CHAPTER 12
The next morning, I woke up early to get ready for my first day at SMS. I put on a black long-sleeved Def Leppard T-shirt, dark blue jeans, and black boots, and went to the kitchen for breakfast. I guess I was still a little groggy, because the first thing I heard was a high-pitched whistling. That woke me right away, and when I looked around, I saw Mum boiling water in the brass tea kettle that's been in our family for years. In fact, Granny had left it to her in her will.
"Good morning, son," Mum smiled as I sat down at the kitchen table and reached for a blueberry muffin. She poured the water into cups—instant coffee for her and green tea for me. "So, are you ready for your first day at your new school?"
"I'm as ready as I'll ever be, I guess," I answered. "Hopefully, the kids will be nicer."
"I'm sure they will be, once they get to know you," Mum said, handing me my tea. "You know, it's like I always say: if you don't try new things, you'll never know what you're missing out on."
"Thanks, Mum."
Just then, Bebe came into the kitchen. "Hi, Jason," she grinned, pouring herself a glass of cranberry juice and sitting down across the table from me. "Don't forget, you promised to give me a ride to school today."
"Right," I said as I held the plate of muffins and she took another blueberry one. In the back of my mind, I hoped that nobody would give us a hard time.
"Have fun," Mum said as we got ready to head out the door.
"We will," Bebe said.
God, I hope so, I thought.
When I arrived at SMS, I parked my motor scooter next to the bike rack and chained it up. "Well, here goes," I said to myself as I headed to the front entrance of the school. For a small-town school, it was pretty crowded. I had a little trouble finding the office when I got inside, though.
"Can I help you?" a girl's voice asked. She was about a head shorter than me, had dark brown hair in a bowlcut, and was wearing a yellow short-sleeved blouse with brown polka dots, tan jeans, and yellow Chuck Taylor high-tops.
"Yeah," I answered. "I'm new here, and I can't seem to find the office."
"Oh," she said. "Follow me." As we started on our way, she said, "I don't mean to pry, but I couldn't help noticing your accent."
"No problem. And by the way, I'm originally from Scotland."
"Really?" the girl asked. I could tell she was really impressed. "I knew it was from somewhere in that general area. Did you know Ewan McGregor was from there, too?"
"Actually, yes. I have a cousin who's just nuts about him."
"He's one of my favorite actors, too. Oh, by the way, I'm Mary Anne Spier."
"Jason Everett," I said as I extended my hand.
"Hi, Jason, nice to meet you," she said as we stopped and shook hands. "That's the office on the right."
"Thanks," I grinned. "Nice to meet you, too."
"No problem," she answered, then went on her way.
The office wasn't too busy, mostly teachers going in and out. Call me crazy, but I almost expected the school nurse to come in and complain about her missing castor oil, or one of the teachers asking how many days there were until Christmas vacation. I kind of wondered that, tooo, but I had more important things to worry about.
"Can I help you?" the secretary asked.
"Maybe. I'm Jason Everett, and this is my first day here. I'm not exacty sure where I'm supposed to be."
"Oh? Well, welcome to Stoneybrook Middle School. I'm Mrs. Downey, the school secretary. We've been expecting you," she said, opening a file drawer and handing me a piece of paper. "Here's your schedule for the year, and you'll have to see the principal to get registered. His office is right around the corner there."
I studied my schedule for a moment. First was math, second was science, third was gym, fourth was study hall, fifth was lunch, sixth was English, seventh was social studies, and eighth was choir.
"Thanks," I said, and went from one office to the other. After giving my registration card to the principal, and basically getting familiar with how things worked, I made my way down the hall.
My first stop was at my new locker, which was across the hall from the principal's office, and it was actually in pretty good shape. I hung my jacket up and put Granny's picture on the shelf. "Wish me luck, Granny," I whispered as I shut the door. I had a feeling I'd need it.
After I left my locker, I went to homeroom, where I found a seat in the second row, sat down, and looked around at all the other kids coming in. Two girls in particular caught my eye. One was short with straight brown hair in a ponytail, like mine was, and wearing a pink turtleneck, blue denim overalls, and running shoes. The other was Asian, a few inches taller, and had loooong jet-black hair that was pulled back like Qui-Gon Jinn. She was also wearing a white shirt that was similar to the one on that episode of Seinfeld, except it was covered in rhinestones, black fishnet tights, a gray pleated skirt, and ox-blood Doc Martens with yellow laces. I liked them immediately. The brown-haired girl was kind of cute, but the Asian girl was a real looker!
Anyway, I waved to them. I guess I must have some kind of effect on people, because the taller girl's jaw nearly fell off her face. "Hi," I said casually. Both of them came right over.
