The Golden Bee

By Dana Storino

Blending text messages and emojis with a narrative specifically written for readers who have short attention spans, this book is perfect for fans of Lisa Greenwald, Geoff Rodkey, and Jeff Kinney.

Middle school can be brutal. But when you're i

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gilded Press
• Release date: Oct 7, 2022
• ISBN: 9798986466170

Book preview

Chapter One

Sometimes I wonder what it’s like to be normal. I mean, I guess no one is completely normal, but I definitely think I’m less normal than most kids.

Stephanie … Stephanie! Come on. Josh and Max are picking teams.

Thank God for my friend Ada. When I zone out, which happens more often than I’d like to admit, she’s always the one bringing me back to earth.

I toss my lunch bag onto the grass and head over to Ada and my other two friends, Erica and Tanya, passing Mr. Bendeck—or Mr. B for short—on the way.

Normally, Mr. B doesn’t eat lunch with us, but now that the weather is getting warmer, he’s changed up his routine and takes us outside for lunch and recess. We go to Mr. B’s room first thing in the morning for homeroom and independent study. Our class stays together and travels from room to room for each subject. Then we come back for math, our last class of the day.

After we gobble down our food, we have a quick game of kickball. It’s fun, except for the whole team-choosing part. Ada, Tanya, Erica, and I are usually picked last. It’s okay, though. Sports aren’t really our thing.

Josh grabs the ball, barrels into Max, and declares first pick. He points to Angelina and flashes his annoying smile. The one with all his teeth showing. It’s kind of creepy if you ask me.

Definitely you, he says with a nod of his head.

Such a typical jock. He’s about as cliché as they come—pushy, aggressive, and always has to win.

Angelina’s face illuminates like a firefly on a summer night. That’s right! Winners stick together. She extends her fist to Josh for a bump, and I roll my eyes. Angelina is the class princess. A princess with a total ’tude.

Ada’s smile takes a sharp dip downward, now a full-blown frown, as she crosses her arms in front of her chest and lowers her head.

I cringe because I know Josh’s first pick stung. All the girls in our class—especially Ada—think Josh is totally hot. I don’t see it. I guess there are jerks at every school, even Harrison.

Harrison Middle School is not your average school. It’s a charter school with a STEAM-based curriculum. Everything about it is pretty intense, including our kickball games. Anyone who wants to attend has to take a difficult test to get in. The entire sixth-grade class only has sixteen students because we’re the ones who scored in the top ten percent.

Since Harrison takes students from all over Chicago, most kids are strangers when they start the fifth grade. Luckily for me, my friend Ada and I both scored high enough to get in. Our moms are best friends, and we've known each other our whole lives. We do everything together.

Ada’s the opposite of me. She has white-blond hair and piercing green eyes. With her tiny frame and squeaky, high-pitched voice, she reminds me of Tinkerbell, minus the wings and glitter. My hair is boring dark brown, messy, and usually falling into my face. I hate brushing it! Frankie, my younger brother, says I have poop-colored eyes, and I sound like a boy. I can’t help that my voice is deeper than most boys in my class. I would never be mistaken for a fairy. Nothing about me is delicate.

Max locks eyes with me and points in my direction. Bud, you’re on my team, okay?

He is one of my most favorite humans and has been calling me that since we met. I was trying to navigate my way through the halls of Harrison on the very first day, but as usual, I wasn’t paying attention and ran face-first into a wall. He witnessed my misstep and shouted, Watch out for those walls, bud. Sometimes they jump out at people! When he realized I wasn’t okay, because blood was gushing out of my nose, he stopped laughing and helped me find the nurse. Nothing bonds you to someone like bleeding all over them. We’ve been close ever since. At first, I thought the nickname was super annoying, but it eventually grew on me and kind of makes me feel special since he doesn’t call just anyone bud.

Bud! Hurry up, let’s play! Max throws the ball over his head and everyone immediately runs after it.

I charge toward the ball and attempt to get a pass in. A few of the kids crowd around the ball. Their backs face me as their legs struggle to take control of the ball. I anticipate where the ball might end up based on the crowd.

I decide to run to the left because I’m almost positive Josh is going to win the battle. Although, last week Max won the face-off … and I think the time before it was Erica, which is odd because she isn’t that—

Whack!

Ouch! My head vibrates and my cheek burns. I grab my face, open my eyes, and see the red ball on the ground in front of me. I never understood what people meant when they said they saw stars, but now I get it.

I shake my head and try to focus. Once again, everyone is staring at me. The throbbing pain is unbearable. My vision is still kind of blurry, but I can hear someone laughing. Tears fill my eyes as I connect the laughter to a face. It’s Angelina, and she’s cackling like some kind of insane hyena. I have no idea if this was an accident or on purpose, but the pain makes me not care either way.

Rage instantly consumes my entire body. My anger surges like water gushing through a dam. Without thinking, I pick up the ball and whip it as hard as possible, aiming at her face. My throw is less than stellar, and it’s a hard miss. Unfortunately, the ball hits Mr. B square in his face, and his head jerks backward.

I squint my eyes. Crud! Why did I just do that?

