Free The Secret Language of Girls by Frances O'Roark Dowell Page B

diplomatic smile.
    Flannery turned away so that she was facing the aisle. “You can do whatever you want,” she said. “I couldn’t care less.”
    It was going to be one of those days, Marylin could tell already.
    She was sure of it when Mr. Kertzner assigned Marylin and Jason Frey to be partners for their gypsy moth project. Jason Frey was a toothpick of a boy who barely spoke above a raspy whisper when he was called on in class. Also he always had thin crescents of dirt beneath his fingernails. Marylin was very picky about fingernails. She thought they said a lot about a person.
    Marylin scooted her desk next to Jason’s. “I guess we should start brainstorming for project ideas,” she told him, taking charge. The one nice thing about doing projects withpeople like Jason Frey was that Marylin got to boss someone else around for a change.
    Jason nodded, red splotches blooming along his neck. He looked like he was coming down with an emergency case of the measles.
    Suddenly Marylin’s left ear was attacked by a wadded-up piece of notebook paper. She looked around as she unfolded it, but no one looked back at her.
    Dear Marylin, the note read. I think you and Jason make a very cute couple. How long have you two been an item? Signed, A Curious Person.
    The writing looked suspiciously like Ashley Greer’s when she wrote with her left hand instead of her right.
    “How about we brainstorm in silence for a few minutes,” Marylin said to Jason, taking a piece of paper out of her nature studies binder.
    Jason nodded again. He looked relieved, as though brainstorming out loud with Marylin might have caused him to internally combustright there in the middle of the classroom.
    Marylin picked up her pen and began to write. Dear Ashley, her note began, Good luck with cheerleading tryouts! I really mean it a lot!
    Marylin underlined “really” four times. It was clear she needed to do something to get on Ashley’s good side, or else Ashley would probably start spreading rumors that Marylin and Jason were planning to elope to Tijuana after social studies.
    “Meet me at my house after school,” Flannery said as she brushed past Marylin on her way to the playground at morning break. “And whatever you do, don’t bring Kate.”
    “Okay,” Marylin said, smiling her biggest, cheeriest smile, the one that showed all her teeth.
    “You look like a weasel, smiling that way,” Kate said, walking past Marylin on her way to the library.
    Marylin leaned her head against the cool,gray row of lockers outside Mr. Kertzner’s classroom. No matter what she did, she just couldn’t win with these people.
    Mr. Kertzner walked out into the hallway. “Are you feeling sick, Marylin?” he asked, sounding concerned. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
    “You could take me to Paris,” Marylin said, her head still resting against the lockers.
    Mr. Kertzner laughed. “Wouldn’t that be a great field trip?
    Field trip, shmield trip. Marylin was talking honeymoon.
    But all she said was, “Yes, it really would. I think it would be particularly nice to be around all those people who don’t speak English.”
    That way, Marylin thought, she could ignore all of them.

    “I’m sorry, honey, but Flannery went to Ashley’s house,” Flannery’s mom told Marylinthat afternoon. “Ashley’s mom just picked her up about three minutes ago.”
    “Oh, right, she mentioned that to me on the bus,” Marylin lied. “I guess I just forgot.”
    “I’ll tell her you stopped by, sweetie,” Flannery’s mom said, smiling her nice-mom smile.
    Walking back home, Marylin wondered how someone like Flannery ended up with such a pleasant mother. It didn’t make any sense. Marylin was beginning to think that the world just didn’t add up when you looked at the big picture.
    “You look like you need some chocolate,” Aunt Tish said when Marylin walked into the kitchen and slumped in a chair.
    “It smells too much like onions in here to eat