Glitter, Paint and Homemade Cookies: One Girl's Guide to Surviving Middle School

Heather M.C. Paynter

Description

Maggie's eighth grade year is the hardest one yet, filled with the drama of friends, school and family. Working toward a career in fashion design, she's all about adding class to every part of her life including parties and movie nights filled with makeovers and plenty of glitter and glam. Maggie is also facing the challenges of keeping her best friends and removing the toxic ones. With the help of trusted friends, her mom and her dog Joker, Maggie is figuring out not only algebra, but also the patience it takes to tolerate a whiney classmate who always seems to get her way. When an incident at the school threatens to drag Maggie and her friends into trouble and potentially damages their future, she realizes how much some of her friends have changed. She also finds the importance of being true to herself as she prepares for high school.

Sujets

• Social Themes
• Juvenilee Fiction
• Friendship

Informations

• Publié par: eBookIt.com
• Date de parution: 21 février 2013
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781456607401
• Langue: English

Extrait

Glitter, Paint and Homemade Cookies:
One girl’s guide to surviving middle school
 
By Heather Paynter
 


© 2012 by Heather M. Paynter
All rights reserved.
 
 
Published in eBook format by eBookIt.com
http://www.eBookIt.com
 
 
ISBN-13: 978-1-4566-0740-1
 
 
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
 
Chapter 1
Though it was still dark outside, I knew Mom was awake. I knew it would soon be time. I decided to try and hold on to some more moments of quiet and listen to Joker sighing and snorting on the floor next to me. Joker is my dog. He is a mixture of breeds, has a sausage body and little stick legs. He also has more skin, fur and wrinkles than should be allowed by law. He’s sweet and destructive all at the same time.
Mom popped in. “Time to wake up.” I sighed. It’s not that I don’t like school, I do actually. But the first waking up, the moving and the no more covers is a lot to process on a cold morning.
If nothing else, Mom has prepared me well for a career doing anything that requires an early morning. Maybe a radio personality or a breakfast chef.
She has to catch an early bus and so do I. Therefore, early morning wake up. No complaining here though. My mom and I are close and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I think I follow her hard-working example by making the effort myself. I play the trombone, pretty much the heaviest instrument in the band. Sometimes I’m jealous of the flute players, but Mom tells me it will be worth it. She says that a lot and I believe her. She’s pretty smart.
I do well in my classes, even math because a fashion designer has to be able to add up the numbers and compute the budget for materials and sewing machines and stuff. Certain television shows and fashion magazines have taught me that fashion designers have to be good at all sorts of things. Same goes for being a chef – I might want to be one of those too.
There’s no turning back now, I’m up and awake. Sometimes those things don’t automatically go together. I throw on my favorite skinny jeans, shoes and a sweatshirt. Though someday, I plan on being a famous fashion designer, I like dressing for comfort. After this, it’s a whirlwind of breakfast, pats on the head for Joker and I’m out the door. Another day lies ahead.
Chapter 2
At school, it’s the same old start to the day. My friends Jamie and Amie greet me at my locker, which I think looks super cool. Quite a variety for a 13-year-old I think. I cut out pictures of my favorite musicians and pop stars. I also have some super cute hipster outfits I found in my mom’s magazine. Shoe boots, frankenboots and military jackets are my current inspiration.
But back to my friends. Jamie and Amie are twins and so much alike, sometimes I can’t tell them apart. It’s cliché, I know, but the truth. Did I mention that they like to talk over each other in their excitement to share cool information? Not that I mind.
“Maggie, Maggie, hey, we got a substitute teacher in social studies and he’s a weirdo,” said Amie. “He tells us stories that nobody understands.” In their excitement to share the news, the two of them are practically jumping up and down. I didn’t get the excitement. It sounded terrible actually. Exactly how is social studies and topography going to help me with my life goals? There are no mountains to name or countries to point out at the department stores where I hope my clothes will one day be sold.
As I head to class, I’m thinking about the weekend ahead. My dad promised to take me roller skating and that is going to be so cool. He doesn’t live with us, but we do fun things together sometimes. Practicing the art of reality avoidance, my mind wanders to other things – my cute dog, the fact that I’m getting so great at rocking my guitar video game and the time I spent on my science project on clouds that I am really proud of. It wasn’t easy. The color printer at home wasn’t working so I had to improvise. I drew all the pictures on my poster. I must say, it looks nice.
I walk into class and take my seat next to the window. Amie was right, this teacher looks crazy. He’s wearing a mustard-yellow button down shirt, pens in the pocket, brown polyester pants and dusty boots. I think it’s similar to the leisure suits I’ve seen on those hipster nostalgia shows. Gross though. His hair is slicked back and his glasses are crooked. Though my senses were less-than-inspired, I’m willing to give anyone a chance.
