Sample Chapter
“Guess what, girls?” a voice said breathlessly in my ear.
I looked up at Dianna. I absolutely hate when anyone says “guess what?” If I could “guess what,” I wouldn’t have to waste my time in school, or struggle with my homework. I could skip college and appear on T.V. Game Shows, where I would know all the right answers to the questions, and win lots of money and trips around the world. I just love those Game Shows.
But, even though I know a lot, I don’t know everything. So I’m still here, second row center, in Miss Spencer’s fifth grade class - ugh! It’s even worse than fourth grade and I thought that was the pits!
“Guess what?” repeated Dianna. That girl couldn’t sense a mood if she fell over it!
I looked at my watch. We had about five minutes to go before school started and it would be nice to have something new to talk about. That is, if Dianna had anything new to tell us. She’s a great gossip, but sometimes the news reaches us before she does. Of course, we have to pretend that she’s the first one to tell us because, if we don’t, she’ll sulk. Dianna can sulk for a long time if she wants to!
I looked at her again. “You’ll never guess,” she cried, hopping from one foot to the other. Her hair flew up and down in a cloud of crazy curls. She was dying to give us the news, but if I started to look too interested, she’d want me to coax it out of her and I didn’t feel like it.
I yawned and stretched. “O.K. Spit it out Di. But I bet I know it already.”
“Oh, no you don’t,” she preened. But she couldn’t keep it a secret any longer. “Miss Spencer and Mr. Burton are going out together!” She smirked.
Well, that certainly was a surprise! Who would want to go out with Miss Spencer with her squeaky voice and her skinny legs?
I must say, I was disappointed in Mr. Burton. He was our P.E. teacher and most of the girls had a crush on him. He could probably have his pick of dates, more or less, so why go with Miss Spencer? She had an irritating habit of flicking her long, blond hair off her shoulders whenever she was talking to you, and she always fixed you with a stare from her large, blue eyes when you were close to her. Did men like that kind of thing?
We didn’t have much time to discuss anymore as the bell rang and we had to go to our classrooms. It would have to wait until recess. What a long morning this was going to be! Still, I could spend some time staring at Miss Spencer and trying to find something about her that would explain what I’d just heard. Hard to believe!
Before I go any further, I should introduce myself. My name is Mercy Meadows. I know it sounds horrible and I hate it. But my mother has a thing about matching letters. We all have names beginning with ‘M’ but mine is the worst. I have a mom and a dad and two dogs, who are called Max and Mimi. Oh, yes, I also have an older sister but I try to forget her when I can. She’s called Mona and is a senior in High School. She thinks she’s just the tops and I am lower than the bottom. Come to think of it, the boys are starting to hang around her, so maybe men just don’t have much sense. I’ll have to think about that.
I go to Merrywood School, (yes, I know another ‘M’) and, as I have already told you, I’m in Miss Spencer’s fifth grade Class. Luckily, my closest buddies, Dianna Wilson, Leslie Green and Heather Ames, are also in my classroom, so that helps a bit. We’ve known each other since kindergarten and do everything together. We even spy on my sister together, which makes her so mad.
Anyway, back to the classroom and Miss Spencer’s boring voice. I really stared at her this morning, and she even smiled at me. She probably thought I was concentrating on what she was saying. That would make her excited! Every Parent-Teacher interview she complains that I never pay any attention in class. My Mom always points out that I’m the same at home, so maybe it’s my age.
That is such a good excuse for everything! “I can’t help it, it’s my age,” I say to my sister, as she yells at me to stay out of her makeup, her room, her life, etc. One day she’ll want my company and she won’t get it! I keep telling her that but she swears it will never happen.
The more I watched Miss Spencer, the more puzzled I got. Did men really like women that looked and moved like Barbie dolls? I could climb trees, make a neat spit ball, and do most things on a skateboard. In fact, with my short, curly, red hair, (which I hate) and my long, skinny body, a lot of people think I’m a boy at first, including some boys!
Some of the girls in my class are already changing and are constantly sticking their chests out and inviting you to see how much they’ve grown! I don’t have a chest to stick out yet, but so what? I’m great fun to be with and am as tough as the boys. Still, I’m beginning to notice that girls who can make spit balls don’t get as many dates as the Barbies. Life really isn’t fair!
