The Total Tragedy of a Girl Named Hamlet (16 page)

When the bell rang, I shoved everything into my book bag and spun to check on Dezzie. Carter and Davy lingered at her table. She was pointing at something in the textbook, big gray eyes darting back and forth from the page to their faces. I could tell she was explaining something to them—she had the same patient expression on her face I’d seen so often. Torn between wanting to know what it was and not wanting to be seen with her, I hung back.

Davy and Carter picked their stuff up what seemed like hours later. I had to get my lunch from my locker, and I figured I’d walk with Dezzie. Based on Ty’s reaction to seeing me with KC earlier in the period, I knew lunch was going to be uncomfortable. Why rush to get there? As soon as Davy and Carter walked away, she darted into the tutoring office with barely a wave.

“I have to meet my calculus teacher early,” she called.

No time to talk. My heart sank. I’d just have to hope that she wouldn’t tell Saber and Mauri—or anyone else—what she’d been up to this period. They didn’t need more ammo in the Dezzie versus Hamlet war.

Then I remembered: Carter and KC had firepower too.

vii

The pig count was up to seven. This one was made with aluminum foil—the shiniest of the bunch.
Was
it Ty? But I was telling the truth when I told Judith he couldn’t do origami. The kid could barely fold a napkin, let alone elaborate Japanese animals.

“Well, I don’t know what
I’d
do if
my
little sister was tutoring
me
in class,” Mauri said loudly, interrupting my thoughts as I passed her on my way into the caf. “I guess I’d just die of embarrassment.”

“I’d die of embarrassment if
I
had your
face
,” I muttered in response. So much for keeping tutoring on the down low. I trudged to our table and plopped in my seat. This time, I didn’t even bother taking my lunch out of the bag.

“Yikes,” Ely said. “You look scary. Really scary.”

I scowled at him.

“Dude, you’re
not
helping,” said Judith to him. She slid some vanilla sandwich cookies across the table to me. “Try these, Ham.”

I picked one up and removed the top layer.

“The not-so-dynamic duo getting on your case again?” Ely asked. I nibbled and nodded, not wanting to look him in the eye. “Is it the math thing?”

“Yeah.”

Ty just sat in his chair, eyes glued to his leftover pizza slices, not even glancing in my direction. It was obvious that he was ticked about the scene in the hallway with KC. Did Ty think I was flirting with KC or something? Ew!

I tried to calm the questions that whirled in my brain when I looked at Ty. Why did he have to like
me
? Did he even still want to be my friend? Or was this it—no more Ty and Ham, because he wanted to be more than friends and I didn’t? Aarrggh!

“Ely told me what happened. How did they find out?” Judith asked. I took another one of her cookies.

“Dunno,” I said. “Either Carter or KC told them. Or someone else, I guess.” I licked the filling off the bottom layer. “This is about the worse eighth-grade year in history.”

As if agreeing with me, Ty crumpled his lunch bag and pushed back from the table. With a muttered “Later,” he stalked off.

“What gave him a sunburn?” Ely asked.

“Dunno,” I said, lying, lying, lying. Judith scowled at me.

The school intercom crackled, cutting through the caf’s chatter and noise like a spoon through Jell-O. Mrs. Pearl’s voice came through.

“Pardon the interruption. Hamlet Elizabeth Kennedy, please report to the front office immediately. Hamlet Kennedy, please report to the front office.”

It was like someone had turned the spotlight of shame on me: The eyes of every eighth grader locked on to my table, and once the seventh graders figured out where they were staring, they joined in too. I’m sure the sixth graders were trying to figure out where the voice from the sky came from.

“Everything okay?” Ely asked as I pushed my chair back. A little too quickly. Without looking around.

It thumped into something solid behind me, and I heard an “oof!” and then felt something warm and lumpy dripping down my back and in my hair.

I looked up, right into the face of Carter Teegan. Who, instead of smelling like coconut shampoo, had a distinct cheesy aroma. Probably because he was wearing a plate full of mac ’n’ cheese. Okay, not a whole plate.

The rest had fallen on me.

The caf erupted in noise: laughter, catcalls, cheers, whoops. My face was so hot, it could have melted like the warm, drippy cheese.

