Read My Forever Friends Online
Authors: Julie Bowe
My Forever Friends (11 page)
“What is it?” I ask.
“You'll have to come to my house,” she replies. “Not
at
my house. But close by. In my woods.”
at
my house. But close by. In my woods.”
I think about the crooked path in Jenna's little woods. I bet that's where we'll end up.
“When?” I say. “This weekend?”
“No,” Jenna replies. “I have to babysit Rachel and I don't want her to come along.”
“Next week then,” I say. “When Rachel has piano lessons.”
“Good,” Jenna says. “I'll put it on Tuesday's schedule.”
I do a smile. I hear Jenna do one back.
Then I hear Mrs. Drews's voice in the background again.
“Have to go,” Jenna says. “Little Precious probably wants a banana. See you at school?”
“Yep,” I say. “See you then.”
I set down the phone.
And wonder what Jenna's big secret will be.
Chapter 11
The bell is ringing when I get to school on Monday morning. It's raining, so my mom drove me. I hurry to hang up my raincoat and backpack. Mrs. Eddy is setting a square of cloth with a threaded needle on my desk as I sit down. She sets one on Stacey's desk too. And Jenna's. And Dominic's.
“What's this?” Dominic asks, picking up his cloth.
“A buffalo burger,” Jenna says, pressing her lips into a sassy smile.
“Very funny,” Dominic replies. “I mean, what's it for?”
“Today you learn how to sew,” Mrs. Eddy says, moving on to the next friendship circle and handing around more cloth and needles and thread.
“Sewing,” Dominic says. “Yippee.”
“That must be why they're here,” Stacey says to Dominic, poking a thumb toward the doorway. Meeka's mom and Randi's dad are standing there, talking with Mr. Crow.
Dominic nods. “To teach us how to do it.”
“Without drawing blood.” Stacey giggles. So does Dominic.
I giggle too. But as soon as Stacey hears me, she turns off her giggle switch. Then she makes her face go smooth and blinks the sparkles out of her eyes.
I turn off my switch too.
“Now
that
would be fun!” Dominic fake pokes Jenna with his needle.
that
would be fun!” Dominic fake pokes Jenna with his needle.
Jenna stops watching me and Stacey. She gives Dominic a shove.
“Settle down, everyone,” Mr. Crow says, glancing at the clock above his desk. “Our helpers can't stay long, so we need to get started right away.”
Heels click quickly down the hallway.
Brooke's mom rushes in. “I'm late! I know!” she announces, all breathless. “Traffic was
crazy
!” She sets a briefcase on Mr. Crow's chair and starts unbuttoning her raincoat. “And the weather? Ugh!” She pulls off her coat and gives it a shake. Raindrops pitter-patter across the papers on Mr. Crow's desk.
crazy
!” She sets a briefcase on Mr. Crow's chair and starts unbuttoning her raincoat. “And the weather? Ugh!” She pulls off her coat and gives it a shake. Raindrops pitter-patter across the papers on Mr. Crow's desk.
“No problem, Mrs. Morgan,” Mr. Crow says. “We were just getting started.” He picks up the papers on his desk and fans them in the air.
“There's crazy traffic in Purdee?” I say to Jenna.
Jenna lifts a shoulder. “More like crazy
drivers
.” She pokes her chin toward Mrs. Morgan and twirls a finger by her ear.
drivers
.” She pokes her chin toward Mrs. Morgan and twirls a finger by her ear.
Brooke looks over from her friendless circle and squints at Jenna. “Is
your
mother helping today?” she asks.
your
mother helping today?” she asks.
Jenna squints back. “You know she isn't.”
“Oh, that's right,” Brooke says sweetly. “She can't do anything anymore, can she?”
Jenna's eyes go icy. Her cheeks burn. “You should know,” she says. “You can't do anything either. Except for say mean things about my family behind my back.”
Brooke rolls her eyes. “That again? For your information, Jenna, I didn't say mean things. I said true things. And I didn't say them behind your back. I said them to your face.”
“What did she say?” I ask Jenna when she turns away from Brooke.
“Yeah, tell us,” Dominic chimes in. “I could use a laugh.”
“Fighting with your friends isn't funny, Dominic,” Stacey puts in. She glances at me and away again. “Especially your best friends.”
“
Former
best friends,” Jenna grumbles, shooting a look at Brooke.
Former
best friends,” Jenna grumbles, shooting a look at Brooke.
“Fine,” Dominic says. “Tell us what Brooke said, Jenna. I promise not to laugh even if it's funny.”
“You're the last blabbermouth I would tell,
Dumb
inic,” Jenna replies. “The whole school would know by the end of recess.”
Dumb
inic,” Jenna replies. “The whole school would know by the end of recess.”
