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Authors: Kristen Tracy

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BOOK: Too Cool for This School
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She put her arm around me too and informed Mr. Guzman, “I’m taking Lane to the bathroom.”

Ava didn’t wait for permission as she pulled me out of the classroom and down the hallway. “Why are you wearing that lame jacket?”

We entered the bathroom and I didn’t answer. Because I didn’t want to admit that I was wearing a much lamer shirt underneath. But then Ava put two and two together. “You’re wearing Angelina’s weird clothes!”

I leaned against the bathroom wall. “Please don’t judge me. I need water.”

I felt Ava yank on my zipper. Then she released a horrendous gasp. “What’s going on? You can’t wear this in public.”

She was right.

I tried to remember why I was wearing this shirt in the first place. “I was just trying to protect my cousin.”

Ava scowled at me and then shook her head. “I’m going to Lost and Found to see if I can snag you a halfway decent shirt.”

“No,” I said. I couldn’t let Ava do that. Wouldn’t that be stealing? Letting my mom lie about Mint’s permanent
address to get her into the school for a month was dishonorable enough. I couldn’t become a Lost and Found thief too. I’d signed an honor pledge. Forget whether the shirt would be scratchy or smell. What if the person who lost it recognized it and wanted it back? How would that look to my fellow class captains? I mean, they were planning to find me during lunch.

“Yes,” Ava said. “No arguments. It’s your only hope.”

Ava sounded so certain that I decided she was probably right.

“I hope you realize what an evil swap your cousin just pulled,” Ava said.

“No. No. No,” I said. “This was my idea. I offered.”

Ava’s eyes grew very large. I’m sure that was surprising news. Because what sixth grader would ever offer to wear ridiculous clothes?

Ava stuck her pointer finger in my face. “She tricked you. That’s what’s going on, and that’s what makes the swap evil. She’s trying to ruin your reputation and destroy your relationship with Todd!”

Why did Ava think that? “No,” I said. “She’s not like that.” My cousin wasn’t crafty and mean. She was clueless and animal loving.

“Oh,” Ava said before she walked out, “she’s exactly like that. Trust me. I’ve got her number.”

I kept leaning against the bathroom wall until Ava came back. Luckily, she returned with a cute, odorless green shirt that was made out of a super-soft fabric. We went into a
stall and locked the door. I took off the jacket and the wolf shirt, and put the green one on.

“We’re trashing this,” Ava said, taking the wolf shirt and wadding it up into a ball.

“Um,” I said. “That might upset my mom.” Even though I was justified, my mom would never approve of me trashing my cousin’s clothes.

“This shirt will reenter your life and haunt you if you don’t destroy it right now,” Ava said.

She was right. “Okay. But we have to keep her jacket.”

Ava lifted my cousin’s jacket by one finger and dangled it in front of me in disgust.

“That thing should have died in a garbage can years ago,” Ava said.

“It’s the only jacket she brought,” I said.

“It goes against my better judgment, but fine,” Ava said.

I felt so relieved. But when I reached for it, Ava didn’t give it to me.

“Promise me you’ll quit wearing it and hang it in the coat area,” Ava said.

“Deal,” I said.

When I walked back into the classroom wearing my semistolen, semiborrowed green shirt, my cousin was energetically placing the last geography assignment in front of Jagger. “I bet this would be harder if we lived in Alaska,” he said. “I bet that state has a ton more water resources than ours.”

She smiled hugely, and then said very loudly so the
whole class could hear her, “Yeah. Alaska’s rivers, lakes, snowfields, wetlands, and glaciers make up about forty percent of the entire surface water for the United States. And in the spring, we get a bunch of ice jams.”

“That’s so interesting, Mint,” Mr. Guzman said. “Ever since I was a kid, I’ve always wanted to visit Alaska.”

Was I really going to have to call my cousin Mint? It sounded so weird when Mr. Guzman said it. Like a foreign word. Or the name of a pet rat. Mint? I said it several times in my head.
Mint. Mint. Mint
. Even though it seemed wrong on many levels, I guess this was what everybody was going to call her now. Even me.

I continued to half listen as
Mint
gushed about Alaskan ice jams. Was this how she flirted? Maybe it didn’t matter whether Jagger thought she was cute. Because she came off as an annoying fact nerd. I went to my desk and sat down. After giving Jagger his assignment, my cousin knocked his desk with her hip, making a pencil roll onto the floor. Then she picked it up.

“I am
so
clumsy,” she said, drumming the pencil against his desk. “Hey, are these your teeth marks?”

When she finally handed the pencil back to him, for the first time in my life, I saw Jagger Evenson blush.

“I’m not sure,” Jagger said, holding the pencil with both hands, inspecting the pocked wood. “They could be.”

Then I watched Mint reach into her pocket and pull out a pack of gum, which wasn’t even allowed at my school. I looked to Mr. Guzman to see if he’d stop her. But he was sorting through a paper pile at his desk.

“Gum tastes way better,” she said, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

Somehow the pajama belt had given her hair extra volume, making it look really good, especially when she tossed it.

Jagger blushed more.

It was disgusting! Angelina Mint Taravel
did
know how to flirt. Seeing this sent a chill down my spine. Cousin or not, I did not want her in my classroom. I wanted her
gone
.

10

Even though Ava was my best friend, Rachel had become my favorite friend to call when things in my life were going lousy. Because she was a good listener. I’d dial her up and dump out all my anger, and she never interrupted me with her own problems. She was great like that. Especially when I found myself obsessing over the same rotten thing over and over.

