Snow Ball Read online



  Snow Ball

  By Kerry Sparks

  Introduction

  Jennifer Logan likes Scott Parker, and Scott Parker likes her back. But there’s a problem. Jen’s best friend, Lindy Masters, already called dibs on Scott. Scott Parker is off limits according to best friend crush rules. Jen comes up with a plan. If she finds a new crush for Lindy then she’ll be able to go to the Snow Ball with Scott. It sounds easy, but everyone knows that junior high is nothing but drama. Will Jen and Lindy get dates for the school dance? And who will win The Winter Wonderland fashion show? Find out in “Snow Ball”!

  Chapters

  Chapter 1- Fear of Frogs

  Chapter 2- Maybe Baby

  Chapter 3- A Boy’s Room

  Chapter 4 Scott’s Friend

  Chapter 5- The Assignment

  Chapter 6- Snow Ball

  Chapter 7- Drama at the Ice Rink

  Chapter 8- The Fashion Show

  Chapter 9- The Surprise Guest

  Chapter 10- Mrs. Oaks Doesn’t Celebrate Valentine’s Day

  Chapter 1- Fear of Frogs

  I had to Google fear of frogs today. It’s ranidaphobia. I definitely have that. I saw a dead frog in the road on my way to the bus stop, and I about jumped out of my skin. EW! Frogs are just so slimy…makes me want to puke.

  Like a frog, I hopped onto bus #49 and made my way to the very back. Lindy Masters, my best friend for a year since I had to replace my old best friend, (long story), kept the seat warm for me. Lindy’s very cool, but sometimes I miss my old best friend Rebecca Cane. Long story short…Rebecca’s father got activated in the military. Unfortunately, he got activated to Korea so Rebecca’s family temporarily moved out of the country. I hope they move back to our neighborhood. It’s just not the same without Rebecca Cane. Doesn’t life just stink like old dirty gym socks sometimes?

  “I just saw a dead frog, and I think it’s probably the grossest thing I’ve ever seen,” I declared.

  Lindy, not amused, blinked once through her bat winged black glasses. Her blue beret tilted to one side, and her small painted pink lips twitched before answering. Lindy Masters is kind of the artsy type. I am just your average girl next door type. I have shoulder length brown hair and brown eyes. I was wearing a pair of ripped jeans and a white tee with thick red stripes. Picture a fat candy cane with a face.

  “Cool. You should’ve scooped it up and saved it for dinner. I ordered frog legs once. They’re quite tasty actually,” she said.

  “No thanks,” I said.

  “Anyways. We’ve got more important stuff to talk about than what’s for dinner. The Snow Ball is in three weeks. Who’re you going to ask?”

  “I dunno,” I said.

  And I really didn’t.

  There wasn’t much selection at Obama Middle School. I had known most of the boys since kindergarten. I knew all of their embarrassing moments, and I remembered all the names they called me. No one at our school really struck my fancy.

  “I was thinking about asking Scott Parker,” said Lindy.

  Except maybe Scott Parker. He was cute in a mature Harry Potter sort of way. He had dark brown hair, he wore glasses, and he wore stylish clothes. He always had his nose in a book, and that made him different from the other boys at school. He was very polite and quiet, and I found him very interesting. I guess Lindy did too.

  “I wanted to ask Scott Parker!” I cried like a baby.

  “But he’s my paperboy!” protested Lindy.

  True. He did have a paper route in Lindy’s neighborhood. Technically, she did see him first. UGH! Why did there have to be all these rules when it came to liking boys? Wouldn’t life just be so much easier if you could just like who you wanted to like?

  “Whatever,” I said, giving up.

  Lindy had a look of satisfaction on her face like she had just won a card game and sack full of money. She said absolutely nothing for five minutes. Finally, I said something.

  “Well, at least think of somebody for me,” I said.

  “Ok, but I need some time to think,” she pondered, putting her pencil’s eraser in her mouth.

  “Think fast. We have only three weeks,” I said.

  “Plenty of time,” Lindy said coolly.

  I took a Twizzler out of my backpack and gnawed on it nervously.

  “Easy girl,” said Lindy.

  “Twizzlers help calm my nerves,” I said.

  “Let me try,” she said.

  I handed her a Twizzler, and we chewed in peaceful silence. Ohm!

  ***

  The next morning I was pleased to see that the slimy, gooey frog on the cement was now a thin white skeleton. Ahh! Kermit is in frog heaven now, and I can be at peace now that I know I no longer run the risk of getting frog goo on my shoe.

  So far it’s been a fabulous morning. I packed a lunch of leftover cold pizza, which means I don’t have to stand in line at the cafeteria and smell the basketball team’s B.O. from their early morning practice.

  I plopped down next to Lindy. Today she wore a white sundress, cowgirl hat, turquoise jewelry and turquoise colored sunglasses. She looked like a walking episode of “What not to Wear.”

  “Showing off your summer vacation goodies?” I teased.

  “It’s not my fault my dad took us to Arizona over the summer,” she protested.

  “It’s like forty something degrees here in small town Iowa. I hope you brought a sweater,” I said.

  She zipped open her backpack and flashed a jean jacket and then stuffed it back inside.

  “Always prepared,” she said.

