Because of Mr. Terupt Page 3

  I still didn’t like the idea of hurting my plant, but I liked the idea of getting the control. I think he saw my hesitation.

  “Plus, since you’re working with Danielle, I have a feeling that your plant is actually going to be just fine.”

  I don’t know Danielle that well. She’s never been in my class before. She seems nice. I like her. Sometimes she’s friends with Alexia. I don’t know why. I’m glad I’m partners with Danielle and not Alexia. I’ve never been in Alexia’s class, but I can tell she’s mean. All the girls listen to her, though. Katie, Emily, Heather, Natalie—all of them. Not me. I stay away from her.

  My mom has warned me not to get involved in that popularity stuff. She was ostracized once. That means nobody wanted to be friends with her. My mom told me it was like there was a big group of people holding hands in a circle, and she was never let in. She always had to stand outside the circle. Mom doesn’t ever want that to happen to me. It was when she was sixteen and pregnant with me. I can tell that she still hurts inside from all of it. Even her own parents shunned her. That’s why she quit school shortly after I was born, and moved out. She tried to move in with my dad (I’ve never met him), but that didn’t work out—he left. Mom says we can talk about my dad and the whole situation when I’m older. All I know is that she says he’s a nice man. My grandma and grandpa (I’ve never met them, either) still don’t want anything to do with us. They moved far away after my mom moved out. My mom might be young, but she’s still a great mom. She’s my best friend, and I love her. If you love someone, you don’t quit on them just because they make a mistake.

  Mr. Terupt helped me stand up. “Trust me on this one,” he said. “Be positive.”

  We headed back into the classroom. My plant went into the box and came out a few days later, a little yellow and without a lot of new growth. But it was alive! Turning it on its side wasn’t harmful, so I was okay with that test, and then it was our chance to feed it whatever we wanted.

  Mr. Terupt was right. Danielle knew what she was doing. “Here’s a list of things we could mix together,” Danielle said.

  I read the list. I didn’t know everything on it. How did she?

  “My grandmother helped me with it,” she said. “She’s always been good at growing things. She’s the reason we have successful crops on the farm.”

  Both of us brought in some of the ingredients. We mixed them together and fed our plant. Ours was the only one to survive! It turned really green, and grew and grew and grew.

  I took the control home, but Danielle and I decided to leave our plant in school. We kept feeding it and everyone watched it grow. It grew almost to the ceiling, wrapping itself around the cord to the blinds, all the way up. Then one day it was knocked over. Somehow our super-duper plant fell off the windowsill. Nobody knows how it happened. I have a pretty good idea, though. I bet Alexia did it, because it happened when she was being nasty to Danielle. I’m thankful that Mr. Terupt let me take the control home. I didn’t want her to hurt that one, too.

  I liked being Danielle’s partner. I wonder now if Mr. Terupt knew what he was starting between me and Danielle. I wonder.

  Jessica

  Act 2, Scene 1

  My daily routine included lunch with Alexia and the girls, minus Danielle and Anna—they sat alone—and then recess. Alexia found it funny to see how upset Danielle would get.

  Right about this same time, I was finishing the book Belle Teal. I loved Belle. I wanted her to be my friend. She was honest and courageous. What would Belle do in my shoes? That was easy. She would do the right thing. And doing the right thing meant giving someone a chance. Danielle didn’t seem anything like Alexia made her out to be. I decided it was time to talk to Danielle and find out for myself.

  Act 2, Scene 2

  I set out to find Danielle the next day at recess. I spotted her from a distance. She was drawing in the dirt with a stick.

  “Hi, Danielle,” I said as I approached, clutching my latest book, Where the Red Fern Grows, close to me.

  “What do you want?” she shot back, jabbing her stick too hard into the ground, causing it to snap in half. She turned away. It sounded like she was crying.

  “Are you okay?” I walked closer.

  “No. Lexie’s being really mean to me, and it’s all your fault!” She threw her sticks onto the ground.