He begins to talk about a story dating back to World War II. Ok, his chance has come and gone. Now, what does this have to do with social studies? I look around the class to see what’s happening. Dave on the other side of the room is intently studying a book behind his notebook. I do know he likes comic books, maybe that’s it. Jessica is looking in a mirror at her makeup and Lori leans over to say something that gets both of them giggling.
Most of the kids in class are sneaking glances on their phones and honestly, it looks like there’s a lot going on in this class that has nothing to do with the government structure in Beijing. The teacher pauses to ask the stupid question that teachers think is funny and clever. “I must be mistaken, because I hear talking,” he said. Well, he’s right about that at least. I sigh, it’s going to be a long day.
Chapter 3
The thing I do have to look forward to at the end of the day is at home and oh man, I can’t wait to tell you about my Joker. He has some German Shepherd in him, but he lacks certain guard dog qualities. He’s really skittish and he runs if I walk toward him…and he loves me so much. I only add this in because he doesn’t seem to like many people. He dislikes people for no particular reason at all. Sometimes he doesn’t like the hat someone is wearing or maybe they think they have the right to look at him and Joker just doesn’t think that is the case. Other times, I can’t predict what he will shy away from. Joker loves big boxers, but at the dog park last week he was scared of a small dog. I mean, I can’t figure him out sometimes.
We adopted Joker from a rescue at six weeks old. I looked into his big, liquid brown eyes and was sold. I mean I loved him from the start and still do.
As my mom said, he has his quirks though. I mean sometimes I just get really frustrated. One time, a couple of years ago, I couldn’t find my doll with the extra long hair. Joker had eaten her, hair and all. He has a history of causing disruption, but he keeps life interesting.
One time we bought him a great collar, a quite fashionable leather one with metal studs. He ate the leather and spit out the metal spiky decorations. I mean, he has quite some teeth!
He also has a soft spot for loud trucks, meaning he hates ‘em. He got away from my dad one time. He chased a cement truck all the way down the road until he was out of sight. My dad was worried, but he came trotting back with a piece of mud flap in his mouth. Joker is my best little brother. He’s a big bunch of love in my eyes. I hug him, squeeze him and mostly I can’t stay mad for long.
One time he chewed a chunk out of my math homework, for real. My teacher didn’t believe it when I told her that the dog ate my paper. I thought she might not buy it, so I pulled out the paper with the teeth marks. She said it was a first.
Joker also keeps me company before Mom comes home from work. Mom works really hard doing marketing and advertising. She said she does a lot of writing and saying how good a product is, highlighting the advantages and sending the presentations to clients. Sounds boring, but she seems to enjoy it.
My smart phone rings and I see it is one of my friends from school. Tasha has a birthday coming up and I know the invite to her party is coming soon. I answer the phone and get the news. “Maggie, my party is this Saturday. Do you think you can come?”
“I think so,” I said excitedly. “Where will it be?”
“At my house, with a DJ and it will be a makeup party!”
A makeup party. My wildest dream come true for a party. When I am a designer or stylist, makeup will be a big part of my life and I better learn the ropes now. Besides, what’s not to love? I was nearly 100 percent positive I’d be cleared for the party. I told Tasha I couldn’t wait to help her with the details. I wondered who would be there though. For the most part, Tasha and I have the same friends but a couple of the girls have become not as nice as they used to be. It’s sad too, because just last year they were fun and some of my best friends. My mom says that friendships are more complicated as we get older. She also said middle school is fun, but hard sometimes.
“I could sure use some help with planning Saturday,” she said. “Would you like to come?”
“Most definitely!” I said. “Is Carly going to be there?” I asked tentatively. “I think so,” Tasha said. My heart sank a little, but I was determined to not let it get to me. “I can’t wait,” I said. “See you tomorrow at school.”
Carly and I have had a “tempestuous” relationship as they might say on TV. Last year, we were together all the time. We decorated lockers together, sewed clothes after school and ate frozen yogurt at this cool place that lets you make your own sundae with several choices of toppings. Yum. We walked our dogs together and did sleepovers, but this year, Carly developed some “different interests” and by that I mean she’s a bully and makes people miserable. She started hanging out with other girls too. I miss her but I have some other pretty cool friends too.
I got off the bus and headed for home. My alone time after school is too awesome. I turn the lights off, lay on my bed for a little while and just close my eyes until Mom comes home. It allows me to process what happened during the day.
I hear Mom come