Halfway to Perfect Read online

  HALFWAY

  TO

  PERFECT

  A DYAMONDE DANIEL Book

  Also by Nikki Grimes

  Jazmin’s Notebook

  Bronx Masquerade

  The Road to Paris

  Make Way for Dyamonde Daniel

  Rich: A Dyamonde Daniel Book

  Almost Zero: A Dyamonde Daniel Book

  HALFWAY

  TO

  PERFECT

  A DYAMONDE DANIEL Book

  Nikki Grimes

  illustrated by

  R. Gregory Christie

  G. P. Putnam’s Sons

  An Imprint of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS

  A division of Penguin Young Readers Group.

  Published by The Penguin Group.

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, NY 10014, U.S.A.

  Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto,

  Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.).

  Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England.

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  (a division of Penguin Books Ltd).

  Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty Ltd).

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  New Delhi—110 017, India.

  Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, Auckland 0632, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd).

  Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty) Ltd, 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa.

  Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England.

  Text copyright © 2012 by Nikki Grimes.

  Illustrations copyright © 2012 by R. Gregory Christie.

  All rights reserved. This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission in writing from the publisher, G. P. Putnam’s Sons, a division of Penguin Young Readers Group, 345 Hudson Street, New York, NY 10014.

  G. P. Putnam’s Sons, Reg. U.S. Pat. & Tm. Off. The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Grimes, Nikki. Halfway to perfect : a Dyamonde Daniel book / Nikki Grimes; illustrated by R. Gregory Christie. p. cm. Summary: Despite what Dyamonde and Free say, Damaris worries that she is getting fat, until a classmate’s problem with diabetes causes her to change her thoughts about body image.

  [1. Body image—Fiction. 2. Diabetes—Fiction. 3. Schools—Fiction. 4. African Americans—Fiction.] I. Christie, R. Gregory, 1971– ill. II. Title.

  PZ7.G88429Hal 2012 [E]—dc23 2011045960

  ISBN: 978-1-101-65727-0

  ALWAYS LEARNING PEARSON

  For Eden Del Valle,

  who is perfect in every way.

  —N.G.

  To Amy “Amethyst” Hagan

  —R.G.C.

  Contents

  The World of Dyamonde Daniel

  1. Spaghetti Heaven

  2. The Girl in the Mirror

  3. Crazy for Carrots

  4. Coney Island Surprise

  5. This Little Piggy

  6. Feeling Faint

  7. D Is for Diabetes

  8. Beehive

  9. A Heavy Heart

  10. Better than Normal

  “Young readers will wish they had a friend like Dyamonde.”

  —Kirkus Reviews

  The World of Dyamonde Daniel

  Dyamonde

  This third-grader loves food, especially her mom’s home cooking! Dyamonde is super smart, but even she doesn’t have all the answers—and she wonders why looks are so important to some people.

  Free

  Dyamonde’s best friend has a bottomless stomach—this boy sure can eat. He can’t imagine going on a diet. He always has room for more!

  Damaris

  She has a million amazing qualities, but lately she’s been feeling less than sure of herself—so it might be time for Dyamonde to remind her that she’s perfect just the way she is.

  Amberline

  Amberline acts like she doesn’t want any friends. She doesn’t seem to care what anyone thinks of her, but could there be more to her story than her classmates realize?

  The Three T’s

  Tanya, Tylisha and Tameeka talk about the most ridiculous things, like how important it is to look and act a certain way. They haven’t yet learned that it’s what’s inside that counts.

  Dyamonde’s mom

  Nothing beats her spaghetti and meatballs, except maybe her Saturday morning pancakes. But sometimes she has to remind her super-smart daughter that veggies are great, too!

  Spaghetti Heaven

  You’d never know it to look at her skinny little self, but Dyamonde loves food. If there were a class in eating, she’d get an A plus every time.

