Grosse Pointe Girl Tales from a Suburban Adolescence

Chapter 2: The Battle of Brownell I am drafted, deployed to Brownell Middle School, and wounded within three days. The hit comes just after the last bell rings at three-fifteen P.M. I am walking down the stairway that curves around to the main lobby. My face is buried in a note Katrina passed to me before I walked into science, with Mr. Mariaki (who made it clear in no uncertain terms that he'd read any intercepted note out loud)."Emma, you are SO lucky that you don't have Miss Cabott for English. She is SO boring. I can barely keep my eyes open. Zzzzzz. I can't believe I have nine more months of this. How will I survive?"While I concentrate on my first official note from my new best friend, I'm oblivious to the approach of a brigade of sixth-grade boys led by Brian Van Eden. I've been at Brownell less than a week but Katrina has already tipped me off to his rank and file: you cannot get any higher. At first, I don't even realize he's talking to me. He never has before. But when I don't respond, he blocks my path, demanding my attention, his brown eyes two smug soldiers that never seem to flinch."Will you go with me?" he asks again.But what I hear is "Will you go with me?," as if nobody else will help him on his mysterious journey. And before I can think about it any further, I answer what I think is a geography question."Where?"It's just one word.The boys pause for a second. Nobody rejects an offer like that from Brian Van Eden. When they realize that I didn't say no, that I just simply don't know what the hell they're talking about, that I am, oh God, uncool, the laughter is sharp and long as they scatter down the hallway to get as far from me as possible.I'm still standing in the same spot when Katrina finds me five minutes later, the school now completely empty except for the janitor with his cleaning cart, sprinkling powdered soap on the linoleum floor."Where have you been?" she asks, chewing on a piece of red licorice. "We were supposed to meet by the bike racks." She's not mad, she's just stating the facts. "You want one?" she says, offering me the open pack. I never refuse candy unless it has coconut in it.She lowers her voice immediately. "What happened?""It's bad," I manage, the first words out of my mouth since my fatal Where?"How bad?" Katrina says.I shake my head.She changes her line of questioning. "Okay. Who?""Brian.""Brian Van Eden?" she says in a high-pitched whisper, like how my aunt Carol talked about "the cancer" before Grandpa died.It's like I have "the cancer."It's like I'm dead."You said, 'Where?'"Brian Van Eden's best friend, Tim Osborne, is in four of my six classes. The day after the incident, he begins with me during the homeroom announcements. In fifth-period math, he's still pursuing the issue while Mr. Houston scribbles formulas on the blackboard, his back turned to the class, chalk dust gathering on the edge of his hand."I said, 'What?,'" I tell him. It's the lie Katrina came up with.We copy down the lesson on the board so we don't get caught talking.15 - x = 5. What is x? "No, you said, 'Where?' I was there. I heard you." He laughs.y + 11= 13. What is y?"No, I didn't. I said 'What?' I didn't hear what Brian asked."x -y = Where.x + y= What.The solution to this problem will remain unsolved for the next three years.I should have known better. After all, I'd had almost three weeks of training.Katrina and I had spent the last days of summer riding our bikes around town, from the moment we were released from our morning chores until we could see the fireflies. I quickly learned the lay of the land. Jacobson's department store was in the Village but the Over the Rainbow ice-cream shop was in the Hill. Schettler's drugstore was the easiest for stealing lipstick but Perry's had a better selection. Some days,McCandless, Sarah Grace is the author of 'Grosse Pointe Girl Tales from a Suburban Adolescence', published 2004 under ISBN 9780743256124 and ISBN 0743256123.