My Miserable Life (14 page)

I am not stupid and ugly and bad at sports.

I am not stupid and ugly and bad at sports.

I am not stupid and ugly and bad at sports.

I am not stupid and ugly and bad at sports.

Okay, did I write it enough times?

Ben,

Please rewrite this. I'd like you to tell me the things you are, such as smart, handsome, and athletic, as well as a very kind person.
☺

Sincerely,

Ms. Washington

 

CHAPTER 16

BEN HUNTER IS THE CATERPILLAR'S SPATS

Today when I came to school, Ms. Washington announced, “We're going to do a special project. Every day, one of you will get up in front of the class, and the rest of us will take turns writing on the board one thing about you that we admire.” I slid down in my chair
. Awesome but embarrassment-inducing Ms. Washington
,
please don't call on me.

“Ben,” Ms. Washington said.

I didn't move.

“Ben, please come to the front of the class.”

I got up and walked slowly from my desk. I was pretty sure my face was red because of how hot it felt. The solar system planets hanging on strings from the ceiling spun around and made me dizzy.

“Ella Bean,” Ms. Washington said, “please begin.”

Ella Bean walked up, took some chalk, and wrote
BEN HUNTER IS WAY SMART
. Then she sat down. I cringed, waiting for laughter. But no one laughed.

Kennedee Jones wrote
BEN HUNTER IS A FAST RUNNER
.

Aurora Richards wrote
I LIKE BEN HUNTER
'
S EYES
.

Regina Mendez wrote
BEN HUNTER IS CUTE
. What? I didn't know Regina Mendez thought that. It was nice, but I cringed again, and this time there were a few giggles. Then it was over and Ms. Washington called on Mercy Keating, who wrote
BEN HUNTER'S MOM HAS AN INTERESTING JOB
.

Joe Knapp wrote
BEN HUNTER IS MY FRIEND IN THIS CLASS, AND HE IS THE MAN
.

Leif Zuniga wrote
BEN HUNTER IS A GOOD ATHLETE
.

Rocko Hoggen wrote
BEN HUNTER IS A TEACHABLE SPELLER WHEN HE IS NOT INTIMADATED
.

This time everyone laughed, but I think they were laughing at Rocko's spelling.

The last person Ms. Washington called on was Serena Perl. She came up to the front of the class, turned, looked straight at me as if she was thinking about something, smiled, turned back, and wrote
BEN HUNTER IS AWESOME
.
OH, AND I THINK HE LIKES DOGS
! Then she sat down.

“Thank you, class,” Ms. Washington said. “Everyone will get a turn. And a special thanks to the parent who helped come up with this exercise. She didn't want her identity to be revealed, but maybe you can guess.” She looked at me and winked.

Just then, my mom walked into the classroom.

“Oh, hi, Ms. Hunter,” Ms. Washington said.

“I just wanted to stop by and see if I could help with anything. I brought some supplies from the Lurning Bush.” She held up a bag of fuzzy pencils and those Japanese erasers in the shapes of cars, food, and little animals. The kids in my class love those erasers, especially the girls. I wasn't thrilled about the cute animal ones, but no one seemed to think they were a problem. The girls were really excited, squirming in their seats like they had to pee.

“Oh, thank you,” said Ms. Washington, looking kind of surprised and confused. “I didn't expect you.”

“I also brought some cupcakes,” my mom said. “They're made with real sugar and butter and white flour.” She smiled at me and held up a large pink cake box. I guess most bakeries insist on pink cake boxes. No one seemed to mind this either.

“Would you like to help pass out the erasers and cupcakes?” Ms. Washington asked me.

“Sure,” I said.

“Thank you, Ben. You are the caterpillar's spats.” She went over to the board and wrote
BEN HUNTER IS THE CATERPILLAR'S SPATS
. I'm not sure what that means, but I think she meant it as a good thing. “Would you like to ask two friends to help you?”

“Joe Knapp and Serena Perl,” I said. Mercy Keating was staring at my mom like she was the Japanese eraser Mercy wanted the most. Or one shaped like a book if that was an option.

While we were eating the cupcakes, my mom went over to the board and wrote
I LOVE BEN HUNTER SO MUCH THAT IF THERE WAS A LOVE METER, IT WOULD REGISTER SO HIGH IT WOULD EXPLODE
.

