Read Geek Chic for Free Online Page B

great-grandpop’s).
    Well, actually … no.
    The Executive Editor Person picks up a magazine from the conference table and opens the pages to where the green sticky notes are stuck.
    “Zoey, I’m sure by now you’ve seen all the photographs of you in the issue of
U Grl.”
    “You mean, my hat … and bowling shirt … and …”
    “sneakers!”
    A girl named China comes forward and twirls in purple Chucks.
    That taco isn’t feeling too good right about now. The orange juice is doing slosh-dancing in my digestive tract too.
    The Following Is a Public Service Factoid: Complete digestion actually takes a while to occur in the human body. After swallowing, food goes down the esophagus in approximately five seconds, but it hangs around in your stomach for a couple of hours. Then travels on.
    (
No need for further explanation
)
    “Zoey, when we put our last issue together, we never thought we would get the kind of response that we did—but we did.”
    I look at Jazz and hear my stomach grumble. “You didn’t? I mean, you did?”
    “We did. And most of the responses were about you.”
    Grumble. “Me?”
    “In fact, we received so many emails, it crashed our server.”
    Venus sucks in more air. “It did?”
    “It did,” says Jazz. “We had questions about the hat, bowling shirt, frogs, crossword puzzles—we must have gotten hundreds of questions from girls wanting to know about Louisa May Alcott.”
    “Well, she is a very good writer.”
    “Yes, we know,” says EEP. “And now a whole lot of other girls, who perhaps didn’t know before, know that too.”
    Jazz points. “Do you see that huge pile of letters at the end of the table?”
    I nod and stomach-grumble. Stomach-grumble and nod.
    “Well, those are only a sampling of the ones we received from girls all over the country. Go on, Zoey. Read a couple.”
    I do.
    She’s right.
    They did.
    This is now:
    OFFICIALLY WEIRD.
    “I’m not sure I understand any of this.”
    The Executive Editor Person with short, white hair laughs. (
Weirder, because none of this is funny.
)
    “Zoey,
U Grl
celebrates girls who are unique. Girls who are thoughtful. Curious. Girls who are inventive. Smart. Girls who
do.
Girls who
think.
And girls who have their own style and flair while doing it. Since the last issue came out, our readers have been telling us—that’s you.”
    Backspace
. Did she say …
me
?
    I look at Venus and Aunt Rootie. They look like they could make a bathroom trip too.
    “But-but-but-but…uh …”
    “Yes, Zoey?”
    “Well … the thing is …I mean … you know … do you know? … I’m only not even eleven. And I don’t even know anything about accessorization either. Unless you count duct tape. Oh, yes, sure, maybe I’m good at making woven backpacks, but that’s it. Okay, one wallet too. But that’s it! And let me tell you, I don’t look good in pink. At all. I’m a green person.”
    I take off the fedora. “Look, look! I don’t know how to use a round brush except to paint watercolors, and Venus is way better at that than I am. I tried gel, and it was a fiasco-disasco. Ask Venus. She’ll tell you.”
    Venus nods. “It wasn’t good.”
    Jazz laughs. “But Zoey, you do know lots of other things. And that’s what’s interesting to us at
U Grl.
And to our readers. They’re interested inall sorts of different things.”
    “Even the presidents of the United States?”
    “Well, I don’t know if anyone is as interested in that particular subject as you are, but that’s fine.”
    “It is?”
    Jazz motions to a person with a bowling shirt that has “Bebe” embroidered on the pocket. She fans out big boards on the table.
    “Here are some layout ideas for the spreads we want to feature in upcoming issues. Hoyt—you remember my assistant, don’t you?” Hoyt waves. “He remembered the books in your locker; and we had all the photos that Maya took during the photo shoot, so we got our inspiration from them.”
    Jazz picks up one of