina. I smiled. She was sitting with Barbara Manitelli and Lorraine Tailore. I like them. Barb's funny. [You might even say she can't be serious!] I sat down on the end, next to Barbara.

"So what do you think of Lokkins?" whispered Lorraine.

"She's OK so far." said Barbara.

I think Mrs. Lokkins has been their teacher for about 30 seconds at this point.

"HEY, ELEANOR." shouted Rain. "OVER HERE."

Eleanor Jefferson is so popular. "Hi, Eleanor." I said.

Eleanor Jefferson: Popular fifth grader or wife of a founding father? You tell me.

"Hi, Kim. Call me Nora or Ellie though, please." said Nora/Ellie. "Hey look there's Angie McCall." Nora/Ellie said, sitting down next to Lorraine.

"Ewww. Old Duck Feet herself." said Rain

"Quack. Quack." quacked Barbara.

Quacking, that's always classy. What exactly is the deal with the duck feet? Is Angie the opposite of pigeon-toed? (And does that have a name?) I was totally pigeon-toed as a child—I had to wear a brace on my feet and everything—so I should not be making light of such afflictions.

"SILVIE EVANS." yelled Lorraine. "WE SAVED YOU A SEAT."

Silvie Evans is cute and nice. She has the prettiest hair. She sat down next to Nora/Ellie. By that time we had taken up the whole row except for one seat next to Silvie.

"DANNI SIMONSON, COME ON DOWN." called Silvie. Her real name is Priscilla.

"Hello all." said Danni. Her name is Danielle. She sat down on the end next to Silvie. We had the whole row to ourselves.

"OK. I have a name." Nora/Ellie said decidedly. "Call me Nori."

She's now gone from First Lady to sushi wrapper.

"You know," said Rain. "You and my mom should have a talk about what to name the baby." We all laughed. Noraina has 5 other sisters named Coral, Lanira, Korina, Bonita, and Ranella. Also, her mom was pregnant again.

Well, Lokkins did attendance. Then she told us what math class we were in. Rain, Nori, and Silvie were in mine. Lorraine and Barbara were together. We headed for Mr. Matthews room.

"Bye, Lorraine." I said. "Bye, Barbara."

"Call me Barry." Barbara said.

"Bye, Barry." called Nori.

Egad, the nicknames! It's like a Russian novel! Only... not.

So I have illustrations of some of these characters that were meant to accompany another story, but as Kimberly and Adrianne is about as exciting as Silent Lunch so far, I'm going to throw them in here. These illustrations are courtesy of neither Kimberly nor Adrianne, but instead:



Actually, I'll be straight with you: Noraina's story doesn't even make it past page two. For some reason, many of my most beloved characters were also the most boring. I would spend tons of time drawing them, their families, their friends; perfecting their handwriting; writing poetry as if I were them... and then eke out only a handful of paragraphs before I tired of their lameass plotlines. I believe Noraina's barely-begun book was going to focus on the arrival of Baby #7. (And, I'm sure, introduce another under-the-influence baby name.)

But at least Noraina (I'm sorry, Rain) managed to provide us with pictorial representations of many of the characters in this story—albeit not the protagonists. Kim and Adria must have had a falling out with the popular girls at some point, because my records show they were demoted to hanging out with Ivy Swanson, Cathy Johnson, and Nina Castor. I wonder if Eleanor and crew ever made animal sounds at them.

First we have Noraina, looking a bit bashful:


It's like someone just told her how much sex her parents have! After she had taken a time machine back to 1964. But don't worry, she didn't always look so glum. Here she is, cheerfully representing the late '80s. Leggings and jelly bracelets? Done and doner.


Next we have Miss Popularity herself, Eleanor Jefferson. Seriously, she has four personality traits listed, and popular is one of them. She's also pretty, smart, and nice. And wearing a Mr. Rogers cardigan:


And if you think her abundant coif could be the result of haphazard scribbling on my part, think again! Also, check out her bobby socks. I was seriously into bobby socks, preferably those with lacy trim.


