I started the second period on the bottom, again—where I wasn’t very confident and didn’t know enough moves. It didn’t take long for Mr. Mat Rat to flatten me to my belly with my arms yanked back again. This time he not only made my shoulder feel like it was going to come off, but when he had me on my back he wrapped his legs around my head and squeezed. I found out later that this thing with his legs was called a figure four. I thought my head was going to pop like a pimple. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. I only got out because the whistle blasted for the end of the second period. There was a God, and he didn’t want me to die. But wait … there are three periods in a wrestling match.
Fortunately, I started the third period on top. The only thing I knew was that bar arm, so I tried it and I did it my hardest. The last thing I wanted was to let this kid get on top of me again. I managed to get him to his belly and I pulled his arm back. That’s when I heard his father screaming, “Get up!” But I held him down until the whistle sounded. I couldn’t turn him over, but I didn’t let him budge. That wasn’t good enough for that boy’s father. He kept yelling at his kid for not getting away.
I looked over at my dad and saw him sitting against the wall reading a book, something about quantum physics. He had his glasses perched across his nose, and his pocket protector and pens poked up from his shirt. I had a father like Stanley Yelnats’s, and I was so proud of that. I felt sorry for the boy I had wrestled.
CONCLUSION
—Being a geek is in my blood, but I don’t think being a wrestler is.
Detective Luke
march
The next wrestling practice was something Peter and I looked forward to, but not Luke. He decided wrestling wasn’t his thing after just one try. It was funny listening to him retell his experience. It was on a day when the three of us sat together at lunch.
“Hey, Luke,” I said. “Peter and I are going to wrestling tonight. Do you want to come?”
Luke shook his head. “No thanks! I need to save my brain and body for the future.”
“Maybe you should try it again,” Peter said. “You can’t be the best at everything your first time.”
Luke got excited. “Be the best! I’m never going to be the best at wrestling.” He planted his hands on the table and leaned across it. His butt wasn’t even in his chair anymore. “Did you see what that kid did to me? He squeezed my head so hard I thought my brain was going to ooze out through my ears!”
A speck of sandwich flew out of Luke’s mouth and stuck to Peter’s cheek. Luke was so revved up he didn’t even notice, and that’s saying something for Mr. Detective. Peter wiped the spit and food from his face and elbowed me in the ribs because I was laughing at him.
“Did you see what he did to me?!” Luke said again.
“Yes. Yes, we saw it,” I said. “He had a figure four on your head.”
“Yeah, after he almost ripped my arm off, he put a figure whatever on my head and tried to make it pop like a pimple.” Luke sat back down. “No thanks. I won’t be going back to wrestling practice.” He took another bite of his sandwich. This time it stayed in his mouth.
Peter and I looked at each other and chuckled. Good ol’ Lukester. We’d had a feeling wrestling wasn’t going to be for him, but we loved it. We went twice a week while Luke stuck to the Boy Scouts. He was working on his first-aid badge now.
Dad and I picked Peter up and gave him a ride to practice one night. Peter and I had been friends all along in class, give or take a few disagreements, but once wrestling became a part of our lives, we became buddies. We were good. Coach Terupt told us we were naturals.
During the scrimmaging there is always a bunch of yelling and shouting from the sidelines. Fathers and even some mothers sit on the edge screaming out encouragement and instruction. Most of the time I don’t hear anything. I sort of enter a different world as I’m wrestling and my mind goes blank, and even though it’s crazy loud in the gym, everything is silent to me. But that changed one night.
I was in the middle of a match when I heard a series of rapid, sharp clicks. Up to this point, I was undefeated. But when I heard that strange sound, I stopped wrestling, and before I knew it I was on my back. I quickly rolled to my belly and looked up to see what was making the noise. It was a woman. There was no mistaking her.
She stood on the side of the mat holding a piece of mail in her hand. She was all decked out in a business suit and high heels—which explained the clicking sound. She wasn’t far from where I lay on the mat, so I heard what she said.
