Everything's Changed Page 2

But then she said, “Don’t worry about Mrs. Haynes. She’s too old to follow us. Let’s GO!”

  She yanked on my arm, and I gave in and ran again. Because I wouldn’t know where to go if she left me. And because she was the only kid I knew in my whole grade.

  We ran together around a corner and down another long hall, until finally Mary Majors sped through a doorway and stopped short. And I ended up looking like this at the moment I met my new teacher and classmates:

  The teacher had been talking to the class. I don’t know whether she even noticed me at first. She just turned and crossed her arms and said, “Mary Majors Meade” in a very disappointed voice.

  “I know what you’re going to say, Ms. Chanda,” Mary Majors said quickly. (Somehow SHE wasn’t huffing and puffing and sweaty.) “I know I promised before break to start being on time. But today it’s not my fault! Because when I got to school, I overheard the new girl talking to Mr. Manning in the lobby. And then of course I had to stop and wait and show her around a little. Because that is the nice and welcoming thing to do, right?”

  I stared at her with my mouth open. She looked so wide-eyed and ready-to-swear-on-a-Bible truthful. But she was LYING. To the teacher!

  It WAS her fault that she was late. She was ALREADY late when she heard me talking to the security guard. Also, she never showed me around at all! She just made me SPRINT to class, like I was being chased by a boy who wanted to kiss me.

  As I stared at her, not believing her behavior, Mary Majors did the worst thing of all. She looked at me and said, “Right, New Girl?”

  So I had to decide whether to lie to my teacher or rat out the only kid I’d met in my new class. In front of everyone!

  All the kids were watching me like I was the best show they’d ever seen on TV. One red-headed boy looked very worried for me. Like I was just about to step on a porcupine barefoot.

  I couldn’t figure out what to do. So I smiled at my teacher and made this noise: “Mmnnmmnn.” And I prayed she wouldn’t ask me to actually say something.

  It worked! Ms. Chanda just asked, “Are you Celie?”

  I nodded.

  “Welcome to class 4C,” Ms. Chanda said. “Please take a seat next to Charlie.” She pointed at the red-headed boy. “Mary Majors, if you are late again tomorrow, you will get another detention. No excuses.”

  I sat next to redheaded Charlie, who smiled at me very nicely. And Mary Majors sat far across the room. Which made me happy. I didn’t like the lying. Or the running from teachers who told us to walk. Whether or not those teachers were old.

  I told myself I could just stay away from Mary Majors. The class was big—much bigger than at my old school.

  But about five seconds later, this note landed on my desk:

  Thanks, New Girl. xox,

  M&M

  (Mary + Majors)

  I did not send her a note back. Because I had been in class for FIVE MINUTES! I couldn’t get caught passing notes that soon! Plus I didn’t want her sending me x’s and o’s. I wanted her to stay away.

  But in the cafeteria, at lunch, she rushed over and stood right behind me in the food line. And she said things like “Only get the mac and cheese! The rest will make you vomit.” I’d only actually wanted the mac and cheese in the first place. But I got a roll, too. Because I didn’t like her bossiness.

  Then she said, “Sit here. Right here.” And she sat at a table with a couple of other kids at it. And what could I do? Go sit with other kids? I didn’t know any of them!

  So I sat with Mary Majors. Then other girls started sitting with Mary Majors, too. Asking her how her vacation was, and saying things like, “Listen to what happened to me, Mary Majors!” They were all nice to me, too.

  And I felt like maybe I hadn’t been fair to Mary Majors before. All these kids definitely liked her. And they’d known her forever. I’d just met her. So maybe I was just being mean.

  Plus, after lunch, Mary Majors sent me this note:

  See how Andie just asked to go to the bathroom? She had the tacos and corn for lunch. Told you to stick to the mac and cheese!

  M&M

  I didn’t send a note back. Because it was still my first day. But I did turn and smile at her. She waved back.

  As I turned around, I noticed that red-headed Charlie was watching me, too. He had a very disappointed look on his face. Like I’d promised that I’d bring him a slice of delicious chocolate cake, but then I’d brought grapefruit instead.

