indentation I had made in her, and the next thing
I knew, I was in the office again, preparing the
excuse that was going to go in my permanent
record.
57
Aunt Carol is there in the office now, of
course, which I figured meant that Mom would hear
about it even sooner.
I could imagine the scene pretty clearly.
She’d be all, “Jamie smashed into Bruntford today
and got stuck in her a little, and it’s one of the
main things that indicates that she will probably
steal cars and go to prison someday. Also it’s
going to cost a lot of money to get the indentation
smoothed out of Bruntford.”
But that’s not what happened. All Aunt Carol
did was read the note that Bruntford had given me,
smile, and say “Slow down, hotshot.” And then she
THREW IT IN THE TRASH!! Just like that. The
offense had been erased.
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“Don’t you have to tell Assistant Principal
Devon?” I whispered, as I knew we were doing crime.
“I’ll tell him. It’s fine. Don’t worry,” she said,
and she winked the same wink that Mom winks when
she’s going to make something magically disappear
before Dad finds out — like the time I used his
electric razor to make Chihuahuas out of all my
stuffed animals.
59
I thought about this all day; my aunt’s power
to make teachers’ notes vanish, and I decided to
never ever
ever
reveal it to Isabella. If Isabella
knew that I had this awesome ability, there is no
telling what she might do.
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Tuesday 17
Dear Dumb Diary,
I told Isabella all of it.
I know, I may have said that I might not
tell her, but I couldn’t hold out any longer. And it
was the right thing to do, because I really don’t
think that she will ever try to take advantage of
it because all she did was smile a little and then
mutter something and twist her hands together,
and that does not NECESSARLY mean anything
sinister.
61
At lunch today, while Isabella and I were
discussing just who at our school should be
crated up and dropped on an island far, far away,
Angeline, who coincidentally was the first one we
had crated up, squirmed over to me and did that
thing where somebody grabs you by the shoulders
and makes little stampy stomps and shakes their
head around and squeals those happy, giggly,
shrill sounds that make puppies pee. You sort of
feel like you’ve been playfully mauled by a really
adorable grizzly. I don’t know what this maneuver
is called, but until you’ve had Angeline commit it
against you, you probably don’t realize that it could
easily kill a person who was not prepared for it.
Homicide by Happiness? Gigglecide?
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Fortunately, but with no explanation,
Angeline released me and ran off. Just like that. I
wondered if I could tell on her for it. I mean, she
did get her hair all over me. Assault with a fragrant
weapon, maybe?
As I tried to formulate the appropriate
accusation, across the cafeteria, I saw something
MUCH stranger. I saw Aunt Carol talking to Miss
Bruntford. This alone would have been cause for
alarm, but then I saw Bruntford attempt to execute
what I truly think may have been . . .
63
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Is that even possible? Angeline, of course,
is as weightless as a fairy, and her lustrous
hair lustrously lusters all over the place in slow
motion, but Bruntford clearly does not have that
relationship with the earth’s gravity. Bruntford may
even have her own personal gravity. I would not be
surprised to one day see a normal-sized cafeteria
monitor in orbit around Bruntford.
But it was clear: Bruntford attempted the
tiny little stamps. She tried flipping her head back
and forth a little. She even made a squealy sound
to make puppies pee, but coming out of her, I think
it was directed more at jackal puppies. This was
Gigglecide, and she was committing it against
my Aunt Carol. Was she imitating human behavior
the way a giant chimp in an ugly dress might? Mr.
VanDoy did say that animals sometimes imitate
human beings. . . .
65
When I turned to look at Isabella, I could tell
that she had seen the whole thing, and a smile crept
across her face like the thin wet track of a creeping
snail.
Oh man, I think I grossed, myself
out again.
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Wednesday 18
Dear Dumb Diary,
Miss Anderson was late for
art class today.
She was even prettier than her normal prettiness,
which is as pretty as a waitress. Today, she might
have been as pretty as an ice-skater or maybe even
a circus lady.
She looked over our collages today, but she
hardly noticed any of the details.
In fact, all Miss Anderson really wanted to
do was get us on to our next assignment, which
was her weirdest one in quite some time: to make
a valentine card, but don’t put anybody’s name on
it. It’s not even close to Valentine’s Day. Then she
gave me a wink and said, “I’m counting on you,
Jamie,” which made sense, because I can make a
valentine that would make an ant fall in love with
an aardvark.
But then she also winked at Angeline, who
had just turned in her barf-pile of a collage.
AS IF Angeline understood even the basics of
Valentinology. Seriously. Angeline can do a lot of
things, but her glittering skills are strictly amateur.
Don’t even get me started on her cotton-balling
technique. I think that maybe Angeline is trying
to steal my favorite teacher from me. Can you do
that? Leave it to Angeline to come up with a brand-
new kind of crime.
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Isabella apologized for re-telling the second
time. Which would make it re-re-telling. I know it
was a sincere apology this time, because I know she
sincerely wants to take advantage of Aunt Carol's
ability to make teacher notes sincerely disappear.
She also admitted that she was sincerely jealous
of my shoes (they make me look 20 or something).