Dominic makes his face go all serious. He puts his hand on his chest like he's getting ready to say the Pledge of Allegiance. “What's said in the friendship circle,
stays
in the friendship circle.” Then he leans in and nudges his glasses up a notch. “Go on,” he says to Jenna. “Spill it.”
stays
in the friendship circle.” Then he leans in and nudges his glasses up a notch. “Go on,” he says to Jenna. “Spill it.”
Stacey leans in too.
So do I.
Jenna looks from Dominic to me to Stacey. Her eyes narrow. “I don't share classified information with the
enemy
.”
enemy
.”
“I'm not your enemy,” Stacey says. “Brooke is. I'm just one of her troops.”
“Yeah,” I add. “If you and Brooke stopped fighting, we all would.” I glance at Stacey. “At least,
I
would. Randi too, I bet.”
I
would. Randi too, I bet.”
Stacey fidgets and fiddles with her needle and thread. “Meeka and Jolene would too. They told me so this morning.”
Click-click-click.
Mrs. Morgan walks up to our friendship circle, smiling. She has the same smile as Brooke, only bigger.
Mrs. Morgan walks up to our friendship circle, smiling. She has the same smile as Brooke, only bigger.
She rests a hand on Jenna's shoulder, her fingers sparkling with rings. “Will you do me a favor, sweetie?” she says to Jenna. “Remind your mother that I'll be stopping by tonight to pick up the file for the school carnival. I want to get things
organized
for a change. Oh, and I'll need the paperwork for the auction too.”
organized
for a change. Oh, and I'll need the paperwork for the auction too.”
Mrs. Morgan squeezes Jenna's shoulder and smiles again. “Can you remember all that or should I write it down?”
Jenna squirms under Mrs. Morgan's hand. “I can remember,” she says.
Mrs. Morgan laughs lightly. “Of course you can, smart girl!” She clamps Jenna's shoulder tighter and looks at Mr. Crow. “Let's get this show on the road!” she sings. “Some of us have work to do.”
Mr. Crow nods, fanning the last of the papers on his desk. He motions to the other parents. “Feel free to pull up a chair next to your student while Mrs. Eddy explains how we'll proceed.”
Mrs. Morgan swaps smiles with Brooke.
Click-click
-
click
and she's at the reading corner.
Click-click-click
again and she's scooting a kidsized chair between Brooke's and Rusty's desks. She sits down and tugs her neon pink skirt toward her knees. Then she checks her watch, drums her fingers on the back of Rusty's chair, and smiles at Mrs. Eddy. “Ready when you are, Francine!”
Click-click
-
click
and she's at the reading corner.
Click-click-click
again and she's scooting a kidsized chair between Brooke's and Rusty's desks. She sits down and tugs her neon pink skirt toward her knees. Then she checks her watch, drums her fingers on the back of Rusty's chair, and smiles at Mrs. Eddy. “Ready when you are, Francine!”
Rusty inches closer to Joey.
Brooke smiles at her mother and folds her hands. She holds her head perfectly straight like she doesn't want her halo to slip off.
“You'll find everything you need for today's sewing lesson on your desk,” Mrs. Eddy tells us. “The needles are very sharp, so pleaseâ”
“Ouch!” Quinn sticks a finger in his mouth.
“âso please be careful not to poke yourself,” Mrs. Eddy continues.
“Good point,” Quinn replies.
“We'll begin with a basic running stitch.” Mrs. Eddy demonstrates, pushing a needle up and down through a piece of cloth, leaving a little path of thread behind. “After you catch on, I'll show you how to do a blanket stitch. It's trickier, but I'm sure you can handle it.”
We get busy sewing.
“Think of the stitches as little footprints,” Mrs. Eddy says while we work. “Try to make each stitch the same size and distance apart.”
I concentrate, making my needle walk up and down along a straight path without stepping off into the wilderness.
Mr. Crow and the parents wander around, offering suggestions and undoing knots. But so far, no one is having too much trouble.
Except for Jenna.
“Can I help you, sweetie?” Mrs. Morgan hovers over Jenna as she untangles her thread.
Jenna freezes. “I don't need your help,” she mumbles.
“Excuse me?” Mrs. Morgan leans in.
Brooke glances over.
Jenna looks up and glues on a smile. “No thank you, Mrs. Morgan. I can do it by myself.”
Mrs. Morgan's eyes sparkle, just like the diamonds on her rings. “So independent!” she says, tugging one of Jenna's braids. Her smile stiffens. “More like your mother all the time.”
She clicks away.
Brooke leans across the aisle. “Pass me a scissors, will you,
sweetie
?” She flutters her hand at Jenna.
sweetie
?” She flutters her hand at Jenna.
Jenna picks at her knot, ignoring Brooke.
“Maybe you should start over,” I say to Jenna as Stacey practically skips across the aisle with a pair of scissors for Brooke.
