If a Tree Falls at Lunch Period (6 page)

How do I tell her that I'm a loose piece that doesn't fit anywhere? How do I say the world is whole without me?

"Sure, Mom," I tell her.

When she goes out, she's smiling like she's just earned 150 mother points for solving this for me.

The door closes behind her. The room is dark. I stare at the line of light leaking through the bottom of the door.

Sylvia is at the Y doing her Jazzercise class. Walk has the door wide open, the fan on high, but it doesn't help. It's really hot today. Why didn't he go with Sylvia? He could be in the pool right now instead of sweating over his homework.

Jamal pulls up in a black SUV with tinted windows. He's up front and this big Terminator guy's driving. Jamal has friends who drive? He's only thirteen.

B.T., who was in City with Walk, jumps out of the back. B.T. always acts cool like he doesn't know Walk. Today he's pulling along a little suitcase on wheels. What's he got that for? Is he moving in here?

Walk slides his homework under the chair cushion.

"What you doin' here, Jamal?" Walk asks.

"That's all you got for me? Where is the love, man?" Jamal's boys plunk down in the living room. The Terminator guy grabs the remote.

"No AC?" B.T. scowls.

Walk shrugs.

The Terminator flips through the channels. Stops at
Rugrats.
"Hey, man, I love these little dudes." He pulls off his do-rag and settles in.

"Got some product to show you," Jamal tells Walk. "Really fine stuff. Not goin' to see this every day." He nods to B.T. B.T. unzips the suitcase.

"Product? What are you talkin' about, Jamal?" Walk asks.

"Tryin' to make some money, man. This is how you do it. I'ma show you." He cocks his small head. Earrings glisten in each ear.

Sweat drips down Walk's chest. He looks at the clock. "Sylvia be home any minute."

"So?" Jamal says.

"I don't do this stuff, Jamal."

"Everybody does this stuff. Don't you know anything?"

"Jamal, c'mon. Not here."

"This is how white people get rich. Seriously." Jamal smiles at him.

"No, it isn't."

"They don't get their hands dirty. They get other people do it for them. I'ma let you buy it first. Then we'll talk opportunities. This is a path paved with gold, man.
Paved with gold.
"

B.T. is unloading boxes now, different size boxes. All with one word on the top: AMWAY.

Laundry detergent, dishwashing detergent, brass cleaner, toilet cleaner, floor cleaner, sink cleanser.

Jamal nods. "Soap, man. First you sell. Then you get other people workin' for you and you know what happens when they sell? You make money without doin' one thing. Just sit on your booty and the money pours in."

"This is soap?" Walk asks.

"Not just soap. Best stuff there is. You can't buy this in any store anywhere. Not on the Web, either. You can only buy it from me."

"Yeah?" Walk says.

"Isn't anybody doesn't need soap. It's the American dream, man, right here. I've been to a weekend. They told me all about it."

Kirsten! Get up!" my mom calls from downstairs. I stick my head under the covers. "I've got the flu. I'm going to throw up," I tell her when she knocks on my door.

"Honey, Rory just wants more friends. That doesn't mean she doesn't want to be
your
friend. You two have had spats before and you've always patched them up."

My mother sounds so reasonable. I want to believe she's right.

I take a deep breath and reach for my brand-new boots. I didn't buy the Nordstrom ones because I couldn't get them over my calves. They just scrunched down like sloppy socks. But I got these other ones at Macy's. They're ankle high, real leather, and incredibly cute. If you took a picture of my feet, you wouldn't even know I'm fat.

"Kirsten!" I pull the duvet back over my head. "Honey?" My mom pokes her head in my door. "We're going to be late."

"I'm sick, Mom. I have the wastebasket right here. I'm going to throw up any minute. Any second!"

"Are you sure this isn't about Rory?" she asks, her eyes full of pain.

"I'm sure." I nod with too much enthusiasm.

My mom sighs and walks out. A few minutes later she's back, with the phone in her hand. "Kirsten, it's Rory. She wants to talk to you."

The phone hasn't rung. My mother called her mother. Can this get any more humiliating? I sit up in bed, take the phone, and wait until my mom leaves the room.

"Rory." My voice cracks.

"Brianna made me. She
forced
me," Rory says. "You have to forgive me, Kir. You have to."

Rory had a good reason. She did.

"You'll never believe what happened. Never," she says.

"Why did Brianna do it?" I ask.

"I'll tell you all about it
at school.
Your mom's going to drive us. C'mon, Kir, don't worry. This is all going to be fine."

It's so foggy on the way to Rory's house, my mom has her headlights on. She has to go really slow or she'll slam into someone on Rory's twisty road. Yesterday, it was blistering hot; today the fog came in and it's freezing.

I read to Kippy from
All About Electrical Storms.
She knows how to read as well as I do, but she still likes me to read to her. "Read the part about getting electrocuted in the bathtub, please!" she begs.

I've been reading out loud for the last five minutes but not a single word has entered my brain. My mom pulls into the carport next to Rory's mom's Mercedes SUV then backs out to turn around. I stay where I am next to Kippy and make Rory climb over me. I know this is rude but I don't care. I don't care that Rory sees me holding Kippy's hand, either. So what if she thinks I'm a baby. So what.

Rory gives a little wave to my mom. "Hi, Rachel." There's something so girlfriendy about the way Rory says my mom's name. This has always bothered me a little. Now it bothers me a lot.

Rory's eyes track to the long handwoven sweater I'm wearing that's really my mom's. She's never let me borrow it before and I'm really hoping it stays foggy, so I can keep it on all day. "Kirsten, you look so nice."