Silvie Evans is also pretty and nice, but instead of popular or smart, she is SMALL. Really! She is literally half the size of Eleanor Jefferson! Note her distraught expression, her awkwardly outstretched arms, and the seizure-inducing print on her dress.


Lorraine Tailore is cute, nice, smart, and a little too into hearts. I'm not sure if the weight of her XXL sweatshirt has thrown off her center of gravity, but she seems to be struggling to regain balance. Or maybe she's drunk. Everyone seems suspiciously flushed, don't they?


And of course there's Barbara Manitelli, who is nice, funny, AVERAGE (translation: not so much attractive), and a QUEERO. I think queero is supposed to mean she's kind of weird, but feel free to chime in if you also suspect Barry may be transgendered. Apparently our girl's into suspenders and snakes. SNAKES! Could she have picked a more phallic animal? I rest my case.

And Danni Simonson must be the least popular of the popular girls, because she's nowhere to be seen. Probably because she's Jewish. I mean, I'm half Jewish myself, but since I seem to be snubbing all sorts of ethnicities in this series, I wouldn't put it past me.

After I scanned the drawings, I noticed this on the opposite side of one of the papers:


Yes, Sada + Sig. Because if I wrote it enough times, it might actually happen! But enough about my love life. Where were we? Oh, that's right, on our way to math class.

The first thing I saw when I walked into Mr. Matthews was Rhoda Delacore. She is huge. She really is. "Hi, Kimmy." said Rhoda. I ignored her. This summer she thought we were best friends. Can you believe it? BARF*O*RAMA.

Remember how in Gossip Central I took baby steps forward in my treatment of overweight characters? I've now taken a giant leap back. Do you guys think Kim and Rhoda hung out over the summer and now Kim is trying to ignore her all Breakfast Club–style? I love how Rhoda calls Kim "Kimmy." I like to think she's taunting her.

Adria saw me before I saw her, but I couldn't sit with her. She waved and I waved back. It still didn't change anything. She was sitting with Ivy Swanson, Carole Bakerwitz, Kristin Seals, and Michelle Brewer.

"Kim. It's time for math. Back to Earth. Are you home, Kim, are you home?" It was Danni.

"Hi, Danni." I said sadly.

"Hi nothing. Mr. Matthews looks like he wants to murder you. You'd better find a seat so come sit with us." They were sitting in the row behind Adria.

"Friends?" Adria whispered uncertainly.

"Forever." I whispered back. I knew we always would be.

Well, now that we've introduced all 40 jillion tertiary characters, maybe something can actually HAPPEN in this story.

NEXT TIME: I plagiarize the bejehu out of Barthe DeClements as the girls engage in some candy-assed vandalism.

We Can Live Without Boys... Can't We?, part 2

LAST TIME: Maggie and her BFF, Sherry, decided to give up boys... because their friend Marsha got asked on a date and they didn't. I'm still not sure about that logic. The twosome then talked a load of crap behind Marsha's back, giggled evilly because she didn't know that her crush was moving, and avoided her the entire week before her date. Marsha totally called them on their jealousy, and they tried to turn it around like, "NO, you're a SHOW-OFF!" (Ooooooh!) I, for one, wasn't buying it.

Sherry and I didn't talk to Marsha anymore. Our lives seemed a lot better. When I told Sherry that she started laughing uncontrollably. Then she told me I was such a tease. Why do people think I'm a tease?

In science our teacher handed back our scores on dissecting worms. I got an F. I hope this doesn't go on our record. I slipped Sherry a note. It said: WHAT DID YOU GET? She answered: A. HOW ABOUT YOU? I answered: F. BUT YOU WEREN'T HERE. She answered: HOW DO YOU THINK I GOT AN A. I stifled a giggle. Sherry made a face.

Does that make sense to anyone? No? Moving on then...

Sherry and I were down at Study Hall [in fourth grade???] when Timmy walked up to me and put his hand on my shoulder. My heart was pounding. I swiveled around in my seat. "Yeah." I said.
"Well," said Timmy "Drake and I were sorry we couldn't show up last week for the movie last week."
I stifled a giggle. "Uh-huh." I said.
"Well," he said. "We were wondering if you'd like to go to a movie on Fri."
"Fri.?" I asked.
"Friday." he answered.