“No way,” Jenna grumbles, her face simmering. She glances over at Brooke. “Not unless
she
apologizes first.”
she
apologizes first.”
“Good plan,” Dominic says, looking up from his stitches. “Never be the first to back down from a fight.”
I do a frown at Jenna. “I was talking about starting over with your sewing, not Brooke.” Then I look at Dominic. “What if the other kid is bigger and stronger than you? If you don't back down, you might get creamed.”
Dominic shrugs. “If he's bigger and stronger, he's gonna cream you either way.” He licks his thread and pokes it through the eye of his needle. “No guts, no glory.
No
apologies.”
No
apologies.”
“But apologizing
takes
guts,” I say. “More guts than fighting sometimes.” I think about how skimpy
my
guts are. Do I have enough to apologize to Stacey for fighting, even though she chose Brooke over me?
takes
guts,” I say. “More guts than fighting sometimes.” I think about how skimpy
my
guts are. Do I have enough to apologize to Stacey for fighting, even though she chose Brooke over me?
Stacey leaves the scissors with Brooke and scoots back into her chair. “What did I miss?” she asks.
“Guts,” Dominic replies.
“Ew,” Stacey says.
“And how you need them,” I add, “to tell a friend you're sorry.”
“Oh,” Stacey says. She bites her lip and glances away.
I set down my sewing and take a big breath. Then I look at Stacey. “I'm sorry about the other day,” I say. “The pigpen incident. I didn't want to choose sides. I wish we were friends again. You and me. And everyone else.”
Stacey studies her sewing for a minute. Then she looks up and nods. “Ditto for me,” she says. “I'm sorry I've been so mean lately.”
I do a smile. “Double ditto.”
Stacey giggles. “Make mine a triple!”
I giggle back. “With marshmallows and chocolate sauce on top.”
Dominic rubs his stomach. “Easy on the sugar, you two. I'm getting a
gut-
ache.”
gut-
ache.”
I roll my eyes at Dominic. And glance at Jenna.
She looks away, pretending to be very busy untangling another knot.
After Mrs. Eddy teaches us how to do a blanket stitch, she hands out more practice cloth and thread. “I want you to do three rows of running stitches and one row of blanket stitches at home each day this week,” she announces. “Then you'll be ready to stitch around your handprints for the quilt and write a friendship word with fabric markers on each of them. After that, I'll attach your handprints to the tree.”
“Stitchwork,” Randi says, poking her needle up and down. “Better than homework.”
“Yeah,” Quinn says, looking up from his row of perfect blanket stitches. “I could get used to this.”
Â
Â
We take our stitchwork outside for recess. It's stopped raining, but the playground is still wet, so we have to stay on the blacktop. The boys call dibs on the basketball court. We girls have to huddle together in the only corner with no puddles.
Actually, there's one puddle. A small one. Brooke, Stacey, Meeka, and Jolene sit on one side of it. Jenna and Randi sit on the other side. They remind me of the rocks on my windowsill at home.
I know I should sit between them. The rock in the middle. But my butt would get wet. So I sit by Jenna and Randi instead.
“Please hurry and evaporate,”
I say secretly to the puddle.
“Then maybe everyone will scoot together.”
“Please hurry and evaporate,”
I say secretly to the puddle.
“Then maybe everyone will scoot together.”
The puddle doesn't shrink.
I need another plan.
“I'm going to do
ten
rows a day,” Stacey says, threading her needle.
ten
rows a day,” Stacey says, threading her needle.
“You don't get extra credit for doing extra rows,” Jenna tells her.
Stacey shrugs. “I don't care. I just like sewing. It makes me wish I was living in pioneer times so I could go to one of those quilting bees Mrs. Eddy told us about. Where everyone sews, and chats about their cows, and drinks tea. That would be so sweet.”
“Not unless you add a ton of sugar,” Randi says, glancing up from her stitches. “Tea tastes like wet leaves. Trust me. I've tried both.”
“We could do one at my house,” I suddenly say. “A quilting bee. Tomorrow, if you want. I'm sure my mom won't care. Jenna is coming over anyway.” I glance at Jenna. “Is it a plan?”
Jenna looks up from her tangled thread. “But we have other plans tomorrow, remember?”
I'm quiet for a moment, remembering that Jenna is going to show me the secret in her woods tomorrow. “I'll walk home with you
after
the quilting bee,” I say to her. “You can show me . . . the thing ... then.”
after
the quilting bee,” I say to her. “You can show me . . . the thing ... then.”
Jenna thinks this over. “If we can ditch Rachel first, then . . . okay.”
“Show Ida what?” Brooke asks, looking across the puddle at us.
“None of your
bees
wax,” Jenna tells her.
bees
wax,” Jenna tells her.
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