“Your father’s in the car. He’d like to know what this is all about. And so would I.” She waved the mail in Peter’s face, her voice already beginning to rise. She was one mad lady.
The whistle blew, so I was able to get up. I walked over to Peter while all the other kids got ready for the next period.
“What’s that?” I said.
“Mind your own business, young man. This doesn’t concern you.”
“It’s from Riverway,” Peter said. “Mom and Dad want me to go there starting in seventh grade.”
“You mean you aren’t coming to school with us next year?”
Peter’s mom glared at me, then at Peter. “Peter will be attending Riverway, thank you. There is no choice. It’ll be the best thing for him.”
“The best thing?” Peter’s voice rose. “You don’t even know me!”
“That’s enough!” she scolded. “Get your things. We’re going to the car!”
Coach Terupt must have heard the commotion from across the mats because he joined us. “Hi, Mrs. Jacobs. I’m William Terupt, Peter’s teacher and wrestling coach. Why don’t we step outside so we don’t make a big scene.” Too late for that, I thought. Coach Terupt gently placed his hand on Mrs. Jacobs’s shoulder and led her toward the exit. On the way out he turned to my dad and asked him to give Peter a lift home.
Ask me how Coach Terupt got that wolverine-lady to submit, and I’ll tell you I have no idea. Must have been some virtual wrestling move.
I used to like silent car rides, but this one with Peter was awful. There was so much I wanted to ask and say to him, but I didn’t know how. I definitely preferred my rides to the center with Anna. She was easy to talk to, and better-looking too.
The whole wrestling experience had me distracted for a few days, so Exchange Day number two snuck up on me. It was here!
I entered the day anxious. I was excited to find out what Mr. Terupt had in store for us, but I was nervous about the unpredictable. As I already mentioned, any hypothesis needs to be tested more than once to be proven true, but I didn’t want to run another trial for this one. I expected another fight. I worried about Jeffrey’s tolerance and the comments of our soon-to-be-classmates. I hoped I was wrong, which was something I had never wanted before. I hoped it would go better this time—for everyone. I didn’t know it, but I should have been worrying more about Lexie than Jeffrey.
Once our guests were settled, Mr. Terupt welcomed them and went on to explain our day’s challenge. No stuttering or fights this time—so far so good.
“You’ll have the next hour and a half to work as a team. Your challenge is to build a boat that will float, but you may only use the materials provided,” Mr. Terupt announced. “Your boat must measure at least one meter by one meter,” he continued, “and you should also keep this in mind while building. If more than one craft floats, then we will add weight to each by placing sandbags on them until all but one sinks. The last boat afloat will be the winner.”
“Where will we test them?” Tommy asked. I was wondering the same thing.
Mr. Terupt smiled. “We won’t be trying to float them today. There’s still snow and ice out there. Instead, you will be participating in the first annual Float Your Boat Contest at next month’s Snow Hill Carnival.”
The mere mention of the carnival brought smiles and cheers from all of us, visitors included. The Snow Hill Carnival came to town once every two years, and it was always one of the best
weekends.
“Now that you’re all excited about the carnival, let’s make sure you have a boat to float,” Mr. Terupt reminded us. “Just a few more rules.”
He presented all the various items available: plastic bottles, straws, string, Styrofoam, meter sticks, rubber bands, tape, cardboard, and more. The catch was that each item had a price tag, and each group only had one hundred dollars in their imaginary budget. We needed to be smart about how we spent our pretend money. This, of course, was much easier than managing a wedding. I knew I could win this contest. I already had a genius idea for my vessel.
After all the instructions and rules, we were organized into teams. Then everyone spread out all over the classroom and even into the hall, so we had enough room to build. My group consisted of Lexie and two visiting boys, Derek and Jason. I got them positioned in the corner of the classroom, where I knew we’d have plenty of space. I needed to construct a large boat—one that could support extra weight.