“Dude! Are you all right?” screeched Judith over the din. Ely’s face danced in a million different directions. He was trying not to laugh. Jerk.

Ms. Finch-Bean, the day’s lunch monitor, was by my side an instant later. “Are the two of you hurt?”

I was so busy with my own humiliation, I barely even looked at Carter. He was dabbing at the giant gooey spot on the front of his button-down shirt with a paper napkin.

“No,” I said, mortified. “Carter, I’m really sorry. I didn’t see you.” I choked out the apology. Judith, meanwhile, mopped my head with napkins.

“Guess
not
,” he muttered. His words stung. He wasn’t even trying to be nice about it.

“I-I’m sorry,” I stuttered, eyes filling with tears. Ms. Finch-Bean patted my hand. The hoots and hollering were dying down, but just barely. If this is what happened when I was singled out in the caf, I couldn’t imagine how bad it would be when I was onstage. The lights would probably fall and crush me.

“You were on your way to the office to begin with,” she said. “So go. And you,” she directed at Carter, “that’ll come out with some soap and water. Give it to me—keep your T-shirt on—and I’ll take it to the big sink in the art room. It’ll be ready for you by the end of the day.”

Ugh. So now I was responsible for making Carter Teegan take his clothes off in the middle of the caf. I was beyond mortified, and no longer cared that I’d been called to the office. If it was an emergency, it had better be a good one.

“Dude, I could escort you,” Judith said, wadding up cheese-clogged napkins. “You might need help after this trauma.”

I shook my head. A piece of macaroni fell out of my hair and splatted onto the floor. “No thanks.”

I kept my gaze on the ground, about four feet in front of where I was walking, so I wouldn’t have to see everyone else staring. It didn’t do anything to block out the giggles and laughter, though. Slowly, as I made my way across the room, the conversations resumed. My face was so bright, it could have lit a path in the dark.

Once out of the caf, I took a deep breath and brushed the remaining mac and cheese from my hair. It was leaving a trail down the hall. I willed myself not to cry.

Why was I being called to the office? I ran through everything I had done that morning. There was no rule I’d broken, no one I’d been in trouble with. I had nearly been late to two of my classes, and barely had time to speak with anyone in between. But now that I was covered in a dairy disaster, I was about to find out.

When I arrived at the office, things became a little clearer. Dezzie was sitting in one of the chairs next to Mrs. Pearl’s desk.

“Thank you for coming so quickly, dear,” Mrs. Pearl said. It was like she didn’t even notice my faux-cheddar-covered head.

“Is everything okay?” I glanced at Dezzie, and her eyes grew round.

“What happened to you?” she asked.

I ignored the question. “Where’s Mom?”

“She just called. Seems that she is held up at a meeting, and your sister needs to get home in time for her afternoon lessons. She excused you to walk her home,” Mrs. Pearl finished. I fished a piece of pasta from the front pocket of my shirt. “Assuming, of course, that you come back when her tutor arrives at your house.”

I had been called to the front office, then knocked mac and cheese all over myself and Carter Teegan in front of the whole school, because I had to walk my sister home? Did my parents have any
clue
about reality? Did my life matter at all to them? I fought the urge to scream.

Deep breath.

“Sure.”

At least I could shower and change.

“I’ll have someone pick up your assignments from your next class,” Mrs. Pearl said as the end of lunch bell rang.

Thankfully, it wasn’t math.

“Do you have your stuff?” I directed at Dezzie. She nodded, solemn.

We left the office and headed to the front of the building.

“I am sorry, Hamlet,” she said when we reached the sidewalk. “I know you don’t want to do this. And you’re not having a very good day today.”

Dezzie, Queen of the Understatement.

“No, Dezzie, I’m not.” Then I shook my head, getting a whiff of orange cheddar. “It’s fine. You can’t stay at HoHo all day.” Inside, I was screaming, “I’m covered in mac and cheese!
Mac and cheese!
And I have to walk you home?!!!”

This wasn’t really about Dezzie. It was about Mom and Dad. It was about how unfair this whole situation was—Dezzie had to get what she needed, so she had to go to
my
school.
My
life was turned around too. I had to leave
my
classes to walk her home (okay, and to shower out the cheese on my head, but that wouldn’t have happened if she hadn’t been at HoHo). And they were so wrapped up in their Elizabethan breeches that they had no clue.