Miss Spencer finished the lesson before I had figured out the problem. I hoped there wasn’t going to be any homework, as I didn’t have any idea of what she’d been talking about. I’d spent my time staring at those big, blue eyes, trying to find something about them that didn’t remind me of a fish. No luck!
Just then, the door opened and in came Mr. Burton. The four of us stopped leaving the room and looked at each other. Then we all watched the action by the teacher’s desk. Miss Spencer’s eyes had gone into overdrive. They seemed to be getting bigger and bigger, and Mr. Burton stared at them and shuffled his feet.
For a teacher, he’s a good looking guy. In fact, he’s the best looking teacher in the school. Mind you, this isn’t too difficult, given the bunch we have to work with. He has dark hair and eyes and a very brown body. Much too yummy for Miss Spencer.
Miss Spencer suddenly noticed that my group hadn’t led the rush for recess, as we usually did. “Girls, get moving please,” she called. Boy, she really must be serious about Mr. Burton. That was the first ‘Oh Please’ she had ever thrown in my direction.
Mr. Burton hadn’t even noticed he had an audience, and he blushed and moved away from the door so we could leave quickly. What a bummer! Miss Spencer spends her life threatening to keep me in at recess, and now she’s throwing me out. If this is love, it’s sure strange.
We tried to hang around in the hallway and listen, but we gave it up because we couldn’t hear a thing. Miss Spencer mustn’t squeak at M. Burton like she does at us.
We left the building, looking for a quiet place to sit down and talk. As usual, the line-up for tetherball was very long, but today we avoided the crowd and gathered under the big tree near the bicycle stands. I’ve never understood people playing tetherball anyway. The way that chain whips the ball around the pole is scary. But it’s very popular.
“Is this some news, or what?” said Heather, with glee, hugging herself, as we sat down. “Just imagine anyone wanting to spend time with Miss Spencer when they don’t have to.”
“Maybe they’re not going out together,” said Leslie. “Maybe Mr. Burton just came into class to borrow a pen or something.”
“Not a chance,” crowed Dianna. “Marie Jenkins’ cousin saw them in the supermarket together at the weekend and they were smiling at each other over the strawberries. She followed them out afterwards and they got into the same car. So there!”
Well, there was no arguing with that fact. They could bump into each other in the supermarket but then they would go home in separate cars. If Marie’s cousin had seen them getting into the same car, then they must have been shopping together. This was very interesting.
I personally thought Miss Spencer had been given up by men. She wasn’t an exciting person at all and I couldn’t imagine her doing anything outside school, at least not until now. But Mr. Burton should have better taste. He seemed very normal, but you could never tell.
Heather thought that Mr. Burton was maybe mentally ill or something and that could explain it. She had seen a program on T.V. about people who couldn’t stop themselves from doing things, and she thought Mr. Burton could have that disease.
Lucky Heather gets to watch all kinds of programs that I have to miss because my parents think I’m too young. Or Mona wants to watch another channel and always gets her own way because she’s older.
The rest of us didn’t think Mr. Burton was sick. He was just acting sick.
Obviously, the thing to do was to find out if they really were dating and if it was serious. What we needed was a plan of action, and I’m usually very good at those.
“Leave it to me, girls,” I said, confidently, as the bell went for the end of recess, “I’ll think of something before the end of the day.”
With that, we all trooped back into our classrooms, except for the last boy playing tetherball who was taken into the office, dripping blood. Another trip to the Emergency Department coming up. Tetherball will do it to you every time!
I still didn’t have a good idea by lunch time, and I didn’t get a chance to think properly over lunch, because Mona was home. She was bossing me around and talking about her latest boyfriend, as usual. Probably a dork, like the rest of them.
I bolted my sandwiches down, and rushed off to meet Leslie and Heather, and walk to school with them; but we couldn’t come up with anything. I wasn’t too worried because we had geography in the afternoon, and I always get my best ideas when I’m snoozing to the sound of Mr. Green’s voice describing some hilly mountain, or something. He should bottle that voice and sell it to people who can’t sleep. He’d make a fortune!