Odd Girl In (7 page)

“You'll be on
my
team then,” she said confidently. “You're a pretty good athlete … when you're not playing
badminton. And I
really
want that thousand dollars.”

“Okay,” I said with a shrug. “Sounds like a plan.”

“Great! It'll be you, me, and … hopefully
Trevor
.” She sighed and took on a wistful expression.

“Trevor?” My ears pricked up, but I tried to act nonchalant. “Who's Trevor?”

“Just this really cute guy in our class.” She pressed her hands to her heart and smiled blissfully. “I am sooo crushing on him.”

This had disaster written all over it.

“You know you shouldn't let feelings cloud your judgment,” I said.

Chloe's dreamy expression vanished. “Nice message. Is that from an
anti
-Valentine card?”

“Actually, my mom …” I paused, remembering what Ms. Dorf had said earlier. I shook her words out of my head. “Emotions are a distraction from reaching your goals.”

“But Trevor's such a cute distraction,” said Chloe with a sigh. Any second, little cartoon hearts would start bubbling up around her.

“That nice, huh?” I wondered how many other girls were in love with Trevor. “Guess I'll have to check him out.”

Instantly the little cartoon hearts around Chloe frosted over, along with her eyes. “I'd rather you didn't,” she said in a steely voice. “I know you're not super familiar with the girl
universe, but stealing another girl's crush is the worst thing you could
ever
do.”

“Whoa, wait!” I held up my hands in submission. “I didn't mean anything like that.”

“Oh.” Chloe must have realized how chainsaw-wielding psycho she sounded because she laughed with an apologetic shrug. “Sorry! I know you're not one of
those
girls. And, I mean, it's not like you could take him from me anyway.”

“Right,” I said, racking my brain for a change of subject. “So, Ms. Success told you about me and my brothers?”

Chloe relaxed a little more. “Yes, in
The Shout Out
. She sends it every Wednesday and Friday, although for you and your brothers, there was a special issue last night.”

“Wow. My dad always figured we'd be in the news someday,” I said. “He'll be glad to know the words ‘crime spree' weren't involved.”

Chloe grinned and tugged my arm. “Come on. You can help with one of the banners for Saturday's game.”

“I'm not really artistic,” I said.

“That's okay. The banners are just an excuse to go crazy with glitter glue and get out of homeroom.”She reached into a cardboard supply box and pulled out two shimmering tubes. “Pick your poison.”

But I wondered if teaming up with her for Champs meant I already had.

“You look like you went through my kind of day,” Nick said when I entered the living room that afternoon. His eyes were red, and he rubbed them tiredly.

“Actually, you look worse.” I sprawled on the floor next to his couch. “What happened?”

Nick sipped from a mug between his hands and winced. “I couldn't sleep last night and then I forced myself to stay awake all day in class so I could listen and take notes.”

“Awww, Nick!” I punched him playfully in the leg. “I'm so proud.”

My brother smirked and took another drink. “I didn't say I succeeded.”

“Oh.” I frowned. “What went wrong?”

“Well, it turns out my first period teacher has some sort of funny accent—”

“Where from?”

“Texas, I think. And then in second period, I couldn't see the notes on the board, so I started copying off the girl next to me. She thought I was watching her, we got to talking, and …” He sighed. “Now I have a date for Friday's game but no clue how mitosis works.” He lifted the mug to his lips, jammed his eyes shut, and drank again.

“What
is
that?” I reached up and tilted the cup toward me. When I peered inside I saw a pool of brown sludge.

“I made coffee,” said Nick.

“Are you sure?” I asked, watching the goop slosh from side to side. “It looks like you just … poured hot water over coffee grounds.”

“I did,” he said. “I made coffee before I realized I didn't know how.” He looked from his mug to me. “We're going to be shipped off to St. Ignatius. I'm too stupid for Champs.”

I thumped him hard on the arm. “No, you're not! Don't say that. Besides, if anyone's going to make us fail, it's me and my unsocial skills.”

Nick sucked in his breath. “Right. You had to do the club thing. How'd that go?”

“I went to the hockey boosters meeting and robotics club,” I said.

“Robotics?” asked Nick. “That's kind of cool.”

“You'd think so,” I said. “But no. It turns out
this
robotics club doesn't build robots —they talk like them.”

Nick snorted. “What?!”

“Yeah.” I pressed my lips together. “A group of really,
really
nerdy guys sit in a circle and speak ‘Robot' to one another.”

“As in ‘beep-beep-boop'?” asked Nick, grinning.

“Nope. They babble a long string of ones and zeros. It's called binary, but
I
call it a slow, painful death.”

Nick laughed. “Okay then, how was hockey boosters?”

“Well, the girls think a Zamboni is a sports car, and they
haven't ever been to an
entire
game because their hot cocoa runs out after the first period.”

Nick made a face. “Sorry.”

“If Dad actually expects me to stick to these clubs, I'm in trouble,” I said.

“Maybe you could drop out after Champs is over,” he said.

“If I wait
that
long, it might be hazardous to the boosters' health,” I said. “But at least they're good at coming up with fund-raising ideas. I might borrow one or two for my Champs Championship entry fee.”

“That's a good idea,” said Nick. “I talked to my coach since he's big on supporting his students, and he said he'd think about ways I can help him out to raise my money, too.”

I smiled. “Maybe we could just sell Parker's hair and split the profit.”

“Who would buy it?” Nick snorted. “Halloween's still months away.”

We both laughed, and I looked around. “Speaking of Parker, where is he?” I asked.

