Mia the Meek Read Online Free

develop a tic over the summer?”
    “I got contacts,” I said, looking away self-consciously. “They’re sort of new, so sometimes I have to blink to get my eyes used to them.”
    “At least they’re better than your glasses. They were the worst. And I’m glad you grew your hair out,” Jessie said, flipping her own perfectly smooth chestnut brown hair over her shoulders. I’d never seen anyone who could flip her hair as perfectly as Jessie. She must’ve spent hours practicing.
    “Whatever,” Cassie said. “I just came over to tell you I saw your mom this morning, and whatever kind of look she was going for, she missed.” Cassie laughed as she and her evil compatriots turned and walked away, their butts swaying in perfect unison.
    I watched them walk into Mr. Benson’s American History classroom and groaned.
    “They’re all in my first period class this year? What did I do to deserve this?”
    “If we have first period together, we probably have the same class schedule. It looks like we’ll have to put up with the Easy Bake Oven cakes for the year,” Lisa replied.
    “‘Easy Bake Oven cakes’?”
    “Think about it: The cakes that come with an Easy Bake Oven look cute and sweet on the box cover, but once you bake them, you realize they’re small, nasty, and not worth the time,” Lisa explained as we walked into the room.
    “Lisa, Mia, over here,” Maggie called, waving us over to a group of desks. “We saved you some seats.”
    We climbed into the seats behind Maggie and her best friend, Kelly Martin.
    “Did you guys have a good summer?” Maggie asked as we got settled.
    “The best,” Lisa said. “I got to go to a camp for junior MENSA members.”
    “MENSA?” Kelly asked.
    “It’s for people who score in the top two percent on a standardized IQ test,” Lisa explained. “I took an IQ test just for fun at my mom’s office, and I scored so high, my mom enrolled me in this camp.”
    “You took an IQ test just for fun?” Maggie asked.
    “Your IQ is in the top two percent?” Kelly added.
    “The camp was awesome. We spent the week working on logic, philosophy, math, science, and a little bit of Latin.”
    “And to think, I was proud of myself for reading a book this summer,” Kelly remarked.
    I grabbed Lisa’s arm.
    “There truly is a God. Jake Harris’s sitting right over there!”
    Lisa turned to look.
    “Are you ever going to get over your obsession with him?”
    “Or do something about it?” Kelly said.
    “Don’t you remember when I joined the track team in middle school?” I asked, bringing up my short-lived attempt at organized sports.
    “You only joined because I made you,” Maggie said.
    “True.” But secretly, I wanted to fulfill at least one of my fantasies involving Jake. My running fantasy consisted of winning a city-wide track meet while looking fabulous, my hair flowing behind me like a shampoo commercial. Jake would be on the sidelines, cheering me on as I crossed the finish line way ahead of my competition. At the end of the race, he’d sweep me up in his arms as the entire city broke into thunderous applause.
    So, I joined the track team. But after the first practice, I came to the realization that running sucked. I probably would’ve given up that very day if Maggie hadn’t urged me to keep going—and I hadn’t seen how great Jake’s legs looked in shorts. Fortunately, as the season progressed, every practice got a little easier and Jake got better looking, so all of my pain seemed worth it—until the afternoon my running fantasy with Jake came to a screeching halt.
    It had been a particularly grueling practice, and I was doing my usual cool-down routine of walking around the playground with my hands on my hips, trying to catch my breath. Runners, I’d discovered, are fond of spitting, and I was secretly proud of how good I’d become at spewing spit. I’d just hurled a particularly impressive lugey across the grass when Jake walked by and said,