We went the rest of the way in silence, our footsteps crunching in the dry fall leaves. I didn’t want to think about the caf, or pigs, or Carter, or Ty, or the coagulating goo on my neck. I just wanted this day to be over.

When we reached the house, I unlocked the door and had my sister leave a message with Mom’s department secretary that we’d arrived safely. There would be no need for
me
to leave a message that I’d made it back to school, I thought with a bitter twinge. I went upstairs to get cleaned up.

After a quick shower and a change of clothes, I felt a little better—and smelled
much
better. Dezzie sat at the kitchen table, still waiting for her tutor. I poured myself a glass of milk.

“Who’s coming today?” I asked.

“Professor Bigsby. Math,” she said when she caught my puzzled expression. She went upstairs to get her books. I finished my drink and put my glass in the sink. Through the front window, I saw a small blue car pull up. A man with curly hair and thick glasses got out, carrying a sheaf of papers and books. I opened the door for him.

“You must be Hamlet,” he said. “I’d shake your hand, but . . .” He gestured at the pile of papers with his chin.

“My sister’s upstairs,” I said. She came down with her books and they settled at the dining room table. I told Dezzie I’d be straight home after school, but I doubt the two of them heard me. They were already deep into math with way more letters than numbers.

And I felt like a remainder.

 

Two hours later, when I was going home from school for the second time that day, this time cheese-free, I heard the slap-slap-slap of extra feet behind me. When I turned my head, Saber and Mauri were right there.

“Aren’t you going to say hi?” asked Saber, a big grin on her face and her ponytail bouncing.

“Are you lost?” They drew up next to me. Mauri laughed.

“That’s too funny!” she cried. They matched their steps with mine.

“Is it me, or does something smell like cheddar?” Mauri said. Her nails were painted bright blue.

“Hmmm. Must be your breath,” I replied.

“Nice job, knocking into Carter,” said Saber. “Do you have a
crash
on him?”

“Get lost,” I snapped, and picked up my pace. I had no more desire to play nice.

“We’re visiting someone,” Saber said, ignoring my direction and speeding up to stay with me.

“In your neighborhood,” Mauri added. I could guess who.

“Why?” They looked at me like I’d sprouted nine heads.

“Because she’s our
friend
,” Saber said. She rolled her eyes. “And she said we could come over.”

“She did?” I stopped in my tracks. Dezzie hadn’t mentioned anything to me about inviting them to our house. They nodded. “Well, my parents are at a meeting,” I said, thinking fast. The last people I wanted to hang out with at home after a day like today was
them
. “My mom doesn’t like it when we have people over when they’re not there.” It was a lie—they didn’t mind if Ty, Judith, or Ely came by when they were at work. But Dezzie’d never had anyone but tutors to the house.

Mauri and Saber glanced at each other.

“My mom is going to pick us up at your house,” Saber said. “She’s coming at four. Can’t we just hang out until we get there?”

We were at the corner of our street. Mauri and Saber had expectant looks on their faces. I remembered Dezzie saying how she never had school friends before.

“I guess so.” May as well put a fork in this whole day—it was done. I turned down the street without waiting for their response. Having Saber Greene and Mauri Lee in my house was like inviting a wolf in for a steak dinner.

I opened the front door and called out to Dezzie. When she appeared around the corner, her eyes widened. Iago was right behind her, all wagging tail and licking kisses. Traitor.

“Hi,” she said, sounding shy.

Saber and Mauri pushed past me. They squealed over how “cute” our house was and how “adorable” Iago was and asked Dezzie for a “tour.” I trailed behind as Dezzie showed them around, trying not to retch.

“Oh look at these! Are they your relatives?” Mauri asked. “We have pictures of my great-grandma in our house too.” We were standing in the living room, in front of a display of photos of our family in costume that our parents had developed in black and white.

“No,” Dezzie said. “They were taken at King George’s Faire. We do a family portrait there every summer.” Saber and Mauri leaned closer. Iago sat on his velvet pillow and began licking his paws.