Clauda Kishi, Middle School Dropout (9 page)

Thankfully, the phone started to ring and I was saved from having to talk about it anymore. Calls were coming in from parents who needed sitters to take their kids trick-or-treating, and Mal and Jessi and I decided to plan a group outing. Since everyone else would be at the dance, it was up to us to cover that night's jobs.
Later, when the meeting was over and everyone was gone, I did cry - just a little. Then I blew my nose and pulled out my homework. I started on my math problems, but my mind kept drifting, so I switched to English and tried to study vocabulary words. I couldn't concentrate on those, either, so I opened my social studies book and read through a whole chapter, without absorbing a word. Finally, I opened my science notebook, took one look at the lab results I was supposed to write up, and snapped it shut.
It wasn't that the work was hard. I just didn't care anymore.
I sat at my desk, feeling sorry for myself. What if I couldn't even cut it in seventh grade? Would Kingbridge send me back to sixth? My mind drifted into a horrible daydream. What if I kept being sent back forever? I pictured myself sitting at one of those little-kid desks in third grade.
The fantasy grew until finally I saw my iriends in caps and gowns, happily graduating from high school, while I sat in a circle in Mrs. Kushel's kindergarten room, displaying a crayon drawing for show-and-tell. Claudia Kishi, Teenage Kindergartner. Was that my destiny?
Chapter 13.
Come on, everybody, let's bob for apples!" Ms. Spacey, dressed as. the Bride of Frankenstein, was acting like a cheerleader at a pep rally. She was just full of the Halloween spirit.
So was everybody else in the cafeteria, everybody except me. Halloween had finally arrived, but I didn't care. I had decided against wearing my costume to school, even though I've always loved to do that. We have a new Halloween tradition at SMS. Everybody wears costumes to school and in the middle of the morning the students meet in the parking lot. We form a parade and head down the street and around the corner to the elementary school, where the teachers have brought the little kids outside for a special recess. We parade around the school playground, waving at the kids and shouting, "Happy Halloween!" They love it, we love it. It's a lot of fun.
Or, at least it usually is. This year it wasn't.
Not for me. Marching along with the others, I felt even more out of place than usual. I was wearing school clothes (jeans, boots, one of my father's white shirts, and a vest) and everybody else' was dressed outrageously, even some of the teachers.
There was Mr. Schubert, for example, in a big black cape and fangs: Dracula. And Mrs. Hall was dressed as a gypsy, in a long red skirt and lots of jewelry. They led the parade.
Alan Gray, the most obnoxious boy 'in school, was marching near me in a Mask costume: green face, yellow suit, and all. Cokie Mason, a BSC archenemy, was dressed all in pink, as Barbie. (Could you gag?) And Ron Belkis, who had been after me to go out with him, was dressed as a knight in not-so-shining (it was made out of cardboard, I think) armor.
My BSC friends were in a bunch near the front of the crowd, but I stayed away. I felt awkward about joining them. They were all in costume, for one thing. And for another, I just didn't feel that I belonged with them. After all, they were either in eighth grade or sixth. I was in the middle, in seventh grade. No man's land. (Or should that be no girl's land?) After the parade, we went back to our classes, but none of the teachers was trying too hard to teach us anything. They knew it was a lost cause. Everybody was way too keyed up about Halloween. To my eye, the seventh-graders were acting like a bunch of children. I mean, Halloween is fun, but come on. It's mainly for little kids. Once you're over ten years old, how much can it mean to you? .A lot, I guess. Judging by the excitement level at the sixth-and-seventh-grade party, which started right after school, some middle school kids still think Halloween is the most important holiday of the year.
When Ms. Spacey invited everyone to bob for apples, for example, the kids thundered over to ' her like a herd of 'buffalo. (If you can imagine a herd of buffalo dressed up like characters such as Bart Simpson, Mr. Spock from Star Trek, and a werewolf, that is.) Soon apple-bobbing was in full swing, and I was glad I'd stayed on the other side of the cafeteria. The boys were acting really obnoxious, as only seventh-grade boys can. They were splashing water around and tossing apples at each other. The girls were screeching and squealing and carrying on. What a scene. I rolled my eyes.
"Isn't this great?" asked Jessi, joining me. She was dressed as a sugarplum fairy, all pink and frilly, and she looked terrific. Mal was with her, wearing a high-necked white blouse and a floor-sweeping black skirt. Her hair was powdered white and twisted into a bun. She carried a long feathered quill pen.
