Party Poopers Page 2

  Wes nodded. “Like wrinkles on a prune,” he said. “Pure sponge cake.”

  See what I mean? You’ve got to be as cool as Wes to understand him. What was he trying to tell me? “Pure sponge cake?” I said.

  Wes frowned at me. “Don’t go there.” He blew a note on his sax. It echoed off the gym walls.

  I tried again. “So your band is gonna play at the party?”

  “No way,” Wes said. “Way. I mean, what if you swallow a cherry pit? Grow with it, right? A mind is a terrible thing to use. Know what I mean?”

  “Well…not exactly…”

  “Blueberries aren’t really berries, are they? They’re alive, man. ALIVE! Ever watch ’em move around on your tongue?”

  “Well—”

  “Watch their little faces. They turn blue if you look at them.”

  “Really?”

  “Now you’re gettin’ it! Pure sponge cake!” he cried again. He slapped me a high five. Then we touched knuckles. He blew another high note on his sax that rattled the windows.

  “Wes, has a girl asked you to the party?” I asked.

  “Shake well before drinking. Don’t spit into the wind. King Kong, y’all.” Wes gave me another two-fingered salute. Then he turned to his band, and they started to play a loud, hard-rocking song.

  I walked off shaking my head. I wished I was as cool as Wes. Wes is such an awesome dude.

  I turned and saw Jennifer Ecch watching from the bleachers. The girl is SICK. She follows me wherever I go.

  “Pure sponge cake!” Wes Updood called to her.

  “Cream filling!” she shouted back.

  WHOA. Did Jennifer understand Wes?

  I blinked. An awesome idea popped into my head. So awesome, I felt dizzy.

  What if I could get Jennifer Ecch to have a crush on Wes?

  Suddenly I had a plan. A plan to lose Nightmare Girl.

  I saw Coach Bunz starting to deflate the basketballs. I hurried across the gym to help him.

  But I knew what I had to do. I had to see April-May’s good friend, Sharonda Davis, right away!

  Chapter 7

  THE SOUND THE SHARKS MAKE

  Sharonda Davis is the biggest gossip at Rotten School. That’s why I had to see her first.

  I found her watching TV in the media room at the Student Center. It was Shark Week on the Discovery Channel—and Sharonda was cheering for the sharks!

  That’s cold, right?

  Sharonda is tall and thin, with chocolate-colored skin, big, brown eyes, and black hair that she wears in a single braid down her back.

  She’s a lot like her friend April-May in one way. She also pretends she doesn’t like me very much. Of course, it’s just an act.

  Time to put my plan into action. I slumped back and forth in front of Sharonda, moaning and shaking my head.

  “Don’t get in my way,” Sharonda said. “In a few minutes the shark eats a swimmer. I’ve seen this episode. It’s totally great.”

  I pretended not to hear her. “Sigh, sigh,” I said. I moped back and forth, looking as sad and worried as I could.

  “Don’t make so much noise,” Sharonda said, tucking her long legs beneath her on the couch. “I like the sound the shark makes when it’s chewing on someone.”

  Sweet, huh?

  “Sigh, sigh,” I said again.

  Sharonda rolled her eyes. “Okay, Bernie. What’s your problem?”

  I shook my head sadly and let a tear roll down my cheek.

  “Why are you acting so pitiful?” Sharonda asked.

  “It’s Jennifer,” I said, making my voice shake.

  “What about her?” Sharonda said. “Did she beat you at arm wrestling again?”

  “No,” I replied. “It’s just…well…I’m not good enough for her.”

  Sharonda jumped up from the couch. “You got THAT right!” she said.

  I sniffled and wiped away the tear. “I know,” I said. “I’m just a big loser. Jennifer is so awesome. She deserves someone better.”

  “Smartest thing you ever said!” Sharonda replied.

  “Jennifer should ask someone cool to the All-Nighter,” I said. “She shouldn’t take me. She needs someone cool—like Wes Updood.”

  I got up on tiptoes and whispered into Sharonda’s ear. “Can I tell you a secret?”

  Her eyes lit up. She lives for secrets! “Yeah, sure,” she said.

