Rotten Apple by Rebecca Eckler Page A

clue what Happy was getting at but feeling herself, again, turning pink at the very sound of his name.
    “Oh my God. Are you blind? He looks amazing! I never noticed how good-looking he was. Who knew? You get some contact lenses and a surfer body and atan, and, poof, six months later you’re hot. Man, he’s even hotter than that lifeguard,” Happy said.
    “I don’t know,” Apple answered. They walked into the classroom and took seats next to each other. “I mean, I thought he looked kind of cute before, with his glasses. They made him look smart.”
    “Smart, schmart. Zen is hotter now than Hopper. I think he may even have a better body,” Happy said dreamily.
    Apple couldn’t help but think about how she had only a few more hours to talk to Zen today. She had only a few more hours to get Plan Z into action.
    And she couldn’t believe how slowly her classes were going by. Finally, the lunchtime bell went off. Apple felt her stomach lurch. She wasn’t sure if it was hunger pangs. She knew the knot in her stomach probably had more to do with the thought of trying to talk to Zen again. I am just so bad at this, she thought.
    She headed to the cafeteria. You are the daughter of Dr. Bee Bee Berg, thought Apple. For God’s sake, you can do this. You
know
what to do. You read the damn book!
    “Hey, Brooklyn,” Apple said to her friend, who was opening a plastic container full of mung beans. Brooklyn didn’t eat anything that had once had a face. She always had some sort of Tupperware container full of organic healthy fare, usually some sort of bean salad, which meant her lunches often smelled like feet. “Where’s Happy?”
    “She just went to the washroom. She’ll be back in a sec. Doesn’t being back at school suck? It’s almost likewe didn’t have a break at all,” Brooklyn moaned, putting aside her smelly lunch and lying back dramatically on the bench.
    “I know. I feel all tense again,” Apple admitted, not exactly telling the truth about why she was tense. “God, how can you eat that stuff?” she asked Brooklyn with a hint of disgust, and then moved the beans a little farther away from her.
    “I don’t know. I like it. It’s good for you. Why are you so tense?” Brooklyn asked. “What’s up?”
    “Oh, nothing,” Apple answered.
    “You should really think about taking up yoga,” Brooklyn advised her friend. “It’s the only thing that puts my body and mind at peace. Sometimes you just need to connect your mind and your heart and all will be good.”
    But Apple wasn’t listening. Zen had walked into the cafeteria and was about to walk by their table. Now is your chance, Apple, she thought.
    “Hey, Zen,” Apple called out as he came closer.
    “Oh, hi, Apple. Hi, Brooklyn,” Zen said.
    “Do you want to sit with us?” Brooklyn asked.
    “Yes, there’s room here,” Apple added. Or she thought she did. She wasn’t sure if the words had come out at all.
    “Oh, I can’t. I promised Hopper I’d meet him out back and shoot some hoops with him.”
    “Oh, you like basketball?” Apple asked, remembering the tip to try to keep him talking about something he was interested in.
    “Yeah, sure. I’m
addicted
to basketball.”
    “I like basketball too,” Apple said.
    She ignored Brooklyn, but she saw her out of the corner of her eye, looking at her as if she had gone mad. Brooklyn knew she hated all sports.
    “Really. Who’s your favorite team?” Zen asked.
    “Um, the guys who wear the green jerseys?” Apple said. There must be a team with green jerseys, Apple prayed.
    “Oh, those guys,” laughed Zen. “Yeah, they’re my favorite team too. Well, I’d better go. Hopper is waiting for me. See you guys later.”
    “Say ‘hi’ to Hopper for me,” Brooklyn called out.
    Apple watched as Zen walked off. She felt stupid and deflated. Maybe she should have been reading her mother’s other book,
Mistakes Not to Make, by the Queen of Hearts
.
    “Have you noticed how good Zen