“He's convinced that whatever physical activity Dad has planned will turn him into a hideous man-beast, so he's spending as much time with Ashley as possible.”

I lay back down. “At least he got
some
enjoyment out of the day.”

No sooner had I said the words than we heard the front door slam. Several times.

“Uh-oh,” said Nick.

“Hey, if a group of angry Parkers just came in, can one of them get me a soda?” I called.

“And teach me how to make coffee?” asked Nick.

Parker appeared in the doorway, red-faced and scowling. “Ashley and I broke up today. Ask me for a favor again. I dare you.” Then he threw down his backpack and stormed into the kitchen.

Nick and I got up and followed him.

“How did it happen?” asked Nick.

“I told her about Champs and how hard it was to keep up with the schedule
and
still have time for my hair. Then she said I spent too much time on my appearance.”

“What'd
you
say?” I prompted.

Parker's angry expression slipped away a little, and he blushed. “That maybe she didn't spend
enough
time on hers.”

Nick and I both winced.

“Ouch,” said Nick. “So she broke up with you because you insulted her?”

“Well, that and because I got upset about her comment.” He reached into the refrigerator and grabbed a soda. “She said I wasn't seeing the big picture.”

“How could you with all that hair?” I asked.

Parker downed half the soda in one swallow. “I'm gonna need a couple of these bad boys to dull the pain.”

Nick yawned and slapped Parker on the shoulder. “Drink them while you get ready. Dad'll be home soon to take us to Champs.”

“I'm ready now,” said Parker.

“No, Dad wants us to change into our special T-shirts,” said Nick. “He says all the students are wearing theirs for our welcome.”

“Fantastic,” said Parker, slamming the soda can on the counter. “I'm single and my Champs wardrobe guarantees I'll stay that way.”

The three of us tossed our dignity aside and changed into the blue cotton T-shirts with freakish stars on them. When Dad came home, he took one look at us and said, “I know things seem tough, but as the old saying goes, ‘It's always darkest before the dawn.'”

Nick groaned and buried his head in his hands. “It's going to get even worse
tonight
?”

Dad cleared his throat. “I actually meant things will get better.”

“Easy for you to say!” I exclaimed. “You're not trying to convince a group of girls that hockey sticks don't work like microphones!”

“And you don't know how hard it is to stay awake when
they're serving turkey sandwiches and warm milk for lunch in the cafeteria!” said Nick.

“And my girlfriend broke up with me!” blurted Parker.

Dad just stood there, looking sheepish. “See? What could be even worse than all of those things?”

“Going to Champs,” I said.

But Dad still made us get in the car.

At least he knew better than to say “have fun” when he dropped us off in front of the building. My brothers and I looked at one another, gave a collective sigh, and forged ahead into the ivory tower.

Ms. Success was standing just inside the door, talking into a headset. When she saw us, she smiled and indicated that we should follow her.

“Well, that's fantastic, Jimbo!” she boomed into the mouthpiece. “Tell DreamWorks we can do lunch, but only at the Four Seasons. I'm not suffering through another rank cheese platter like I did with Nickelodeon.”

I wondered at first if there was even anyone on the other end of the line, but then I distinctly heard a male voice squawking from the headset.

“Is she really talking to a studio exec?” asked Nick.

“It's probably her confused gardener,” I whispered back. “All he did was call to ask about the roses, and now he's trapped in her world of make-believe.”

Nick and Parker both snickered, but the three of us sobered quickly when Ms. Success stopped and turned to face us. We were standing outside a door with “Champs!” written across it, not with construction paper, but with
brass
lettering.

Ms. Success laughed into the mouthpiece and winked at us. “All right then, Jimmer-Jam. I'll talk to you later. I've got some minds to blow.” She pulled off the headset and gave us all a quick once-over.

“Evins kids! You look fantastic. Blue's a power color on you.”

“Uh, we
feel
powerful,” said Nick with a big smile.

She pointed at him. “I'll bet you do, even with all that dirt in your teeth.”

“Dirt?” Nick ran his tongue around his mouth and groaned, ducking away to the water fountain.

Ms. Success sidled closer to me. “Your brother doesn't eat cement too, does he?” she asked in a low voice. “Because I know a guy with the circus—”

“Nick wasn't eating dirt,” I said, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. “He was drinking coffee grounds.”

“No filters at home, huh?” She nodded down the hall. “Go ahead and nab a few from the break room. I won't say a word.”

“Oh, no thanks,” I said.

“Alexis.” Ms. Success put a hand on my shoulder. “If you want to survive in the business world, you've got to accept perks as they come to you. Knowing me,” she said with a wink, “is a perk.”

I bit my tongue and summoned a smile. “Gosh, I don't know what to say. I mean, free coffee filters….”

Ms. Success waved away the thanks I hadn't planned to give. “Grab yourself a couple bags of microwave popcorn while you're at it.”

“We're okay,” I said. “Really.”

She patted me on the head. “All right, kiddo. Then are you ready to mix it up with your fellow Champs?” She shimmied from side to side.

“Not if we have to dance like that,” said Parker.

Ms. Success turned toward him wearing a frown, and I stepped in front of my brother.

“Sorry. His girlfriend just broke up with him.”

“Oh, ouch!” Ms. Success squeezed his shoulder and clucked her tongue sympathetically. “That's tough, but there are plenty of other fish in the sea. Who knows? You might even land a ten-pounder in
there
!” She grinned and gestured toward the classroom.

“I don't even know what that means,” said Parker. “What girl weighs ten pounds?”