It rained on Friday morning, so Helga and Arnold took the bus to school. Phoebe and Gerald were already on it; their houses were farther from the school than Sunset Arms was.
Phoebe had apparently written a newsletter. "Would you like to read it?" Phoebe asked.
Helga took the paper from Phoebe's hands, then joined Arnold on the seat behind Gerald and Phoebe's seat.
"Dear fellow students," Helga read aloud, "as you may already know, the dessert menu at P.S. 118 has been altered. Last year, tapioca pudding was served four days a week, albeit in limited supply. This year, a slightly larger supply of pudding is being served on Wednesdays, but only on Wednesdays. Although they claim that the change was due to budget cuts, the school's decision to serve gelatin suggests otherwise."
It was not a short newsletter. "Very few students purchased gelatin, while tapioca pudding always sold out. The school also served pistachio pudding, which is Principal Wartz's favorite pudding flavor. I believe that the principal's biases are affecting our lunch menu. I, Phoebe Heyerdahl, along with Gerald Johanssen, Arnold Shortman, and Helga Pataki, have decided to boycott school lunch until this issue has been addressed. We hope that you, our fellow students, will join us in this endeavor. Sincerely, Phoebe Heyerdahl." Helga placed the paper on her lap.
"It sounds good, Phoebe," Arnold said.
"My girlfriend can write," Gerald said proudly.
"Phoebe." Helga chose her next words carefully. "Are you aware that most of our classmates...read at a fifth-grade reading level?"
"C'mon, Helga," Gerald said. "Phoebe didn't use that many big words."
"I learned the word endeavor when I was nine," Arnold said.
"You're a nerd," Helga reminded him. "No offense. I think it's cute."
Arnold smiled.
"You're welcome to edit it, Helga," Phoebe said. "But I think it would benefit our cause if our classmates think we're well-spoken."
"Everyone knows you're well-spoken," Helga said.
"Listen," Gerald said, "the sooner we send this newsletter out, the sooner people will join our boycott. I say we send it out as is, tonight."
"I agree," Arnold said.
"I concur," Phoebe said.
Helga couldn't help but smile. "I guess I'm outvoted."
During recess, Phoebe and Gerald learned the email addresses of almost every sixth-grader. Sid and Stinky didn't have email addresses—and one girl gave Gerald her dad's email address—but Helga felt confident as she and Phoebe walked to Phoebe's house after school.
"So your parents will let us hog the computer?" Helga asked as Phoebe rang the doorbell.
"I'm sure of it," Phoebe said. "My mother rarely uses it, and my father won't return home from work until five-fifteen."
Mrs. Heyerdahl opened the door. "There you are, Phoebe. Helga, nice to see you."
"You too, Mrs. Heyerdahl," Helga said.
As she and Phoebe stepped inside, Phoebe asked if they could send emails on the family computer.
"Sure," Mrs. Heyerdahl said. "What for? A school project?"
"I guess you could call it that," Helga said. "We're sending out newsletters."
Phoebe led Helga to the Heyerdahl family computer. "We'll use my email address," Phoebe said, "since I wrote and signed the letter."
"Mm-hmm." Helga took her ELA folder out of her backpack. "The email address list is in here."
Phoebe logged into her email account and typed her newsletter onto a draft. She was silent as she typed; Helga took her locket out to occupy her thoughts.
Oh, Arnold, Helga thought. It's been a month since we kissed in San Lorenzo, and I still can't believe it actually happened. Have you grown fonder of me since then? I know your emotions aren't always visible, but when we smile at each other, I feel your love. I feel it when we laugh, and when your eyes meet mine. I felt it the strongest when you complimented me, and I don't think I'll ever forget that feeling. Are you thinking about me now?
Phoebe was a fairly fast at typing. "Done," she announced. They were ready to send it to their classmates.