Miss Fiorelli, come here. Now! His face is red, but I’m not sure if it’s from being hit with the ball or fueled by his anger.

The ball had knocked his glasses off, flinging them onto the grass. As I’m walking toward him, I decide it might be a nice gesture to pick up his glasses and hand them to him.

Stephanie, why did you do that? I wish I knew! He grabs his now crooked glasses from me, adjusts them, and places them back on his nose.

I dig a hole in the ground with the tip of my black Converse sneaker. When the dirt won’t allow my foot to wedge any deeper, I say, I wasn’t throwing the ball at you. I threw it at Angelina ’cause it looked like she threw the ball at me … and she was laughing! As soon as the words leave my mouth, I know I sound ridiculous. I’m instantly humiliated.

I did not throw the ball at you! Angelina shouts.

She didn’t. Alexis, Angelina’s sidekick, comes to her rescue. Josh kicked it and it accidentally hit Stephanie in the face.

Thanks for the explanation, Alexis.

Mr. B squeezes his forehead with his fingers the way all teachers do when they’re aggravated.

Well, it seemed like she threw it at me … ’cause she was laughing. Using the word seemed does not help my case. I know Mr. B isn’t going to understand my impulsive reaction to this situation. I’ve been like this for as long as I can remember. I don’t think. I just act.

He shakes his head. First of all, your aim is horrible. Second, what am I going to do with you, Stephanie?

I hear this phrase frequently. It’s usually accompanied with You have so much potential, or Why are you rushing through your work? But my personal favorite is You’re so smart, but you make poor choices. No other student at Harrison hears that kind of stuff. Like I said, I know I’m different.

Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, I repeat in my head as each of my classmates’ eyes burn a hole through my body. Am I going to pass out? The anxious thought enters my brain, and for a second and I feel like I just might. It’s suddenly really hard to breathe.

Mr. B sighs.

Uh oh. Here comes the lecture.

I’m … sorry, I whisper and swallow hard.

Thank you, but you also need to tell Angelina you are sorry too. Violence is never the answer. He turns toward Angelina. Angelina, apologize to Stephanie for laughing at her. That was very disrespectful. We don’t laugh at others’ misfortunes.

Mr. B is all about respect. He manages to find a reason to bring it up any time one of us has a disagreement with another student. He always says, You don’t have to like someone but you should respect them.

Angelina glares at me and snaps, Sorry, Steph. It’s the most insincere apology ever.

That’s okay. I’m sorry too, I mumble, matching her insincerity.

I cannot stand Angelina, and I know she hates me too. There was no defining moment when our dislike for each other began. It was an immediate mutual vibe when we started at Harrison together.

I won't call anyone’s parents because I’m the only one who got hurt. He pauses and catches my stare. I’ll let this one slide, Stephanie, but if anything else happens, I’m definitely giving your parents a call. These incidents are happening more frequently. Last week you slammed your chair into the wall when you got a C on your test, and the week before that you spit out a chewed carrot onto Tanya’s lunch tray because you thought it tasted gross.

I grimace, knowing everything he’s saying is completely true, but a wave of relief sweeps over me. He’s not going to call my parents! Whew.

Alright, class, let’s get it together and go inside. Recess is over anyway. Mr. B flails his hands around, summoning us to follow him. Now that he’s finished lecturing me, I let out a long sigh.

These so-called incidents Mr. B talked about don’t just happen at school. They happen at home too, and I’m definitely on thin ice there as well.

My parents said if I get into trouble again, I won’t be able to use any of my electronics, see my friends, or craft for an entire week. That would legit stink!

We gather into something that sort of resembles a line. Everyone is extra quiet, or at least it feels that way to me. It’s like everyone hates me. I notice my friends keeping their distance too as they shuffle into school. Normally, we wait for each other so we can talk more before class starts.

As Angelina and Alexis jog up the stairs, Angelina glares at me over her shoulder. It pierces through my skin like a paper cut. Quick and painful.

I want to cry—like ugly cry—but I swallow past the lump in my throat. It feels like I’ve just swallowed the ocean. There’s no way I’m showing anyone in class, especially Angelina, that I’m embarrassed or upset.

While we walk up the stairs to our classroom, Angelina leans over to whisper in Alexis’s ear. They quickly turn their heads to look at me and then burst into a fit of giggles.

Someone tugs my hair. I stop mid-step and turn around. It’s Max. Don’t worry about Angelina, bud. People get in fights over sports all the time. Have you ever watched a hockey game? Fighting is like fifty percent of the game. The best players are usually in the penalty box. It’s no big deal.

Max always manages to make me smile. For a second I believed everyone was ignoring me because of my behavior. And he’s right. Sports fights are totally normal. Nothing to be ashamed of.

Smiling, I smooth a hand over my hair. Thanks, Max.

He tugs my locks again. Anytime, bud.

Bus 330 drops my brother Frankie and me off on the corner of our block. Frankie tested into Harrison this year. He’s a year younger and a lot smarter, but I’ll never admit that out loud.

Our shoes slap against the sidewalk in sync, creating a rhythmic beat as we walk. The sound distracts me