handed him cheesy. He handed me dafadilly.
“So . . .” He reached into his backpack and pulled out a snack pack of two chocolate cupcakes. “Cupcake?” he offered.
“No, thanks.”
“Are you sure? There’s supposed to be a delight no matter how small a bite,” he said, referring to the corny ad for snack cakes. He tore open the package and took a bite. “Did you know every one of these cupcakes has seven loops on top? It’s like a thing.” When he smiled, his teeth were covered in chocolate.
“A thing, huh?”
“You like cupcakes, right? I mean, you were in a cooking contest or something?”
“How do you know about that?”
“I heard a rumor.” He picked up funkadelic and cheese weasel and tossed them into the Seventies tray.
“Olivia, right?”
He nodded. “I heard you made an entire castle and it was really cool.”
I could feel the edges of my mouth curling up into a smile. “Okay, just so you know, you can’t believe everything Olivia says.”
He pushed a bunch of words to the bottom of the board, spelling out a message for me to see.
Hey Sunshine. U R stellular. Totally munga.
I arranged some Shakespeare magnets to form a message back to him.
Methinks u jest squire (Me, Stevie)
I M no cheese weasel (Wire Rims)
Aye perchance a merry maggot-pie (Me, Stevie)
Grody! (Wire Rims)
3:55
Ms. Carter-Dunne stood up and straightened the stack of papers she’d been reading, tapping them into a neat pile. She started shoving folders into her shoulder bag. “Okay. Time’s up, you two. You’re free to go.”
Thou from loathsome prison breaks
Check ya later Sweetness
The word Sweetness dangled at the end of Check ya later. Did he mean me? Does that mean he likes me? I caught myself kind of hoping, but it scared me at the same time. What does it mean, anyway, if a boy likes you? Maybe he hadn’t even put it there on purpose. Maybe the word just happened to be there.
Uh! I hate that I’m driving myself crazy over a B-O-Y.
No matter what Olivia says, this figuring-out-boys thing was harder than it looked! Definitely not a science.
Next time, maybe I’ll just start a burping contest.
TO TELL OR NOT TO TELL
Starring Alex
Me:
Finally! Stevie. You’re home. What took you so long? Did you see the list? Hurry up, hurry up. Tell me. I’ve been dying all day.
Joey:
Yeah, Stevie. Hurry up. Tell her.
Me:
No, wait.
(Takes a deep breath to calm down.)
Don’t tell me.
Joey:
Yeah, Stevie, don’t tell her.
Me:
Joey, do you have to keep saying everything I say? And do you have to keep bringing that frog in my room?
Joey:
He has a name.
Stevie:
Tell you or don’t tell you? I feel like a Ping-Pong ball. First you drag me out of class and pretend to be Mom because you can’t wait to find out; now you don’t want me to tell you?
Me:
So, you know!
Joey:
You have to tell her sometime.
Me:
That’s bad, right? What did you mean, Joey, she’ll have to tell me sometime? Just tell me. Okay, go ahead. I’m ready. No. Wait. First . . .
(Gets into Shakespeare mode.)
“Is the news good or bad, answer to that.”
Stevie:
Well, let’s see. It depends.
Me:
On what?
Stevie:
On whether or not you were hoping to have a lot of extra free time.
Me:
(Glares.)
Oh, spurious day! How can this be happening to me? Uh! I knew it! I knew it the second Mr. Cannon didn’t take notes. I didn’t get the part, did I?
Stevie:
(Cringes.)
No. You’re not Juliet.
Me:
What sayest thou? Hast thou not a word of joy? Some comfort?
Stevie:
I’m sorry, Alex.
Joey:
But look at the bright side.
(In baby-talk voice.)
Right, Sir Croaks-a-Lot?
Me:
What bright side? You sound like Dad with his “Every cloud has a silver lining” speech. This is only the worst day of my life.
Joey:
Um . . .
(Thinks.)
You don’t have to pretend to drink poison and die and stab yourself in the stomach.
(Stevie nods in agreement.)
And you don’t have to kiss a yucky boy who has Frog Lips in front of tons of people.
