Read Online Plastic Polly by Jenny Lundquist - Free Book Online

find the time to talk about it?” Mom asks. “This is a very prestigious camp, and spots are limited. And I don’t see what the problem is. I thought you wanted to visit Boston.”
    â€œBoston?” I swallow and look up. I do want to go to Boston. Every time we study American history in school, I think it would be cool to see all the old historical buildings.
    Mom frowns. “Polly, did you even read the application?”
    â€œI’ve been busy—and now with being PlanMaster for Groove It Up—”
    â€œI understand that Groove It Up is time-consuming, but you still need to focus on your future.”
    â€œI know, but Groove It Up is important,” I say, thinking fast. “I bet it would look great on a college application.” Bingo, the two words that usually get Mom’s attention (and get her off my back), especially when I say them together. College! Application!
    Except it doesn’t seem to have the same effect this time. “Is that why you’re doing this?” Mom leans forward. “Or is this about having fun with your friends from the Court?”
    Why am I doing this? To prove I’m not Plastic Polly? To prove I can be a leader? Because if so, I blew it royally at the meeting. “So what if it is?” I push my plate away, because I don’t feel hungry anymore. “What’s wrong with doing something just because it’s fun? Not everything has to be about work.” I tap the application.
    â€œ Are you having fun? Because I tried to talk to you about the meeting, and you refused to discuss it.”
    â€œBecause it was horrible, okay? Melinda invited Jenna Huff to be on the committee, and the two of them basically shut me out of the meeting. That’s how it went. There. Are you happy now?”
    â€œJenna Huff?” There’s an edge to Mom’s voice. It’s slight, but it’s there. Mom likes Mrs. Huff about as much as I like Jenna. When we were in Winston’s elementary section, Mrs. Huff was president of the PTA. Once, she sent home a note saying it would be nice if the parents who didn’t regularly volunteer gave the other mothers a break, and would Mom mind handling the decorations for the class Christmas party?
    Mom, possessed with more determination than I saw when she studied for the bar exam, decided she’d show prissy Mrs. Huff she could make decorations just like any other mother.
    Mom stayed up all night snipping snowflakes, frosting gingerbread houses, stringing popcorn for the class Christmas tree, and making ornaments. (She had glitter stuck in her hair for days afterward.) When she brought her box of decorations to school, Mrs. Huff took it by the tips of her fingers, as though Mom’s creations might soil her. “Laura, dear,” she said, “these are quite, um, cute . But usually we just buy the decorations.”
    After that, Mom threw away anything the PTA ever sent her.
    Mom’s cell phone rings. She checks it and says, “Polly, I’m so sorry, but I have to take this. Hello? Hello? Are youthere? Yes, just a minute.” Mom covers the receiver with her hand. “The reception here is bad. I’m going to step away for a sec.”
    â€œFine,” I call as she walks away. “Nice talking to you.”
    My cell pings then. It’s another text from Kelsey:
    Melinda just texted. She has serious issues with how you handled the meeting. Call me!!
    How I handled the meeting? Is she serious? I drop my phone onto the table, harder than I intended, so it makes a clattering sound.
    â€œEverything okay?” says a voice behind me.
    I turn. Justin is holding a plate with a slice of pepperoni pizza. He smiles tentatively. “Can I sit down?”
    â€œSure.” I can feel my heart quickening, and I sit up a little straighter. “Where are your grandma and Pretty Percy?”
    Justin makes a face. “Percy got pizza sauce on his sweater. So now