How to Outrun a Crocodile When Your Shoes Are Untied (17 page)

“An iguana can stay underwater for twenty-eight minutes.”

—Animal Wisdom

After letting Pete in on my plan (and after Rayna and Brooke took off to find a bathroom to reapply Ashley's ego and plot my demise, no doubt), Zack came up to me when I was talking to Beatrix. Did I mention that Bea said
she
wanted to work in a zoo when she was older? Because of
me
. So cool.

Anyway.

The funny thing about mothers is you can think they're so out of touch one minute, then the next they're totally eyeing you with that little knowing grin. Mom must have known something was going on when Zack sauntered up to me, because she kept giving me That Look. And when Dad kept on talking about turtle shells or something, she even grabbed him by the shoulder and said they had to get going.

“We have to check on the gorillas, hun, but you feel free to stay here and answer any more questions…” She trailed off, eyeing Zack suspiciously.

I shoved my hands in my pockets. For the first time in my life, I could look him in the eye without sputtering all over myself or struggling not to pass out. Had Sugar given me superpower makeup or something? Was it me?

“So, Annie,” he said. I smiled, noticing that the familiar thumping in my chest had died away. I didn't even think about Ashley, who was probably staring daggers at me from someplace hidden.

“You were great out there today. It's totally awesome that you get to do this.” He nodded his head, looking around the auditorium.

“Yeah, it took some getting used to”—I paused—“but I'm really glad I tried it.” I was glad my mom didn't hear that.

He stood a little straighter and rocked on his heels. “So, do you have any more presentations coming up? I mean, are you busy tomorrow?”

I cocked my head.

He continued, “If you're not, I was thinking maybe you could come with me to the School End Dance? I know it's lame and probably isn't your thing, and maybe you've got something…maybe with Livia online, or…”

My face flushed, and I could hear a woodpecker in my chest. But the funny thing was, it wasn't a happy, excited woodpecker. It was a woodpecker that was warning me. A disappointed feeling floated up inside me. Sort of like when you finally go ahead and try a new kind of ice cream, only to realize that it wasn't worth all the hype. In fact, it wasn't worth ordering at all and you should have stuck with your favorite.

I chewed my lip. Hadn't Zack been making goo-goo eyes at Sugar the whole time anyways? Looking down at his hands, I noticed he was fiddling with a tennis ball, like he always did. A dark realization crept over me as I looked him in the eyes.

I couldn't believe I'd taken this long to figure it out.

“Zack,” I said quietly, “was it you in the cafeteria?” I eyed him. “You know”—I pointed to his tennis ball—“with the chicken parm…all over me…” I emphasized each word.

His face went white, and he gave me a familiar look. It was the same look that Daz gave me when I caught him trying to put another cockroach in my boot or something equally awful. “You did!
You
were the one who threw it! Nobody has aim like that,” I exclaimed, swatting the ball from his hand.

“Hey! Annie, I'm sorry! How was I supposed to know that you'd be some…” He stared at me, but his eyes darted to the camera crew that was packing up.

“What?! That I'd be on TV?! Or the news? You thought you'd show up now, right? Even though you've been as awful as the rest of them!” I gritted my teeth.

“So is that a no?” he muttered, scuffing the ground with his shoe.

“Maybe you should ask Ashley. I know she's wanted to go with you this whole year. It would make sense too, seeing how you're both attention-seeking jerks.” I turned and stomped away, fuming at how stupid I could have been for all this time. How could he be so…arrogant?! Then I remembered something.

One last thing.

“Oh and, Zack?” I yelled, watching him swivel around with a moody look. It was so weird how he was cute this morning, but now he looked almost
boring
in his polo shirt. “My name is
Ana
!”

I stormed off behind the bleachers. I couldn't believe I just told off the guy I'd been crushing on forever. I also couldn't believe I'd been crushing on a total
dolt
forever, either. It felt like such a waste. I wanted to go back into all of my old notebooks and scribble over every time I mentioned his name. Especially the places where I'd smooshed together our names with a little heart around them.
Ugh.
Were all guys awful like that?

I huffed through my clenched teeth, squeezing my arms around my chest.

No, I knew they weren't.

Not all guys wore blazingly yellow polo shirts and tossed tennis balls into my chicken parm. Some stayed late at school for hours on a Friday night to help me with fractions. Some picked awful and degrading posters off the wall to protect me. Some, despite me being a total spaz on national television, would show up and cheer me on for the biggest day of my life so far.

“Ana?”

The voice was familiar as I felt a tap at my shoulder. I turned around and smiled.

“Hi, Kev.” It's funny how I never noticed how pretty his hair color was until now. I was also suddenly ridiculously aware of his lips. His dark eyes.

“Quite the line up to get to you,” he said, nodding to the crowd. “I heard you tell off Zack.” He grinned, revealing a small dimple on his cheek.