  “What?” I wanted to say to him. But I couldn’t. Because Ms. Chanda was saying something about annotating our reading assignments, and I had no idea what she was talking about. I had to pay attention.

  After the last bell rang, she said I should meet her in the classroom tomorrow morning before school, at 7:30, so she could start helping me get caught up. I have to remember that.

  And now I have to go back to doing my math homework, which I took a break from earlier. It is SO HARD. Rates of change problems—EIGHT of them! They’re making me feel like this:

  Later—taking ANOTHER break from VERY HARD math

  I just remembered something. Dad owes me big things!

  He promised me a popcorn maker, a cotton candy machine, and three beanbags if we moved. Plus an art studio for Granny.

  But there’s no space in this apartment for an art studio. And my room is too small for a cotton candy machine OR a popcorn maker OR three beanbags.

  As soon as he gets home from work, I’m telling him he has to get me other things instead.

  Here is what I will accept:

  A little later

  Our doorbell rang about fifteen minutes ago. I knew who was there without even leaving my room. Because Mom had told us that a woman was coming to interview to be our Stranger Nurse.

  So I grabbed my spy notebook, and waited for just the right time, and sat in the hall near the living room door. And I listened to that interview.

  Here is my spy report:

  From the

  Top-Secret Spy Notebook of

  Celie Valentine Altman

  Spies must on occasion travel to foreign lands and appear to be at home. Try acquiring this skill. First, consider how people speak in your foreign land. Research key phrases, like “How much is a first-class ticket?” And, “Yes, I would like to taste the barbecued guinea pig.”

  NO, I WOULD NOT LIKE TO TASTE THE BARBECUED GUINEA PIG! I want to warn the poor guinea pig! Stay away from the flames, guinea pig. Stay far away!

  Research the typical attire of the foreign land. In some nations, for example, it is frowned upon for women to wear shorts, pants, or short skirts. Will you need to change the way you dress?

  I feel annoyed by those nations. I’m never going to any of them.

  Mom just offered the interviewing Stranger Nurse some cookies, and Stranger Nurse said, “No, thank you.” Which is not good. How will we know in time whether she chews with her mouth open? Also, what kind of person doesn’t like cookies?

  Technology might work differently in foreign lands. You might need a power adapter to charge a spy camera disguised as a bottle of hairspray, for example. Are you prepared?

  I want a spy camera disguised as a bottle of hairspray! I want to walk into rooms and pretend to spray-spray-spray my hair and record everything!

  Careful planning is critical for every spy. Make a list of points to consider as you prepare for your foreign experience.

  Points I am considering:

  • This interviewing Stranger Nurse is named Idella Stone. (I think that’s how she spells her first name, anyway. She pronounces it Eye-Della.) What kind of a name is that?!

  • Eye-Della REALLY likes sayings. For example, after Dad said we’d been through a lot of tough changes recently, Eye-Della said, “Never rains but it pours.” And, after Mom asked how long she’d been a nurse where she’s working now, Eye-Della said, “Almost ten years, thank the good Lord above. No moss on a rolling stone.”

  • I don’t understand that moss on a stone sayin
g.

  • Also, she said this annoying thing: When Mom said, “Granny has been staying with our Cousin Carla for the past several days, as we’ve been getting settled here,” Eye-Della said, “Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

  • That was not the right thing to say. Because we CAN’T be fonder of Granny. Her absence doesn’t make my heart fonder. It makes my heart sadder.

  • Mom told Eye-Della that Granny is coming home on Thursday! Finally! Then Mom asked how quickly Eye-Della could start, if we hired her; and Eye-Della said by the end of the week. So her timing is good. I hope SHE is good! Mom has to figure that out, FAST!

  A little later

  I’m worried about Jo.

  I went to tell her about the Eye-Della interview, and the news about Granny coming home. Plus I wanted to describe the whole Mary Majors situation and ask her advice.