At first she thought they were ugly, but when
she realized how much I liked them, she decided she
loved/resented them as well. So she even bought a
pair when she was at the mall with her mom. Wasn’t
that nice of her?
We should cut her some slack. Going without
sugar is really hard on Isabella. Yesterday, she even
tried making an Oreo out of a couple crackers and
some toothpaste.
69
Aunt Carol wasn’t at dinner tonight. When
I asked Mom what was up, she said, “Nothing,”
but she said it in that real fast way that lets you
know she was waiting for you to ask.
She said that Aunt Carol was out on a date
again but she wouldn’t tell me with whom.
Watching Mom make her appetizers all day
has been making Stinker extra hungry, so it was
easy to get him to eat baked beans again, in hopes
that he would gas me out of my room so I could
sleep on the couch and listen in when Aunt Carol
got home. But Stinker is still stubbornly refusing
to perform an odor, even when I gently sit down on
him with all my weight, so I think I’m going to have
to sleep in my room and not find out who the date
was with.
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Thursday 19
Dear Dumb Diary,
Isabella and I were eating lunch today.
Meat loaf. Meat loaf is what they always do to us
on Thursday. They’ve tried to dress it up in the past,
but it always comes down to this: chopped-up cow,
made more appetizing by shaping it like a brick.
71
Isabella and I were complaining about it to
each other when Isabella got an idea. She stood
up with her tray and told me to follow her and we
walked right up to the trash where Bruntford was
standing. Isabella looked Bruntford right in the eye
and slid the uneaten meat loaf into the garbage.
Then she grabbed my tray, did the same thing, and
waited.
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Dumping uneaten meat loaf in the garbage
in front of Bruntford is a level of taunting that
even rodeo clowns wouldn’t dare. Isabella’s mean
older brothers have forced her to learn to stand
her ground even when she is afraid, so Isabella and
Bruntford held each other’s stare for what seemed
like a full minute until Bruntford eventually looked
away and Isabella smiled.
73
“Your Aunt Carol has some sort of calming
effect on Bruntford,” Isabella said. “It’s like when
they put a little goat into a stall with a jumpy
horse.” Isabella also said that because of this we
can do anything we want now and she proved her
point by drinking as much water from the water
fountain as she could hold. I told her that I didn’t
think there were any limits on the water, anyway,
and she said, “Not anymore, Jamie. Not for us.”
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Friday 20
Dear Dumb Diary,
Before class today, we asked Mr. VanDoy (the
teacher who never smiles) about Isabella’s idea
that a goat could have a calming effect on a horse.
He said yes, which surprised me, because
often teachers don’t know as much as Isabella, and
many have not heard of the things that Isabella
knows to be true.
I was thinking about this, and the evidence that
adults are animals, when The Unpleasentness
occurred. Now, before I tell you about The
Unpleasentness, Dumb Diary, you should know
that I was not trying to get in trouble. It just sort of
happe
ned.
Here is a transcript of the exchange:
ISABELLA: So, what sort of animals are we
learning about today, Mr. VanDoy?
VANDOY: I’m not quite sure. I’ve been very
busy at home and I got a little behind.
ME: It doesn’t look so little to me.
It happened so fast that I hardly knew I had
said it. Isabella’s huge whooping laugh and calls of
"Oh no, you dinnit" did not help things, and
Mr. VanDoy sent me with a note, to the office.
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Not a problem, right? Aunt Carol will know
what to do. Right? Except that when I got there,
Aunt Carol was nowhere to be seen. Only the office
ladies were there, and even though they all actually
smiled at me with real smiles (not the ones they
used to give me that looked like small rips in
upholstery) they were
not
going to make the note
go away.
I was surprised to see Miss Anderson walk
out of Assistant Principal Devon’s office. She was
looking as pretty as ever, maybe even prettier, but
not at all happy.
“He’s all yours,” she said and jabbed her
thumb toward his office in a way that made me
think she wished she was jabbing it toward his eye.
I gave Assistant Principal Devon the note
from Mr. VanDoy, and he seemed to be holding
back a laugh. Adults do that a lot, which is strange
because who doesn’t like to laugh? He said to
choose my words more carefully in the future and
it wouldn’t hurt to apologize to Mr. VanDoy and not
mention the size of his behind anymore.
He threw the note in the trash and as my eye
followed it, I saw a VALENTINE in the trash. It
was My Valentine. The one I had made in art.
(My private glitter blend is impossible to mistake.)
77
It said, "How about lunch?" on it in Miss
Anderson’s gorgeous handwriting.
Miss Anderson used my valentine to ask
Assistant Principal Devon to lunch? Can you
imagine? I’m so flattered. Take that, Angeline! Miss
Anderson is still My BTF.
I’m guessing he said no and that’s why she
seemed angry. But here’s the weird part: Miss
Anderson and Assistant Principal Devon have
worked together for years. Why would she give him
a valentine now all of a sudden? Why would he say
no? Why didn’t my glitterfication skills and
private blend do the trick?
It’s a mystery, all right.
PS: Gave Stinker beans again. I just know he’s