"Hi," the brown-haired girl said. "You're new here, right?"
I nodded. "My name's Jason Everett. We just moved here yesterday from Long Island."
"Are you sure that's where you're from?" the Asian girl asked. She was apparently drawn to my accent.
"Well, Scotland, actually. My mum and I moved here when I was four," I explained.
"Really?" the Asian girl asked. "By the way, I'm Claudia Kishi, and this is Kristy Thomas."
"Nice to meet you," I said, shaking their hands.
"Didn't I see you heading to Stoneybrook Elementary this morning?" Claudia asked.
"Mm-hm," I answered. "My stepsister goes there. She's in fifth grade."
"Oh, that was nice of you to give her a ride," Kristy said. "And you know that brand-new apartment complex at the end of McLelland Road?"
I nodded. "My stepdad's the new superintendent over there," I told them. That's when the bell rang, and my first day at SMS was soon underway.
Lunchtime soon rolled around. I was glad I'd brought mine from home, because the cafeteria food was even less identifiable than on Long Island. If the other kids wanted to call me a wuss, be my guest. Just done come crying to me if you get sick.
I'd just gotten a Diet 7-Up from the vending machine, and was looking for a place to sit, when Claudia waved me over to where she was sitting.
"Hi, again," I said as I sat down. Beside me was another girl with the darkest, curliest hair I'd ever seen. Across from her was a blonde that could've easily passed for eighteen, and across from me was another blonde, and she was eating a tofu burger. For some reason, something about the first blonde looked vaguely familiar.
Kristy joined us a minute later. "Well, I see you've met the Baby-sitters Club," she commented as she set her tray down beside the dark-haired girl. "By the way, that was a smart move, bringing your lunch. Otherwise..." And she started humming the People's Court theme.
"That bad, huh?" I guessed.
"Oh, you don't know the half of it," the tofu-burger blonde said.
"Four-six—point-15192304...2304..." the dark curly-haired girl said, erupting into giggles, which proved to be contagious.
"You bet," Kristy said. "Okay, this is where I introduce everybody, and tell you more about us. You already know me and Claudia. I'm the president, and Claudia's the vice-president. The blond bombshell to my left is Stacey McGill, our treasurer. The girl with the bowlcut who's coming our way is Mary Anne Spier, our secretary. The girl who thinks she's Rain Man is Abby Stevenson, and the tofu burger girl is Dawn Schafer, our alternate officers. And that brown-haired guy sitting with that bunch of yahoos down there is Logan Bruno, an associate member. But don't worry, he's reasonably human."
"Well, I should hope so!" Mary Anne laughed, setting her tray down between Kristy and Stacey. Then she saw me. "Hey, aren't you the guy I helped find the office this morning?"
"Aye," I answered. "Is it always that busy?"
"Only in the mornings," she answered. "Also, I'm not too sure, but I think there are seventy-five days until Christmas vacation."
"Okay, Sandy," Kristy said, which led to another round of giggles.
"Aren't you in my math class?" I asked Stacey.
She nodded. "I was the one who could solve that one killer equation like that," she said, snapping her fingers.
"But didn't I see you somewhere else?"
"No, I don't think so."
"Well," I said thoughtfully, unwrapping my sandwich, "when my mum and I first moved into this flat in Manhattan, I was looking out my bedroom window at Central Park, and saw a man crossing the street with his little girl on his shoulders."
"My dad used to carry me on his shoulders when I was little."
"Did he carry you across Central Park West like that?"
Stacey's eyes widened. "That's right! You know, I sort of remember looking up at this apartment building and seeing a little boy looking back at me."
"I'll bet he looked like Damien from The Omen, right?"
"Yeah, a little." Then she dropped her fork in her salad. "That was you?"
"Yeah, it sure was."
That's when I looked at Abby, and noticed that she was deep in thought. "Is your stepdad Steve Everett?" she asked.
"Yeah. Why?"
"I thought so," she smiled. "My mom once told me she'd dated Steve in junior high, and also that he and my dad were such good friends, and about the hiking trip they'd taken across Canada with a couple of their friends after they'd graduated from high school."
"Really?" I asked. "Steve once told me about that. In fact, he said that was how he'd met Bebe's mum."
Now, it was Abby's turn for her eyes to widen. "Bebe?" she exclaimed. "I think I remember being at her first birthday party. Mom said that Anna didn't want to stay dressed, and I'd eaten a piece of cake off Bebe's forehead."
Every single person at our table cracked up at that, and if you were to ask how long it took us to stop, I really don't know.
