FRANKIE KEPT HER LIPS SEALED at school. She wasn’t going to tell anyone about her invention until the day of the presentations. So the next morning, when Ms. Cupid handed out a new graphic organizer, Frankie dutifully filled it out. The worksheet was divided into five sections: size, costs, habitat, food, and fun facts. Frankie brought it back up to Ms. Cupid, who smiled and said, “Frankie has finished, so she can be a helper. If you need help, raise your hand.”
Frankie beamed. She usually took a long time to finish classwork, so she didn’t get to be a helper very often. Only when they used computers to make things, because she was fast with those. But never for reading and writing. She wished that Ms. Cupid had a badge that she could wear. It would be shaped like a star and would say GRAPHIC ORGANIZER on it in glittery letters—probably purple ones, since Ms. Cupid loved purple.
“Frankie,” Ms. Cupid whispered, popping her dream bubble. “I think Maya could use some help.”
“Maya?” Frankie asked with a frown.
“Yes,” Ms. Cupid answered.
Clearly, Ms. Cupid didn’t know that Maya and Frankie were having a fight. But you couldn’t just say no to a teacher, so Frankie walked across the room. She walked very slowly, touching each tile along the way and checking in with everyone she passed. Finally she had no choice but to sit down at the table next to Maya. “Ms. Cupid says I need to help you.”
Maya looked up sharply, first at Frankie and then at Ms. Cupid. “I’m fine,” Maya replied. “I don’t need any help.”
Maya’s graphic organizer, though, was empty. “You look like you could use some help,” Frankie told her.
Across the room Ravi wrote furiously on his paper. Frankie wondered what animal he was writing about. Had he really gone back to Team Gecko? Didn’t he want a rat too? Maybe the whole class was going to turn against her!
“This website says the betta fish lives two to three years,” Maya told her, pointing at the computer screen. “But I don’t know where to write that on here.”
“In three years we’ll be in middle school,” Frankie replied.
“So?” Maya asked. “I still think it’s important for Ms. Cupid to know.”
Frankie thought about this. She supposed it was important for Ms. Cupid to know what she was getting into. Rats lived for two to three years, but the world-record rat had lived for more than seven years. “Short is good. Ms. Cupid is a young teacher now, but in twenty years she’ll be ancient,” Frankie explained. “She won’t want a pet that lives that long.”
“But it will be sad for her when it dies,” Maya said. “It will be sad for all of us, but it will be especially sad for her.”
“You’re right,” Frankie agreed. Maya was always very smart about this sort of thing, which was one of the reasons why Frankie was so grateful to have Maya as a friend. Except that right now they weren’t really friends. That thought sank in Frankie’s belly like a lead weight. She helped Maya write down all the other information she needed to gather about betta fish: what they ate, what kind of water they needed, that sort of thing.
“Wait. It says there can only be one betta fish in a tank. Otherwise they fight.” Maya looked glum. “I really wanted to get two fish at least. I know other people did too. No one’s going to vote for just one fish.”
Now both Maya and Frankie were glum. Plus, Frankie wasn’t sure if they had made up or not. Maya still really wanted a betta fish—Frankie knew that much. And she still wanted a rat—that wasn’t going to change. It all made Frankie’s stomach twist and gurgle, and she let out a small burp.
“Excuse me,” she whispered, but not before Lila looked over and sneered, “Gross!”
“Psst!”
Frankie looked up. It was Ravi. She met him over by the pencil sharpener, grateful for the excuse to get away from Maya and Lila’s table. “Ben says he wants a rodent too. He wants a gerbil, but he can be convinced to go for a rat if we give him three chocolate-chip cookies.”
“Are you back on Team Rat?” Frankie asked.
“Basically, I just really don’t want a fish. I’m playing the odds and think rat has a better chance than a gecko,” Ravi replied.
“Where are we going to get three chocolate-chip cookies?” Frankie asked.
Ravi shrugged. “They shouldn’t be that hard to procure.”
Frankie liked that Ravi used words like “procure,” which was basically a fancy word for “get.”
“Who else do you think we can get on board?” Frankie asked.
“Can you convince Maya?”
Frankie looked over at Maya, who was studying the computer screen with a furrowed brow. “Maybe,” Frankie said, but it was a big maybe. A long shot, really.
“Frankie and Ravi, please get back to your work,” Ms. Cupid called to them from across the room. “I’m pretty sure those pencils are sharpened.”
“You work on Maya, and I’ll try to get Luke. Okay?” Ravi said.
“Okay,” Frankie agreed, and hurried back to Maya’s table. “Find anything else out?” she asked.
“They come to the surface to gulp air. And the water needs to be warm. They’re a tropical fish.”
“Sounds hot,” Frankie replied. “Listen, I was thinking about what you said about bettas only being able to have one fish in a tank. I think you’re right. I mean, one rat would be okay because they’re just interesting on their own, but one fish, what would it do? Just swim around?”
“I read that you can actually put a floating mirror in, and then it thinks it’s another fish and tries to attack it. It’s a way to get exercise.”
“Really?” Frankie asked. That actually seemed kind of cool. She wondered if she could make other exercise equipment for a fish. Like maybe a tube for it to swim through. She bet she could make all sorts of cool stuff for a rat. That reminded her that she needed to stay on mission. “Well, so I was thinking maybe the betta isn’t a great idea after all.”
Maya frowned. “That’s what I’m afraid of. But they’re so pretty!”
“Pretty isn’t everything,” Frankie said. “In fact, pretty gets pretty boring, pretty quick.”
“Listen, you’ve done all this work, so definitely present the betta tomorrow. But maybe when it comes time to vote, since betta fish won’t win anyway, you could vote for rat?”
“I don’t really like rodents, Frankie. They kind of scare me.”
“Scare you? That’s ridiculous! There’s nothing scary about rodents. Especially not rats. You’re just being silly.”
“I’m not being silly. Everyone is afraid of something. You’re afraid of clowns.”
“That’s because clowns are scary. But rodents aren’t. You just need to spend some time with them. Maybe you could come with me to visit my Aunt Gina at her work. She’s got like a hundred rodents. Maybe even a thousand.”
“Listen, no one is going to vote for the betta. You shouldn’t throw your vote away. Just vote for the rat, okay? If you’re really my best friend, you’ll do it.”
Maya looked like she was considering it, but then Lila leaned over the table. “I’ve seen a lot of low things, Frankie Sparks, but this takes the cake.”
“What do you mean?”
“Trying to convince Maya that her idea is a bad one so that she’ll vote for yours instead. I thought you guys were best friends.”
That made Frankie’s stomach tie itself into a huge knot. Of course she and Maya were best friends. And she was just trying to look out for Maya and be honest, wasn’t she?
But then Maya said, “Yeah, Frankie. I thought we were best friends.” Frankie’s insides slumped to the floor. There was nothing worse than having your best friend think you were no kind of friend at all.