“Have you ever taken a beach ball and forced it under the water?” I asked. “When you let go it jumps out. Why? Because of the air in the ball,” I explained. “For the same reason these capped bottles are going to keep our boat afloat.”
The boys weren’t listening, which was what I was secretly hoping for. And Lexie, well, one look at her and you knew what she was concerned about. She was focused on attracting the two boys. Derek and Jason were totally distracted by her. My group was perfect. I smiled and got to work.
To her credit, Lexie did help by handing me the materials I needed and by holding things in place for me after I got started. Derek and Jason were too busy joking around the whole time, whispering and snickering. I didn’t pay any attention to them until we were almost done, and they happened to have what I needed. When I looked over at Derek he had two water bottles stuck under his shirt. They looked like torpedoes coming out of his chest. He was posing for Jason.
“Derek, I need those last two bottles,” I said. I wasn’t bashful. I was a man on a mission, and my vessel was near perfection.
“Tell you what,” Derek said. “I’ll give you these bottles if Lexie can give me some of her tissues to blow my nose.”
At that, Derek and Jason really started cracking up and Lexie laughed right along with them. I didn’t know what tissues Derek was talking about, and I ran out of patience waiting for my bottles. The only person who looked as agitated as me was Peter. I saw him glaring at my group from across the room. He looked angry.
“Derek, the bottles,” I said, holding out my hand.
He reached under his shirt and tossed them to me, but then I needed his help holding things in place because Lexie had disappeared.
In the end, I constructed an interwoven lattice of capped water bottles connected by meter sticks. Our boat was almost as long and wide as I was tall. I had pieces of Styrofoam positioned throughout the middle. This was where the weight would be added. The idea was that by having the bottles of air spread out, we’d have a large enough surface area to keep the vessel and additional weight afloat.
I couldn’t wait for the Snow Hill Carnival. The Float Your Boat Contest was going to be intense, but I was feeling confident.
QUESTIONS
—Will my boat win?
—Where is Lexie?
—And what tissues is Derek talking about?
Detective Luke
Today was key. It was our second Exchange Day. The first one didn’t go exactly as I had planned, so I, like, needed to give it another shot. But I was feeling positive. This time I brought a roll of toilet paper from home. The school TP is one huge roll that doesn’t tear easily, and it’s very thin. It’s impossible to work with. My roll from home was softer and fluffier, and much easier to shape.
Last time I had a few boys eyeing me before Jeffrey went ahead and tackled Derek. And then when things moved to the squid dissection I had boys fighting to get at my table, but the squid smell made me sick and I puked all over the place. Like, how pathetic. At least my stuffed bra gave me toilet paper to wipe my mouth with on my way to the nurse. I was hoping for better results this time around. I might have been done at the hangout, but that didn’t mean I was done trying to get boys to look at me.
It wasn’t Jessica who found me getting ready in front of the bathroom mirror this time, but the woman in our class—Danielle. “Lexie, what in the world are you—Huh!” she gasped.
“Calm down, Danielle. Everything’s okay.” I cupped and shaped my chest. “Just think of it as me dressing up,” I said. “You know I like to do that.” I looked in the mirror and gave myself a final adjustment. As Jessica would say, they looked abundant. To me, they looked perfect. In the glass, past my reflection, I saw Danielle with her head down in the midst of a prayer. I hoped she was telling God to get busy and help me start developing. I knew God would understand. After all, Margaret had prayed to him about this stuff.
During the exchange, I ended up in a group with Luke and two other boys, Derek and Jason. Luke was a man of science. He didn’t miss details, so he noticed me right away. But being a science geek, he didn’t pay any attention to my efforts either.
As for the other two boys, one was the kid Jeffrey had tackled, and the other was a wimp. Just my luck. They shot secret glances at me, but neither said a word, and they wouldn’t make eye contact.
