One day at lunch, I made the mistake of sitting too close to Madison and her friends.
One of the girls, Janet, walked by and squirted juice on the seat next to me. Then she started yelling at me to clean up my mess. That got the attention of the lunch monitor. I guess the girls didn’t want to get in trouble because Madison stood up and said, “I’ll get some napkins.” But Janet told her, “No. It’s Eliza’s mess,” and Madison sat back down.
When I was getting the napkins, the girls filled my lunch bag with trash.
But that wasn’t even the worst thing. Once we had a sub in social studies who let us spend the hour talking and playing Hangman. The girls were giggling over a note. I asked what was so funny, but they wouldn’t tell me. Tony swiped the note, which was written in this big, loopy handwriting. Madison had written that I should be called Every Day Eliza because I wore the same clothes to school every day. She swore she didn’t write it, but I knew it was her. And I’d never, ever forget the way she’d dotted her i’s with big swirls instead of dots. Most of her friends just put dumb hearts or stars. But I guess Madison just had to be different.
Even though Tony crumpled the note and threw it away, word got around. I tried to explain that I like to wear the same worn-in clothes because I want to be comfortable. I can’t stand tags or itchy material. But no one paid attention. And pretty soon everyone was calling me Every Day Eliza.
I tried to laugh.
I tried to pretend it didn’t bother me.
I begged and begged until I convinced Mom to take me shopping for a few new outfits. But the name still stuck like a rash.
People say you can’t judge a book by its cover, but I say when it’s shelved in the Mean Girl section you don’t have to check it out to know it’s gonna stink.