  “Promise you won’t tell anyone?”

  She nodded. “I won’t tell a soul. Promise.”

  “Double promise?” I said. “It’s a big secret.”

  “Double promise,” Sharonda agreed. She made a zipping motion across her lips. “I won’t tell.”

  “Wes Updood told me he has a total crush on Jennifer,” I whispered.

  Sharonda swallowed. “Really?”

  I nodded. “Don’t tell,” I said. “I know I don’t deserve Jennifer. Please don’t tell her.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Sharonda said.

  I hunched my shoulders, sighed a few times, and slumped out of the Student Center. Outside, I hid behind a tree and waited.

  Two minutes later Sharonda came running out. I knew where she was going. I followed her.

  Sharonda headed straight for April-May.

  April-May sat behind a card table near the statue of our school’s founder, Mr. I. B. Rotten. She had two big signs next to the table. They both read: HELP SAVE THE CHIMPANZEES.

  What chimpanzees? And what was she saving them from?

  I didn’t know. But she had a big jar half-filled with money that kids had given her.

  I hid behind another tree to spy on Sharonda and April-May. But I couldn’t keep my eyes off that money jar. If I had a big, black marker I could change the signs to read: HELP SAVE BERNIE BRIDGES….

  I forced my eyes away from the jar. Sure enough, Sharonda was telling April-May my secret.

  Am I a genius, or am I a genius?

  My plan to de-Jennifer myself was under way!

  Chapter 8

  TOE FUNGUS

  Sharonda tugged April-May to her feet. She pulled April-May away. I knew where they were going—off to find Jennifer.

  I crept to the table. The chimps won’t mind if I borrow a few dollars from them, I thought. But, sadly, April-May took the money jar with her.

  I followed the two girls to the exercise room. I waited a minute or two, then sneaked in after them. I ducked behind a stationary bike.

  Jennifer was lifting a girl who was lifting weights.

  I know it’s hard to picture. But that’s how strong The Ecch is. Pumping fifty-pound weights is too easy. She likes to lift a hundred-pound person who is pumping fifty-pound weights.

  A shiver ran down my back. I suddenly pictured Jennifer showing off—holding me over her head, raising me up and down in front of everyone.

  I had to get rid of her. My LIFE was at stake!

  I leaned forward and listened to their conversation.

  “Bernie is a total creep,” Sharonda told Jennifer. “Even he himself said you deserve someone better.”

  Jennifer groaned as she lifted the girl lifting the weights. “Bernie is so modest,” she said. “He’s so cute. What a sweet thing for him to say.”

  “You’re not getting it,” Sharonda said. “He said you deserve someone better than him. Someone cool. Like Wes Updood.”

  Jennifer giggled. “That’s so totally sweet. Bernie can’t help himself. He’s just so adorable!”

  She set the weight girl down. “Thanks for the workout,” she said. “But I need someone a little heavier.” The girl staggered away.

  I shivered and shuddered. Why did the strongest nine-year-old girl on the planet pick me to be her boyfriend?

  “You should ask Wes Updood to the All-Nighter,” April-May told Jennifer.

  “No way,” Jennifer replied, toweling off her face. “I couldn’t disappoint Bernie that way. It would break his heart.”

  Go ahead. Break my heart, I thought. Please!

 
Sharonda had her arms crossed in front of her. She shook her head. “You really deserve someone better,” she said.

  “Yes,” April-May agreed. “What if we prove to you that Bernie is just toe fungus?”

  Perfect! I thought. That’s me. Toe fungus. Jennifer, LISTEN to them!

  The Ecch giggled. “You girls are teasing me, right? You both know how wonderful my Honey Cakes is!”

  Sharonda stuck a finger down her throat and made gagging sounds.

  I told you: She pretends she doesn’t like me.

  “What if we prove it to you?” April-May asked Jennifer again. “What if we prove to you that Bernie is a creep and a loser? Then will you drop him?”

  The Ecch giggled again. “Lamby Knees? A creep and a loser? No way!”

  Okay. I knew what I had to do.

  I had to act like a creep and a loser.

  It wouldn’t be easy for someone as handsome and popular and smart as me. But I could do it.