  “Well, get prepared to be made fun of. No offense, but you’re out of season, and nobody’s going to dig that hat of yours,” I said.

  Lindy’s raspberry lipstick smile turned upside down.

  “Thanks for the positive feedback,” she said sarcastically.

  “Don’t mention it,” I said.

  “I won’t,” Lindy huffed.

  We got off the bus. I wore a worried look. Poor Lindy. Let the teasing begin.

  “Great hat!” said Heather.

  “Thanks!” said Lindy.

  Ok so one person liked Lindy’s outfit.

  “I love your necklace. Turquoise is my favorite,” gushed Renee.

  So the girls loved it. Naturally, females are more accepting to new fashion than males. What would the guys think?

  Whistle. Whistle.

  “Nice legs Lindy!” said Roger Lenore, a really hot eighth grader.

  “Yee-haw! That is one hot tamale!” said his friend Jacob Saunders.

  Hello People! It’s me Jennifer Logan. Anybody want to pay attention to me? Ok. So maybe I was jealous. It’s just that I’m tired of Lindy getting all of the attention. She’s the tall supermodel, and I’m like um…the supermodel’s assistant. Yeah that’s it. The supermodel gets all the stares and all of the free clothes, and the assistant gets to hold the supermodel’s purse while she takes a pee. That’s what it feels like to be friends with Lindy.

  “Hey Jen!” greeted Scott Parker.

  Finally, someone who had some senses…fashion senses at least.

  “Hi Scott. How’s it going?” I asked.

  Scott looked cute today. His brown hair was gelled straight up in the front. He wore a baby blue and white striped polo shirt and bleached jeans with holes in the knees. He wore white tennis shoes with baby blue laces. This kid could coordinate.

  “Can I talk to you about something?” he asked.

  “Ahem!” Lindy cleared her throat.

  “Uh…not right now Scott. I think Lindy wants to talk to you about something actually,” I said.

  Lindy gave Scott her megawatt supermodel smile. I turned my back and started walking toward the
door. What was I doing? I liked this kid. But, I couldn’t like this kid because Lindy liked him. I went inside the school. I was so frustrated. I wanted to bang a locker really hard with my fist, but I couldn’t. Only sweaty basketball players do that. So much for a good day. I walked straight into the bathroom and flushed my pizza down the toilet. If today was going to suck, it might as well be a total suck fest.

  “Are you ok girl? Did you eat pizza for breakfast?” asked a voice coming from the next stall.

  I rolled my eyes. Isn’t going to the bathroom supposed to be a private business?

  “I’m fine,” I mumbled.

  I hurried up and grabbed my books and ran out before she could see who I was.

  “You forgot to wash your hands!” she yelled.

  In the hallway, away from Little Miss Nosy, I felt somewhat better. Then someone grabbed me from behind. A book flew out of my hands.

  “Watch it!” I said, spinning around.

  Lindy was all red eyed and frazzled. Her long wavy blond hair was sticking up every which way like she had stuck her finger into an electrical socket.

  “He said no!” she cried, “I asked him to the dance, and he said no!”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, “Calm down. Look. I’ll go with you if you don’t find anyone ok?” I assured her.

  She sniffed and wiped her eyes. She wiped her wet nose on my shirt. I winced. It’s funny what we do for our friends. Suddenly, we become a human Kleenex.

  “I’d like that,” she said.

  Then she grabbed my arm hard. My books and papers flew out of my hands.

  “You’ve gotta quit doing that,” I said, “My papers are flying everywhere. I think that’s my homework under Anderson’s shoe.”

  Greg Anderson was one of the biggest and best basketball players at Obama Middle. He started every game. Sometimes he was in a good mood. Sometimes he was in a bad mood. I pointed to his shoe. Luckily, he was in a good mood and handed me my wrinkly homework. I thanked him and ran back over to Lindy.

  “You’re lucky. Anderson was in a good mood. If he was in a bad mood I would’ve had to tell my teacher that my dog ate my homework. Now what was it you wanted to tell me?” I asked Lindy.

  “I think Scott wanted to ask you. When I asked him if he wanted to go to the dance with me, he said he wanted to go with someone else,” she said.

  My heart did a back flip. Did a boy really want to go to the dance with me? And Scott? He was such a doll. I just wanted to box him up and take him home and put him on a shelf and stare at his doll face all day.

  “Oh,” I simply said.

  It took a lot of energy to say this “oh”. I had to pause and make sure it had absolutely no sound of interest or feeling in it whatsoever. Lindy was a good friend of mine, and if I said it slightly high pitch or off-key she would find something very off about this “oh”. So there it was...simply an “o”, like the letter of the alphabet.

  “You’re going to say no right?” she more so demanded than asked.

  And then my vision turned into Lindy throwing Scott, the doll, off my bed and then she repeated to punch the doll several times in the face.

  “Ouch!” I said, wincing at the visual.

  “Huh?” said Lindy with a confused look on her face.

  “Um. Yeah sure,” I said.

  “Thanks. You’re a true friend Jen,” said Lindy, hugging me.

  Only I didn’t hug back. I was numb. My only chance of going to the Snow Ball with an actual date, a cute date, just went down the drain. And then I started to think about what I really wanted. Did I want to be a true friend, or did I want a date for the dance?