  I found her in her new room. Which already has dirty clothes on the floor. Plus books and jewelry and hairbands and wads of mismatched socks all over the top of her dresser.

  Sometimes I miss having Jo with me in my room, but I NEVER miss her mess.

  Anyway, she was on her bed, watching her phone. And looking sad.

  “What’s the matter?” I said. “Was school bad?”

  “No, school was okay—everyone was really nice,” she said. “But Jake was supposed to text me first thing after school to ask me that exact question. He PROMISED he’d do that, because he knew how worried I was, about how it would go. But he still hasn’t texted—and I’ve been trying to get him for hours.”

  “That’s weird,” I said. Because even though I never actually wanted Jo to have a boyfriend, I have to admit that Tall Jake is nice.

  “I know—he’s really good about promises, usually,” she said. “He always keeps them.”

  Then Mom called us to dinner. Dad had gotten home, too, and we all talked about the whole Granny coming home/finding a Stranger Nurse situation. Which is a worrying topic.

  Plus I felt a little frustrated. Because I wanted to ask Mom, “Why did you tell Eye-Della important information before you told US?” But I couldn’t. Because I’m not supposed to spy.

  I did feel happy about this, though: It turns out there’s a VERY YUMMY pizza delivery restaurant in this neighborhood!

  A little later

  Dad just came in to check on me. I reminded him that he owes me three beanbags, a popcorn maker, and a cotton candy machine. He said, “Well … your mom and I have been thinking about that.”

  Then he went to get Mom. And they said that since I’m going through so many tough changes, they wanted to give me something they knew I really wanted. And something that will help me keep in touch with my old friends.

  Then they handed me …

  MY VERY OWN CELL PHONE!!!!!

  It’s so beautiful!!

  I cannot wait for my FABULOUS cell phone to charge, so I can text Lula and Violet. (They both got phones before me. Every single person I know got a phone before me. But that’s OK! I have a spectacular one now!)

  I wonder what Mom and Dad are giving Jo. Have to go find that out.

  A tiny bit later

  Jo got the purple, fuzzy rug she wanted for her room AND a camera that prints the pictures you take. (Good gifts, but not as good as my CELL PHONE!)

  She was thanking Mom and Dad and smiling and hugging them when I got to her room. But after they left, she got even more gloomy than she’d been before dinner.

  “What’s the matter?” I asked her. We were both sitting on her new purple rug, which Dad had put in just the spot she wanted. I thought maybe she was mad because she’d had to wait until she was twelve to get a cell phone. And I’m only ten.

  But she shrugged and said, “Jake’s being a jerk.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  She shrugged again. Which did not exactly answer the question.

  I pointed to her phone, on her bed, and asked, “Can I see what he said?”

  She actually typed in her password then and showed me the texts. Which definitely surprised me. And made me worried. Because Jo does NOT usually like me touching her phone. And she almost never lets me read texts from Jake. I knew if she showed me texts from him now, she must be feeling very bad and needing lots of help. So I paid close attention to everything I read.

  Here’s what those texts said:

  Jo (about 3:45 PM): one day down, way too many more to go

  Jo again (about 5:00 PM): r u home yet?

  Jo again (about 7 PM): ?

  Now Jake (about five minutes later): hey

  Jake again: sorry just texting now. decided to

  Jo (about ten minutes later): ok

  Jake: coach says i’m pretty fast. won some heats

  Jo: great

  I think maybe Jo was being sarcastic when she texted “great.” Because when I stopped reading, she said, “Do you see how he never even asks how my first day was? He just talks about how fast he is. And he doesn’t text me at all until AFTER DINNER. Does track go through dinner?”

  “It didn’t when you were on the team,” I said.

  “Exactly!” Jo said. “So why did he wait so late to text?”

  “You should ask him that,” I said.

  “No, I shouldn’t,” Jo said. “Because if I do I’ll seem stalker-y.”

  “Oh,” I said. “Okay.” Because I don’t exactly understand what’s girlfriend behavior and what’s stalker-y behavior.

  Then I had an idea.

