It all started when I got up from the lunch table to toss my carrot juice can in the trash.

"What are you doing， Jody？" my best friend Shannon asked. "You know that&apos；s recyclable." She shook her head sadly， like my dad did the time I made a smoothie1） and forgot to put the lid on the blender.

"But there&apos；s no recycling bin，" I complained. "What am I supposed to do， carry it around？" As soon as the words left my mouth， I knew I&apos；d made a mistake. I recognized the look on Shannon&apos；s face： the puckered2） mouth， the knitted eyebrows， the scrunched-up nose. She had a plan.

"Hand it over，" Shannon ordered， snatching the can from me. （Did I mention she could be a little bossy？）

Shannon collected three cans from our class that day. The next day， she came prepared for more. She filled one reusable grocery bag during lunch， and half of another after school. By the end of the week， we were hauling four sticky， stinky bags of cans home.

But I guess Shannon got a little tired of the whole thing. Or maybe her mom got mad about her sticky clothes. All I know is， Shannon made an appointment with Mrs. Yim. I&apos；d never heard of a kid wanting to see the principal—but Shannon was different. And she was determined to get recycling bins for Fletcher Elementary.

Shannon must have convinced Mrs. Yim， because soon the playground was dotted with tall green containers. Plus， Shannon had a new nickname： The Can Queen. （She liked it better than her old one： The Mouth.）

With the money earned from the first month of recycling， Mrs. Yim promised the school a pizza party. All the kids were into recycling after that.

Except for one.

Tara Conrad had transferred to Fletcher the year before. She liked butterfly barrettes3）， strawberry-scented lip balm， and tripping people during P.E. （I knew from experience.） Tara wasn&apos；t big on recycling. More than once， Shannon had picked up a can she&apos；d tossed on the ground. But not even Shannon would dare lecture Tara the Terrible.

One afternoon Shannon and I overheard the school custodian， Mr. Ray， talking to Mrs. Yim. "Yesterday was the third day there were no cans，" Mr. Ray said. "Who&apos；s emptying the recycling bins—and why？"

As they headed into Mrs. Yim&apos；s office， Shannon grabbed my hand. "Come on，" she said. "No one messes with my cans or my pizza party！" Shannon may be bossy， but she&apos；s never boring.

We walked up and down the hallways looking for clues until we spotted Tara the Terrible. As we watched， Tara banged a can against a wall. Instantly it flat-tened into a disk that she tossed into her daisy-patterned backpack.

Shannon ran right up to Tara. "Stop！ Thief！" she shouted. I gulped so hard I nearly choked. No one yelled at Tara the Terrible.

But Tara just grinned. Somehow that made her even more terrifying. "Hey， Mouth，" she said.

"Quit calling me that！" Shannon squealed. "And you better quit stealing my cans."

"Who， me？" Tara smacked another can flat and flipped it into her backpack.

"You！ Yes！ What—why—" Shannon sputtered4）.

Smack. Flip. "Whatever. Who&apos；s gonna stop me？" Tara heaved up her back-pack and strolled away.

I silently pleaded that this would be the end of the whole mess. Silly me.

"Let&apos；s go！" Shannon said， grabbing my hand again. We trailed Tara the Terrible down Maple， onto Orange Street， until she shoved through a gate. Shannon jerked to a stop. We didn&apos；t take another step until we heard a door slam. Then we slipped up to the gate and read the sign： YWCA. A banner hung from the roof. "Recycle your cans here"， it said in big red letters. "Support Our Fundraiser！"

"That weasel5） was stealing the cans—and bringing them here！" Shannon said.

Tara kicked the boys who teased her， and said snotty6） things to the girls who wouldn&apos；t let her play hopscotch with them. And yeah， she had stolen the cans from school. But donating them to the Y seemed kind of nice. Criminal， but nice.

"Stealing our cans is low， even for her！" Shannon added.

"But they&apos；re not our cans，" I muttered7）.

Shannon shot me a look.

"They&apos；re not！" I blurted. "We only wanted to help the environment. It doesn&apos；t matter who gets the recycling money. Does it？"

Shannon didn&apos；t say a word as we trudged home.

At school the next morning， both Shannon&apos；s and Tara&apos；s seats were empty. I gulped， picturing Shannon alone with the bully. Tickle torture. Noogies8）. Nothing was too awful for that kid. But then， just as the bell rang， Shannon slipped into the classroom.

With Tara.

And they were smiling.

Huh？

Suddenly Mrs. Yim&apos；s voice boomed over the loudspeaker.

"Students， our recycling program has been a great success！ Friday will be our school-wide pizza party."