They grinned at me. "See, it's fun, right?" Mal asked. She didn't wait for an answer. "And the decorations are awesome, aren't they?" The "decorations" consisted of a bunch of black and orange crepe-paper streamers, a few corn stalks, and a pile of pumpkins.
"Yeah, sure, they're great," I muttered. Mal gave me a funny look. But before she could say anything, Mr. Peters (who was wearing an Einstein mask, with a funny white wig) announced that it was time for the pumpkincarving contest.
"Enter it, Claud," said Jessi, giving me a little push. "You'll win first prize for sure." I stood stock still, resisting the pressure of her hand. "So?" I said.
"So it'll be cool," said Mal. "We can show you off to all our friends. They'll be so impressed when they find out what a great artist,,.,, you are." "Oh, please," I said. "Who cares if a bunch of little brats are impressed by me?" Mal and Jessi just stood there with their mouths open, staring at me. I saw the hurt in their eyes, but it was too late to take back what I'd said. Anyway, I didn't want to take it back.
I meant it. The sixth- and seventh-graders were so immature.
I turned and walked away from Mal and Jessi. As I left the cafeteria, Ron Beikis called after me. "Claudia, my fair maiden, wait up!" The visor on his knight costume kept falling down over his face as he ran after me.
What a jerk. I ignored him and kept on walking. And I didn't stop until I was home. Then I went to my room, shut the door, and did some serious sulking.
Two hours later, when the BSC meeting started, I knew I'd been wrong to take out my feelings on Mal and Jessi. I apologized to them as soon as they arrived,, and they seemed to accept my apology. But I knew Mal and Jessi didn't really understand what I was going through. None of my friends possibly could. After all, they were right where they belonged. How could they know how awful it was to feel as if you didn't fit in?
The only place I'd felt at home recently was at Serena McKay's art class, and now that was over. I'd attended the final session the night before. Our work was hung in the art gallery, ready for the show and judging on Saturday. I wasn't even sure I was going to attend the show. I didn't expect to win a prize. After all, I was only an eighth - I mean a seventh117 grader. So why go? It would only make me feel more depressed.
Art class was great, but it wasn't real life. I had to face that fact.
Anyway, at the beginning of our meeting, I passed out pretzels again, but again, nobody seemed to notice that the cuisine wasn't up to my usual standards. Mal and Jessi were too busy reporting on how much fun the party had been, and the rest of the club members were gabbing about plans for the dance.
"So, my mom said she'd drive us over, and Watson will pick us up," Kristy told Abby. "Is Anna coming?" "Oh, sure," said Abby. "She's dressing as Hildegarde von Bingen. That's some famous woman composer. Nobody will have any idea who she is, but that doesn't bother Anna." "Sharon said she'd be glad to give us a ride," Mary Anne told Stacey. She glanced in my direction and sighed. "I sure wish you were coming, Claudia," she said.
I, felt tears come to my eyes, but I refused to let them drop. "I don't," I declared. "Who wants to put up with Alan Gray prancing around saying 'Smmmokin!' all night?" I didn't mean to sound sour, but I guess I did. After that, none of my friends even made eye contact with me.
Okay, I admit it. I sulked through the meet- ing. I was acting like a child, and I knew it, but I couldn't seem to stop. I felt separated from my friends, but the truth was that I had been the one to do the separating. They didn't care what grade I was in. And it wasn't their fault I couldn't go to the dance. They cared about me - or at least, they did until I started acting like 'the world's biggest pill. Eventually I was going to have to snap out of it, but that day I just couldn't find it in my heart to do it. If anything could pull me out of my doldrums, you'd think it would be trick-or-treating. After all, what's more fun than being with a bunch of kids on the mos't kid-oriented holiday of the year? I mean, kids love holidays, but Halloween is something special. There's the dressing up part of it, which would be fun on its own. But then you add in the fact that people are 'handing out candy right and left, and there you have it. Kid heaven. And Claudia heaven, too - you'd think. Dressing up + kids + candy = happiness, right? Well, not in this case. Somehow I managed to hold onto my lousy mood throughout the evening.
Mal and Jessi and I had agreed to take a bunch of kids trick-or-treating, so we met at Mal's house right after dinner. The Pike kids were already on hand, of course, and they were practically bouncing off the walls with excitement.
Adam, Byron, and Jordan weren't coming with us. They were going trick-or-treating with friends, instead. But they didn't mind showing off their pirate costumes. Jordan nearly took off my head with his sword when I walked into the Pikes' den, and Adam let out a yell of "Avast, ye landlubbers!" Jordan showed me his papier-mâché parrot, which looked excellent perched on his shoulder.