  My fault? She blamed me? Why didn’t I see it coming? It made perfect sense: I was the new girl, and my arrival pushed her out of the group.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. I stood there. I wanted to be back in California, anyway. I missed my dad.

  Danielle began scratching pictures in the dirt with her finger. “I’m sorry I said that. It’s not your fault.”

  I sat down.

  “It’s just that Lexie’s ignoring me—talking about me, saying mean stuff,” Danielle went on. “She doesn’t sit with me at lunch. She’s not playing with me. And now all the other girls are doing the same thing. They always do what Alexia says. Anna’s the only one who’s still nice, and I’m not supposed to be friends with her.”

  “Why not?” I asked.

  “My family, especially my grandma, think she’s a bad influence.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “My mom and dad used to be friends with her grandparents and—”

  “You mean her parents,” I interrupted.

  “No, her grandparents.” Danielle stopped moving the dirt and sat up to explain. “My mom and dad are forty-seven. They had my older brother, Charlie, when they were twenty—the same time Anna’s grandparents had Anna’s mother. They were all friends at church, that’s how they knew each other. Charlie is twenty-seven, so Anna’s mom must be twenty-seven, too.”

  “And Anna’s eleven,” I said, quickly putting all the pieces together. “So that means her mom was sixteen when Anna was born.”

  “That’s right,” Danielle said.

  “And that’s why your family, especially your grandmother, thinks Anna will be a bad influence?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Danielle said. “I think they figure Anna will be like her mother, and that’s not the type of people churchgoers should associate with.”

  I didn’t like what I was hearing. None of it seemed fair to Anna, but I wanted to learn more about her mother’s story. “What happened after Anna was born?”

  “I’m not sure,” Danielle said. “I just know that it’s only Anna and her mother now.”

  “None of that’s her fault,” I said matter-of-factly.

  Danielle nodded. She bent forward and started drawing in the dirt again. I decided not to push it any more. She seemed upset by it, too.

  “I’ll play with you,” I said.

  “You will?” The hint of a smile spread its way across Danielle’s dirt-streaked, teary face.

  “Sure. And I won’t listen to Alexia.” I slid Where the Red Fern Grows off to the side and dug into the earth with my finger.

  “I know that book. My grandma read it to me.”

  “It’s very good,” I said. “Everybody always likes a character with a dog. That’s something my dad told me.”

  “It’s a sad story,” Danielle said, “but I won’t tell you what happens.”

  “Please don’t. We can talk about it when I get done, though.”

  “Sure,” she said, shrugging her shoulders.

  We sat next to each other scratching pictures in the dirt until the whistle sounded. Recess was over. We stood and brushed ourselves off. That was when I saw Danielle’s dirt sketch of two dogs.

  “That’s a great picture, Danielle.”

  “Thanks,” she said.

  I liked Danielle. There were a lot of interesting things to learn about her, I could tell. I grabbed my book and we headed toward the building. Then I saw Anna wandering over by herself. I wondered if she wanted to be a loner. Or did she want friends? Why did she try so hard to be invisible? Was she embarrassed by her family situation? And how many people actually knew all that stuff about her
mother?

  Act 2, Scene 3

  I was walking with Danielle when all of a sudden she rushed ahead and hurried inside. Looking up, I found out why. Alexia got right in my face.

  “Like, whadaya doing? I thought I told you not to be friends with her.” Alexia’s head jerked from side to side as she talked. It reminded me of a bobblehead. She blocked my way, her hands on her cheetah-patterned hips.

  “There’s nothing wrong with Danielle. Besides, I can play with whomever I want,” I said.

  “Fine. Then like, you’re not my friend anymore,” Alexia said. She knocked Where the Red Fern Grows out of my hands. Then she whipped around and stomped inside.

  I wasn’t upset—but I’m not stupid, either. I knew Alexia was going to make my life miserable. That was her game. And she was good at it, too. Still, I had no clue how bad things would really get.

  Alexia

  I saw Jessica talking to Danielle. I saw them playing. That double-crossing, no-good Miss Perfect from California. She was gonna get it.