  Dyamonde treats all food fairly. She likes Mexican tacos, Chinese egg rolls, and Cuban beans and rice. She eats beef hot dogs, turkey burgers and fried chicken. Actually, she likes just about anything that has chicken in it: noodle soup, potpie, even chicken salad sandwiches.

  Dyamonde doesn’t have much use for vegetables, but she loves broccoli, mostly because each spear looks like a tree. And she loves fruit—especially peaches, cherries, and grapes of any size or color. Dyamonde also loves some foods that other people don’t, like cottage cheese and applesauce mixed together.

  “Yuck!” said Free the first time he saw her eat some.

  “Oh, puleeze!” said Dyamonde, stirring in a little more applesauce. “You just wish you had a bowlful!”

  Yes, Dyamonde loves all sorts of food, but her absolute favorite food in the whole wide world is spaghetti and meatballs with garlic bread. And guess what Mrs. Daniel had made the last time Free and Damaris came over?

  Dyamonde couldn’t wait to sit down for dinner. The minute the bowl of spaghetti was placed on the table, Dyamonde’s mouth began to water. Free licked his lips and reached for the bowl.

  Dyamonde cut her eyes at Free with a look that said, Not yet! Damaris closed her eyes and waited until Mrs. Daniel finished saying grace, then she reached for the basket of garlic bread.

  “Don’t forget the salad,” said Mrs. Daniel. Dyamonde scrunched up her nose, but she grabbed a few lettuce leaves to make her mom happy. Free plucked out a couple of tomatoes and a slice of cucumber, but Damaris filled up her whole salad plate.

  “Yum,” said Damaris.

  “Double yum!” said Free, his mouth already smeared with spaghetti sauce.

  “Gross!” said Dyamonde. But Free ignored her. He was too busy making his tummy happy.

  Mrs. Daniel smiled, especially when Damaris asked for seconds.

  Free looked like one of those cartoon chipmunks, his cheeks were so full of food. Mrs. Daniel shook her head.

  “Free, if you don’t watch it,” she said, “you’ll blow up like a balloon!”

  “Yeah,” said Dyamonde. “Then I’ll have to poke a hole in you and watch you fly around the room backwards till all the air comes out!”

  Dyamonde and Free looked at each other and laughed.

  Damaris didn’t laugh, though. She just put down her fork, saying she was full.

  �
�What about dessert?” asked Mrs. Daniel. “You saved room for that, didn’t you?”

  “No, thank you,” whispered Damaris. “I think I’ve had enough.”

  Free shrugged. “More for me!” he said, grinning. But something in Damaris’s voice bothered Dyamonde.

  “Are you okay?” she asked her friend.

  Damaris nodded, so Dyamonde let it drop.

  The Girl in the Mirror

  Dyamonde was amazed at the silly things kids talked about at school. Take the next day. Dyamonde was in the girls’ room, taking care of her business, when she overheard three girls blabbing away over the loud sputter of the water faucet going full blast. It was the Three T’s, Tanya, Tylisha and Tameeka. Dyamonde would know their voices anywhere. Damaris was there too, but Dyamonde didn’t know it.

  “Well, I may be the youngest in class,” said Tylisha, “but I also weigh the least.”

  “So what?” said Tanya. “I’m the most popular.”

  “You wish!” said Tylisha.

  “Ugh!” said Tanya. “I’ve got to go on a diet. I don’t want to turn into a little piggy like Amberline.”

  “She’s not that big,” said Tameeka.

  “Are you kidding? Have you seen her pouchy belly?” asked Tylisha.

  “Oh,” said Tameeka. “Yeah.”

  “She must be stuffing her face when no one’s watching,” said Tanya.

  “Like when she’s by herself,” said Tameeka.

  “Which is all the time, since nobody wants to be her friend,” said Tylisha.

  “I know!” said Tameeka. “It’s sad.”

  “Well, it’s her own fault,” said Tylisha. “That’s what she gets for being so pushy.”

