Hedge Over Heels by Elise McMullen-Ciotti

Author:Elise McMullen-Ciotti
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scholastic Inc.

It was a few weeks later, and Thanksgiving had come and gone. Like clockwork, the decoration czar at FMS had transformed the autumnal hallways into a winter holiday extravaganza. The place was twinkling with every kind of holiday light: menorahs for Hanukkah, stringed Christmas lights, and kinaras for Kwanzaa. The place was Lit with a capital L.

There would be no homework, no tests till after the new year. Excitement filled the hallways, the classrooms, and spilled outside onto the school grounds. After lunch, I rounded the corner to the seventh-grade lockers to find Nick standing sheepishly in front of mine. I couldn’t help but smile.

“Hey,” he said as I drew near.

“Hey,” I said back, feeling my cheeks flush.

“Did you ever notice that your locker is the number for pi?”

“That has been brought to my attention,” I said, chuckling.

“Let me guess … Marcie?” he asked.

“The one and only,” I said, opening up my locker and setting my math book inside.

“She is crazy smart. Did you know that she’s been to Space Camp? It’s sort of like NASA for kids? She wants to be an astronaut someday.”

“Yeah, she told me about that. I definitely like making good grades, but I have no idea what I want to do when I’m older,” I said, busying myself inside my locker, arranging things so I wouldn’t have to look into Nick’s eyes and feel all the feels.

“Really? You’re a killer artist,” he said.

“Maybe,” I said, finally shutting my locker and giving him my full attention. “So … what brings you to locker three-one-four?” I asked.

“Well, I’ve been thinking about the conversation we had on Turkey Day, when I bummed you out with all my ‘Indian-talk,’ ” he said, using air quotes.

“Wait, what? No way, you didn’t bum me out. Well, maybe a little, ’cause some of what you told me about Thanksgiving sucks. But you also made me think about things, you know?” I realized I’d reached up to him while talking and was now touching his arm. I pulled my hand back. “Plus … um … I mean, thanks. I learned something new.”

He nodded with a glint in his eye. I resisted rambling. “Um … I think we should get going? We’re going to be late to our last class.”

“Right, right. One sec, I have a holiday gift for you,” he said, pulling his backpack around him and reaching inside. “If you really want a depressing read about Native people, I’ve got just the thing.”

I chuckled and then felt bad for chuckling. “Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to laugh at—”

“It’s all good,” he said, smiling. “Giving you a depressing book is totally ridiculous. But it’s what no one teaches us at school.” He handed me the book. It was called An Indigenous Peoples’ History of the United States for Young People.

I looked back up at Nick. Our eyes met for a second. The warm turquoise color seemed to wash all over me. He trusted me. He was sharing something that meant a lot to him.

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