Everyone laughed. Great. Thanks, Mom. But the cupcakes were good, and Serena Perl liked her Japanese eraser. It was shaped like a puppy. She said she would never actually erase anything with it so the puppy wouldn't get worn out.

*   *   *

When I got home that afternoon (which was not a Thursday), the girl Thursday was in my room on a stepladder, painting the walls white. The room smelled like paint fumes, and music was blasting.

“Hey,” Thursday said when she saw me.

“Hey,” I said.

Her hair was a little longer and dyed pink, and she had on a pair of light blue cutoffs and a lavender T-shirt. She wore less makeup, and I could see a few freckles on her nose. She actually looked kind of pretty. Her eyes were green, which I hadn't noticed before.

She stepped off the stepladder, put her hands on her hips, and looked at me.

“I'm sorry I painted your room black.”

I noticed that the black paint was still showing through the white paint.

“Black paint is hard to cover,” she said, reading my mind. “Just like the way we try to cover up the dark side of life. But you can't give up trying. Darkness is real, but so is light.”

Wow, she had really changed. Maybe it was because her hair was pink? She told me that her new look was “pastel goth.” So probably her hair was dyed pink because she was feeling better and not the other way around.

“No prob.” She went back to painting, and I took a brush and helped her, because in some ways, she was kind of cool.

My mom ordered pizza for dinner that night, and Thursday stayed and even helped Mom set the table. Tree came by with his salad. And just as we were about to sit down, there was a knock on the door. Grandma! She had brought homemade cookies and a large container of ice cream.

“Ben!” she said, hugging me. She smelled like honey graham crackers and vanilla and roses. “How is my adorable, wonderful young man? I love you so much. Oh, how I've missed you!”

She sat next to me, and we fed Monkeylad snacks under the table. But somehow, when we weren't looking, he must have escaped, because there was another knock on the door and the Grump was standing there with Monkeylad on a leash.

“He tried to eat my dinner again!” the Grump shouted. “But this time I caught the little monster!”

“Oh, I'm so sorry,” said my grandma. “Please forgive us. Maybe you could join us for dinner, Mr.… Oh, please remind me of your name. I find myself forgetting things lately.”

The Grump paused and frowned at her. Then he said, “Mr. Fishnik. Frank Fishnik.”

No wonder he'd never told us his name. But leave it to Grandma to get it out of him.

“Oh, please come in, Mr. Fishnik. I had a friend with that same last name from the Midwest. Are you from the Midwest?” She kept talking and talking, and pretty soon he was sitting at our table eating pizza with us. My grandmother is a miracle worker.

After dinner Grandma suggested we play charades. There was no way anyone else in the world could have gotten cooler-than-thou Angelina and even-cooler-than-that Thursday and the grumpy Grump to play. But Grandma did.

My mom got Get On to Hades, Angelina got the Darters, my grandma got
Incarnation
, Thursday got Hellwig Plum, Tree got the Dustin Peeper song “I Love You, Baby, You Pretty Little Girl,” and the Grump got Hey! Bunny Rabbit! You could see they were all struggling because they didn't know what they were acting out. Especially the Grump. I couldn't tell what charade he'd come up with. Maybe he was a closet Hellwig Plum fan. I got
How to Be a Hottie
, which I had seen once at my grandma's. I nailed it when I walked like the host, Tawny Money, and everyone laughed—even Thursday, who never laughs. But I didn't mind, because they were laughing with me, not at me, since I was laughing, too.

 

MAY

Dear Ms. Washington:

I am smart, handsome, athletic, and a good speller. I am smart, handsome, athletic, and a good speller. I am smart, handsome, athletic, and a good speller. I am smart, handsome, athletic, and a good speller. I am smart, handsome, athletic, and a good speller. I am smart, handsome, athletic, and a good speller. I am smart, handsome, athletic, and a good speller. I am smart, handsome, athletic, and a good speller. I am smart, handsome, athletic, and a good speller. I am smart, handsome, athletic, and a good speller. Oh, yeah, I am also kind and a good friend. I think Joe is getting awesome at handball. He just needs a little more confidence to realize that.