The whole class cheered—except me. I was still wondering how I&apos；d stumbled into some alternate universe where Tara the Terrible and The Can Queen were pals.

"And next month，" Mrs. Yim continued， "our recycling program will benefit the YWCA&apos；s fundraiser to build a new playground. Keep up the good work！"

My mouth dropped open， just in time for Shannon to notice my confusion.

"I called Tara last night，" Shannon said. "Once we stopped yelling at each other， she told me about the YWCA. Her mom works there. They help lots of needy families."

"Yeah，" Tara piped in9）. "With The Mouth&apos；s mouth and my power， maybe we can， you know， do stuff. Good stuff."

Then Shannon leaned over to me and whispered， "You were right， Jody."

I just sat there， gaping like a goofball.

The bully and The Can Queen—business partners？

Tara—a bully with a heart of gold （or at least aluminum）？

Me—"right"？！

Tara glanced at me and grinned， so close I could smell her strawberry lip balm. Cautiously I smiled back. Maybe things really were going to be different now！ Then Shannon slipped a note onto my desk， and another onto Tara&apos；s.

"I have an idea： unbeatable kickball kickers！" I read. "First practice at lunch."

A new idea so soon？ This was fast， even for Shannon. I glanced up just in time to see Tara give her a high five.

Yep—things were definitely going to be different.

一切開始于我從午餐桌旁起身，打算把我喝完的胡蘿卜汁易拉罐扔進垃圾桶里的那一刻。

“你在干嗎，喬迪？”我最好的朋友香農(nóng)問?！澳阒滥鞘强苫厥盏??！彼龘u搖頭，表情難過，就像那次我做奶昔忘了把攪拌機的蓋子蓋上時我爸的反應(yīng)一樣。

“可是這里沒有可回收垃圾箱啊，”我抱怨道，“我該怎么辦，走哪兒把它帶哪兒？”這話剛出口，我就知道我犯了個錯。我察覺到了香農(nóng)臉上的表情：嘴巴撅起，雙眉緊鎖，鼻子皺著。她打算做點什么。

“給我?！?香農(nóng)命令道，一把奪走了我手中的易拉罐。（我說沒說過她會有點專橫？）

那天香農(nóng)從我們班收集了三個易拉罐。第二天，她有備而來，打算收集更多。午餐時她把一個環(huán)保購物袋都裝滿了，放學(xué)后又收了半袋。到那周結(jié)束時，我們拖著四個又粘又臭、裝滿易拉罐的袋子回了家。

不過我猜香農(nóng)對這整件事有點厭倦了。也可能是她媽媽對她那黏糊糊的衣服大為惱火。我只知道，香農(nóng)約好了要去見嚴女士。我從沒聽說過有哪個孩子想見校長的，但香農(nóng)與眾不同。她下定決心要為弗萊徹小學(xué)爭取到可回收垃圾箱。

香農(nóng)一定已經(jīng)說服了嚴女士，因為沒過多久操場上就點綴了許多高高的綠色箱子。另外，香農(nóng)也得到了一個新外號：易拉罐女王。（比起她原來的外號“大嘴巴”，她更喜歡這個。）

嚴女士向全校承諾，用回收易拉罐第一個月賺的錢舉辦一個比薩派對。在那之后，所有的孩子都加入了易拉罐回收行動。

只有一個人例外。

塔拉·康拉德是一年前轉(zhuǎn)學(xué)到弗萊徹小學(xué)的。她喜歡戴蝴蝶發(fā)卡，涂草莓味潤唇膏，還喜歡在體育課上給人使絆子（我的經(jīng)驗之談）。塔拉對回收易拉罐毫無興趣，香農(nóng)不止一次撿起過她丟在地上的易拉罐。不過即使是香農(nóng)也不敢教訓(xùn)“可怕的塔拉”。

一天下午，我和香農(nóng)無意中聽到學(xué)校管理員雷先生和嚴女士的對話?！白蛱焓堑谌鞗]有易拉罐了?！崩紫壬f?！笆钦l清空了可回收垃圾箱呢？這么做是為什么呢？”

他們朝著嚴女士的辦公室走去，香農(nóng)一把抓住我的手?！案襾?，”她說，“誰也不能給我的易拉罐或是比薩派對搗亂！”香農(nóng)可能是有點專橫，但她從不讓人厭煩。

我們在走廊上走來走去尋找線索，直到我們發(fā)現(xiàn)“可怕的塔拉”。我們看到她的時候，她正把一個易拉罐朝墻上猛砸。易拉罐立刻就變得像碟片一樣扁平，她隨手將其扔進那有雛菊圖案的背包里。

