standing in front of it,” said the girl. “It was in my last issue of the paper. See?” She pulled out a page from the back of the clipboard.
“Whoa!” said Rocky. “Weird. Look at all that chewed-up gum!”
“Wow,” said Frank. “You really were there!”
“I had my picture in the real newspaper once,” said Judy.
“Yeah, your elbow,” said Rocky. Frank and Rocky cracked up.
“Thanks for your ideas,” said the girl. “I’ve got to go talk to Mr. Todd.”
“Mr. Todd? That’s our teacher,” said Judy.
“I know. He has a big scoop for me.”
“We already know that he’s getting married,” said Judy.
“She tries to predict the future,” Rocky explained.
“And one time she predicted Mr. Todd was getting married. And he is!” Frank announced.
“Wow!” said the girl. “That’s a good scoop!” Judy sat up taller.
“Do real reporters wear pencils in their ears?” asked Frank.
“Check!” said the girl. She looked at both of her watches. “Later, alligators!” she called, tucking the pencil behind her ear.
“Wow!” said Frank. “That girl is just like you, Judy!”
“Nah-uh,” said Judy.
“Yah-huh!” said Rocky and Frank together.
“You’re like twins or something,” said Frank.
“Two of a kind,” said Rocky.
“Name one thing the same,” said Judy.
“Amy Namey. Judy Moody. Her name rhymes. Your name rhymes. Same-same!” said Frank.
“So? She has long, not-messy hair and dimples. And she wears glasses,” said Judy. “I don’t wear glasses.”
“She dresses up like Some Lady, First Woman Reporter,” said Rocky.
“I only dressed up like Elizabeth Blackwell, First Woman Doctor, once.”
“And she collects ABC gum and likes getting her picture in the paper,” said Frank.
“And don’t forget she gets scoops,” said Rocky, “which is like trying to predict the future.”
“She probably likes Band-Aids and pizza tables, too,” said Frank. “We should ask her.”
“And she says weird stuff, like ‘check,’ all the time,” Rocky added.
“I do not say weird stuff all the time,” Judy protested.
“It’s like they took a machine and made a copy,” said Rocky.
“Maybe she’s your clone!” said Frank.
“ROAR!” said Judy.
She, Judy Moody, liked being one of a kind. An original. Her mom said she was unique. Her dad said she was an individual. Mr. Todd said she was in a class by herself (even though there were twenty other kids in Class 3T!).
Being unique made Judy feel special. That’s the way it is, was, and always would be. Should be.
Until now. Until Amy Namey, Gum-Chewing Girl Reporter, moved in.
Now she felt like a NOT-one-of-a-kind, machine-made copy. A two-of-a-kind, un-original, boring old not-stand-alone clone.
Judy was helping Stink with his homework, quizzing him for a science test.
“Name the four seasons,” said Judy.
“Easy. Salt, pepper, ketchup, and mustard,” said Stink.
“Seasons of the YEAR, Stink,” said Judy. “Never mind. How about this one. What makes dew form?”
“When leaves sweat?” asked Stink.
“N-O!” said Judy. “Here’s one. You have to know this. What is a fibula?”
“Oh, I know. That’s like when you tell a lie, but not a really big one. A little one.”
“No, Stink. It’s a bone! In your leg! Between your knee and your ankle. I think you better study some more. Now, can I ask you a question?”
“I thought that’s what you were doing.”
“Not a science test question. What would you do if you thought there was just one Stink, then you found out there was somebody else out there just like you? Like another Stink?”
“I’d bug you TWICE as much.”
“Never mind. I’ll ask Mom and Dad.”
Judy asked her mom. Mom just hugged her and said, “You’re the one and only Judy Moody in my book.”
“Is this for science? Or social studies?” asked Dad.
“You don’t understand,” Judy told her dad. “There’s only ONE of you and ONE of Mom and ONE of Stink.