“Yeah…” I said, hoping that he couldn't hear my pulse going crazy. “He turned out to be a total jerk.” I sighed.

Kevin stepped forward, making my vision tunnel. I had to work to stay balanced. “I was wondering if you'd ever figure that out.”

“So are you going to the dance tomorrow?” I ventured, then immediately clamped my mouth shut. Why did I ask that? Of course he's not going to the dance. He's probably too busy building genius robots out of old Apple computers like the genius robot-building-Apple-computer guy he is, or maybe even going to some other dance at some other school with some other girl who does
not
have crickets in her pockets. He definitely wouldn't be going to some loser Monday-night dance where they serve watered-down fruit punch and—“Yeah,” he said, crossing his arms. “Daz wants to bring his Wolfman mask.” He smiled knowingly. “Will I see you there?”

Oh.

I nodded, probably a little too eagerly. “Yeah. Maybe we should all go together.” I fidgeted with the tip of my braid. “I mean, Bella and Daz and us two. We can get shakes before, maybe,” I said.

He smiled, heaving a big exhale. “Awesome. I'll see you tonight too. Daz and I are building a robot tarantula at your place.” His eyes twinkled.

Of course they were.

As I waved at him walking away, I had to steady myself. It was like a dream. Better than a dream, actually, because I didn't wake up to find any ancient reptiles in my bed afterward. Before the presentation, I'd felt like the world had pecked little holes in me—that the wind might blow me away. But now I felt solid, like I could take on anything.

A paper airplane zoomed into my hair, poking me in the ear.

Well, almost anything.

“Hey!” I didn't need to look to see who had thrown it. Daz's eyes were narrowed. His hand was stroking his chin like he had a beard. Like he was capable of growing a beard. Hah.

“So…” he said, circling me like a shark. “You and Kevin, hmm? Did I overhear something about a dance?” He kept circling, eyeing me up and down. I swung around to keep him from getting behind me. Never turn your back on a sneaky sibling.

I stared at him, holding my chin high. A grin leaked onto my face. “I don't know what you're talking about,” I prompted him. I tapped the brim of my hat up with a flick of my finger. “We're all going together. Including Bella,” I said. “I didn't think
you'd
have any complaints,” I said slyly. “Or maybe I should tell her that you don't want to go…?” I trailed off, pretending I was looking around for Bella.

He squared his shoulders at me, and I readied myself for the noogie that was inevitably coming. Good-bye, beautiful side braid. His eyes were narrow slits of gray, but he couldn't hide the grin either. I knew what my own bluff face looked like just as well as his. And he knew it.

“I suppose I can deal with it,” he said but still gave me a halfhearted shove in the arm. When you have a brother, you learn the language of his shoves pretty quickly, and this one said, “Thanks, brat.”

He so owed me.

“But maybe we should all do dinner instead of shakes,” he said with a sneaky grin.

“Oh, sure,” I scoffed. “Because I'm loaded with lots of money from my big movie scene.” I poked at the pathetic bits of lint balled inside my pocket.

“I'll pay.” He shrugged, giving me a false look of innocence. He looked like he might burst if I didn't ask him what the heck he was up to.

“Do I even want to know?” I grimaced.

“I might happen to have a little extra money this year,” he said loftily, crossing his arms. “I thought it would be a nice gesture as a
brother
, you know? Take my sister and her friends out to dinner…” His voice was low and oh-so-proud. Totally devious Daz at his finest.

“Did you
steal
from somebody?” I asked. I searched the auditorium for someone looking for a missing wallet. Mom would have his butt grounded for life. “Ohh, you are so going to get it!”

His mouth fell open in mock disbelief. “Of course not. What do you think I am? An amateur? I've merely been providing a unique zoological
experience
,” he said.

“Meaning…?” A vision of the bags of crickets that he'd snuck from the kitchen bubbled up in my mind. The crowds of visitors outside my window every morning.

“I've been letting some lucky zoo-goers feed my snakes, that's all.”

My jaw dropped. “People have been
paying
you to do your own chores?!” I shrieked. My own brother. Either the biggest con in the world or, I hated to admit, a supergenius.

His eyes brightened, and he checked behind him for any signs of Mom. “Brilliant, right?” he said, nudging me with an elbow.

“Thirty percent or I tell Mom.” I lifted my chin. Clearly he was a bad influence on me. “
And
no more snakes in my bed. Ever.”

He gave me an appraising stare. “Ten,” he replied, his eyes twinkling. “And no dice on the snakes.”

Some things will never change. “Fine, twenty.”

“Done,” he said, spitting on his hand and holding it out to me. I considered for a second before giving in, slapping my hand into his gooey palm. What's the phrase? If you can't beat 'em, join 'em?

I'd have to warn Bella about him, for sure.

I looked toward the tent at my new friend, who was, in a totally bizarre image, talking excitedly to Kevin in the bleachers.

I felt a swell of pride bubble up inside me as I watched.