I love this imaginary world where 10-year-old boys ask you out on dates. And use awkward day-of-the-week slang.

"Wel-"
Sherry cut me off. "We're much too busy." she said.
"OK" said Timmy. He shrugged his shoulders as he left. Boy, I thought, he sure is cute. Sherry's voice brought me back to the real world.
"Sorry," she said. "I thought we'd given up boys."
"We have." I lied. "I was gonna dog him out."
"Well, you had that starry look in your eyes."
"Don't you trust me?"
"Yeah. Let's just forget about it."
"OK" And we went to McDonald's.

Did they just cut class? In FOURTH GRADE?

"Class," said Mrs. Melnick. "We have 2 new students. Samantha Trainline." Samantha was beautiful. Her long blonde hair reached almost to her waist. Her big green eyes shone with pure delight. She was tall and slim. "Call me Sam." she said. I liked her.

"Laurie Terd." The class went WILD. James snorted, Daphne honked, Robby fell out of his chair, and Tiffanie got the hiccups. The only ones who weren't laughing were Laurie, Mrs. Melnick, and Jon. I hope he likes her now instead.

Mrs. Melnick went through a lot of garbage over Laurie's name. Laurie looked as if she were on the verge of tears. Serves the fat hog right, I thought.

Wait just a goddamn minute. She deserves to be ridiculed to the point of tears—on her first day at a new school, no less—because she's chubby and has the misfortune of having a last name that sounds just like a word for poo? I don't know what to say, you guys. Clearly the point of Blubber was lost on me. Instead of thinking, "Bullying is really horrible; I will never treat anyone that way," my reaction appears to have been, "BLUBBER! What a hilarious nickname!"

Jon explained, "It's a perfectly normal name for-"
"A turd." exclaimed Mitzi, a broad smile on her face.
Laurie stood up. She sure looks hefty, I thought. [Um, screw you, Maggie.]
Laurie said, "I come from a long line of-"
"Turds." proclaimed Drake.
Mrs. Melnick gave the whole class detention, except for Jon and Laurie.

Serves those tall and slim bitches right!

I would like to make it clear that the character of Laurie Terd is entirely fictional. I did not actually harass any unfortunately named girls in the fourth grade. Apparently I just had a secret desire to IN MY MIND. (Is that better or worse? Good God.)

Sam, Sherry, and I are good friends. Sam can live without boys, too. Laurie's name is now, The Turd. At lunch, Sam came up to us and said, "There's a rumor going around that, embrace yourself, The Turd digs up her rear and eats it." Sherry gagged herself with her spoon. I pretended to barf.

First of all, no way is that rumor true. Who would do that? Second, I remember my mom's friend Linda read this book back in the day and said she thought it was "mean." At the time I was all, "Mean? Please, woman, it's LIFE." Now I'm thinking that mean doesn't even begin to describe it...

Sam, Sherry, and I formed a club called, WE CAN LIVE WITHOUT BOYS. One day we wore white tank tops and tight black shorts. Timmy, Drake, and James whistled at us. We giggled. I felt so evil.

Remember how Maggie kept wondering why everyone was calling her a tease? That could be why. Oh, or this:

Sam, Sherry, and I are going to be hookers for Halloween. We have some really great costumes. The boys' eyes will pop out their heads. We can't wait for Halloween. We are all going trick-or-treating together. That's how I build up my candy stash.

That's right, HOOKERS. Apparently "living without boys" translates to "taunting boys with your sexy fourth grade whore-wear."

Sam says I'm a tease, too. So, I have come to believe that I, Maggie Kertz, am a genuine tease. I told Sherry. She said, "It's not bad." Mitch said, "You sure are." Cassie said, "It's one of your better qualities." Sam said, "I was only kidding."

The club has meetings 3 times a week. Monday, 3:30, Sam. Wednesday, 4:00, Sherry. Friday [don't you mean Fri.?], 3:45, Me.

"Yo." said Daphne. She walked up to the club with Mitzi close behind. I wondered what they wanted.