"She got new boots," Kippy blurts out. "See!" She points to my feet.

"Yeah. They're cool." Rory looks sideways at me—a scared sneak of a look.

"Aren't they darling?" my mom asks into the rear-view mirror.

"Rachel, my mom says to tell you she checked with Brianna's mom and Thursday morning right after drop-off is fine for the auction meeting."

"Perfect," my mom chirps.

This all sounded better on the phone. Like maybe Rory really did feel sorry. Like maybe it
was
all Brianna's fault.

When my mom pulls into the drop-off, I climb out and Kippy squeezes hard before she lets go.

"Thanks for the ride, Rachel. Bye, Kippy," Rory says.

The door closes. Kippy waves.

Don't leave me here. Please, couldn't you homeschool me?
But my mom has already pulled away.

"So." I can't look Rory straight in the eye.

"It was a mistake, Kirsten. An honest mistake."

I snort. "A mistake?"

"I thought I saw you take the wallet. But I was mistaken."

"What, it was my evil twin you saw?"

"Very funny."

"You said Brianna made you do it."

"She did." Rory's eyes are round. "She said she had to know if I was going to be their friend or not. She said it was all in fun and if you were really my friend you'd understand."

"
In fun?
"

Rory gets out her inhaler and puts it in her mouth. "Look"—she takes a gaspy breath—"I don't want to be in the middle of this. I just want to be everybody's friend. That's what nobody understands."

"You weren't responsible. You were just along for the ride."

"I didn't do anything."

Rage flashes inside me. "Brianna put Balderis's wallet in my backpack, right? And then you lied and said I stole it. That wasn't anything?"

"I said I
thought
I saw you do it."

"That doesn't make sense, Rory."

"You don't know what I thought, Kirsten."

I scuff my boots on the pavement. "So what are you going to tell the principal?"

"That I thought I saw you take the wallet, but I was mistaken."

"And Brianna, what is she going to say?"

Rory's cheek twitches. "How should I know what she's going to say? Look, it's not like
I'm
in this group. Madison is the only one who really likes me. I have to be careful, you know."

"Careful, huh? And what about me?"

"I've been telling them how nice you are."

"I thought you hated Brianna."

"I never said that."

"Only a million times."

Rory shrugs. "Look," she whispers like we're sharing a big secret, "they might give you a try. Your mom is pretty hooked in. She's already called my mom and Madison's mom and Brianna's mom."

"They might give me a try?
Because of my mom?
"

"If you want to be friends with us, maybe you can be. Just don't tell your mom again, all right? My mom, like, wigs over stuff like that."

"Rory! Kirsten!" Brianna is hurrying toward me, her cell in her hand. "I am so sorry. But I've already talked to Fishhouse about it. We've got it all squared away. And man, do you look cute. Look at those boots. Can I do your hair at lunch, because I'm thinking you'd look just darling with a wrap! Isn't she cute, Rory?" Brianna pets my hair like I'm a dog. "She is so cute."

"Thanks," I say. "But, um, what did you get squared away? I mean, what did you say to the principal?"

Brianna shrugs. "I just explained how we were playing hot potato with Balderis's wallet, which we should not have been doing. Definitely should not have." She shakes her head. "It just happened to end up in your backpack. It was naughty of us, wasn't it, Rory?"

Rory nods.

"But since no money was taken and since I was
'proactive'
about
'taking responsibility'
for my behavior ... That's what Fishhouse said. He said he'd take into consideration that he heard from me first, rather than from Balderis. And I apologized for getting carried away. You know how kids are."

Rory giggles.

Brianna clicks her lips, "Tsk, tsk, tsk. Then he said he was a kid once, too." She smiles. "Once they say that, you know you got 'em. And when they say, 'But if it happens again, there will be real trouble,' you know you got it, like, totally wrapped up. So that's it." She brushes her hands together like she's wiping herself free of this. "We're done. You don't even have to talk to him."

"Really?" I'm impressed despite myself.

Brianna smiles. "Yeah. Don't worry, Kirsten." She pats my arm. "I took care of it. It's over." She smiles like she knows what a cutie-pie she is.

"Balderis isn't going to say anything? Fishhouse isn't going to call me in?"

Brianna shakes her head. "Fishhouse isn't going to call you in. Balderis? He's a little turd—a turdette. Turdité." She looks at Rory.

Rory laughs.

"But he got his wallet back," Brianna says, "so what does he care?"

"So all I do now is show off my footwear?" I point my toe.

"Exactly," Brianna says.

"I told you we had it worked out," Rory whispers to me.

I try not to smile at Rory. Try not to walk with her and Brianna. I'm not a part of their crowd. But my new boots trot to catch up.

On Monday Walk gets his butt in his seat in plenty of time. He won't be late again, that's for sure.

Brianna is out in the hall. She comes in with Madison, Lauren, Rory, and Kirsten. Kirsten? She's one of
them
now? Must have been some catfight got that straightened all out. Walk looks for bite marks, scratches, places been chewed up. But no, they're smiling like they're best girlfriends.

Balderis is looking at Kirsten, too. His eyebrows jump off his face and his mouth hangs open. He doesn't get it, either. What's with these girls, anyway? They all nuts?

My mom picks me up from school.

"Where's Kippy?" I ask.

"After-school care," my mom answers.

"Why?"

"You're going to the doctor."

"I am? What doctor?"

"A psychiatrist. She specializes in eating disorders."

"Oh great, now you think I'm a psycho?"

"No, I don't think you're a psycho."

"Other people's moms don't haul them off to headshrinkers. Other people's moms take them shopping. That is probably what Rory and her mom are doing right now."