Geek Chic Read Online Free PDF Page B

right.
    Mrs. Katterman nods back. An okay-you-nodded-back-correctly nod.
    She opens her desk drawer.
    She closes her desk drawer.
    She puts a pencil in her pencil holder.
    She sighs.
    She gets up from behind her desk, very slowly.
    Then she walks over to Mrs. Pappazian’s closed door even slower.
    Mrs. Katterman knocks. She opens the door a little and peeks in.
    Only her head does the peeking. The rest of Mrs. Katterman can’t fit.
    “Do you want to see Zoey Zinevich now?”
    I hear Mrs. Pappazian from the other side of the door: “ Send her in .”
    I power walk toward the door.
    Suddenly, Mrs. Katterman stops me.
    “You don’t have gum in your mouth, do you?
    You know we don’t allow gum chewing.”
    HST RULE #6:
    Absolutely No Chewing Gum!
    “I know. I don’t chew gum. I haven’t chewed gum for one year, two months, and twenty-four days … braces.”
    “You kids always say that, but I know you pouch. I know you swallow, with or without those braces. Those braces are just an excuse. We know you chew. You can’t fool us.”
    “I’m not fooling.”
    I open my mouth.
    Mrs. Katterman squeezes her eyes to itsy slits.
    “Okay … well … go in.”
    I walk into Mrs. Pappazian’s office.
    It smells like … someone eating Chinese food at her desk? Are those duck sauce stains I see on one of those folders?
    Mrs. Pappazian.
    In Her Office.
    With the Chinese Noodles.
    She shuffles a stack of folders on her desk and smiles without looking at me.
    “The reason I called you down to the office is because …”
    I’m pretty much wondering that myself because—
I’m not chewing gum.
I’m not wearing my fedora.
I’m not dripping blood.
I have a hall pass.
    And most important, how much trouble can I be in when Mrs. Pappazian hasn’t fallen face-first onto her duck sauce—stained folders after seeing me hatless?
    I squeeze my eyes into itsy slits just like Mrs. Katterman and stare at Mrs. Pappazian. Then I stop because it’s really giving me a headache.
    Sitting in the principal’s office is all curiouser and curiouser. Especially when everything smells like pork lo mein.
    “… Miss Jazz Duval, the creative director of the magazine that was here several weeks ago taking photographs, called today to leave a message for … you.”
    “… Me?”
    “She would like to speak with you and your parents.”
    “… Me?”
    “She asked that you call her.”
    “… Me?”
    “… Yes.
You
… Zoey Zinevich.”

    B-r-rr-rrrrr-rrrrr-inG
    Stay tuned for an episode of
    Phone Chat with Zoey Zinevich
    with
    Mother
    Father
    Brother
    Aunt Rootie
    … and Four-Year-Old Sister
      Maddie: “I’ll get it!”
    Mom: “I’ll get it!”
      Stewart: “I’ll get it!”
        Aunt Rootie: “I’ll get it!”
          Me: “I’ll get it!”
    Dad: “No. I’ll get it.”
    “Hello? Miss Duval?
    Yes. Yes, it is.
    Well, of course. Uh-huh. Agree.
    Yes. Uh-huh … Yes. Yes.
    Of course …
    Mrs. Zinevich?
    Right here …”
    “Hello? Miss Duval?
    Yes. Yes, it is.
    Well, of course. Uh-huh. Agree.
    Yes. Uh-huh … Yes. Yes.
    Of course …
    Aunt Rootie?
    Aunt Rootie.
    Yes. Right here …”
    “Hello? Miss Duval?
    Yes. Yes, it is.
    Well, of course. Uh-huh. Agree.
    Yes. Uh-huh … Yes. Yes.
    Of course …
    Mr. Zinevich?
    Right here …”
    “Hello? Miss Duval?
    Yes. Yes, it is.
    Well, of course. Uh-huh. Agree.
    Yes. Uh-huh … Yes. Yes.
    Of course …
    Zoey?
    She’s right here …”
    “Hello? Jazz? …
            Yes. It’s me, Zoey.”

Twelve
    Too excited to even remember
     how many days till you-know-what.
    Really quick update:
    So, this is what I’m thinking. …
    I really can’t do much thinking. Or dot connecting.
    I have to go to bed
muy pronto
.
    (Venus told me that’s Spanish for “very quick.”)
    Tomorrow morning I am going to NYC
(New York City)
to meet with Jazz and her magazine people.
(I didn’t even know she had “people.”)
Actually, she’s picking