"Yo." said Sherry, her mouth full of food. Daphne turned up her nose. I gave her a look that meant, WE ARE EATING. CAN'T YOU SEE? Mitzi had a blank look on her face. Daphne shot me a dirty one.

"So," Daphne propped herself up on her elbow. "I hear you gals started up a club. Can I join? Mitz and I were so TERRIBLY bored. Weren't we?"

Daphne wisped her hand through the air. "There's a draft in here." she announced. When she realized no one was listening, she went on. "So I went to get advice on all the newest clubs and which to choose. Down at Jenni's place. Mitz, remember you came, too."

Jenni is some sort of gossip-mongering goddess. She's like the fourth grade equivalent of Perez Hilton.

Mitzi nodded her head furiously, while Daphne sat proudly in her seat. I wish I could've video taped it.

I said, "Can you li-"
"No way can join, man." Sam broke in.
There was a look of pure displeasure on Mitzi's face. Daphne looked as if in a state of shock.
"That's right." Sherry agreed "Ya have to be... uh... qualified."
"And I'm NOT?" asked Daphne, shaking her bottom in the process. On purpose, too.
"Sorry." I said in a small voice, shaking my head.
Daphne trudged off, her skirt swaying side to side. Mitzi followed, a limp sack of potatoes.

Sam told all of us the lasted 'Turd' rumors. One day she came up to us and said, "The latest. [As opposed to the lasted.] Jenni says, 'Do ya gotta boyfriend.' Turd says, 'Yes, ma'am.' MA'AM? Can you believe it? Jenni gives her 'the look' and says, 'Who, what, when, where, and why?' All of the 5 W's. Didn't forget even 1. Turd says, "Who; you don't know him-John horowitz. What: a male human being. When; last year. Where: Snow White, the movie. Why: I gave him my popcorn."

Poor Laurie Terd cannot catch a break. But I really wish she would "dog them out" instead of calling them "ma'am."

Robby's last day. Marsha was in tears. He walked up to the front of the room to The Turd's desk. "You" he said pointing at The Turd "Are the only one for me."

The whole entire class stared up in disbelief at the front of the room as Jon made his way up there.

"You leave h-h-h-her a-a-alone." said Jon, stuttering as he claimed his thank-god-it-wasn't-me woman. Jon can't take a joke.

"You like Maggie. You always look at her." said Marsha. "Why aren't I the one for you. All I did." (At the last part she was speaking to Robby.)

"I like Maggie." said Steph coming in the door. "Hilda had me bring your lunch. You forgot it. Marsha, you're stuck-up. Robby? 'Bye." I love my little sister.

She's a chip off the old block of obnoxiousness, all right.

"Jenni," Sam called "Wait up."
"Huh?" asked Jenni, looking very impatient.
"Hi." Sherry and I said in turn, as if rehearsed.

"Cut the phony act. I gotta run." Jenni glanced nervously at her watch. "I ain't go all day you know." she reminded us. "What do you want?"

These shy, overweight girls are not going to slander themselves, you know!

"Data." said Sam.
Data, I thought, what kind of data?
"On clubs."
"On competition." sighed Sherry, agreeing fully.
"Yep." I said "Uh-huh."

Competition? What the... ?

Lunch break, bathroom break. Sam, Sherry, and I walked into the bathroom. There at the sink sat Kelly Ann Marie, smoking a cigarette. In my mind I changed "Smokin' in the Boys' Room" to "Smokin' in the Girls' Room".

I sang, "Smokin' in the girls' room."
"Boom bop boom." sang Sam and Sherry.
"Yeaaaaah. Smokin' in the girls' room."
"Whoaaaaa yeaaaaah."

Holy crap! They just broke into song!

"Ugh." said Kelly.

Kelly is the newest member of the club. She respects boys but, can live without them. Kelly has problems at home, that's why she smoked. Her cousin, Emmy, said smoking could cure your worst problems. Emmy, it just so happens, is the family troublemaker. Kelly's parents are divorced and, her dad's new wife is a pain. What's new?

Wait, wait, smoking CAN'T cure your problems?

