CHAPTER 5

THE CONTEST

Lynsey narrowed her eyes and hissed, “You take that back!”

Dave shrugged. “Take what back? That girls are big blabberheads all the time? No way—because they are! Everybody knows that.”

It’s a shame to have to report this, but Dave actually believed what he was saying.And in his ignorant but creative young mind, an idea sparked to life.

Before Lynsey or any of her friends could say something back, Dave said,“And there’s a way to prove that girls talk way more than boys. Unless you’re afraid of some competition, you and your noisy friends.”

“Afraid?” Lynsey said, looking around at the girls. “We’re not afraid of anything—except catching whatever made you so stupid.”

The girls giggled, but Dave ignored the insult, completely caught up by his new idea. He waved his

hands to quiet them down. “Okay, here’s the deal: a whole day of no talking at school. Not in class, not in the halls, not on the playground, nowhere. No talking at all. And it’s a contest—boys against girls. Whichever side talks less, wins.”

Lynsey made a face. “No talking? At school? That’s impossible.”

Dave had an advantage here. He had just spent almost four hours without saying a word. At school. So he had some experience, and he felt like he knew what he was talking about.

He grinned and said,“Maybe it’s impossible for a girl to be quiet. But I bet the boys can do it. Or at least, we can do it better than the girls.”

Lynsey said, “But, like, what if a teacher looked right at you and asked a question, then what?”

Dave grinned and said, “You could always . . . cough.”

Lynsey’s mouth dropped open, and then she glared at him.“You did that coughing in social studies on purpose? You are so immature!”

Dave shrugged.“It was sort of a test.And it worked. But if every kid in fifth grade coughed every time a teacher asked a question? That would not work.”

Lynsey sniffed. “Well, I say that this whole idea is ...childish.Silly and childish.”

“It’s okay if you don’t want to,” Dave said. “It was just an idea. I mean, I can see why you’d be afraid, since you’re a girl and all.And since you have to talk every other second. No problem. Sorry I interrupted you. Just keep talking to your friends there.You were talking about something important, weren’t you? That special sweater, right? Go ahead, talk.You girls go on and talk and talk and talk all you want to.”

Lynsey pressed her lips together and glared at Dave, her eyes narrowed to slits. “You are the most annoying little—” She stopped mid-insult and folded her arms. “All right,” she said. “Let’s work out the rules. Right now. If a teacher talks to you, what then?”

“You answer,” Dave said. “How many words can you use?” she asked. Dave smiled.“Let’s make it . . . ten words—in case you and your friends need to tell a teacher about some new clothes you got.”

“Stop trying to be funny. Because you’re not,” Lynsey said.“Make the limit four words. If you answer with more than four words in a row, the extras count.”

Dave shook his head. “Four’s still too easy. Let’s make it a three-word limit.And every illegal word is one point—against your team.”

“Duh,” said Lynsey. “Like I needed you to explain that!”

“So it’s a three-word limit?” Dave said. “Three,” said Lynsey,“and you can answer teachers, or the principal . . .”

“. . . or any grown-up at school,” said Dave.“Like the custodian.”

“Or the nurse,” added Lynsey. Because she wasn’t about to let Dave Packer have the last word about anything.

“What about contractions?” she asked. “What about ’em?” Dave said. “Does a contraction count as one word or two?” Dave didn’t let it show in his face, but he was impressed by Lynsey’s question—that she was able to think so far ahead and figure out that words like “won’t” or “isn’t” could cause a scorekeeping problem. And right away, Dave was just as impressed with himself, because he understood how to answer her question with a question of his own.

He said,“If you go find a dictionary, can you look up the word ‘won’t’?”

Lynsey nodded.“Of course you can.” “Then it’s a word—one word,” said Dave. “Any other questions?”

And now it was Lynsey’s turn to hide her

thoughts, because she was impressed with Dave’s answer. He was still very annoying, but his answer seemed right, plus he’d explained his reasoning clearly. But she didn’t get carried away with good feelings about Dave. He was still a miserable, unpleasant boy who was forcing her to get involved in a pointless contest.

It’s also a shame to have to report this, but Lynsey was just as proud and stubborn as Dave.And since he had pushed her into this fight, she felt it was her duty to push back—and she saw the perfect way to do it.

She turned away and whispered something to the girls at her lunch table, and when they all nodded their heads, she turned back to Dave. She gestured toward her friends and said, “We want to make this contest harder. How about this: no talking at home, either. Or on the school bus, or anywhere else. No talking at all—except for what we already decided. Not even to parents. And let’s make the contest last for two days instead of one—two twenty-four-hour days in a row. Unless you think that’s too hard.”

Dave shrugged. “Fine, no problem. Except . . . how do we keep track of all the mess-ups when you and your friends start gabbing at home?”

“You mean, when the boys cheat?” said Lynsey.

“Simple. We’ll have to use the honor system when we’re not at school. It’s the only way. We all keep track of our own mistakes. And report them. Honestly. Except I don’t know if the boys can be trusted. Have any boys even heard of the honor system? I know you can trust the girls.”

“Don’t worry about us,” Dave said.

Lynsey tossed her head.“So when does the contest start? The girls can be ready by tomorrow. At lunchtime. Unless that’s too soon for the boys. Do you need more time to get organized? Like a week? Or two weeks?”

“Very funny,” said Dave. “We’ll start Tuesday, tomorrow. At the beginning of lunch. And it’s not over until Thursday ...how about at twelve fifteen? That’ll be the middle of lunch period.” Lynsey nodded, and Dave went on. “I’ll be the official score-keeper for our side, and you keep track for the girls. And no cheating. Okay?”

Lynsey nodded again.“Agreed.” She held out her hand.

Dave looked at it like it was covered with slime. “What?” he said.

Lynsey wrinkled her nose. “It’s revolting, but we have to shake on it—so you won’t try to back out.”

Dave shook, and then made a show of wiping his

hand on his pants, which got a big laugh from the five or six other boys who had witnessed the ceremony.

And as Dave turned and went into a huddle with the guys at his lunch table, Lynsey did the same with the girls at her table.

The contest was on.