  After that, Dyamonde heard the faucet switch off. The girls’ voices faded away as the three left, their sneakers squeaking against the tile floor.

  Dyamonde straightened her clothes and went to wash her hands. That’s when she saw Damaris pinching her waist and frowning at her reflection in the mirror.

  “What’s the matter?” asked Dyamonde.

  Damaris dropped her arms to her sides when she realized Dyamonde was there staring at her.

  “You scared me!” said Damaris.

  “Sorry,” said Dyamonde. “But what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” said Damaris, switching on the faucet.

  “Then how come your face is all scrunched up like you’re about ready to cry?”

  Damaris bit her lip, scrubbing her hands as if they had never been washed.

  “It’s no big deal,” she said.

  Dyamonde wasn’t having it. She knew something was wrong. She crossed her arms and waited, staring Damaris down.

  After a minute of this, Damaris felt her shoulders sag. She dried her hands and turned to face her friend.

  “I think I’m getting fat,” said Damaris, almost in a whisper.

  Dyamonde blinked. “What?”

  “I think I’m getting fat.”

  Dyamonde started to laugh, but Damaris gave her such a sharp look, Dyamonde stopped mid-giggle.

  “I’m sorry,” said Dyamonde, “but who told you that?”

  “Nobody. But you heard them call Amberline a piggy, right?”

  Dyamonde nodded.

  “Well, I’m practically the same size as Amberline, so I must look like a piggy too.”

  “No, you don’t!” said Dyamonde. “They were just being mean. Amberline is not fat, and neither are you.”

  Damaris did not look convinced.

  Dyamonde put her hands on Damaris’s shoulders and spun her around to face the mirror again.

  “Look at you,” said Dyamonde. “You are perfect just the way you are.”

  Dyamonde gave Damaris a squeeze.

  “Maybe not as perfect as me,” said Dyamonde, “but you’re at least halfway, and that’s pretty close!”

  Damaris was surprised to see her lips curling into a little smile.

  Dyamonde bumped hips with her. “Let’s get out of here,” she said.

  Damaris followed Dyamonde out into the hall. Dyamonde didn’t know it, but by the time the girls reached homeroom, Damaris’s smile had slipped away.

  Crazy for Carrots

  “Ooooh!” said Dyamonde later that day when she and her friends entered the lunchroom. “Check out the menu. They’ve got chicken nuggets and mashed potatoes. Yum!” Dyamonde licked her lips. Her taste buds began to sing before she’d even taken the first bite.

  “Now this is what I’m talking about!” said Free, digging in. “This is way better than that nasty meat loaf they had yesterday.” Those were the last words Free spoke until his plate was clean. He was too busy shoveling food into his mouth to talk.

  “Dang, Free!” said Dyamonde. “You act like you’ve never seen food before in your life!” Free grunted and stuffed another forkful of food into his mouth.

  Hopeless, thought Dyamonde.

  Just then, Tylisha passed by, took one look at the plate in front of Damaris and whispered in her ear, “If I had your hips, I’d skip the mashed potatoes.” Then she joined Tanya and Tameeka at another table.

  Damaris winced.

  “What?” asked Dyamonde. “What did she say?”

  Damaris made herself shrug. “Nothing,” she said.

  Dyamonde didn’t believe her, but she didn’t press.

  Damaris glanced around the cafeteria and noticed Amberline sitting nearby, nibbling on a carrot. Damaris immediately sucked in her stomach and sat up a little straighter. Then she picked up a baby carrot with her fork and took a teensy bite.

  “Summer break is almost here,” said Damaris.

  “Three weeks!” said Dyamonde.

  “You know what that means,” said Damaris.

  “Picnics,” said Dyamonde.

  “Trips to the zoo,” said Damaris.

  “Italian ices!” said Dyamonde.

  “The city swimming pool!” said Damaris.

  “Cotton candy,” said Dyamonde.