  To convince Jennifer to drop me, I could be toe fungus. I could be the biggest creep and loser at Rotten School.

  Just watch me!

  Chapter 9

  CRYBABIES

  “Okay, dudes—get your butts over here!”

  Ever try to round up a group of first graders?

  The little guys were wrestling on the grass and tackling one another, fighting and shouting and pushing and poking one another’s eyes out.

  Totally cute.

  “Dudes—get over here!” I shouted. I pulled two wrestling kids to their feet, one in each hand.

  “Yo—what’s that? Give it! Give!” I grabbed a Nutty-Nutty candy bar from a kid who was stuffing his face.

  “How many times do I have to tell you kids to eat healthy? Eat healthy!” I shoved the candy bar into my mouth to keep the kid from ruining his lunch.

  As an older student, I have to set an example. “Okay, everyone line up!” I shouted.

  A chubby kid with red hair and a faceful of freckles stuck his tongue out at me.

  “Come over here, kid,” I said. “What’s your name?”

  He sneered at me. “I don’t know. I’m only in first grade!”

  “Ha-ha. A joker!” I said. “You’ll go far, kid. Do you know how to spell NOT FUNNY?”

  He shook his head. “No. We haven’t done spelling yet.”

  I liked this kid. He reminded me of ME.

  But I didn’t have time for jokers. I knew that April-May, Sharonda, and Jennifer would be walking by here soon.

  I herded the kids into the courtyard next to Rotten House, my dorm. The dorm is a beat-up old house with shingles falling off and a leaky roof. But we love it.

  I pointed up to a window on the third floor. “That’s my room up there,” I told them.

  “Is that a big whoop-de-doo?” the freckled kid said. “I mean, are we supposed to care?”

  “Ha-ha.” I laughed and pinched his cheek. Okay. Maybe I pinched a little too hard. The redness would go away in a week or two.

  “Listen up, dudes!” I shouted. “I brought you guys here to play a little game.”

  Some of them cheered and slapped high fives. Others just stared at me.

  I checked my watch. Almost time.

  “Here’s what I’m gonna do,” I said. “I’m gonna go up to my room on the third floor and drop water balloons onto your heads.”

  They cheered again.

  “And I want you guys to cry,” I said. “When I hit you with a water balloon, I want you to cry really loudly and sob your eyes out.”

  The redheaded kid stepped forward. “But we LIKE to have water balloons dropped on us!” he said.

  I pinched his other cheek. “I know you like it,” I said. “But this is a game. I want you to be the biggest crybabies on campus—get it? I want you to pretend that I’m a mean dude, and you hate it.”

  They shook their heads, looking confused.

  I checked my watch again. “Just do it,” I said. “Cry your eyes out. Make it look really sad—okay?”

  I ran into the house. I shot up the stairs to my room and pulled open the window. I could see the little dudes down there, huddled in a circle, talking it over.

  My targets.

  I had a basket of water balloons ready. Piece of cake!

  I leaned out the window. “Get ready, guys!” I shouted down. “I wanna see real tears!”

  From the third floor, I had a good view of the path from the Great Lawn. I knew the three girls would be walking by any minute now, on their way to the girls’ dorm.

  You want to see a creep?

  You want to see a creep and a loser?

  Bernie B. is your man!

  Across the lawn I could see the three girls approaching. Another minute and they’d be here.

  I picked up a fat water balloon in each hand, took a deep breath, and got ready for ACTION!

  Chapter 10

  SPLAT!

  As soon as April-May, Sharonda, and Jennifer came near, I let the water balloons drop. They made wonderful sounds as they exploded on the kids’ heads.

  “WAAAH! WAAAH!” The dudes started wailing and sobbing, just as I told them to.

  “I’m drowning! I’m DROWNING!” the redheaded kid screamed. And I hadn’t even dropped one on him yet! This kid was an actor!

  SPLAT!

  “WAAAAAH! I’m wet! I’m wet! SOB SOB!”

  The first graders were soaked. Some of them dropped to their knees, crying and sobbing and rubbing their eyes.

  The kids were brilliant!

