Geek Chic (7 page)

“Excellent hat choice, Z.
Molto
retro.”

Told Maddie the fedora wasn’t weird … but V and I agree the coat is another story. I’m swishing so loud I sound like our washing machine.

The coat slows me down, but I do my best to keep up with Venus as we power walk to our lockers.

Running in the hallways is not allowed at HST. That’s Rule #2. However, none of the teachers realizes that power walking is really slow running. Venus and I always get to our lockers faster than anyone else.

Except today.

The Bashleys are there first.

Moltosuspicious, because usually they are in the girls’ bathroom combing their hair—which usually doesn’t have to be combed anyway.

The Bashleys never have to wear hats.

But as mysterious as The Bashleys not being in the bathroom is, here’s the real question: Why are people taking pictures of The Bashleys and their friends in front of our lockers?

Before I can fully investigate, Mrs. Temlock-Fields stops Venus and me by the library door.

Her finger is on her lips.

“Sotto voce.”

Italian for “keep quiet.” That also goes for noisy coats.

She opens a bakery box.

Cannoli!

Mrs. Temlock-Fields not only likes to speak Italian, she likes to eat Italian too.

Mrs. T-F points to the people down the hall.

“A magazine from New York is taking photographs.
Shhhh.
”

Besides knowing library stuff, Mrs. Temlock-Fields makes it her business to know all sorts of other business too.

We’ve never had magazine people at our school before. Last spring a newspaper did an article on Mr. Gasparinetti, the second-grade teacher, because he unicycled to work every day for a whole year.

I thought it was because he didn’t want to
pollute and add to global warming, but now I’m wondering if it was just because he used to be in the circus.

(I’m leaning toward circus. His class uses an awful lot of paper.)

I take a bite of cannoli. “But why are magazine people in our hallway when it’s not even eight o’clock and nobody is supposed to be inside even on a freezing cold day except if you’re a fifth-grade safety patrol person like Venus and me?”

“Sotto voce, bambina!”

I whisper,
“Scusami” (which is Italian for “Excuse me”)
. I try not to swish so much either. It’s not easy. The hallways at HST have acoustics
bene.

“Mrs. Pappazian gave them permission weeks ago. The magazine is called
U GrL
. We have it in the periodical section of the Library.”

Capital of Burkina Faso: Ouagadougou

Mrs. Temlock-Fields keeps whispering.

“You should have been here five minutes earlier. See that fellow with red hair?”

Venus and I nod as we eat the cannoli.

“He saw Brittany, Ashley, and their friends Olivia and Jaclyn walking down the hall and asked if they would like to be in the photographs.”

Venus looks at me. “Cool.”

Very.

Having your picture taken for a magazine, even if it’s one that you’ve never heard of before, is extremely
boing
on the coolability meter.

Especially 181 days before sixth grade.

If only I hadn’t been slowed down by the poofy coat …

Venus wipes cream filling off her sweater.

“Mrs. T-F? Why do they want to take pictures at our school?”

“Oh, I believe Mrs. Pappazian said the magazine
is doing some sort of article about schools named after presidents.”

I almost choke on my cannoli.

“Presidents? Presidents of the United States? I can tell them everything they want to know about presidents! I’ve got a whole book on them in my locker. I’m even doing an extra-credit report on William Howard Taft!”

“That’s right, she does,” says Venus. “She is. Zoey can even list them in order forward and backward, everyward. I’ve heard her. Really. Zoey knows all about them. Show her, Zoey. …”

“William Howard Taft was three hundred and thirty-two pounds. The teddy bear was named after Theodore Roosevelt. The
S
in Harry S. Truman stands for absolutely nothing.”

“
Shhh!
Girls. Yes, yes, yes, Zoey, you know all about the presidents. But knowing about William Howard Taft doesn’t have anything to do with the photographs the magazine is taking for this article.”

It doesn’t? …

Well, How much sEnsE does THat make?

How can people not want to know about William Howard Taft? Or Harry? Or Dwight D. and Silent Cal? Very odd, if you ask me
(very, very odd)
.

Mrs. Temlock-Fields thinks giving us another cannoli will keep us quiet. She’s wrong.

Cannoli echo too.

Venus and I chew and crunch as we watch a bald guy with not even one speck of fuzz on his head
(true)
walk over and stand next to Ashley. She combs her hair as he holds up a long pole with a broken silver umbrella stuck on top.

Another man with a red ponytail and a tattoo on his arm muscle unravels fat wires that look like black spaghetti.
(Technically, Mrs. T-F would call it bucatini made with squid ink. You don’t want to know what squid ink really is. Trust me.)

Lady in Black is talking to everybody else dressed in black (except for one lady who is wearing camouflage boots). Boot Lady is holding a camera while another camera hangs around her neck. A
girl with long, blond, curly hair walks over to a big computer monitor.

I really think that somebody should know that President Truman was number thirty-three, came from Missouri, and liked to play the piano. And why aren’t The Bashleys, Olivia, or Jaclyn even holding an official HST Elementary School notebook?
Scusami
, but if you’re taking a picture of somebody from a school named after a president, then somebody should be holding a picture of that president. Or something!

Lady in Black moves Ashley and Brittany this way. Then Olivia and Jacyln that way. And I still don’t see anything about President Truman.

And then
(because, like I said, the acoustics are so bene)
,

I hear Lady in Black say, “Does anyone have something interesting in their locker that we can use in the photographs?” …

“I Doo ooooooOOO OOOO”

Even I didn’t know the hallway could echo like that.

“Excellent! Come on over and help us. Show me what you’ve got.”

Venus and I power walk over to my locker. There’s a lot of swishing, so I try to take off my poofy coat. It gets tangled in my safety patrol belt.

Lady in Black, whose name is Jazz, helps me off with the coat.

“Grabowski’s Tool and Die?” she says as I turn around to face my locker.

“It’s a bowling shirt,” I say as I spin the combination in record time. “My aunt says it’s vintage
and
retro.”

“Hmm … interesting. So … Ray, what have you got in that locker of yours?”

“Oh, her name isn’t Ray,” interrupts Venus. “It’s Zoey.”

“It’s my great-grandfather’s shirt; he actually voted for President Truman the year everyone thought he lost. But he really won. It’s a totally excellent story. Here—it’s all in this book.”

I open my locker.

There is a slight

(My locker is sort of like my room.)

4 books

on the presidents of the United States a thesaurus pix of Harrison history book
piccolo
crossword puzzles

Louisa May Alcott
  LITTLE WOMEN
(Who doesn’t want to be Jo?)

2 owl-puke pellets

a book on

King Tut
(the original celebritini)

Everything You Always Wanted to Know about Geography BUT Were Afraid to Ask
(Someday Venus and I will visit the Leaning Tower of Pisa and measure how far it really leans.)

3 tennis balls
colored
markers tube of green paint half-eaten apple sheet music and, of course, a roll of orange duct tape

Jazz to Boot Lady: “Fun! Get all of this, Maya.”

President Truman?

Click Click

Click
WHT?
Click
Tut
?

Click Click
Big Ben?

Click Click Click

my
Chucks? Click owl pellets?

Click
fedora?

The Bashleys laugh. Click
Me
?

The
Friends
of The Bashleys laugh.

Click Venus and I look at each other.

Click Click Click

We laugh too! Click