  Both girls put their forks down. “Coney Island!” they said in one voice.

  Free burped loud enough to remind them that he was there.

  “You did not just do that!” said Dyamonde.

  “What?” asked Free, all innocent.

  “Oh, puleeze!” said Dyamonde. She shook her head. That boy has no manners!

  Dyamonde turned her attention back to her meal, stabbing her fork into one chicken nugget after another until they were all gone. She was scraping the last bit of potato off her plate when she noticed that Damaris’s plate was still full.

  “Why aren’t you eating?” asked Dyamonde.

  “What are you talking about?” asked Damaris. “Didn’t you just see me make those carrots disappear?”

  “Yeah, but you hardly touched anything else,” said Dyamonde.

  “Well,” said Damaris, “I guess I’m just not that hungry.”

  “Okay,” said Dyamonde, not sure whether to believe her friend.

  “Hey, if you’re not eating those nuggets, can I have ’em?” asked Free.

  Damaris nodded, pushing her plate across the table. She finished off her carrots and then the three friends headed out to the school yard until the bell rang.

  Dyamonde stole a few glances at Damaris, wondering if her friend had told the truth about not being hungry. Dyamonde got her answer back in the classroom when she heard her friend’s stomach growl.

  For the next couple of days, Dyamonde studied Damaris at lunchtime to see how much she ate, and every day she watched Damaris move food around her plate without actually eating more than a bite or two. Dyamonde started to worry about her friend, especially when she noticed Damaris’s blue jeans starting to sag.

  “I know what you’re doing,” Dyamonde whispered to her one afternoon. “You’re dieting, aren’t you?” It was more of an accusation than a question.

  Damaris shrugged. “So what?”

  “I knew it!” said Dyamonde. “But why?”

  “You wouldn’t understand,” sai
d Damaris. “You’re already like a toothpick, but I need to lose weight.”

  “No,” said Dyamonde, “you don’t. I already told you that you are fine just the way you are.”

  Damaris shook her head. “You’re just saying that because you’re my friend.”

  “No, I’m not,” said Dyamonde. “I mean, yeah, I’m your friend. But that’s not why I said it.”

  “Look, I don’t want to talk about this anymore, okay?” begged Damaris.

  “Okay,” said Dyamonde. But it wasn’t. Dyamonde was worried about her friend. She’d seen pictures of girls who practically looked like skeletons from dieting too much. She didn’t want to see that happen to Damaris.

  I wish I could make Damaris see herself like I do, thought Dyamonde. But how?

  Coney Island Surprise

  “Your birthday is coming up next weekend,” said Mrs. Daniel over dinner, as if Dyamonde weren’t counting down the days. “I was wondering if you’d thought about what you’d like to do on Saturday to celebrate, where you’d like to—”

  “Coney Island!” said Dyamonde.

  “Well,” said Mrs. Daniel, “that was easy.”

  “And can I bring Free and Damaris? Please, please, please?”

  Mrs. Daniel smiled. “I’ll give their parents a call.”

  Dyamonde bounced up and down on her chair, too excited to speak.

  At ten o’clock Saturday morning, the foursome set foot on the Coney Island boardwalk. The minute they were there, Dyamonde remembered the Coney Island fun-house mirrors.

  That’s it! thought Dyamonde. If Damaris looks at herself in all those different mirrors, maybe she’ll understand that there are different ways of seeing herself and they’re not all real. Anyway, it’s worth a try. I’ll take her by the mirrors later.

  The first thing Dyamonde did was to make a dash for the carousel. Free called it a baby ride, but Dyamonde didn’t care. She loved it, and so did Damaris. The Ferris wheel came next, then the roller coaster. Free and Dyamonde braved that alone, leaving Damaris and Mrs. Daniel waving to them from the ground. All that riding in circles and screaming their lungs out on the roller coaster made everyone hungry. Dyamonde’s mom told her she could have whatever she wanted.