Too Good to Be True (2 page)

We went on a bike ride and then for ice cream, and when we got back to Billy's house,
he gave me the giant-sized Hershey's kiss his parents brought him back from their trip to New York this summer. “All my kisses are for you, April Sinclair,” he said. Then he kissed me and laughed.

It made me laugh too. I knew he was just joking around, but it was sweet. “You're so weird,” I said.

Billy poked me in the ribs, which tickled. “Weird in a good way, I hope.”

I nodded, smiling. Then Billy said he had another present for me. He gave me a stuffed bear with a big yellow bow around its neck. “We're going to call him Rat,” Billy said.

“What kind of name is that for a bear?” I asked.

“It's a perfect name for this bear because it looks more like a rat than a bear. And the other name I thought of, Mr. Snuggles, didn't suit him at all.”

I looked at the bear and saw exactly what he meant. “Why would you give me a bear that looks like a rat?” I asked Billy.

“Any guy could give you a bear that looks like
a bear, but where would you ever find another boyfriend that would give you a bear that looks like a rat?”

It made perfect sense, and at that moment, sitting on Billy's bed, I knew I loved Rat and I knew I loved having a boyfriend who doesn't do what most people do.

My grandmother called an emergency family meeting this afternoon. Everyone in my family dropped whatever it was they were doing and rushed to her house, where she announced that her bridge group had decided it was time to do something different, so they started the Happiness Movement. “We're on a crusade to help people find their inner peace,” Gaga said.

I didn't see how Gaga and her lady friends could suddenly become poster children for happiness, and I don't think anyone else did either. “It sounds like a weird cult,” said my cousin Harry, who's in tenth grade and is probably a two out of ten on the happiness scale.

“I think she's starting to lose it,” mumbled my Uncle Dusty.

“Mom, do you need to go to a hospital?” asked my Aunt Lila, getting up to take a closer look at Gaga.

“Why do we all need to be here?” my Uncle Drew wanted to know. He stood up, ready to leave.

Gaga asked us all to sit and then started answering our questions. “I've never felt better,” she said. “And the last thing I need is a hospital. The reason I wanted all of my children and grandchildren here for this announcement is because what I'm about to say affects each one of you personally.”

I have two aunts, two uncles, four first cousins, and two sisters plus my own parents, and I could tell that not one of these people had any clue how Gaga's announcement affected them personally. But we didn't have to wait long to find out.

“My dear family, I've been playing the same card game with the same ladies for the last twenty-three years, and it took us all this time
to discover the meaning of life, which is that everyone should be happy.”

My Uncle Dusty looked at my Uncle Drew and rolled his eyes. I think they both feel like they took on a crazy lady in Gaga when they married my aunts, and to be fair, their views are somewhat warranted.

My cousin Harry raised his hand. “How can you just be happy?” he asked.

But Gaga had an explanation for that too. “Choose to be positive,” said Gaga. “Positive attitude plus positive action makes you part of the Happiness Movement.” Then she told us that out of the goodness of her heart and her inherent faith in each of us to lead our lives in a positive manner, she was going to go ahead and make everyone in our family members of the Happiness Movement.

Harry told Gaga he didn't want to be a member especially if there were any hidden membership fees or weird initiation rituals, but Gaga assured him there were no fees, only free T-shirts. With that, Gaga opened up a big box that was sitting on her dining room table
and started taking out bright yellow T-shirts with a big happy face on the front and lettering on the back that said, “Proud member of the Happiness Movement.”

She made us all put them on before we left, but no one was happy about it.

“I hate bright yellow,” said my cousin Amanda.

Uncle Drew shook his head like there was no way he was wearing that T-shirt.

Even my aunts and my mom, who always try to be patient with Gaga, weren't too happy about it. “Mom, don't you think this is a bit much?” Aunt Lilly asked.

But Gaga just said, “Part of being positive is ignoring the naysayers.” Then she announced that my cousins Charlotte and Izzy were to accompany her on Saturday to Winn-Dixie, where she and the other members of the Happiness Movement will be spreading their message of positivity.

As we left, Gaga asked each one of us to please say what we were happy about. I told her I'd have to get back to her on that one. I didn't
think she'd like hearing that what I was happy about was that I didn't have to go to Winn-Dixie with Charlotte and Izzy on Saturday.

I can't sleep. School starts in the morning, and even though my brain doesn't have to officially start thinking until 8:30
A.M
. tomorrow, it's working overtime right now. So many thoughts are flying through my head. Mostly, what this year will be like. I really want it to be good, but it's hard to imagine it will be when I think about how badly seventh grade ended.

It's like a loop that keeps playing in my head.

Billy kissed me. I told Brynn. She got mad, but she got over it. Billy found out I told Brynn, and
he
got mad. Then Matt Parker (who had just moved in next door) kissed me. To top things off, my parents made me stay home from camp and go on a family vacation, because they didn't like the way I was acting. Billy and Brynn went to camp without me, and I had no clue what they
were doing or saying or what things would be like when they got back. But then they came home, and everything with Brynn was cool, and Billy asked me to be his girlfriend. It was like I snapped my fingers and everything instantly changed from bad to good and it's been mostly that way ever since.

I think about what Gaga said about being part of the Happiness Movement. It sounds kind of stupid, but I've actually been happy for the past month, and it would be nice to stay that way. But how do you do that? Is there a way to make this a good year? If I have a positive attitude and act positively, will I just stay happy?

The good news is that I have things to be happy about, like a great boyfriend, a great best friend, and two boobs that are the same size. This wasn't always the case. About two weeks ago, I went to bed one night and it's like my left boob decided to catch up with my right one while I was sleeping.