  I went right up to her after recess and smacked her stupid book out of her hands. Who did she think she was, messing things up? I couldn’t let her stand up to me and get away with it. Then somebody else might think they could do that, too. I wasn’t about to let that happen. Nobody messes with Alexia.

  Then I had to deal with Danielle. I caught up to her inside and followed her into the bathroom. I was like, “Whadaya doing?”

  She backed up to the stall. “Nothing. What’s wrong?”

  I was like, “You’re crazy to be friends with the new girl. I told you she’s been saying nasty stuff about you. How you smell like the farm. And just now she said, ‘Who’s bigger, Danielle or the cows?’ ”

  Now Danielle was crying. Score! I hugged her. I was like, “We’ve been friends a long time, Danielle. Since second grade. We don’t need her.” She was still crying. I hugged her again. I was thinking, This will teach you to mess with me, Miss Perfect.

  I let go of Danielle and walked over and stood in front of the mirror. I fixed the scrunchie in my hair and readjusted my scarf. I reapplied some Princess Pink lip gloss.

  I was like, “Don’t you worry, Danielle. We’ll get her.”

  Danielle

  I ended up talking and playing with Jessica at recess. My troubles with Lexie weren’t her fault. I told Jessica about Anna. Jessica thought Anna seemed nice, which was true. Anna was my science partner for the plant unit, and I liked working with her.

  “You stay away from that girl, you hear me?” Grandma said when I first mentioned Anna at home.

  “Your grandmother’s right, Danielle. That girl comes from a bad family,” Mom said. “She’ll be a bad influence.”

  I wanted to know why, so Grandma filled me in on Anna’s family story. I just listened, but I couldn’t help thinking about the Anna I knew. She didn’t seem bad at all. In fact, I already liked her. I wanted her to be my friend.

  I figured that as long as I wasn’t going over to her house, I could be friends with Anna in school.

  Before long it was time to head inside. I walked alongside Jessica until I saw Lexie marching toward us. She had a mean scowl on her face. She looked mad. Real mad—like a mama cow determined to keep you away from her new calf. I rushed ahead. I didn’t want to fight. I felt bad for leaving Jessica behind, but I wanted to avoid Lexie. I hurried inside and hid in the bathroom, but Lexie found me.

  The bathroom door flew open and she got right in my face. She told me all the mean things Jessica was saying about me.

  “Like, you can even ask Katie or Emily. They’ll tell ya. Little Miss California’s a two-face. Nice to your face and mean behind it. You need to stay away from her.”

  I started crying. Why would Jessica say those mean things? Lexie hugged me for a second, but it didn’t make me feel any better. Then she walked toward the sinks. She stood in front of the mirror fixing herself. I sat in one of the stalls, wiping my tears. “Like, ya know what else?” Lexie said. “Jessica’s the one who killed your plant. Like, she knocked it over on purpose. She told me.”

  I’ve known Lexie since second grade, when she was all nice. She even came over to my house once that spring, but her feather boas weren’t a good match for my farm, so she hasn’t ever been back. And then in third grade, she started with her mean games, so I’ve never been to her house. We’re friends in school, when Lexie says so, and that’s it. Grandma says something’s going on with Lexie that we don’t know about, and that it’s best not to worry about being her friend.

  But I did worry. What was the truth? Was there anyone I could be friends with?

  Dear God,

  It’s Danielle. I’m going to need your help sorting all this girl stuff out. I hope you don’t mind. I’d rather not get Grandma involved. She doesn’t always understand. Thanks. Amen.

  november

  LUKE

  It was November. Apparently that meant time for Mr. Terupt to get crazy with his math ideas again. I think he was on a mission to put us through his math gauntlet (dollar word). “We’re going to figure out the number of blades of grass in the soccer field,” he announced one day.

  “What! You’re gonna make us count grass?” Peter yelled. “That’s nuts!”

  “No way!” Nick was hollering (dollar word).

  “How are we supposed to do that?” Tommy said.

  I raised my hand.

