Though the sun was shining and the weather was warm and pleasant, Q showed up to school the next day wearing earmuffs.

The fluffy kind, with spots like they were made from Dalmatian fur.

“Hey, doofus girl, moving to Alaska?” Kiki said with a huge laugh as the ThreePees cruised over to our lunch table.

“Or Hawaii?” said Sofes, trying to really rub it in.

I swear that girl would need fifty free bonus points to score fifty-one on an IQ test.

Kiki sat down next to me. “I understand you ladies joined the talent contest,” she said.

“Remember, Keek, they’re calling it an Aptitude Demonstration this year,” said Brittany-Brattany, taking a seat as well. “They want to be all politically correct.”

“Whatever,” replied Kiki. “The point is, you dud-o-las don’t actually think you have a chance of winning, do you?”

“Yeah, do you?” asked Sofes.

Kiki reached for a piece of my bubble gum. I had brought four packs to school to eat after my apple. Trying to cut down on the caloric intake and all.

She put a piece of my gum in her mouth and then blew a bubble to taunt me.

“I mean, you must realize that you have no chance,” she added.

“Oh yeah?” I said, and then I blew a bubble of my own right back at her.

“Yeah,” she replied, and then she blew another bubble, this time slightly bigger, back at me.

I reached over, took another piece of bubble gum out of the pack, and put it in my mouth so I could add a little more bulk to my bubble.

I chewed and chewed, getting past that first wave of sugar.

“Oh yeah?” I said, and then I blew a big bubble, the kind that was definitely intended to send a message.

Beanpole smiled. Brattany and Sofes stared at Kiki, waiting for her to make the next move.

Kiki, not to be outdone, reached for two more pieces of gum. She chewed to get it soft.

“Oh, you think so, do you?” said Kiki, and she blew a mammoth bubble.

Aw, heck no, I said to myself. This wench doesn’t want to get into a bubble blowin’ contest with me.

That’s when I opened the second pack and plunked three pieces of fresh gum into my mouth.

It took me a minute to chew and chew and chew to get it all soft. There was so much sugar in my throat, I had to gulp it down twice.

Allergy Alice looked up as I was chewing. Our eyes met. I could see she really wanted me, needed me, to nail this victory. And the fact that she was wearing those silly Dalmatian earmuffs was kinda my fault anyway. I mean, if it hadn’t been for my stupid brother, well…I owed her this one and I wasn’t gonna let her down.

I began to blow.

And blow and blow and blow. It was the biggest bubble I’d ever created. It was bigger than the first one I had blown, bigger than Kiki’s bubble, bigger than my whole, entire head.

It was the biggest bubble ever blown on the campus of Grover Park Middle School, I was sure of it.

Take that! I thought.

Pop! Kiki reached out and stuck her finger into my bubble. Gum exploded all over my face. It went past my chin, around my ears, and into my hair.

Kiki and her pet donkies stood up as I sat there with a face covered in pink goo.

“Remember,” said Kiki, “we always win.”

Brattany took out her camera and snapped a photo of me —click! Sofes gave a little airhead giggle. A moment later, they walked away.

“Son-of-a-no-good-mother-frazzler-nufkin…”

“You had her, Maureen. Nice job! You had her!” Beanpole exclaimed.

“Excuse me?” I said. “In case you’re not aware, my cranium is covered in chewing gum.”

“No, she’s right,” said Q. “You had her. And for a minute, she was scared. Did you see the look on Brattany’s face? She was nervous. Them witches”—Wheeesh-whooosh. Wheeeshwhooosh—“we got ’em on the run.”

On the run? I thought. I might have to shave my head.

“Ooh, we’re gonna get ’em.”

“And it’s about time.”

I’d never seen Beanpole and Q so excited. I stood up.

“Hey, where’re you goin’?” asked Beanpole.

“Oh, nowhere,” I replied. “I mean, I guess I should just sit here WITH A HEAD COVERED IN SUGARY GOOP FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE!”

I screamed. They stared. For a moment it was silent.

Finally, Q spoke.

“You’re”—Wheeesh-whooosh. Wheeesh-whooosh—“funny,” she said as she readjusted her earmuffs.

I shook my head and stood to walk away. Then I stopped. Of course, who else?

Logan Meyers. All smiles at the pink-faced bubble gum girl with chewing gunk in her ear holes.

At least my relationship with Logan wasn’t one of those up’n’-down rocky ones. I mean, we were steady as a cuckoo clock. I would show up at school, the ThreePees would embarrass me, and the silent, secret supercrush of my life would get a huge laugh-his-butt-off chuckle every day during lunch.

That’s the key to strong relationships, you know. Consistency.