Got Cake? (6 page)

Plan B. The next day in the Student Center.

Jennifer brought her own camera. And I brought a huge bag of Nutty Nutty candy bars.

Everyone loves Nutty Nutty Bars. You know their slogan:
They're So Nutty, They Make You Nutty, Too!

The good thing about a Nutty Nutty Bar is that it sticks to your teeth.
No way
you can pull it off. So you have that great Nutty Nutty taste for
days
!

Normally I sell the Nutty Nutty Bars for two dollars each. But today was Plan B. Today everyone would see how popular I am. Mainly because I
planned to give the candy bars away for
free
.

I met Jennifer after dinner in front of the game room. The Student Center was packed. Lots of kids hang out here every night. It's more fun than doing your homework.

“Get your camera ready,” I told The Ecch. “When I start giving these babies away, I'll have a huge crowd around me. I'll be the most popular dude in the
universe
!”

I dragged my bag of candy into the game room. “Free candy bars!” I shouted. I raised a handful of candy bars over my head. “Come and get 'em! It's my birthday. And I'm giving out gifts! Free Nutty Nuttys!”

Can you
imagine
the excited cries and shouts? Bernie B.
giving something away
?

It looked like a cattle stampede. I was mobbed. All I could see were hands—hands grabbing the candy bars as fast as I pulled them from the bag.

“Jennifer—are you getting this?” I cried. “Are you getting their happy faces?”

I looked up to see her clicking away.

“Feenman, nice try,” I said. “Beat it. You already grabbed four bars. Did you think I wasn't counting?”

Feenman grinned. He had Nutty Nutty nougat and nuts stuck to his teeth and both cheeks. His school blazer pocket was stuffed with candy bars.

“Free Nutty Nuttys!” I shouted to the crowd. “It's my birthday gift to everybody!”

Kids cheered and slapped me on the back as I handed out the candy. I turned to Jennifer. “Are you getting the looks on their faces? Do I look popular or what?”

“Yeaa, Bernie! Yeaa, Bernie!” kids started to chant.

“Yo, Chipmunk!” I called. “Come here, Chipper. Here's a candy bar!”

Chipmunk is the shyest guy in school. He's so shy, he burps into his shirt pocket so his breath won't go on anyone. When he enters a room, he says, “Goodbye”—just in case you don't want to talk to him.

“Chipper—catch!” I tossed him a Nutty Nutty. I knew he was too shy to come over and get it.

I turned to The Ecch. “Take a picture. Quick. Chipmunk enjoying his free candy bar—thanks to the most popular dude in school!”

Everyone cheered. Jennifer clicked away. Plan B was a big success.

But then I saw Chipmunk's face get weird. His eyes bulged. His mouth dropped open.

He started waving his arms wildly and making a horrible sound.

“He's choking!” Feenman cried. “He's choking on the candy bar!”

I turned to Jennifer. “Stop taking his picture!”

Chipmunk's eyes bulged out of his head. His face turned bright purple. He was beating his chest with his fists.

At that moment Leif Blower walked in, followed by Mr. Pupipantz. They both stopped when they saw Chipmunk choking—and gasped.

Leif tried to help Chipmunk. He gave him a slap on the back. Chipmunk heaved hard—and a big, wet glob of Nutty Nutty Bar came flying out of his mouth. It sailed across the room and hit Mr. Pupipantz in the forehead—and stuck there.

Chipmunk was bent over, panting hard. His face started to return to its normal color.

Mr. Pupipantz struggled to pull the candy bar glob off his forehead.

“What's going on here?” he cried. He squinted at Chipmunk. “Who gave you that candy bar?”

Chipmunk pointed. “Bernie did. He made me eat it so
he could take a picture. I—I guess he forgot I'm allergic to nuts. The nuts made my throat close, and I started to choke.”

“Wait—I can explain!” I cried.

Everyone was staring at me. Kids started to boo and hiss. Some kids flung their candy bars back at me.

“Wait! Listen!” I cried. “OWWW!” A Nutty Nutty Bar hit me in the stomach. Candy bars bounced off my back.

“BOOOOOOOO!”

“HISSSSSSSS!”

“Jennifer—stop taking pictures!” I shouted. “Stop!”

She lowered her camera—and ducked as a bunch of Nutty Nutty Bars came sailing at me.

“BOOOOOOOO, BERNIE!” kids shouted angrily.

Jennifer turned her one blue eye and one brown eye on me. “Bernie,” she said, “is it time for Plan C?”

Birthday fever!

I could sense it. The whole Rotten School campus was buzzing about my birthday party.

NOT!

No one was talking about it. No one was making any big plans. And I
didn't have
a Plan C.

Wednesday afternoon, I ran into April-May June. She was carrying a tennis racket and heading toward the tennis courts across from R.U. Dumm Field.

I stepped in front of her to keep her from running
away. She's always so shy around me.

“Going to play tennis?” I asked.

“No. Just swatting flies,” she said. She swung the racket hard.

I jumped back. “Missed me!” I cried. “You have an awesome backhand. A natural swing.”

“Thanks, Bernie,” she said. “The answer is no.”

“But I didn't ask you anything,” I said.

“Just in case,” she said. She swung the racket again. This time she clipped the side of my face.

“No problem,” I said, staggering around on the grass. “I'll put ice on it. It won't swell up much.”

“Sorry,” she said. “I wasn't aiming for your face. It just slipped a little.”

I shook off the pain. “I know you've heard about my birthday party,” I said. “Just give me a hint. What kind of birthday present are the girls cooking up for me?”