“My pink bohemian shirt is totally ruined,” I told Rachel. “I mean, this stain is as permanent as the Grand Canyon.”

It might have been yesterday’s news to my friends, but I could not stop staring at my grafittied top.

“It was rude of her to put an exclamation point on it,” Rachel said. “Even if she thought it added style.”

Who would think an exclamation mark added style? I just ignored that comment.

“Mint is in the kitchen right now with my mom helping her make dinner,” I said. “She is so irritating.”

As the days ticked by, I found Mint difficult to be around even when I wasn’t around her. She was powerfully annoying. Every little thing she did got under my skin: The way she wrote in her journal at night. The way she stole my parents’ attention and talked to them as if they were her good friends. The way she sat at her desk and raised her hand and answered questions as if she belonged there, when her
real school
address was in Alaska. The way she took off her socks and left them on my bedroom floor in little sock wads. It was rough.

“Maybe you should go watch television,” Rachel said. “Take your mind off her.”

“I think I should tell my mom what Mint did,” I said. I kept rubbing my finger across the black mark. It felt like a different texture than the rest of my shirt. It felt like a different texture than anything I’d ever touched.

“Wouldn’t you have to tell your mom that you threw her wolf shirt in the garbage?” Rachel asked.

She was right. Instead of looking like a person who had an inconsiderate cousin who destroyed my clothes, I ran the risk of looking like the inconsiderate person who threw my cousin’s clothes away. My situation felt so unfair.

“Do you want to talk about something else?” Rachel asked. “When are we going to buy tickets for Ava’s concert?”

Ava’s
Sleeping Beauty
concert was still weeks away. Because we were supportive friends, we tried to attend all of them. Sometimes I wished Ava played the guitar or ukulele instead of the cello. Symphonies could be boring. Not only did Ava usually have a small part, she was mostly hidden behind her cello. This time Ava had assured us that she would be playing her cello during most of the songs. And when she wasn’t playing, she promised us she would try to lean to the left so that we could see her better.

“Has she showed you her callus?” Rachel asked. “It’s huge. She’s practicing like crazy.”

“No, she hasn’t. Let’s not worry about her concert yet. Can I vent more about Mint?” I asked. Because that was the whole reason I’d called Rachel. It’s like she’d forgotten what a great listener she used to be.

“Sure. Do you mind if I draw squids while you talk?”

“Go ahead,” I said.

Knock. Knock. Knock
.

“Great,” I huffed. “I think my least favorite houseguest ever just knocked on my door.”

“At least she knocked,” Rachel offered. “You are sharing the room.”

When my mom poked her head in my room, I felt a little relieved.

“Honey, Mint and I have decided to run to the store,” she asked. “Do you want to come?”

It really bugged me that my mom was calling my cousin “Mint.” I thought that was going to be something that would only happen at school.

“I’ll stay here,” I said. “Can you get more cereal?” I hated it when the box became overly crumb-filled at the bottom. All those little particles made the milk soupy.

Mint barreled into my room and raced toward her duffel bag. “Let me grab my wallet.”

I thought it was weird that Mint thought she had to buy her own food at the grocery store. Didn’t she know my parents had that covered?

“Consider it an early birthday present,” my mom said.

“You are such a cool aunt!” Mint cheered, wrapping her arms around my mom.

“Why aren’t you talking to me anymore?” Rachel asked.

“Something is happening in my bedroom,” I explained. “I think my mom is taking Mint clothes shopping.”

“Maybe she can buy you a replacement shirt!” Rachel suggested.

But if that happened, I thought I also might have to buy Mint a replacement wolf shirt and I would rather get attacked by a pack of cats than do that.

“I know exactly where I want to go!” Mint said. “It’s the hippest shop in Santa Fe.”

I stared at Mint in disbelief. How would she know where the hippest store was?

“Skull Coast!” Mint cheered.

I almost dropped the phone. “Mint wants to go to Skull Coast to buy clothes,” I told Rachel in a horrified and stunned voice.

“The thrasher store with the giant spiders?” Rachel asked.

How did Mint already know the creepiest place to shop in Santa Fe? Supposedly, that place kept tarantulas inside plastic boxes throughout the store. Didn’t Mint have any impulses toward normal stuff?

“I don’t think we’ve ever shopped there,” my mom said. “Have we?”

“Rachel,” I said. “I’ve got to go.” There was no way I could send my mom and Mint to that place without my guidance. As much as I wanted to stay and talk to Rachel, I needed to make sure nothing insane happened.

As soon as my mom parked the car, I got a phone call from Ava. But I didn’t answer it. I stayed focus on my task. No insane things could happen.

“Wow,” my mom said as we walked through the glass front doors. “They sure have a lot of black apparel.”

This was an understatement. Skull Coast had zero variety. The T-shirts were black. The pants were black. The shorts were black. And they didn’t have a girl’s section. It was a total dude store.

“How did you hear about this place?” my mom asked as she walked past a metal pole showcasing a T-shirt that said
I POOPED TODAY
.

“A guy who sits near me mentioned it,” Mint said.

“Who?” I asked. Because I couldn’t think of a single person in my class who would enter this store.

“Tuma,” Mint said.

I felt sick to my stomach. Why was Mint talking to Tuma? He was trouble.

“Is that a tarantula?” my mom asked, lifting a shaky
finger toward a Plexiglas box holding the biggest fanged spider I’d ever seen.

My life didn’t even feel like my life. A week ago I never even knew where this strip mall was located, now I was standing inside its weirdest store next to a giant, hairy spider.

BOOK: Too Cool for This School
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