Later, on the playground, Hannie and Nancy and I asked Audrey if she wanted to play hopscotch with us. Audrey shook her head. “No, thank you,” she replied. “Karen is too obnoxious.” Then she repeated her big word. “Ob-nox-ious.” She flounced away.

  “What does obnoxious mean?” I asked Nancy.

  “I think it means you are a pest.”

  At the end of the day Hannie rushed over to me. “Guess what I just heard,” she said. “Pamela does not want to come to the pizza party. Audrey and the twins might not come either.”

  “But I thought everyone wanted free pizza so badly!” I cried.

  “They did,” said Bobby as he walked by us. “But they do not want to eat it with Miss Obnoxious Pizza Queen.”

  “Am I really obnoxious?” I asked Hannie.

  “Well …” She paused. “Maybe you could take off the sunglasses. That might help.”

  I took them off. I took off the crown, too. I thought about the way I had invited my friends to the pizza party. Maybe I had been showing off an intsy bit. Maybe I had been a little obnoxious.

  It was Thursday afternoon. The party was supposed to take place in one day. I could not tell Mr. Rush that nobody wanted to come to the party. I had to decide what to do about it.

  Karen’s Pizza Party

  When I woke up on Friday morning, I rolled over in bed. I looked at my dresser. The night before, I had left my crown and sunglasses on the dresser. That was where I had left them every night before I went to sleep. Then I could put them on the moment I woke up. This morning I did not put them on, though. And I did not bring them to school.

  “Hey, Pizza Queen!” Bobby yelled when he saw me. “Where is your crown? Aren’t you the queen anymore?”

  “I am still the queen,” I replied. “But I do not think I need to wear the crown all the time. Or the sunglasses.”

  “How come?” asked Bobby.

  “You’ll see.”

  This is what I had decided to do about the pizza party: Stop being obnoxious. If I was not obnoxious, maybe my friends would come to the party. It was worth a try. I talked to Ms. Colman.

  “Ms. Colman,” I said. “May I say something to our class after you make the announcements? It is very important.”

  “All right,” replied my teacher.

  That morning I stood next to Ms. Colman in the cafeteria. I looked around at my classmates. I said, “I know I have been obnoxious. I have listened to the things you said. And I am sorry. I made promises I could not keep, and I bragged a lot — ”

  “And you showed off,” added Pamela.

  “And I showed off,” I agreed. “Anyway, I am almost finished being the Pizza Queen. And I am really finished being obnoxious. So will you please come to the party? Mr. Rush still says we can have it. It will be at Pizza Express after school today.”

  * * *

  Mommy drove Nancy and Andrew and me to Pizza Express that afternoon.

  “Do you think anyone will come to the party?” I whispered to Nancy.

  “I hope so,” she replied.

  Guess what. Everyone came. Ms. Colman, too.

  I began to smile. I could not stop smiling.

  “Thank you for coming,” said Mr. Rush when my friends and I were sitting down. “Help yourselves to pizza and sodas. And have fun!”

  I have never seen so much pizza in my whole life.

  Neither had Andrew. “This is even better than Chuckie’s Happy House,” he said.

  “Much better,” I agreed.

  I sat at a table with Nancy and Hannie and Andrew. I was still not wearing my crown. I tried not to be obnoxious. I did not perform my TV commercial. I did not offer people my autograph. I just sat in my spot and ate pizza and drank soda and laughed.

  I think my friends had a good time. Bobby and Ricky made up imaginary pizzas. Their best one was peanut butter pizza with whipped cream, raisins, and sardines, hold the olives.

  Addie and Audrey and the twins held a joke-telling contest. They decided the winning joke was: What time is it when an elephant sits on the fence? Time to get a new fence! (I have heard that joke one million times before, but I still think it is funny.)

  I know Pamela had fun at the party. That is because when it was over, she said to me, “Thank you, Karen. The party was great.”

  Everyone else thanked me, too. And of course we thanked Mr. Rush. Now if only I could find Hootie. I was supposed to bring him back to school on Monday. In just three days.

  Behind the Refrigerator

  When Andrew and I returned to our house, we had to pack our knapsacks. Soon Mommy would drive us to Daddy’s. It was the beginning of a big-house weekend.

  I packed in my room with the door closed. While I packed, I worried. And I talked to Emily Junior. “I bet you know where Hootie is, don’t you?” I said to my rat. “I wish you would tell him to come back. I cannot even look for him this weekend. And on Monday — ”

  Knock, knock. Someone was at my door.

  “Who is it?” I called.

  “It’s Mommy,” said Mommy. And then she walked right into my room.

  She was holding Hootie.

  I let out a shriek. “Hootie!” I cried. “Where have you been?’

  “I found him behind the refrigerator,” replied Mommy. “Karen, how long has he been missing?” (Mommy was frowning again.)

  “Um, since Tuesday,” I admitted.

  “Since Tuesday! Karen, why didn’t you say anything?”

  “Well …well …I don’t know. I kept looking for Hootie. I just hoped I would find him. I promised you Hootie would not be a problem. So I tried to take care of this myself.”

  “Oh, Karen,” said Mommy. “I appreciate that. But you cannot let a guinea pig run loose in the house. Anything could happen to him. And if Hootie had gotten outdoors I do not think we would have seen him again. As it is, he probably has not eaten in three days.”

  I peered at Hootie. “I don’t know. He looks pretty fat to me.”

