Throw a Pity Party
I stared at the four elective lists.
Three of them were full.
The only one left with an opening was veterinary medicine.
A vein in my forehead started to twitch as I stood there clenching and unclenching my fists. My chin quivered and I willed the brimming tears in my eyes not to fall. They didn’t obey me and flowed down my cheeks, mixing with the dried orange juice and sticky syrup.
I scrawled my name on the last line of the vet med list and threw the pen into the bushes. I certainly didn’t feel like playing Tacos and Burritos anymore. I just wanted to be alone, but I knew everyone was waiting for me by the lake. More than anything, I needed a shower—insects were beginning to buzz around me.
I trudged back to the cabin and grabbed my shower caddy and towel. Luckily, since it was free time, no one else was there to hear me cry in the shower as the events of the morning sank in. I couldn’t take the cake decorating class, which meant I couldn’t work for Mrs. Peghiny, which meant I couldn’t earn money, which meant I couldn’t buy a new bike, which meant I was going to be a total dorkapotamus when school started. I pictured myself wearing T-shirts with Losers Unite scrawled across the front and hanging out under the school bleachers with other kids whose bikes dated back to their toddlerhood.
My life was ruined—and I was only twelve.
After I got dressed, I washed my clothes out in the sink (I didn’t want the orange juice stain to set) before hanging them up in a shower stall to drip dry. I sat on the edge of my bunk and reached to the bottom of my sleeping bag for Mr. Snuffles. Holding him through the Ziploc bag didn’t make me feel any better. I tucked him back into the sleeping bag and left to break the news to my friends.
I found Pogo first. She was slapping sunscreen on her freckled arms as I walked up.
“Hey, why aren’t you in your suit?” She squinted, either from the bright sun or from the fact that her glasses weren’t on. “Your hair’s wet. I know my eyesight isn’t the greatest, but even I would’ve seen you if you’d already been swimming.” She laughed at her own joke but stopped when she saw my expression. “What’s wrong?”
“I didn’t get cake decorating.”
“What?” Her mouth flew open. She actually stopped bouncing for once. “But you were right behind me. What happened?”
“Queen Victoria happened.” I filled her in on the details.
Pogo stared at me. “No!”
I nodded, and the more I told her, the redder her face became.
“Victoria Radamoskovich is such a jerk!” she stammered out. “Did you tell Coach Fox or Director Mudwimple?”
“No one was around by the time I made it out there. Plus, Victoria’s right. I can’t prove she did it on purpose. It’d be her word against mine.”
Pogo put her arm around me and pulled me in for a hug. “I am so sorry. If I’d known about Victoria, I would have risked signing your name for you.”
I scowled. “I’ll get even with her. All I need is a large bowl of mashed potatoes, a squeegee, and some duct tape.”
Pogo raised an eyebrow. “Not really sure how those three work together, but I’d suggest not doing anything. What goes around, comes around. You don’t want to get yourself in trouble.”
Nathan and Sebastian sloshed from the lake to where we stood on the pier and Pogo told them everything. Sebastian said something in Spanish. I wasn’t totally sure what it was, but Pogo told me later she thought it involved a slug and some salt.
Nathan winced. “That bites.”
His sympathy made me feel a little better.
“So which elective did you end up with?” Pogo asked.
I flopped my arms at my side. “Veterinary medicine. Maybe your invention idea of a new lock for King Arthur will come in handy—although you can bet Victoria’s cupcakes I won’t be choosing him for my animal.”