“I know what
I'm
giving you,” April-May said.

I started to pant. My heart popped out of my chest. I had to push it back in.

“Really? What are you getting me?” I breathed.

“A picture of me,” April-May said. “The picture
that will be on my page in the yearbook as Most Popular Rotten Egg.”

I tossed back my head and laughed. I love a girl with a sharp sense of humor.

While I had my head tossed back, she flung her chewing gum into my open mouth.

“Bernie, are you really having a birthday party?” she asked.

I gulped down the gum. “Yeah, really,” I said. “It's going to be the biggest party in the history of birthdays.”

She squinted at me. “Then how come no one has heard about it?”

I swallowed. “Because it's a
surprise
party?” I uttered weakly.

She swung her racket again. This time it just brushed my hair back. I watched her run across the grass toward the tennis courts.

I had a heavy feeling—like a bowling ball—in the pit of my stomach. The party wasn't happening. Was it time to panic?

I couldn't let Sherman Oaks or April-May June win that yearbook page. I knew I was Most Popular.

But how could I prove it to Blower if the biggest party in birthday party history never happened?

And then…more bad news.

Belzer came running across the grass. “Bernie, Headmaster Upchuck wants to see you. Right away.”

“Did he have a smile on his face?” I asked Belzer. “I'll bet he wants to give me the Good Citizen Award for this month.”

“I don't think he was smiling,” Belzer said.

I started to shake. Uh-oh. He wasn't calling me in for doughnuts and chocolate milk.

What did I do wrong this week? I could only count twenty or thirty things.

I put a big grin on my face as I stepped into the Headmaster's office. He's so short, I had to stand on tiptoe and lean over his desk to see him.

“Nice to see you, sir,” I said. “I love that new tie. What are those colored streaks supposed to be? Is it modern art?”

He glanced down at the tie. “It's not modern art, Bernie,” he growled. “I spilled some of my Froot Loops on it at breakfast.”

“Well, it looks wonderful on you,” I said. “Why did you call me in, sir? Do you need some help with the first graders? You know I'm always eager to volunteer.”

“I have chapped lips. Don't make me laugh,” The Upchuck said. “I called you in to give you a short message.”

I flashed him my two-dimpled smile. “And what is that message, sir? If it has to do with the five missing pepperoni pizzas from the kitchen, I can explain that.”

His bald head turned red. He lowered himself from his chair and pulled himself up to his full, three-foot height. “Here's my message for you, Bernie,” he said. “It's just a little reminder.”

“Reminder, sir?”

He nodded. “Whatever it is you're doing? Don't do it!”

He climbed back into his chair.

“Is that it, sir?” I asked.

“That's it,” he said.

“Thank you, sir,” I said. I gave him a two-finger salute.

I turned and walked into his outer office. I let out a sigh of relief. I got off pretty easy that time.

I really
couldn't
explain about the five missing pepperoni pizzas. We guys got hungry late one night, that's all.

I headed for the door, then stopped. Someone was bent behind the long desk, shoving files into a bottom drawer. When he stood up, I recognized him.

Angel Goodeboy.

“Hey,” he called. “Bernie, what's up?”

Angel looks like an angel. He has a pink-cheeked round face, innocent blue eyes, a tiny red mouth, and a pile of blond, curly hair. I always picture him with a silver halo floating over his head.

The girls all adore him. Guys think he's the sweetest dude in school. But I know the truth about him.

Angel is no angel.

“What are you doing here in The Upchuck's office?” I asked him. “I mean, what are you being punished for?”

He giggled. “Me? Punished? No way, Bernie. I'm working here. You know. Filing stuff. And looking up records and stuff on the computer.”

“Do you get paid?” I asked.

He shook his head. “No. I'm doing it just for the fun.”

What a weirdo!

Then he leaned over the desk and whispered, “Bernie, I heard about your birthday party. I'm totally excited about it.”

I blinked. “You are?”

“Let me help out,” he said. “Please?”

I blinked again. Was I dreaming this? Angel and I weren't exactly best buddies.

“Help out? How?” I asked.

His blue eyes twinkled. “Well…I can get all the girls to come. They think I'm adorable. And I can get my Nyce House friends. And guess what, Bernie? My brothers and sisters are coming for a visit. They'll come, too.”

“You're serious?” I said. This could be good. I knew that Angel had a
lot
of brothers and sisters!

“My brother Angel is coming,” Angel said.

“He's named Angel, too?” I asked.

He grinned. “Yes, he's Angel the third. My brother Happy Goodeboy is coming. And Gladdy Goodeboy and Goody Goodeboy and my sister Beeya Goodeboy and my cousin Attsa Goodeboy.”

“Guess we'll have a good crowd,” I said.

“Let me take care of everything,” Angel begged. “Please, Bernie. Put me in charge. I want the party to be a real surprise for you.”

I squinted at him. I knew I couldn't trust him. Was he for real?

I studied his face. I stared into his eyes. I pinched his cheek really hard. I pulled out his tongue and examined it carefully.

Yes. He was for real. I wasn't dreaming this.

“You really think I should trust you?” I said. “You really want this party to be a success?”

“Give me a chance,” he said. “I'll work so hard! I'll talk it up so much, I'll have blisters in my mouth! I promise.”

“You promise?”

He flashed me his angelic grin. I could see the silver halo bobbing above his curly, blond hair.

Should I trust him?

Should
I?

I was desperate. I wanted to believe him. “Okay. You're on,” I said.

“I promise it'll be the biggest surprise party in the history of Rotten School!” he said.

And guess what?

He wasn't lying….