  Mommy held him out and looked at him, too. “Actually, he does,” she said, smiling. “I wonder what he’s been eating.”

  “I bet we will find a big hole in a box of crackers or cereal,” I said.

  Mommy set Hootie in his cage. Then she sat on my bed. “Karen, do you realize that Hootie is very lucky? You are both lucky that Rocky did not go after Hootie, that Hootie did not get trapped somewhere, that he did not go near an electrical socket, and that he did not escape outside. Not telling me about your problem,” said Mommy, “was not the best thing to do. It was not safe for Hootie. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” I replied.

  “I know you were trying to be responsible. But the most responsible thing to have done, when you realized Hootie was missing, was tell a grown-up. I hope you will remember that. Making choices can be hard, but always try to make the safest choice if anyone or anything is in danger. Will you promise me that?”

  “Yes,” I said again.

  “Now,” said Mommy, “as fat as Hootie is, I bet he is hungry.”

  “He probably has not eaten any lettuce or carrots,” I agreed.

  “Why don’t you fix a special meal for Hootie?” suggested Mommy.

  So I did. All this favorite things.

  While he was eating, Mommy looked at the latch on Hootie’s cage. “It is very loose,” she said. “Anyone could have knocked the lid off, even Rocky. Then Hootie could have escaped easily.”

  Mommy and I fixed the latch on the top of Hootie’s cage. We made sure it was fastened very tightly. Then it was time to go to Daddy’s.

  So Hootie came with me to the big house. And on Monday he went back to school, back to our new, clean, beautiful classroom.

  The New Pizza Queen

  It was almost my last day as Pizza Queen. At Pizza Express, people had been filling out lots and lots of those entry forms. An enormous barrel was full of them. Soon Mr. Rush would choose one, and then he would say, “And the winner is …”

  On Thursday, Mommy picked
me up after school. She brought Andrew and my crown with her. I had not been wearing the crown much anymore.

  Mommy drove us to Pizza Express. On the way, we passed a couple of posters with my picture on it. And Andrew said, “I saw you on TV this morning, Karen.”

  Soon no one would see me on TV. The posters would be taken down. And someone else’s face would be plastered on the billboard. No more Big Karen. In just a little while, Mr. Rush would draw a name out of the barrel, and then I would give my crown to the new Pizza Queen or King.

  “Good afternoon, Karen,” said Mr. Rush when we arrived. “Come on and take your place.”

  Mr. Rush led me inside Pizza Express and helped me into the window. A throne had been set there. It was the one I had seen Rodney Harris, the old Pizza King, sitting on, on the last day of his reign. Now it was my turn.

  I settled myself on the throne. I adjusted my crown. Then I looked at the crowd outside. I saw Mommy and Andrew and Nancy and Hannie and Linny and Ricky and Addie and Bobby and Natalie and Pamela and the rest of the kids in my class. I saw newspaper reporters and people with cameras. I saw old people and young people and tall people and short people. Almost everyone was waving at me, so I waved back in a queenly way.

  From outside I could hear Mr. Rush say, “Good afternoon!” (The people in the crowd stopped talking.) “Thank you for coming,” he went on. “Welcome to the Pizza Express Royalty Contest. Today we will choose another new Pizza Queen or King. And we will say good-bye to Karen Brewer, the reigning queen. Now without further ado …”

  Mr. Rush reached into that barrel. He shuffled around all those entry forms. Finally he chose one. He drew it out.

  “And the winner is,” he said, “Natalie Springer.”

  Natalie Springer? I could not have heard right. Mr. Rush must have said some other name, like Natalia Spangler or something. But no, out in the audience the kids in my class were screaming and cheering and jumping up and down. Then they moved aside, and Natalie and her father made their way to Mr. Rush.

  My mouth had dropped open. The new Pizza Queen was another kid from Ms. Colman’s room? The new Pizza Queen was dowdy Natalie with the droopy socks? Then I remembered Natalie gazing at my crown, and Natalie asking if I really felt like a queen. I began to smile.

  A few minutes later, Mr. Rush and Natalie were standing next to me in the window. Mr. Rush lifted the crown, the lovely crown, from my head. He set it on Natalie’s head. Then Natalie sat on the throne. She looked so nervous I thought she was going to cry. So I leaned over and said, “Natalie, see all those people out there? They are waving and smiling — at you. So wave and smile back.”

  Natalie waved a little. Then a smile crept over her face.

  “Natalie, I have to tell you a few things,” I whispered. “They are very important. Do not wear the crown all the time, okay? And do not make promises you cannot keep. And most of all, try not to be obnoxious. But have fun.”

  “Okay,” replied Natalie.

  Then Mr. Rush and I left her in the window.

  About the Author

  ANN M. MARTIN is the acclaimed and bestselling author of a number of novels and series, including Belle Teal, A Corner of the Universe (a Newbery Honor book), A Dog’s Life, Here Today, P.S. Longer Letter Later (written with Paula Danziger), the Family Tree series, the Doll People series (written with Laura Godwin), the Main Street series, and the generation-defining series The Baby-sitters Club. She lives in New York.

  Copyright © 1993 by Ann M. Martin

  All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Inc., Publishers since 1920. SCHOLASTIC, BABY-SITTERS LITTLE SISTER, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Scholastic Inc., Attention: Permissions Department, 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  First edition, 1993

  e-ISBN 978-1-338-05689-1

 


 

  Ann M. Martin, Karen's Pizza Party

 


 

 
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