On Monday morning, I was so excited to show my 100 Days group that the petition was almost full. I did a little dance to the jazz music Miss Mabel was playing very softly from her desk.
“Ta-DA!” I cried. “Ninety-eight signatures!”
“How’d you get all those?” asked Minnie.
“I guess I just have a way with words.” I grinned from ear to ear.
I turned to Matt. “So you only need to get two signatures. You can handle that, can’t you?”
Matt rolled his hazel eyes.
“Yes, I think I can handle that,” he said very sarcastically.
And I believed him. After all, anyone could have gotten two signatures. I could have gotten two signatures on a totally deserted island, for crying out loud!
But I was wrong.
The next day, on Tuesday, we got into our 100 Days groups—well, all of us except Minnie. She had to leave school early to get ready for her big recital. Miss Mabel walked over to our group and asked to see our project so far. That’s when Matt told us there was a problem.
“Just a little one,” he said.
But there is no such thing as a little problem when you’re dealing with Matthew Sawyer.
“You didn’t get the signatures! I knew it!” I exclaimed.
“Of course I got the signatures!” Matt replied. “The petition is all done! The problem is … well, I, uh…” He started rubbing the back of his head.
“Oh no!” I cried. “You forgot it at home!”
Matt stared down at the floor, but this time, it wasn’t because he was looking for water bugs. It was because he was about to cry. I could tell because his face was red and his eyes were all wet. I had never seen Matthew Sawyer cry before, and even though he was my enemy, I felt really bad for him.
“It’s okay, Matt,” said Miss Mabel. She put her hand on his shoulder.
“I’m really sorry,” he said to her, with a quivery voice. “I don’t know how I forgot it this morning. I was reading this really good book about parasites, and I was so into it, I guess the project just slipped my mind.”
“It’s all right!” chirped Cora. “Everyone makes mistakes!”
“Yeah, but I make mistakes all the time,” Matt said. His voice was so soft I could hardly hear him. “I don’t mean to. My mom says I just get distracted.”
I was surprised to see Matt look so miserable. I had no idea he felt so bad when he forgot stuff. He always made jokes, which made me think he didn’t care. I felt sorry for giving him a hard time about his mistakes, and I just really wanted to make him feel better.
“Are you using that checklist I made for you? To help you remember what to bring from home?” asked Miss Mabel.
“I would use it,” he said, sniffing, “except I can’t find it.”
“Well, I think you need a new checklist,” she said. “Is there someone who can help you make another one?”
Matt wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. He shrugged.
That’s when I got a huge brain wave! I gasped loudly. Gasping is a specialty of mine.
“I know someone who can help!” I cried. “My brother, Jude! He writes lists in his sleep. Seriously. He has dreams of the lists he wants to make.”
“Is he the fourth grader that keeps reorganizing the Lost and Found box?” Miss Mabel asked.
I nodded.
“He does seem like the perfect guy for the job,” she said.
Matt did not look so convinced, but Miss Mabel told him that his homework that night was to make a good, solid checklist with Jude. So he had no choice.
“This is perfect!” I said after Miss Mabel left. “Ezra is coming over after school, and Cora, too. So we can have a whole Fix-It Friends meeting to help you.”
I thought Matt would be very happy and oh-so-thankful. He was not.
“I’m not broken.” Matt scowled. “I don’t need to be fixed.”
“We don’t fix people!” said Cora. “Just problems that people have.”
“Like how you get distracted and forget stuff,” I said.
“You’re right,” he said. “I have a huge forgetting problem. So I wouldn’t be surprised if I forgot to come to your house after school.”
I sighed really loudly. Matt was already back to driving me bonkers.
“If you let the Fix-Its help you, I promise that I will never stomp on a water bug again.”
“Never?” he asked.
“Well, at least not for the rest of second grade.”
He thought about it for a second.
“And do you promise never to tell that offensive joke again?” he asked.
“Oh, for crying out loud!” I exclaimed. “It’s not offensive!”
“What joke is it?” asked Cora.
“What lies dead on its back, one hundred feet up in the air?” I asked.
“I give up,” said Cora.
“A centipede!”
Cora and I giggled, but Matt crossed his arms and glowered at us.
“It’s offensive to centipedes,” he said.
“Okay, okay,” I said. “I’ll stop telling the joke. So will you come over?”
“Fine,” he grumbled. “But I hope your brother is not as annoying as you.”
That made me laugh so hard, I couldn’t breathe.
“Oh, just you wait,” I told him.