I credit my sister June and Greek yogurt for this awesome change. June told me she read that Kim Kardashian eats Greek yogurt. Why
my seven-year-old sister was reading anything about Kim Kardashian, I don't know. But when June told me Kim eats yogurt, I did a very simple analysis.

Kim has a big butt (in a good way).

Kim eats yogurt.

I have no butt.

I eat no yogurt.

I want a butt like Kim's.

I need to eat yogurt.

It made perfect sense. So I started eating Greek yogurt every morning for breakfast. It didn't give me the butt I was hoping for, but my left boob caught up with my right one and the only thing that changed was what I was eating.

I should take this as a sign that my life has turned a corner and I'm entering the happy phase. Maybe there's an old me and a new me. The old me would have worried that writing that sort of thing would bring me bad luck. But the new me just needs to stay positive and believe that if I do, good things will happen. Why not? My boob grew! What are the odds of that? Maybe when someone goes through a phase like I did this
summer where everything went wrong, whoever it is that's dishing out the things-going-wrong stuff realizes you've had your share and it's time to move on to someone else.

Who knows? But that's my theory and I, April Elizabeth Sinclair, am sticking with it.

—Effie Trinket

Day one. Grade eight. I'm starting the year with a positive attitude and positive action. Last night, I cleaned off my desk, organized my backpack, laid out my clothes, and made plans for where to meet Billy and Brynn before school. I slept with my straightening iron in my bed so May couldn't find it, hide it, and get me in trouble for yelling at her for hiding my things. This morning, I woke up early; straightened my hair; ate oatmeal for breakfast; and after I had brushed my teeth, I looked in the mirror and said, “It's going to be a great day!” I probably sounded like an ad for Folgers coffee. But I don't care.

As long as it works.

Maybe there's something to be said for positivity. I tried being positive all day, and to be honest, I've had worse first days back to school. I'm sure I could find things to complain about, like having first-period PE, which meant that by the time I'd finished playing forty minutes of field hockey, there was absolutely no point in straightening my hair this morning.

Or having second-period science with Mrs. Thompson, whose classroom is an unair-conditioned trailer at the back of the campus. By the time I walked there and sat through another forty minutes, I not only had frizzy hair, but I also didn't smell my freshest.

I could complain about having to walk (0.3 miles according to my Trail Tracker app) from Mrs. Thompson's class to third-period assembly and getting even hotter than I already was, or about having fourth-period lunch, which started at 10:47 and which meant I was expected to eat meatloaf or chicken patties before I'd even finished digesting my oatmeal.

I could also complain that even though I had fourth-period lunch with Billy and Brynn, I had no classes with Billy and only study hall and fifth-period math with Brynn, which really didn't seem fair especially since Billy and Brynn had second, seventh, and eighth periods together, which means I could definitely complain about the fact that Faraway Middle School doesn't let students request who they want to be in class with.

But I'm going to resist the temptation to complain about any of those things (and some other things) since I'm the new, positive me. And in my positive view, today was pretty good. It wasn't like there was a whole string of good things that happened, but there was one thing that happened and if it works out the way I want it to, it would be great.

During assembly, a bunch of teachers were making announcements about clubs and activities. Ms. Baumann was there—the dance team coach from the high school—and she announced that she's opening up four spots for eighth-grade girls on the dance team. She said there are a lot
of juniors and seniors on the team, and she wants to “nurture young talent.” Tryouts are going to be next Thursday, and the girls who make it will go to the high school every day after school to practice with the team, and they'll perform with the team in competitions and in the fall dance show just before Thanksgiving. They'll even get to perform at homecoming!

When she finished talking, the gym got really noisy. It seemed like every single girl got excited about it. The Faraway High School dance team is amazing, and being part of homecoming and the fall dance show (which is a huge deal in town) would be so cool. Emily Pope, who has taken dance for years and was sitting two rows in front of me, started clapping and cheering like crazy. She'll definitely make the team.

Brynn, who was sitting next to me, reached over and squeezed my hand hard like she had breaking news. “We have to make it!” she whispered.

I squeezed back. We've always talked about how cool it would be to be on the dance team together. “We need to start practicing,” I said
to Brynn as we were leaving the assembly. She nodded like she agreed completely.

After the assembly, a bunch of girls were talking about trying out, and Brynn was quiet. I know Brynn better than anyone, and the only time she's quiet is when she's mad or scared. Today she didn't have anything to be mad about, which means she got scared about tryouts and making the team. She must really want it. I do too.

I know I'm supposed to be embracing the new me and staying positive, so I'll just say this: I'm excited about trying out for the dance team, but I'll be a lot more excited if I make it.

Mom just asked me if I'd walk Gilligan before dinner. The old me would have done it, but I would have groaned and rolled my eyes when Mom asked me to do it. The new me took the leash without complaint.

I'm back from my walk, and I have a
question: how am I supposed to stay positive when I'm doing something as uncomplicated as walking my dog and something happens that complicates it?

While I was walking Gilligan, I ran into Matt Parker, who was also walking his dog. This isn't the first time this has happened. It happens a lot and it's weird! I know if I talked to Brynn about it, she'd say, “It's not so weird. Matt's got a dog and a mom who probably makes him walk his dog before dinner just like your mom makes you walk your dog, and he lives next door to you.” But a) it feels weird to me, like Matt's watching out his window and when he sees me walking my dog, he walks his too, and b) I couldn't talk to Brynn about it anyway. Not after what happened this summer. Matt Parker is one topic that's off-limits with Brynn. Whatever. The problem is that I'm always a mental case around Matt. Like just now. He started walking beside me and telling me all this stuff about high school and how it's so much cooler than middle school.