Vanessa drifted in next, dressed in tie-dye, bells, bangles, and beads, and looking very hippie-ish. "Peace and love and happiness," she said, flashing me the peace sign. "Halloween is the grooviesL" Nicky's mummy costume was perfect, and Margo and Claire both looked like authentic Native American girls, though I have to admit I couldn't tell Pocahontas from Sacajawea.
Jessi arrived next, with Becca and Charlotte in tow. Charlotte was dressed as a doctor and looked just like her mom, and Becca was wearing one of Jessi's old tutus. No sooner had the two of them arrived than the rest of the kids showed up.
The youngest were Jenny Prezzioso and Jamie Newton, who are four years old. Both of them have baby sisters, so their parents were happy to have us take the older siblings trickor-treating. Jamie was a robot, and Jenny was a black kitten. Then there were' Laurel and Patsy Kuhn. Their older brother Jake had made plans to go trick-or-treating with Matt Braddock, so the girls came with us. Laurel, who's six, was dressed as a fifties girl in a poodle skirt and saddle shoes. Her sister, who's five, made an adorable fairy princess in a pink satin dress, her 'mother's high heels, and a "diamond" tiara.
The kids had a terrific time. We took them on a tour of two different neighborhoods, and they filled up their goodie sacks to the brim. (They told everyone about Hospital Buddies, and people were very generous with the treats.) Mal and Jessi (who were also wearing their costumes) collected some treats, too. They thought the night was terrific.
Me? My mood didn't lift. Oh, I chowed down a couple of chocolate bars the kids gave me, but for once candy didn't make my outlook brighter. All I could think about was what a good time every eighth-grader at SMS was having that night while I was stuck with the little kids. It was the worst Halloween ever.
Chapter 14.
The phone started ringing before I was even fully awake the next morning. The first call was from Stacey.
"Claud? Boy, did I miss you last night!" she began. "The dance was 'okay, but it just wasn't the same without you." She chattered on, telling me about everyone's costumes, about the decorations, about the refreshments. Every couple. of sentences she mentioned again how much she'd missed me, or told me that somebody had asked about me.
I knew she was trying to make me feel better, and I tried to be polite. But the fact was that she was only making me feel worse about missing the dance.. It sounded like a pretty good one, and hearing about it made me feel even more left out.
Finally, she asked if she'd see me later at the hospital party. I said yes, but I wasn't so sure about that. I didn't feel much like going to a party..
As soon as Stacey said good-bye and hung up, the phone rang again.
"Claud? It's Mary Anne. I just wanted to tell you how much I missed you last night." Mary Anne was using that understanding, sensitive voice of hers. "Logan said he missed you, too," she went on. Then she told me about the dance.
I listened, saying "Uh huh," and "That sounds like fun," in the right places, but the fact was that I couldn't wait to finish our conversation and say good-bye.
Finally,, Mary Anne wound down. I hung up the phone, climbed out of bed, and started thinking about what to wear. Then the phone. rang again. This time it was Abby.
"Hey, C1audia~" she said "Know what~ You didn't miss much. The dance was okay, but not great" She went on talking about how much everybody had missed me, but I started to tune out Obviously, my friends had decided I needed cheering up, and they'd all agreed to call me. Didn't they think I'd see through their plan? They were treating me like a httle kid I hated the idea that everyone felt sorry for me. ' By the time Kristy called, I was fed up. I came close to being rude to her, but she didn't seem to notice. She just went on and on about how lousy the decorations were without me on the committee, and how much everyone had missed seeing what costume I had come' up with. Blah, blah, blah. I heard her voice, but I wasn't really listening. Finally, she said she'd see me that afternoon at the hospital party. Then we said good-bye and I hung up my phone with a sigh. Hearing about the dance, I felt like the 'Poor Little Match Girl, standing on the cold and snowy sidewalk with her nose pressed against a window, looking into the bright warmth of the rich people's house.
I sat on my bed, still dressed in my pajamas, and thought about pulling the covers over my head and hiding from the world for the rest of the day. I certainly didn't feel like going to the Halloween party at the hospital. I wasn't' even too thrilled about attending the opening of the art show. I suppose I should have invited my friends to the opening, but I hadn't even mentioned it to them, and nobody had remembered to ask about it. Same with my parents and Janine, who were busy with errands and weekend activities. If I went to the opening, I'd have to go alone.