I don't mean to get off the subject here, but Steve once showed me some pictures from that party, and there's one of Bebe and one of her cousins, Kyle—whose birthday is close to hers—sitting in high chairs, doing the one-year-old's tradition of smashing the cake. And no, there are no pictures of them covered in cake.
After we'd calmed down, we were silent for a moment. You know how it feels when you meet someone as a little kid, then don't see them again until you're older—or in the case of adults, meeting someone in their teens, and then seeing them again when they're an adult or approaching middle age? That pretty much summed it up.
It was then that Abby started singing "Small World" from Gypsy, making us cringe. Her voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard, even worse than Aunt Amy.
I was getting ready to do my Simon Cowell impression when I saw a tough-looking kid walk by. He basically looked like a reject from The Outsiders. "Well, now we know why there's noise pollution," he smirked.
"Aw, stuff a sock in it, T-Jam," Kristy shot back. (T-Jam? What kind of a name was that?)
"Who'll make me?" T-Jam asked. "Scarface here? And don't ask me to say hello to your little friend."
"Better get lost, or I'm telling the principal," Dawn warned. That really got everyone's attention. She may have looked like a flower, but from her tone of voice, she sounded more like a prison guard.
"Oh, my, my," T-Jam said sarcastically. "This girl's got me scared to death. What am I going to do now?"
"All right," I said as I stood up. "You heard her, now am-scray." I wasn't angry yet, and frankly, that's the last thing I wanted to happen, because I'd hate it if these nice, sweet girls saw me lose my temper.
"Oh, really?" T-Jam asked, imitating my accent.
Here we go again, I thought. To no one's surprise, T-Jam not only continued imitating my accent, but he was also thumping me in the chest and daring me to hit him back.
"Hey, leave him alone!" Abby shouted, jumping up and shoving T-Jam. In one second flat, everyone in that entire cafeteria was looking at us. And even though I was trying to fight the urge to take a swing at this creep, I could feel my left fist slowly clenching, as though it had a mind of its own.
"Well," T-Jam said as he regained his footing. "Are you going to let these girls fight your battles for you? That's so sweet."
That was it. That was just IT! The next thing I knew, I had him by the neck and slammed him against the wall. Just as I raised my arm to punch him out, I felt someone take my arm and twist it behind my back. I looked out of the corner of my eye, and saw Kristy.
"Back off!" she barked.
"What's going on here?" an adult voice demanded.
"He started it, Mr. Taylor," Kristy said, pointing in T-Jam's direction.
"All right, that's enough! If there's any more trouble, I'll see the two of you in my office after school. Are we clear?"
"Yes, sir," I said as T-Jam slunk away. As I sat back down, I noticed the other girls staring at me in surprise. I could tell that was the last thing any of them expected to see. On the upside, none of them left to go sit somewhere else, or avoided me for the rest of the day, but I still felt like I'd made a lousy first impression.
The following Monday, I was leaving the guys' locker room after gym class, and was on my way to study hall when I saw Kristy. "Hi, Kristy," I said.
"Hi," she answered. "Can I talk to you?"
"Sure."
"Well," she began as we headed to the library, "I told my mother and stepfather about what happened last week, and they weren't too happy. In fact, they said we should probably leave you alone."
I sighed and shook my head. "I'm really not surprised," I said. "The thing is, I've always had a bit of a problem with my temper. I'm sorry you had to see that, but all I was trying to do was stand up for you and your friends."
Kristy's face softened. "I understand, and I accept your apology," she said. "But promise me you'll never do anything like that again.
"Okay."
"You know, my little stepsister seems to like you. In fact, all the way home from the library, she kept going on and on about how great she thinks you are."
"Really?" I asked. "Wow!"
See what I mean when I say I have an effect on people?
"Have you ever done any baby-sitting?" Kristy asked.
"Only my stepsister," I answered. "Once, about a couple of years ago, we were home alone after school, and she said she wanted to watch Steve's new Elvis: Aloha from Hawaii DVD. After I put it on for her, I went to the kitchen for a couple of sodas, and there was a knock at the door."
"Did you ask who it was?" Kristy asked, looking me in the eye.
"Of course I did," I answered. What did she think I was, an idiot? "It was a woman from FedEx, wanting to drop off a package for Mum. And yes, I asked her to slide the clipboard through the mail slot so I could sign it. After she left, I took the package inside and set it on the coffee table. Mum and Steve came home about half an hour later, and after I told them what happened, they said I'd done the right thing."
Kristy seemed pretty impressed. "That's exactly what I would have done," she said. "They must have been pretty proud of you, huh?"
"Well, yeah," I said, trying to sound modest.
"You know, if you wanted to, you could sit with us at lunch again."
"Really? Thanks!" I grinned.
I guess you've already figured out the rest of this story.