My Forever Friends (6 page)

Stacey is lying on her sleeping bag reading a girls' magazine. She gets a copy in the mail every couple of months, just like Brooke.

I dump the snacks on the floor and sit next to her. “Choco Chunks . . . cherry whips . . . dill pickle potato chips . . . root beer . . .” I say, looking over the pile of snacks. “Popcorn is on the way.”

“Cherry whips, please,” Stacey says, nibbling her fingernails and flipping magazine pages. “They're fan
tab
ulous.”

I rip open the cherry whips bag. We tie knots in the long red strings and study the magazine.

“Ooo . . . look,” Stacey says, tapping a picture of a very pretty girl wearing a sparkly brown dress. The shiny material ripples like a little stream running from her skinny shoulders to her knobby knees. “Brown is totally in.”

“Is it?” I say.

Stacey nods and nibbles. “I've
got
to show this to Brooke. She'll think it's com
plete
ly smooth.”

“Really?” I say, studying the dress. “It looks bumpy to me.”

“Not
smooth
smooth,” Stacey says, chewing. “Smooth as in really cute, you know?”

She blinks at me.

“Oh,” I say, blinking back. I do a laugh. “I was just joking.”

Stacey giggles. “You are hi
lar
ious, Ida.”

I shrug and tie another knot in my whip.

Lately, Brooke and Stacey have been saying words that don't always make sense. Like they're learning a new language, only they keep forgetting to teach it to me.

Stacey flips to the end of the magazine and then tosses it aside. “Now what?” she asks, rolling over on her back. She pulls on her cherry whip until it snaps in two.

“A movie maybe?” I say. “How about that one about the girl who runs away from the evil orphanage and finds out she's really a princess. It's your favorite.”

“
Was
my favorite,” Stacey says back. She sits up, her eyes sparkling with another idea. “We could call someone. Only we'll disguise our voices, like Brooke and me did when we called Jolene that one time!”

“What did you say?” I ask, scooting in.

“We pretended to be Joey and Rusty. We go, ‘Hey, Jolene, is your refrigerator running?'” She says it in a boy voice.

“Did Jolene fall for it?”

Stacey laughs. “Like an avalanche! She goes, ‘Yes' and we go, ‘Then you better hurry and catch it!' and hung up fast. Ohmygosh! We were in a complete state of hilarity!”

“Funny,” I reply.

Stacey nods. “Who should we do it to this time? Meeka maybe? Or Randi?”

“How about Jenna?” I ask. “She could probably use a laugh.”

“Jenna?” Stacey's eyes dim. “She'd call the prank police.”

“No she wouldn't,” I say. “She can be fun. Sometimes.”

Stacey studies me for a moment. “What? Are you two best buds now?”

“Not
best
best.” I fidget a little, remembering yesterday. When Jenna said I was her best friend. “But she's been coming over after school and it's not so bad. Not once you get used to her activity schedule. Besides, I think it's really boring at her house lately. Everyone is mostly just waiting for the baby to be born.”

Stacey does a big sigh. “Fine,” she says. “We can call Jenna. But later, okay? I can't take her this early in the morning.”

“You mean this
late at night,
” I say. “Remember? It's backwards day.”

“Late, early, whatever,” Stacey mumbles, and fishes another whip out of the bag. “I just can't take Jenna Drews.”

We grab the snacks and head downstairs.

After the movie I call Jenna.

But no one answers.

Her family must have decided to do something fun today after all.

 

 

By noon we make it normal day again. Mostly because it's hard to remember to keep saying things like, “Aren't the stars lovely tonight?” and “What a day! I'm dying for a bubble bath” when the sun is shining and the birds are singing like crazy in the trees.

We get dressed and I try calling Jenna again, but there's still no answer, so I give up and let Stacey call Brooke.

They talk for a long time.

When Stacey finally clicks off the phone she says, “Brooke's going to meet us at the park!”

“Brooke?” I say. “At the park? But she hates it there.”

“She likes it when I'm there,” Stacey replies. “I mean, when
we're
there.”

Stacey jumps up and starts shoveling markers back into a bucket that's sitting on my kitchen table. We've been designing clothes for the stars. It's one of Stacey's favorite things to do now. Sparkly dresses. Feathery scarves. High heels. She's good at drawing all their accessories. I'm better at doing their faces and pet Chihuahuas.

 

 

“We could take the shortcut through the woods,” I say when we come to the corner that turns toward Jenna's house. “Jenna won't care and, besides, nobody's home.”

“Sounds good to me,” Stacey replies.

Jenna's garage door is open when we get there, but only one car is inside. We walk up the steps to the front door and ring the bell.

No one answers. Except Biscuit.

I can see his jumpy little shadow through the foggy door window.

Then something else catches my eye.

A doll wearing a paper towel diaper is leaning against the porch railing.

“This must be Rachel's,” I say, stooping down and picking up the doll. “Why would she go away and leave it outside?”

“Because she's a kid?” Stacey replies.

I try peeking through the door's window again, but I can't see anything clearly. Then I put my ear against it. “Listen . . .”

Stacey leans in.

Biscuit is still yipping, but I can hear another sound too. A TV commercial.

“Weird,” I say. “They would never leave without turning off the TV.”

“We forget to turn stuff off all the time,” Stacey says. “Radio. Lights. TV.”

“The Drewses don't,” I say, stepping back. “They keep a checklist by the door.”

Stacey shrugs. “Maybe they were in a hurry. C'mon, let's go before Brooke gives up on us.”

Stacey takes off around the house. I set the doll on the doorstep and follow along.

Stacey hurries down the path through Jenna's woods. She doesn't stop when we cross the spot where the crooked path starts.

But I do.

