The Big Blueberry Barf-Off! (8 page)

Ms. Monella let out a cry.

April-May June stepped in behind her. She gasped and clapped her hands to the sides of her face.

“Well, goodness gracious. This sure 'nuff looks like some kind of crazy party. What are y'all
doing
in here?” Ms. Monella demanded.

Her eyes wide, she gaped at Beast, facedown in the thick, purple pile of pie. She saw Wes heaving up some more blueberry barf onto the floor.

“Gross! What a disgusting mess!” April-May cried.

“Where are all the wonderful pies?” Ms. Monella
asked. “What have you done with the lovely blueberry pies?”

I gave her my cutest, most dimply smile. “Well…we had a little contest,” I said. “You know. A little birthday party to cheer up Chipmunk.”

“But where are all the pies?” Ms. Monella asked again. She raised a hand to her forehead. I guess she was feeling dizzy. “The pies, Bernie? Where are the pies?”

“Well…”

“Remember I told you those pies were for the school Bake Sale?” Ms. Monella said.

“We were going to sell the pies and give all the money to the homeless kids,” April-May said.

I swallowed hard. “The homeless kids?”

Ms. Monella's face turned angry. “Who is responsible for this?” she asked. “Ah'm afraid he'll have
to come with me to the Headmaster's office.”

“It was all Bernie's idea,” Sherman said. “I tried to talk him out of it. I told him he was breaking all the rules. I begged him. But Bernie wouldn't listen to me.”

Uh-oh. A bad moment for Bernie.

Think fast, Big B.
Think fast
.

“Wait,” I said. “I have something for the homeless kids. This is
better
than a bake sale.”

I pulled off the watch and held it up. “This watch is worth five hundred dollars. I'm donating it to the homeless kids.”

My hand shook as I
handed it to Ms. Monella. I watched the gold disappear as she wrapped her hand around it.

Gone…gone forever.

“Why, thank you, Bernie,” she said. “That's so wonderful and generous of you. Now start cleaning up this classroom before I pound your butt.”

We found mops and buckets in the supply closet and started to wash up the piles and puddles of blueberry gunk. Dazed, I swished the mop back and forth. But I didn't see the floor. All I saw was that watch.

I had it in my hands…
in my hands
—for less than a minute. Tragic. Tragic.

I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to see Belzer behind me. He had a worried look on his face.

“Bernie, you're standing in the bucket,” he said.

I glanced down and saw my shoe in the bucket.
My pants leg was covered in purple goo. I felt too bad to move it.

Feenman and Crench came over. Feenman slapped me on the back. “Cheer up, Big B,” he said,
grinning. “We won the pie-eating contest!”

“Yeah. We beat those Nyce House bums!” Crench said.

I looked at my three buddies one by one. Did any guy ever have better friends in the world?

“You're right!” I said, stepping out of the bucket. “We won! We won the contest! Rotten House RULES! Nyce House lost—big-time!”

We all cheered and pumped our fists in the air and slapped one another a lot of high-fives and did the secret Rotten House handshake.

“Shut up and mop,” Ms. Monella said.

The next night, I wandered to the Student Center, thinking hard. I needed a plan, a new scheme to take my mind off that watch.

I was thinking so hard, I didn't even see April-May come up to me. She grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me to get my attention.

She smiled at me. “Bernie, when you gave that watch away last night, that was the most
generous
thing I ever saw in my whole life,” she said. “Maybe you're
not
a totally scheming, selfish, egomaniac creep, after all!”

A compliment!

Do you believe it? A
compliment
from April-May!

“The dance lessons are just starting,” April-May said. She took my hand and started to pull me down the hall. “Come on. Let's take them together.”

Yesssss!

Victory! Victory!

Who needs a stupid watch? Bernie is
king
again!

We walked about four steps when I heard a shout behind me. Then I heard the thunder of running footsteps.

I cried out as strong arms wrapped around me and someone tackled me hard from behind.

“Ooof!” I fell flat on the floor on my stomach. I whipped around—and stared up at Jennifer Ecch.

“There you are, Sweet Cakes!” she gushed. “Time for our dance lessons. You promised, remember? Let's go.”

She swung me over her shoulder and carried me down the hall, screaming, “You're MINE! All MINE!”

April-May stood frozen in the hall with her mouth hanging open. “Bernie—?” she called.

Bouncing on Jennifer Ecch's big shoulder, I sadly watched April-May fade into the distance. “April-May!” I shouted. “I have one question I have to ask you!”

“A question? What is it?” she shouted back.

“Would you like to buy a T-shirt?”