doing
wasn't
the same as telling someone you liked their present when you didn't. Because with the dumb-present scenario, you were trying to make the other person feel good.
And what I was doing was making Patrick feel
bad.
Really bad.
It was almost as if I'd chanted at him: "Patrick never has money, Patrick never has money...." In my head I could hear a nasty voice saying that over and over.
My
voice.
I crossed my arms and pressed them over my stomach. Then I leaned sideways the tiniest bit so I could see Patrick, across from me at the other bank of computers. I could see only the back of his head, but it made me feel even worse.
I'd humiliated him. On purpose.
What a lousy thing to do to a friend.
All because the silkworm project was too Korean.
But Patrick didn't seem to think so. Neither did Mr. Maxwell. If
they
didn't think it was too Korean ... maybe it wasn't.
Maybe I was wrong.
No. I was right. It was a weird Korean project, that was for sure.
Another thing for sure: I was no good at being a secret agent. Acting one thing while thinking the oppositeâI'd thought it was getting easier. Some times it had even been fun, coming up with the right thing to say on the spot without giving myself away.
But now this, hurting Patrickâthis was no fun at all.
Â
And I had to fix it.
I opened my e-mail program and started typing.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Date:Thursday, March 29,2:12 PM
Subject:Wiggle project
Â
duh what was I thinking I can get an advance from my mom on my next allowance that will give us enough $$ you can pay me back whenever
luv J
Â
I hit Send, then leaned over again to look at the back of Patrick's head. I didn't have to wait very long.
He spun around in his chair and looked at me. I gave him a little nod. He didn't smile, but he nodded back and gave me a thumbs-up.
I went back to staring at my screen and let out a big breath. It was like a tight knot inside me had loosened up.
Top Secret Message to Headquarters: AGENT SONG NO LONGER AVAILABLE FOR EVASIVE TACTICS. HAS ALREADY REPORTED FOR HER NEXT ASSIGNMENTâPROJECT MULBERRY.
Â
On our way home from school, Patrick said, "I still have the letter. We can send it today."
"Okay," I said. And that was all.
I gave my mom the twelve dollars and asked her if she'd advance me my April allowance. She gave us a check for the total. Patrick and I walked to the corner mailbox to send off the order.
"I can't wait till they get here," Patrick said as he pulled open the mailbox's mouth and fed it the envelope.
"Well, we've got a lot to do while we're waiting," I said.
Patrick had been to the library the week before to check out silkworm books. He'd found only two. One was for younger kids; it was mostly about the silkworm life cycle and had lots of photos. The other was a really old book written for people who wanted to set up silk factories. It looked almost impossible to readâtiny print and lots of technical stuffâbut Patrick was determined to get through it. He'd left the picture book at my house and told me I should read it.
It wasn't like everything had changed all of a sudden: I still wasn't crazy about doing a silkworm project. But I'd made my decisionâthat it was worth doing to keep things good between Patrick and meâand now I had to make the best of it.
At least I was really and truly interested in the sewing part.
So we agreed that while we were waiting for the eggs, Patrick would do more research on silkworms, and I'd practice my embroidery.
My mom taught me two more stitches: outline stitch and satin stitch.
Outline stitch was exactly thatâyou used it to make outlines. Outline stitch was
hard.
It was hard to get the stitches to come out as a nice line on both sides. It looked best if I took little tiny stitches, but that was frustrating: I'd work and work for, like, half an hour, until my neck was all cramped from being bent over, and I'd end up with a line
wasn't
the same as telling someone you liked their present when you didn't. Because with the dumb-present scenario, you were trying to make the other person feel good.
And what I was doing was making Patrick feel
bad.
Really bad.
It was almost as if I'd chanted at him: "Patrick never has money, Patrick never has money...." In my head I could hear a nasty voice saying that over and over.
My
voice.
I crossed my arms and pressed them over my stomach. Then I leaned sideways the tiniest bit so I could see Patrick, across from me at the other bank of computers. I could see only the back of his head, but it made me feel even worse.
I'd humiliated him. On purpose.
What a lousy thing to do to a friend.
All because the silkworm project was too Korean.
But Patrick didn't seem to think so. Neither did Mr. Maxwell. If
they
didn't think it was too Korean ... maybe it wasn't.
Maybe I was wrong.
No. I was right. It was a weird Korean project, that was for sure.
Another thing for sure: I was no good at being a secret agent. Acting one thing while thinking the oppositeâI'd thought it was getting easier. Some times it had even been fun, coming up with the right thing to say on the spot without giving myself away.
But now this, hurting Patrickâthis was no fun at all.
Â
And I had to fix it.
I opened my e-mail program and started typing.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Date:Thursday, March 29,2:12 PM
Subject:Wiggle project
Â
duh what was I thinking I can get an advance from my mom on my next allowance that will give us enough $$ you can pay me back whenever
luv J
Â
I hit Send, then leaned over again to look at the back of Patrick's head. I didn't have to wait very long.
He spun around in his chair and looked at me. I gave him a little nod. He didn't smile, but he nodded back and gave me a thumbs-up.
I went back to staring at my screen and let out a big breath. It was like a tight knot inside me had loosened up.
Top Secret Message to Headquarters: AGENT SONG NO LONGER AVAILABLE FOR EVASIVE TACTICS. HAS ALREADY REPORTED FOR HER NEXT ASSIGNMENTâPROJECT MULBERRY.
Â
On our way home from school, Patrick said, "I still have the letter. We can send it today."
"Okay," I said. And that was all.
I gave my mom the twelve dollars and asked her if she'd advance me my April allowance. She gave us a check for the total. Patrick and I walked to the corner mailbox to send off the order.
"I can't wait till they get here," Patrick said as he pulled open the mailbox's mouth and fed it the envelope.
"Well, we've got a lot to do while we're waiting," I said.
Patrick had been to the library the week before to check out silkworm books. He'd found only two. One was for younger kids; it was mostly about the silkworm life cycle and had lots of photos. The other was a really old book written for people who wanted to set up silk factories. It looked almost impossible to readâtiny print and lots of technical stuffâbut Patrick was determined to get through it. He'd left the picture book at my house and told me I should read it.
It wasn't like everything had changed all of a sudden: I still wasn't crazy about doing a silkworm project. But I'd made my decisionâthat it was worth doing to keep things good between Patrick and meâand now I had to make the best of it.
At least I was really and truly interested in the sewing part.
So we agreed that while we were waiting for the eggs, Patrick would do more research on silkworms, and I'd practice my embroidery.
My mom taught me two more stitches: outline stitch and satin stitch.
Outline stitch was exactly thatâyou used it to make outlines. Outline stitch was
hard.
It was hard to get the stitches to come out as a nice line on both sides. It looked best if I took little tiny stitches, but that was frustrating: I'd work and work for, like, half an hour, until my neck was all cramped from being bent over, and I'd end up with a line
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