Free Confetti Girl by Diana Lopez

we say when there’s a bunch of crybabies around. We use
     it when our classmates complain about homework or when our teammates complain about workouts, but we never use it for each
     other. Our motto is NO PAIN, NO GAIN .
    “There,” she says, handing me the phone. “Not that you’re going to use it.”
    “You never know,” I say. “Luís might call. He’s been walking me home, remember?”
    “Earth to Lina,” she says. “He won’t call because
he can’t talk.
”
    “He talks just fine.”
    “If you want to wait ten minutes for two words!” she says sarcastically.
    Sometimes this friendship stinks like a rotten egg.
    “Here’re two words for you,” I say. “Get out!”
    Vanessa knows she’s crossed the line with me because she apologizes right away and swears she didn’t mean to pick on Luís,
     that it just came out. But I’m too hurt to forgive her. I grab
Watership Down
and decide to use it on the biggest bug in the room.
    “Get out!” I say again, swatting her legs.
    She hops off the bunk, runs out of the room, and I slam the door behind her.

Cada cabeza es un mundo –
Inside each head lies a different world
12
Egg on My Face
    T he next morning, I walk out my door and straight to school. I admit it—I hold grudges. If only I weren’t so lonely walking
     by myself.
    Vanessa beats me to science. As soon as I enter, she says, “Lina, I’m sorry. I’m really,
really
sorry.”
    “Tell it to your boyfriend,” I say, looking toward Carlos.
    She lets out a little huff and leaves to sit by him.
    I hardly look up from my desk when Luís walks in.
    “What’s wrong?” he asks.
    “I got in a fight with Vanessa.” I’m not about to tell him she made fun of his stutter, so I say, “About some girl stuff.
     You know how it is.”
    “I do?” He makes a big show of looking at his arms and legs. “Because the last time I looked, I wasn’t a g-g-girl.”
    That does it. He wipes the frown right off my face.
    When class begins, Luís and I trade notes. He asks me things like what’s my favorite music video, my favorite movie, the funniest
     thing I ever spotted on eBay.
    “A wedding dress,” I write.
    “Why’s that funny?”
    “Because a guy modeled it, and he had a really hairy back.”
    Luís cracks up when he reads my note.
    “Did I make a joke?” Mr. Star asks.
    “N-n-no, sir,” Luís says.
    Before I know it, class is over and I’m feeling one hundred percent better. With Luís on my mind, I don’t walk but
float
to fourth period.
    Too bad I have to go to English. Mrs. Huerta squashes my good mood the minute she returns the vocabulary test—mine with a
big fat zero
!
    “Please see me after class,” she says.
    “Okay,” I say. “But while you’re passing out papers, can you give me back the quizzes from that book we’re reading?”
    “No. I don’t have them with me.”
    “You don’t? Where are they?”
    “Now, Lina, you know where they are.”
    But I don’t know where they are. How can I concentrate with this mystery on my hands? Why should I bother summarizing the
     final section of
Watership Down
when all my other quizzes are floating in the cosmos somewhere?
    Maybe I haven’t read the book, but like I said, I
do
listen in class. I take notes too. I get enough details for my Fiver and Hazel adventure. Fiver is, or was, Hazel’s best
     friend. Last time, they had to wear disguises. Hazel got mad when Fiver and a bunny named Carlita paired up as the munchkin
     lollipop kids from
The Wizard of Oz.
They sucked on helium to get funny voices. Then, they put on beanie hats with whizzing propellers that chopped off their
     ears. For today’s assignment, I decide that Hazel and Fiver are going to fight, a big fight like the one Vanessa and I had.
     “The Final Blowout,” I call it.
    After class, Mrs. Huerta waits for everyone to leave. Vanessa hangs around, but Mrs. Huerta tells her to go too. I’m still
     mad, but I have to admit, I wish I were walking out with