  “I’ll call Violet!” I said. “She can tell us where Jake was for dinner and why he didn’t text you before then.”

  I liked that idea a lot. But Jo’s eyes got big and she started shaking a finger at me.

  “DO NOT DO THAT!” she said. “If you tell Violet, then Violet will tell Jake, then Jake will think I’ve been talking to you about him behind his back, and that you and Violet have been talking about him, and he’ll feel weird. Plus he’ll think I’m all upset. So DO NOT SAY ANYTHING to Violet. Got it?”

  “Got it,” I said.

  Except, I didn’t actually get it. Because Jo IS all upset. And if Jake doesn’t know that, he might not fix it. Wouldn’t that be bad?

  This whole girlfriend-boyfriend thing is very confusing.

  STILL TRYING TO DO THIS MATH!

  I cannot look at these math problems ever again. They’re impossible! I want to make Ms. Chanda do this problem when I see her tomorrow morning:

  “Before today, Celie did 0 rate-of-change math problems. Since coming home from school today, Celie has tried to do 8 rate-of-change problems. Find the rate of increase in the likelihood of Celie’s whole entire head exploding.”

  Before bed

  I just had my very first texts with Violet and Lula! I am SO HAPPY to be able to do that!

  I was VERY CAREFUL not to ask Violet where Jake went for dinner. But the subject definitely came up. I’ll copy what we said here:

  Me: it’s CELIE!! mom and dad got me a phone!!!

  Lula: yyyyyaaaaaaayyyyyy!!!!

  Violet: let’s text all day every day!!!

  Lula: was ur new school ok?

  Me: girl named mary majors being nice. majors NOT her last name. she gets called that whole thing—mary majors—all the time

  Lula: we should call u celie valentine all the time! or celie

  Violet: we celie

  Me: :-) :-) :-)

  Violet: hey celie, is jo mad at jake?

  Me: what do you mean?

  Violet: b/c jake’s been trying to text her and she won’t answer him

  Me: oh

  Violet: is she mad because he went to trina’s after track?

  Me: HE WENT TO TRINA’S AFTER TRACK? WHY DID HE DO THAT? I HATE MEAN-ATRINA!

  Violet: i told him not to!

  Lula: i hate trina, too! remember when we put hate mail in her locker, celie, b/c she was being mean to jo and that other girl—dee—in their class?

  Me: yes! I’d already told jo for MONTHS that trina was a terrible per
son. was so happy when jo FINALLY stopped being her friend

  Lula: why did jake go to trina’s?

  Violet: idk. he called home after practice and said to tell mom he was going over to a track friend’s and he’d be there for dinner, and i said which friend, and he said trina, and I said it seems wrong to go home with girl who’s not jo, and he said stop being nosy and just tell mom.

  Lula: maybe a big group went?

  Violet: I asked that! just him

  Me: i have to go tell jo.

  Violet: k. tell us what happens!

  Lula: yeah, don’t forget!

  Me:

  I did NOT like that Trina news. Because she really is a terrible person, and she doesn’t even speak to Jo anymore. Why would she ask Jake to come over??? Definitely not for any good reason.

  I hurried back to Jo’s room and found her sitting on her bed with a book in her lap. Right away I told her, “Read these texts.”

  Then I handed her my phone, and I watched her read.

  I expected her to turn red-faced and big-eyed. Because that’s how she looks when she’s mad.

  Instead, her face and her shoulders got droopy, and she shook her head.

  “What’s the matter?” I asked.

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” she said.

  “Oh,” I said. Then I just stood there, trying to figure out how to get her to talk when she didn’t want to.

  I guess standing and thinking was a good strategy on my part, because Jo eventually said something. Except, it wasn’t something I liked. She said, “I feel so stupid.”

  “You’re not stupid!” I said. “How could you possibly feel stupid?”

  “Because all of you are talking about me, and everybody knows something that has to do with me, and I don’t know anything,” she said.

  “I don’t know more than you,” I said.

  “But you knew before I did,” she said. “I don’t like that Jake went to Trina’s and, especially—why didn’t he tell me about it?”