Me:
(Falls back on the bed
“So . . .” He reached into his backpack and pulled out a snack pack of two chocolate cupcakes. “Cupcake?” he offered.
“No, thanks.”
“Are you sure? There’s supposed to be a delight no matter how small a bite,” he said, referring to the corny ad for snack cakes. He tore open the package and took a bite. “Did you know every one of these cupcakes has seven loops on top? It’s like a thing.” When he smiled, his teeth were covered in chocolate.
“A thing, huh?”
“You like cupcakes, right? I mean, you were in a cooking contest or something?”
“How do you know about that?”
“I heard a rumor.” He picked up funkadelic and cheese weasel and tossed them into the Seventies tray.
“Olivia, right?”
He nodded. “I heard you made an entire castle and it was really cool.”
I could feel the edges of my mouth curling up into a smile. “Okay, just so you know, you can’t believe everything Olivia says.”
He pushed a bunch of words to the bottom of the board, spelling out a message for me to see.
Hey Sunshine. U R stellular. Totally munga.
I arranged some Shakespeare magnets to form a message back to him.
Methinks u jest squire (Me, Stevie)
I M no cheese weasel (Wire Rims)
Aye perchance a merry maggot-pie (Me, Stevie)
Grody! (Wire Rims)
3:55
Ms. Carter-Dunne stood up and straightened the stack of papers she’d been reading, tapping them into a neat pile. She started shoving folders into her shoulder bag. “Okay. Time’s up, you two. You’re free to go.”
Thou from loathsome prison breaks
Check ya later Sweetness
The word Sweetness dangled at the end of Check ya later. Did he mean me? Does that mean he likes me? I caught myself kind of hoping, but it scared me at the same time. What does it mean, anyway, if a boy likes you? Maybe he hadn’t even put it there on purpose. Maybe the word just happened to be there.
Uh! I hate that I’m driving myself crazy over a B-O-Y.
No matter what Olivia says, this figuring-out-boys thing was harder than it looked! Definitely not a science.
Next time, maybe I’ll just start a burping contest.
TO TELL OR NOT TO TELL
Starring Alex
Me:
Finally! Stevie. You’re home. What took you so long? Did you see the list? Hurry up, hurry up. Tell me. I’ve been dying all day.
Joey:
Yeah, Stevie. Hurry up. Tell her.
Me:
No, wait.
(Takes a deep breath to calm down.)
Don’t tell me.
Joey:
Yeah, Stevie, don’t tell her.
Me:
Joey, do you have to keep saying everything I say? And do you have to keep bringing that frog in my room?
Joey:
He has a name.
Stevie:
Tell you or don’t tell you? I feel like a Ping-Pong ball. First you drag me out of class and pretend to be Mom because you can’t wait to find out; now you don’t want me to tell you?
Me:
So, you know!
Joey:
You have to tell her sometime.
Me:
That’s bad, right? What did you mean, Joey, she’ll have to tell me sometime? Just tell me. Okay, go ahead. I’m ready. No. Wait. First . . .
(Gets into Shakespeare mode.)
“Is the news good or bad, answer to that.”
Stevie:
Well, let’s see. It depends.
Me:
On what?
Stevie:
On whether or not you were hoping to have a lot of extra free time.
Me:
(Glares.)
Oh, spurious day! How can this be happening to me? Uh! I knew it! I knew it the second Mr. Cannon didn’t take notes. I didn’t get the part, did I?
Stevie:
(Cringes.)
No. You’re not Juliet.
Me:
What sayest thou? Hast thou not a word of joy? Some comfort?
Stevie:
I’m sorry, Alex.
Joey:
But look at the bright side.
(In baby-talk voice.)
Right, Sir Croaks-a-Lot?
Me:
What bright side? You sound like Dad with his “Every cloud has a silver lining” speech. This is only the worst day of my life.
Joey:
Um . . .
(Thinks.)
You don’t have to pretend to drink poison and die and stab yourself in the stomach.
(Stevie nods in agreement.)
And you don’t have to kiss a yucky boy who has Frog Lips in front of tons of people.
Me:
(Falls back on the bed
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