The Meaning of Maggie by Megan Jean Sovern Page B

to make myself a scholarly triple threat by getting straight As,perfect attendance, and at least one academic award. I had succeeded effortlessly. But after everything that had happened, I resolved to do something that might have seemed impossible, especially to Dad. I resolved to do something that would take all of my brain, all of my heart, and both my bootstraps pulled all the way up.
    I resolved to fix Dad.

CHAPTER TEN
    The first week back to school after Christmas break is always thrilling. But this time I was going to try even more to give it my all. Maybe I was excited to learn more and more so I could get smarter and smarter and closer and closer to fixing Dad. Maybe I just needed a distraction after everything that happened with Grandmother. Or maybe I was just the smartest kid in my entire class. 39 I was on an academic roll and by Thursday afternoon my arm was drained of blood from raising it so much.
    I was about to give my arm a rest and let someone else answer, when Mrs. Nicol asked, “Who refused to give up her seat on an Alabama bus?”
    No one raised their hand. FOOLS. I eagerly raised mine.
    Mrs. Nicol sighed. “Anyone other than Maggie?”
    I meekly lowered my hand and Mrs. Nicol called on Mary Winter (the class airhead).
    After about a million “ums,” Mary said, “Florence Nightingale?”
    Seriously? Am I the only one who did her homework even when we didn’t have homework? I was just about to redeem my generation by yelling “Rosa Parks” when the bell rang.
    I was up and at ’em the next morning. I’d read four chapters ahead in my history book the night before so I felt confident knowing I knew more than usual. I was only going to read two chapters ahead but then the civil rights movement took off and I had to know if Lyndon B. Johnson got his act together. I was zipping my book bag up when Mom unexpectedly appeared at my door.
    â€œWhy aren’t you at work, lady?”
    â€œStop calling me lady,
lady
,” she said with a look. “I took the day off to spend with my girls. How do you feel about a little adventure?”
    â€œWell, maybe later. I’m staying after school to clean the erasers.”
    â€œWhy do you have to do that? Did you get in trouble?”
    â€œTrouble? I volunteered. I consider it my civic duty.”
    She looked impressed and worried at the same time. “Okay, well, you’re going to have to miss it today. We’re going to play hooky. Doesn’t that sound cool?”
    Was she kidding? It sounded the opposite of cool. “I can’t skip school. What if I miss a pop quiz or something?”
    Mom held out my coat. “I already checked with your teachers. Missing a day is fine.”
    I objected big time. “No way, Mom!”
    She pushed me out the door. “This is kidnapping!”
    Next thing I knew, I was bundled up and being forced into the car next to Tiffany who was already buckled up. Layla was in the front seat. Was she really kidnapping all three of us?
    â€œI don’t want to be kidnapped!” I screamed.
    Mom looked at me in the rearview mirror. “It’s perfectly legal to kidnap your own children.”
    â€œWe’ll let the court of law decide that.” I nodded at Tiffany, who was staring at me with her nose wrinkled.
    â€œYou’re so weird.”
    And just like that we were driving down the highway with the radio blasting ON A SCHOOL DAY. I gave everyone the silent treatment. Mostly because I was mad and partly because when you’re kidnapped, you’re not supposed to give your captors any reason to dislike you.
    Layla checked her mascara in the passenger mirror. “Come on Maggie, cheer up! Today is going to be fun!”
    â€œHow do you know? Have you been conspiring with the enemy?”
    Mom didn’t like that. At all. “I’ll have you know, Magnolia Jane Mayfield”—uh-oh. She used my whole name.