"Get this." called Kelly, her red hair in a tight knot on the top of her head. "Emmy's switched schools and she'll be coming here. Oh god, I swear the school will have a false fire alarm some kid set the first day she comes here. I'll bet the kid who set it's initials are E.M. I hate Emmy."

That might be the most awkwardly phrased paragraph ever written.

"This is Emmy Martinson, class." said Mrs. Melnick. Emmy was gorgeous. Her curly red hair bounced around on her shoulders, glistening in the morning sun. Her sharp green eyes twinkled like shiny glass marbles. Everyone stared.

"Omigod." muttered Kelly.
"Whatcha mean? THAT is a priceless piece of art." said James. "HOT STUFF."

Wow, it's like I had never heard a boy speak. EVER.

"THAT, Lizard-breath, is my cousin."
"You're related? I see no resemblance."
"Color blind. Look, we both have red hair."
"Ya do? Oh, yeah, right."
"Look," said Kelly, yanking the rubber band out of her hair. "See?" she said as her red curls tumbled onto her shoulders.

"Kelly. James. Stop. Emmy, sit there." said Mrs. Melnick, pointing to a panic-stricken....... oh no.... SHERRY.

"Kirk Cameron is the most gorgeous person I have ever seen in my entire life." said Sam handing us a picture.

"Really," said Kelly "How about George Michael? I want your sex."

"Well," said Sam, ignoring Kelly's remark "This summer I'm going to Los Angeles, California to get Kirk's autograph."
"Neat" said Sherry.

"Did you know that George Michael comes from Austrailia Europe? Accent and all." said Kelly, changing the subject.

Ah yes, the distinctive "European" accent.

"Neat" said Sherry.

That was a section of Monday's meeting.

Way to live without boys, club! Well done! Oh, wait a second...

"I can't believe that Emmy." Sherry stomped angrily over to the table. "Ya know what she did? She took my report on Maine out of my desk while I was at my flute lesson. Then, she threw it in the garbage. She makes me sick."

"I hate Ms. Amano. Na, na. Hol ze fingas like dis. I really don't care how the heck I hold my fingers. Paying ze fute is vewy deficoat. And I don't care how I play 'ze fute'. I swear. God, I hate her." Sam walked over carelessly.

Apparently all Sam heard was "flute lesson." Either that or "Give us your worst French accent starting... NOW!"

From behind us there was a loud, clear giggle. Kelly rolled her eyes and covered her face with her hands. Sherry gagged herself. She knew that laugh, too. Sam just stood there with her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open. It could only be....... EMMY. Ooooops.

"God," said Emmy "You look like an earthquake hit. I, myself, would prefer to be where the earthquake is hitting. California is a dream. Mom and dad said they'd take me. I hear it's like murder in the summertime. Like heat wave city. I have a major crush on Chad Allen. Ever seen his sister, or should I say twin, Charity? Big nose alert. She's real good at gymnastics, though? Gimme a break. Well, what about you?" At least Emmy was being herself.

Does Emmy have ADHD, or has she switched from nicotine to speed? Also, this story spares no one—not even Chad Allen's not-famous twin sister, who I'm sure was quite good at gymnastics.

By the way, is anyone else amused that of the three "hot" celebrities mentioned so far, two are gay and the third is a freaky televangelist?

On Thursday I found myself at Kelly's house for a club meeting. Sherry was saying, "Kirk Cameron is not a boy. He's a man. I CAN'T live without HIM. [Well, at least we cleared that up. Boys, off-limits. MEN, however, fair game.] Kelly, you should have told us what a showoff Emmy is. Big mouth, too. I thought she would never stop. Sam, you must feel terrible. Talking so mean about California in the summer when that's when you're going. I hate her."

In Emmy's defense, I don't think she was aware of Sam's vacation plans when she made the infamous "heat wave city" comments. And anyway, it was obviously the caffeine pills talking. I hear they can cure your worst problems. Even PROBLEMS AT HOME.

"Let's talk about Halloween. It's tomorrow. I want to see what Emmy is." contributed Sam.

NEXT TIME: Embrace yourselves, because Halloween arrives in all its prostitute-tastic glory, and the outfits are described right down to the hot pink leather boots!