  “Yes, Luke.”

  “You mean we’re going to estimate the total number, right?” I said.

  “Yes and no,” Mr. Terupt said. “We’ll actually do some calculating to get a reasonable approximation.”

  I was beginning to think that Peter might be right.

  “Yes, it’s going to be difficult, but I know we can do it,” Mr. Terupt said. “Besides, if everything we did were easy, then you wouldn’t learn anything. We need to be challenged in order to learn.”

  Mr. Terupt was right about it being a challenge. None of us had any idea how we were going to count blades of grass. But we did.

  First we decided we wanted to count ten-centimeter-by-ten-centimeter squares, which was my suggestion after Mr. Terupt talked to us about sampling and how our government gets population numbers. Then we measured the squares on large pieces of cardboard and cut them out, so we were left with a piece of cardboard that had a ten-centimeter square missing in the middle. That was Mr. Terupt’s suggestion. Now it would be easy to toss our piece of cardboard around the field and collect random ten-centimeter samples. So far so good. Time to head outside.

  We marched downstairs and out the front doors by the office. Then we stampeded down the sidewalk until the end of the building. The soccer field awaited us on the side of our school.

  Peter

  She was bent over counting blades of grass. It was the perfect opportunity. Mr. T was busy helping someone else, so he wasn’t going to see me in action.

  I gripped the cardboard with my best hold, dipped my knees a little, and let the Frisbee fly. It zinged through the air on its mission like a missile from a fighter jet. Bull’s-eye!

  “Ow!” Lexie shrieked. “My tushie!”

  I almost died of laughter. I dropped to my knees, I laughed so hard. I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t catch my breath, either. Lots of other kids were laughing, too.

  Lexie yelled something about her “tushie” and me being a jerk. Everyone that missed out on the fun kept asking, “What happened? What happened?” Everyone except Mr. T.

  He came right over to make sure Lexie wasn’t injured.

  Lexie was holding her “tushie” and hopping up and down, saying “Ow” over and over. She’s a total drama queen. Usually a teacher checks the spot that hurts, but I don’t think Mr. T was real big on that this time.

  “Peter, that’s not funny,” Mr. T said to me. “Someone could have been injured. You’re lucky you didn’t hit anyone in the eye. Go sit down.”

  I sat down. It was no big deal. If you’d been there, you’d agree, it was superfunny.
>
  LUKE

  We spread out all over the place, tossing our cardboard squares and counting the blades of grass. Peter, however, was flinging his square like a Frisbee, even though Mr. Terupt had warned us that it wasn’t a toy and to be careful throwing it.

  Maybe if things had turned out differently that day, they would have turned out differently in the end, too. I think what happened on the soccer field just set us up for disaster later on.

  So Peter was being his typical sneaky self, flinging his square and counting here and there. But as soon as he spotted Alexia bent over her square, he wound up and sailed a beauty in her direction. It was a perfect delivery (dollar word) that tattooed (dollar word) her fanny.

  “Ow!” she screeched. “Like, what the heck!”

  “What happened?” Mr. Terupt instantly twisted (dollar word) around.

  “Like, someone just hit me right in my tushie with their square,” Alexia cried.

  “The ol’ buttocks again, huh,” Mr. Terupt said. “You okay?”

  “Yes,” Alexia said.

  Mr. Terupt turned and looked out at us. We were laughing our heads off, and I swear I saw him smile as he shook his head at the whole scene. “Peter, come over here, please,” he said.

  “Why me?” Peter complained.

  “Because we all know how much you like the buttocks area, don’t we?”

  Classic Mr. Terupt. Instead of blowing up, he was funny about it, but in a serious way. He sat Peter out for the rest of the activity and had a talk with him. Peter didn’t pretend to be innocent. But like I said, I think this set us up for later. The whole thing seemed funny. No one got hurt. Peter sat out. That was it.

  Once we finished tossing and counting, we headed inside, where we learned how to average all our data. Then we took our average number and used it to predict the soccer field total by figuring out how many of our squares could fit inside the field.