  I watched April-May and Sharonda shaking their heads. “Can you believe what Bernie is doing?” Sharonda cried to Jennifer.

  “See how that creep treats those little kids?” April-May said. “Just for a mean laugh!”

  “WAAAAAH! He hit me! He hit me!

  I leaned out the window and shouted down at the girls. “This is totally FUN! Want to try it?” I tossed back my head and let out an evil laugh.

  Sharonda grabbed Jennifer by the elbow. “See what we mean?” she cried. “See what a loser creep he is?”

  SPLAAAAT!

  “WAAAH! WAAAAH!”

  Jennifer looked up and blew me a kiss. Then she turned back to Sharonda. “Oh, boys will be boys,” she said. “Honey Cakes is just having a little fun.”

  Huh?

  I sailed a few more fat balloons out the window.

  SPLAT! One of them dropped a kid to his knees. He started to sob.

  “Bernie is so unselfish,” Jennifer said. “He’d rather be with his friends. But here he is, sharing himself with the little kids. Teaching them about life. It’s totally wonderful. They look up to him so much!”

  She blew me ten or twenty more kisses.

  Oh, wow.

  Failure. Total failure.

  Making the first graders cry didn’t turn her against me at all. When I dropped water balloons onto their heads, it made her PROUD of me!

  I shook my head. Getting rid of The Ecch was going to be a lot tougher than I thought.

  But, hey, does the great Bernie B. give up after only one try?

  I knew I could prove to Jennifer that I was a lowly worm who didn’t deserve her.

  Don’t worry your head about this dude. I knew I could think up some other ideas that totally rocked!

  Chapter 11

  THE BIG RODENT HUNT

  The next morning we had an assembly in the auditorium about the All-Nighter. Every seat was filled. Kids were laughing and talking. Belzer saved me a seat in the third row.

  My friend Beast stood up in the aisle. Beast is a good guy, but no one really knows if he’s animal or human. In class, Mrs. Heinie keeps him on a leash, which I don’t think is fair.

  Beast pulled off his school uniform shirt and started playing “America the Beautiful” on his armpit. The dude has armpit hair that goes down to his waist. So it was pretty gross to look at him.

  But no one can play armpit like Beast. He plays with so much enthusiasm and skill! He started squeezing out some rap beats
with both armpits and had the whole auditorium boogying!

  I looked up and saw Mr. and Mrs. Pocketlint walk onto the stage. They both had their hands pressed over their ears. They like classical stuff like Mozart and Beethoven. You could tell they don’t care for armpit music.

  The Pocketlints are the dorm parents in Nyce House. Mr. Pocketlint has a slender, pink face, a very long, pointed nose, and tiny, blue eyes, very close together. He looks a lot like one of those anteaters you see in cartoons.

  His wife has gray hair piled high on her head. She has large, gray eyes and a big, snooty nose that always seems to be sniffing the air.

  They waved their arms and shouted for us all to be quiet. It took a long time for everyone to calm down.

  Beast took out a hairbrush and started brushing his armpit hair. He did it for a joke. And, of course, we all went wild, laughing and cheering him on.

  But the Pocketlints didn’t think armpit brushing was funny. Mr. Pocketlint slipped a dog leash onto Beast and led him out of the auditorium. We all booed and hissed.

  A few minutes later everyone finally settled down. Mrs. Pocketlint sniffed the air. Her husband returned and took out a large, white handkerchief and blew his nose into the microphone. It sounded a lot like Beast’s armpit music.

  “We are the chaperones for the All-Nighter party,” Mrs. P. announced. “That means Sam and I will be watching your every move, making sure you don’t have as much fun as you’d like.”

  I think that was supposed to be a joke. But nobody laughed.

  Mr. P. cleared his throat. “The All-Nighter is a wonderful Rotten School tradition,” he said. “It started fifty years ago. A man named I.M. Pitiful was headmaster then. His wife had the idea for the party. Her name was Mrs. I.M. Pitiful.”

  “She liked to stay out all night, prowling on her hands and knees in the grass, looking for field mice and other rodents,” Mrs. Pocketlint said. “I don’t think she ate them. I think she just liked to catch them.”