Karina Evans - Grow Up, Tahlia Wilkins!

I ts officialmy traitorous chin is growing a zit.

Well, I guess Im not exactly positiveI could probably count on one hand the number of pimples Ive hadbut Im pretty sure the throbbing feeling just below my lower lip did not come from some bee that managed to fly into Mrs. Browns classroom and sting my face without anyone noticing.

The timing could not be worse. I do not want to have a pimple right in time for the most important event of my lifeNoah Camposs pool party.

A.k.a. the event that will make or break my entire summer.

Since Noah is the most popular kid in the seventh grade, the pool party is all anyones been talking about for the last month of school. Anyone who has been invited, that is. Pretty sure Alexa Arnecki, the girl who still brings dolls to school, and Keith Green, the kid who wears pajama pants to class and serenades people on their birthday, wont be there.

Its my chance to prove to everyone that I am not the same girl who wore a one-piece bathing suit with knee-length board shorts and goggles to Noahs start-of-summer pool party last year. No sirree!

I cringe at the memory. Id worn the board shorts so that my legs wouldnt get burned in the sun, and Id worn the goggles because I thought wed be doing flips into the pool and I didnt want to get water in my eyes. But when I got there, all the other girls were in cute bathing suits. Even Hannah Bean, whod worn oversized soccer jerseys to school every single day last year, had on a fun two-piece suit for the party.

How was I the only one to miss the memo? Hadnt we all just learned in Mr. Richards sixth-grade class how important it was to cover up to prevent too much sun exposure?

Everyone had laughed at me and asked if I was planning on going tide-pooling. I even heard them whispering about my baby goggles for the rest of the party.

I cannot let that happen to me again.

But now, my throbbing chin threatens to ruin everything. What if a whole zit cluster pops up? A pack of pimples does not scream new and improved. It screams, Look at these planets on my face! And its just my luck. Now I have less than twenty-four hours before the party to destroy my soon-to-be pimple solar system. Greeaat.

I run my finger over the throbbing area before swiping open the front-facing camera on my phone to stare at my chin. The camera angle makes my face look like a thumb.

Yup, its a growing pimple, all right. A biggie too. And it gets redder and redder the more I poke at it, trying to force it to go back down.

Am I supposed to know how to get rid of this bulging life-ruiner? Ive never seen Noah Campos poking around on his face. Maybe he knows of some secret anti-acne formula.

Ahem. Tahlia?

I look up to see my teacher, Mrs. Brown, staring at me from the front of the classroom with her arms crossed.

I gulp. Id almost forgotten I was still in class.

I know its the last day of school, but I still need your attention until the bell rings, yes? She raises an eyebrow. No phones.

I quickly set my phone screen-down on my desk and give her my best Im genuinely sorry expression.

Mrs. Brown nods and continues on with whatever she was saying.

I look over my shoulder to see my best friend, Lily, rolling her eyes. Lilys dark hair is pulled up into a bun, and her purple braces match her purple-striped shirt. I think the purple-on-purple combo makes her seem even younger than she is. Shes already the youngest in our grade, so the bright colors make her look like a little crayon. Sometimes I wish shed outgrow all the matchy-matchy, but Id never tell her that.

Lily and I met on the very first day of kindergarten, and weve been practically sisters ever since, so she knows me well enough to see Im definitely not sorry for ignoring Mrs. Brown. And why should I be? We took our end-of-the-year tests two weeks ago, and we havent learned anything since. My pimple emergency is much more important than listening to Mrs. Brown go on about how much of a pleasure its been to have us in her class. Teachers have to say stuff like that, even if they dont mean itand in this case, Mrs. Brown definitely doesnt. I personally saw Amir Abdi jam a pencil up his nose and try to take a pop quiz without using his hands. Twice. That was not a pleasure to watch.

And thats why I know youll all do great next year on the eighth-grade side of campus, finishes Mrs. Brown. Its been so nice getting to know you all.

From her seat behind Lily, Jackie Berg raises her hand and starts talking before Mrs. Brown has a chance to call on her.

When do we get our class schedules for next year? Jackie asks, flipping her long hair behind her shoulder.

Jackie used to hang out with Lily and me every weekend in elementary schoolin fact, when we started classes this year, she even rode her bike to school with us. But ever since she started straightening her hair and wearing shoes not meant for pedaling, she stopped biking and started having her parents drop her off. Now she spends the weekends with popular kids like Noah Campos.