香農(nóng)徑直跑到塔拉面前。“住手！你這個小偷！”她大聲說。我驚得倒吸了一口氣，差點窒息。從來沒有人沖“可怕的塔拉” 叫喊。

但塔拉只是咧嘴一笑，不知為什么，這讓她變得更可怕了。“你好啊，大嘴巴。”她說。

“不準再那么叫我！”香農(nóng)尖聲說?！澳阕詈靡矂e再偷我的易拉罐?！?/p>

“誰，我嗎？“塔拉把另一個易拉罐砸扁，丟進她包里。

“你！就是你！你干嗎——為什么——”香農(nóng)氣得語無倫次。

又一個易拉罐被砸扁一丟?！肮苣隳亍Ｕl會來阻攔我？”塔拉提起她的背包，大搖大擺地走了。

我暗暗祈禱整件糟心事到此為止。我太傻了。

“我們走！”香農(nóng)說，又抓起我的手。我們尾隨“可怕的塔拉”經(jīng)過梅普爾街到奧林奇街，直到她擠進了一扇門。香農(nóng)立刻停下。直到聽到關(guān)門聲我們才又向前走。我們悄悄來到那扇門前，看到上面有個標志：YWCA。一個條幅從屋頂上垂下來，上面用紅色的大字寫著：請在這里回收易拉罐，支持我們的募捐活動！

“那個卑鄙小人一直在偷易拉罐，然后拿到這里來！”香農(nóng)說。

塔拉會踢打捉弄她的男孩，會對不讓她一起玩跳房子的女孩說傲慢無禮的話。而且沒錯，她還從學(xué)校偷易拉罐。但是把易拉罐捐給YWCA組織似乎還不錯——雖然不光彩，但并不壞。

“偷我們的易拉罐實在太卑鄙了，即使對她來說也卑鄙！”香農(nóng)繼續(xù)說。

“但那些也不是我們的易拉罐?！蔽亦絿伒?。

香農(nóng)狠狠地瞪我一眼。

“那些確實不是我們的！”我脫口而出，“我們只是想為環(huán)境做點好事。誰拿到回收易拉罐的錢無所謂，不是嗎？”

我們邁著沉重的步伐回家，路上香農(nóng)一個字也沒說。

第二天早上在學(xué)校，香農(nóng)和塔拉的位子都空著。我深吸口氣，想象著香農(nóng)一個人面對那個小混混。撓癢癢，崩腦瓜。塔拉什么壞事都做得出來。但是，就在鈴聲響起時，香農(nóng)溜進了教室。

和塔拉一起。

她倆還在笑。

什么情況？

突然，嚴女士洪亮的聲音從揚聲器里傳來。

“孩子們，我們的回收行動非常成功！本周五我們將會舉行全校比薩派對。”

全班都在歡呼——除了我。我還在疑惑自己是怎么一不小心進入了另一個世界，在這個世界里，“可怕的塔拉”和“易拉罐女王”是朋友。

“下個月，”嚴女士繼續(xù)說，“我們的回收行動會幫助YWCA組織的募捐活動，目標是建一個新操場。大家繼續(xù)加油！”

我驚訝地張大了嘴，正好讓香農(nóng)注意到了我的疑惑。

“昨晚我給塔拉打了電話，”香農(nóng)說，“在我們倆不再沖對方大喊大叫之后，她告訴了我關(guān)于YWCA的事情。她媽媽在那里工作，他們幫助很多需要接濟的家庭。”

“沒錯，”塔拉加入了我們的對話，“有大嘴巴的嘴皮子和我的能力，也許我們能，你知道的，做點什么事。好事?！?/p>

然后香農(nóng)靠過來小聲對我說：“你是對的，喬迪?！?/p>

我只是坐在那里，嘴巴大張，像個傻瓜。

小混混和易拉罐女王——商業(yè)伙伴？

塔拉——一個有著金子（或者至少是鋁）般心靈的小混混？

我——“是對的”？！

塔拉瞥了我一眼，咧嘴一笑，我們距離很近，我能聞到她的草莓味唇膏。我也小心翼翼地朝她笑了笑。也許現(xiàn)在事情真的要變得不一樣了！香農(nóng)偷偷往我桌上放了張紙條，又往塔拉桌上放了一張。

“我有個主意：成為不可戰(zhàn)勝的足球球員！”我讀著紙條，“午餐時間進行第一次練習(xí)?！?/p>

這么快就有了新主意？即使對香農(nóng)來說，這也太快了。我抬頭一瞥，正好看到塔拉和香農(nóng)擊掌。

沒錯——事情絕對會變得不一樣。