After school Mrs. Stricker sent me to the cafeteria for detention, where Mr. Adell, the janitor, was waiting with a bucket full of bacteria and a sponge.
“You’re supposed to wipe down the tables,” he said, handing me the sponge.
“What’s in there?” I asked, looking at the bucket.
“Water and disinfectant,” Mr. Adell said.
That wasn’t what it smelled like, but I had to take his word for it. I started in on the tables. They were even grosser than the desks had been. Did you know that ketchup can get stuck to a table like glue? Did you realize that a spilled smoothie turns into an oozy jelly? Or that chocolate milk will become a solid if left out all day? Neither did I!
How very educational.
What could be worse than spending time with bacteria?
Having Missy Trillin watch me spend time with bacteria. She and her sidekicks sat huddled in one corner of the lunchroom, planning the school dance. They were listening to an eighth grader lay out the plans for decorations and refreshments. When I heard Missy say the older girl’s name, I stopped in my tracks.
When Rafe was at HVMS, he had an imaginary friend. Of course, I am talking about none other than Jeanne Galletta. Oh, she’s real, all right—and she was sitting with Missy at that very moment. But I don’t think she and Rafe were really friends. I know for sure that Rafe would’ve liked to be better friends with Jeanne. He was always saying that Jeanne was so sweet and kind and smart and hardworking and well dressed (like he would know). I figured I’d spot Jeanne on my very first day at HVMS, floating down from the ceiling with white robes fluttering around her, strumming a harp and showing off her glowing halo.
But it turns out that Jeanne must just be a regular eighth grader, because I never would’ve picked her out of a lineup.
Jeanne just sat there, talking to the Princesses like they were normal people. Maybe they’re her friends, I thought as I cleaned a table in the far corner. Missy said something, and the others—even Jeanne—laughed. Are they giggling about me? I wondered. Even perfect Jeanne Galletta is picking on me now.
I went to find Mr. Adell. “I’m finished,” I told him, holding out the bucket.
“Did you clean that one?” he asked, pointing to the table where the Princesses sat. I could feel their glares from across the room.
My stomach did a flip, then tied itself into a knot. “No.”
He shrugged. “Then you’re not done.”
I gulped. This detention is cruel and unusual punishment, I thought as I dragged myself over to the Princesses.
“What do you want?” Missy demanded.
“I’m supposed to wipe down your table,” I said, holding up my bucket.
“Ew,” Missy said. “What’s that—your shampoo?” Brittany and Bethany howled as if that was the best joke in the history of humankind. Even Jeanne laughed.
She laughed! Where’s your angel now, Rafe? I thought. I should have known he had rotten taste in girls.
“I like your green hair,” Jeanne said.
Missy smiled smugly. “Yeah, it’s very eco-friendly.”
“The alien look is totally in,” Brittany agreed.
“Beam me up, Georgia,” Bethany added. Missy gave her a high five.
Great. Now there were four princesses instead of three. Even more witty remarks to ruin my life! “Can I just clean this table?” I snapped.
“We’ll move,” Jeanne said, gathering her things. “Let’s sit over there,” she said, pointing to a table by the window. “The only thing left to plan is the Battle of the Bands.”
The itty-bitty dance committee looked at one another, then gathered their things to follow. I guess even Missy wasn’t going to mess with Jeanne.
Is there a new queen at HVMS? I wondered.
I turned my back on them as I wiped down my last table. Why did Rafe ever like Jeanne, anyway? She’s just like the rest of them—underneath that bouncy hair, she has a mean streak a mile wide.