With nothing else to do, I decided to start helping Luke. Big mistake! Helping meant bending and twisting and reaching to get materials. My first warning came when I turned to grab another water bottle and I felt my boobs shift. Suddenly I had one up by my collarbone and the other closer to my belly button. I froze. I couldn’t turn back around and let them see me like this.
“Lexie, do you have that other water bottle?” Luke asked.
I tossed the bottle behind me without spinning around. Then I quickly realigned my chest. I was fast and no one noticed a thing. Or so I hoped. But Derek and Jason started whispering and snickering even more. I knew they were making fun of me—or was I being paranoid? They still weren’t making eye contact.
My second warning came when I bent forward to hold something in place for Luke and my left side got flattened against part of our boat. This wasn’t a quick fix. I tried a sneaky cup-and-squeeze attempt before sitting up, but I was stuck with a lopsided alien-looking chest. What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t run to the bathroom and take them off! That would have been worse.
I tried leaning forward to help Luke again, hoping that would shield my horror. But this time my right side got crunched. This was going from bad to worse, with the worst yet to come. Now I had lumpy and lopsided boobs. I sat up and tried to give myself a quick readjustment, but it was too late. I looked over and saw Derek with two water bottles under his shirt. He was pretending they were breasts. He finally made eye contact with me.
“How do these look, Lexie? They might work better for you.”
He and Jason started cracking up. I tried smiling and laughing with them.
Then a clueless Luke spoke up. “Derek, I need those last two bottles.”
It wasn’t Luke’s fault. He was just trying to finish his boat.
“Tell you what,” Derek said. “I’ll give you these bottles if Lexie will give me some of her tissues to blow my nose.”
Then Derek and Jason lost it. They thought they were sooo funny. They gave Luke the last two bottles he needed and kept laughing. I didn’t know what had happened. I couldn’t feel the disaster. The toilet paper under my left side had sprung free and poked up from under my cami. They saw it! A nightmare! I tried laughing along with them again, acting cool, playing it off, but I couldn’t keep it up. Luke went back to work and I hurried to get the bathroom pass.
Derek and Jason were jerks. They were about as mean as could be. Having them laugh at me hurt. I can’t believe I used to be mean like that to people. I’m lucky to have friends now. They came to my rescue.
FADE IN: Camera moves in on LEXIE. She is sitting with her team during Exchange Day number two. She’s
wearing a pretty cami with a short skirt and black leggings. We see her inflated chest. She has her abundant look again.
JESSICA VO
Looking at Lexie, I’m reminded of someone I’d rather forget. If she changed her top to white, put on fire-engine-red lipstick and nail polish, and kept the big hoop earrings, she’d be Dad’s bimbo—the woman he left me and Mom for. I wonder if Dad’s bimbo was like Lexie at our age. I don’t like these thoughts because I like Lexie.
CUT TO: CU of LEXIE. She throws her head back and laughs up at the ceiling. She bends forward, still laughing, but her hands quickly move to her neck region. CU of LEXIE’s hands stuffing something back under her top. Camera pulls back as LEXIE sits up. There isn’t anything showing, but we see her wet eyes. LEXIE gets up and hurries out of the classroom.
CUT TO: JESSICA entering the bathroom. We find LEXIE sitting against the wall, her knees pulled close to her chest and her face in her hands. JESSICA sits down next to LEXIE.
JESSICA
I’m sorry, Lexie.
LEXIE is crying. JESSICA wraps an arm around her.
JESSICA
Those boys are evil, Lex. You don’t want to bother with them.
LEXIE
(sniffling)
I just want to be good at something. I thought I could be good at getting the boys to like me.
JESSICA
You don’t have to try so hard. They’re going to like you—everyone does.
LEXIE
If I don’t try, they won’t even notice me.
JESSICA
Lexie, I know you want the boys to like you, but you want them to like you for who you are, not your you-know-whats. You’ll never get any respect that way. You want to be like Ms. Newberry.
JESSICA VO
I sounded like my mother. I was simply repeating what she had told me a long time ago. She claims Dad will realize his mistake someday.