I, Ana Wright, had done it. I led my presentation, finished seventh grade with a bang (well, more like a splat—hah!), landed my first group date (it counts!), and felt
amaaaz-ing
.

So what if my entire family lived in a zoo and I smelled like every stinky animal known to man.

So what if my best friend lived on the other side of the planet with sheep and hobbits.

So what if my grandpa is a world-renowned crazy naturalist with a girlfriend named after a food group.

And so what if I have a ridiculous safari hat on my head.

Actually, the hat totally sucks. But still.

“Crocodiles don't have sweat glands and must release heat through their mouths.”

—Animal Wisdom

Hurry up, Ana.

I squirted a thin line of glue on the last photograph and searched for one last empty spot on the poster board. The stills that Pete had given me from my presentation were perfect. I was in some of them, holding Goliath, Otis, and Frankie for the audience to see. My side braid was shiny in the sunlight, and I couldn't help but giggle when I saw the happy twinkle in my eyes. I was teaching a whole crowd of people, and that giddy feeling hadn't left me all weekend. Like I was a kite flying on the wind.

But my new seventh-grade true self collage was a lot more than just me.

The faces of Mom and Dad were tucked in around the colorful animal photographs, along with Grandpa in his bright shirt and Sugar in her ginormous heels and perfect miniskirt. Daz's sneaky grin, Kevin's dimple, and Bella's hair clips stood out against the lime-green poster board. Even the Sneerers, hiding behind a picture of a camel, were there. I figured that I wouldn't be my seventh-grade true self without them, so why not include
everybody
, right? Magazine cutouts of banana splits, old pictures of Liv clinging to me at our sixth-grade graduation, and my grandpa's newspaper article peppered the borders. In the center was a tiny seedling I'd painted in bright green.

I stuck the last photo down.

“What do you think, Darwin?” I held the poster up so Darwin could see where I'd placed him, snug against a picture of me joking with Daz. “This is my true seventh-grade self.”

Darwin whistled. “Ana banana! Iguana banana!” He bebopped on his perch, sending a spray of sunflower seeds to the floor. A few bounced under my bed. I knelt down carefully, trying not to mess up my dress. I have to admit, having Sugar around to help me get ready for the dance was a major plus. She even did my hair in a classy updo that she said made me look fourteen! I think she was right because Dad looked like he was going to faint when he saw me all dressed up. Making sure my hair wouldn't catch on the bottom of my bed, I leaned over and grabbed the sunflower seeds. My last project, crumpled against some socks, peeked out at me. The dark, jagged lines and animal pictures were crumpled at the edges. Compared to the colorful collage I'd just finished, my old project looked pretty bad.

“Gross,” I said, pulling it out.

“Blech! Ew!” Darwin chimed in. I couldn't help but agree. I started to throw it away, but something stopped me. A stomach-swirly-niggly feeling. I mean, the project
was
supposed to be about our seventh-grade true self. But what if your true self was more than one thing?

I laid the two projects side by side. Black and white against colorful and bright. I knew what I had to do.

Grabbing a piece of paper, I scribbled a note.

Dear Ms. Fenton,

I know you said we were supposed to show you our seventh-grade true selves with this project. But I have a feeling my true self is a lot of things. I WANT to be like the second collage. I feel bright and happy when I'm teaching people about animals. But sometimes it's hard to be your true self. And sometimes, I think our true self hides behind other things and comes out a little messed up, like the first collage I gave you. I've thought about it, and I think the “true” self is whatever one I choose to be. So I wanted you to have both projects. Together, I think they sum up my seventh-grade true self. Thanks for being a great teacher and giving me a chance to get this to you. Oh, and if you still want to display it for the students next year, I'm okay with that. 

Love, Ana

I stacked the posters together. Sticking the note to the side with a paperclip, I smoothed on some chocolate lip gloss and checked myself in the mirror one last time.

Hair? Perfect.

Dress? Not too short, with just the right amount of swooshy-ness at the bottom when I spun around.

Shoes? Teensy tiny heels that I could actually
walk
in, with two butterflies studded to the strap. I grinned at the thought of taking a little animal reminder with me to the dance.

“Bye, Darwin!” I giggled. “Wish me luck!”

“Ana banana!” He chirped as I tucked my project under my arm and bounded down the stairs.

Outside, I had to dodge the nosy pelicans. The smell of hippos was still strong in the hot summer air as I hopped into the truck where Mom, Bella, Daz, and Kevin were waiting. Teeny red flowers that matched her dress studded Bella's hair, and Kevin looked completely adorkable in his suit. Daz was even wearing a tie. Okay, so it had cartoon snakes on it, but it was totally him.

“Ready to go to your first dance?” Mom squeezed my arm as she drove past the lion exhibit.

“You bet,” I said.

And I was.

My summer stretched ahead of me like a blank, open notebook, and for the first time, I couldn't
wait
to fill it up.