I'd really like to know what's down that path besides wind chimes. But I know Stacey is in a hurry to see Brooke. And besides, it doesn't feel right to go down that path without Jenna.

I run toward the park.

“I called the others,” Brooke says when we get there. “Randi, Meeka, Jolene—”

“Jenna?” I ask.

“Not her,” Brooke says. “She's not in my circle.”

“Neither are the others,” I say. “Just Rusty and Joey.”

As soon as I say it I realize my mistake. But it's too late.

Brooke gives me a blank look. “My
calling
circle. Not my
friendless
circle.” She turns to Stacey. “What did she think?”

Stacey laughs. “Ida was just joking.” She looks at me. “Right?”

I nod. “Ha-ha.”

Brooke studies me like I just stepped off a flight from another planet. Then she zeroes in on Stacey. “Everyone was busy or gone or whatever, so you know what that means . . .” She gives Stacey's arm a squeeze. “More swings for us!”

Brooke grabs Stacey's hand. Stacey grabs mine.

We crack the whip all the way to the swings, laughing and screaming like we are the best friends in the world.

Well, Stacey and Brooke do.

I mostly just hang on and try not to get whipped into a tree.

I wonder if they'd notice if I did.

“Where were you on Saturday?” I ask Jenna when I get to the bus stop on Monday morning. “I tried calling, but no one answered.”

“Let's see . . .” Jenna says, tapping her chin and pretending to think hard. “Where was I? Oh, yes. I remember. I was at the hospital.”

“The hospital?” I glance around for Rachel, but she's not there. “Did something happen to your sister?”

Jenna gives me a squint. “No, nothing happened to
her
. Something happened to
me
. I practically
died
of boredom. My mom started having contractions, so we had to take her to the ER. That stands for
emergency room
.”

“I know that,” I say. “I watch TV. But . . . contractions?”

Jenna nods. “You know, cramps? Because of the baby. They hooked her up to machines and gave her medicine until the contractions stopped. Which. Took.
All
.
Day
. Practically. My dad wouldn't leave her, so me and Rachel had to sit and watch cartoons on a barely hearable TV and do coloring books that some other kid had already scribbled to death.”

“Oh.”

Jenna pauses. “So that's what I was doing while you and Stacey were having fun, fun, fun.”

“It wasn't all fun,” I say.

Jenna's jaw twitches. “It wasn't?”

I shake my head. “It was partly fun and partly Brooke.”

“Brooke?”

I nod. “We met up at the park. At first it was okay, but then Brooke got the ginormous idea—that's her new favorite word, by the way, g
inormous
—that we should camp out at her house.”

Jenna's chin drops. “
Brooke
wanted to
camp out
?”

“Uh-huh,” I say. “Saturday night. Only she didn't have any actual camping gear, except for a flashlight with no batteries. So we roasted cocktail wieners over candles. And made s'mores in the microwave. Which was actually fun, but then we had to sleep on the patio in her old portable playhouse. Only I didn't sleep much because the playhouse was built for two, so I had about one inch of room. Plus, Brooke and Stacey talked all night. I talked a little too, but mostly I just stayed still and tried not to use up all the oxygen.”

Jenna snorts a laugh.

“Ha-ha, thanks,” I say, frowning. “So see? You're not the only one who had a not-so-fun weekend.”

“Okay, okay,” Jenna says. “I get it.”

I swallow to soften my voice. “Is your mom okay? And the baby? And where's Rachel?”

Jenna brushes back her braids. “My mother is fine, Little Precious is fine, and Rachel is fine. She gets to sleep in this morning because of our
ginormous
weekend. My dad's driving her to school on his lunch break.”

“Not you?”

Jenna shakes her head. “No, my parents think I'm old enough to handle a family crisis and still go to school on time.”

Quinn and his sister, Tess, arrive just as the bus comes around the corner.

We all pile on.

I sit next to Jenna. We work the word
ginormous
into our conversation as much as possible.

By the time our bus pulls up to the school, we both have ginormous laugh-aches.

“What's so ha-ha?” Brooke asks when me and Jenna get to the coatroom. All the other girls are there too—Stacey, Randi, Meeka, and Jolene.

“Oh, nothing,” Jenna says, hanging her backpack on a coat hook and wiping laugh tears from her eyes. Her face is so red it makes her blond hair look spaghetti white. “Ida just told a . . .
ginormous
joke.”

She says it just like Brooke would. I hug my stomach and laugh, only no sound comes out.

Brooke crinkles her eyebrows and chews her gum. “Let's hear it,” she says to me.

“Wha . . . wha . . . what?” I reply.

“Duh,” Brooke says. “The ginormous joke.”

Jenna hugs her stomach too. She grabs a coat hook to steady herself.

“Um . . .” I say, glancing at Jenna. “Um . . .”

Jenna flutters a hand at me. “Go on, Ida,” she says, sniffling back snot. “Tell Brooke what we're laughing about.”

Jenna does a sly smile. She's probably getting back at me for putting her on the spot with Tom the other day. Jenna always likes to even the score.

“Joke . . . joke . . . joke . . .” Randi chants.

Everyone nudges in.

I shoot another look at Jenna and try to think fast. “Um . . . Knock, knock?”

Brooke rolls her eyes and snaps her gum.

“Who's there?” Stacey asks.

I glance around, trying to think of who could be at the door. A coat hook? Cargo pants? Raspberry mint bubble gum? Sparkly sneakers?

“We haven't got all day,” Brooke says. “Do you have a joke or don't you?”

I watch Brooke chew and chomp like the cows that live on Dylan Anderson's farm.

A joke pops into my brain.

“Knock, knock,” I say again.

“Who's there?” Brooke replies.

“Cows go,” I say.

“Cows go who?” everyone chimes in.

I shake my head. “No, they don't. Cows go
moo
. Owls go
who
.”