My Forever Friends (7 page)

I do a clever smile.

Brooke frowns. “
That's
what you two were spazzing over?”

I shrug. “Mostly.”

Brooke swallows her gum and grabs Stacey's arm. She pulls her into our classroom.

Meeka, Jolene, and Randi follow along.

Jenna gives me a smile.

 

 

“Thank goodness
I
don't have to wear a crepe-paper mouse nest,” Brooke says as we gather in the pigpen for Jenna's last playground ceremony. Today we say good-bye to the bouncy horse and seal.

Brooke adjusts the sparkly tiara on her head. She brought it from home. She has a whole collection from all the pageants she's been in.

“Good,” Jenna snips back. “I didn't have time to make Randi a new crown, so now she can wear yours.”

Jenna steps past Brooke and holds a crepe-paper crown out to Randi.

“Gee,” Randi says. “Thanks.” She plops the crown on her head.

Jenna hands crowns to Meeka and Jolene.

“And you can't force me to do that goofy step-step-turn thing,” Brooke continues. “Honestly, Jenna, it looks like something a kindergartener would do.”

“No one is forcing you to do anything,” Jenna says back to Brooke. She hands a crown to Stacey and one to me. “No one is even forcing you to
stay
. If you want to leave the group, then leave the group.”

Brooke huffs. Her tiara tilts. “
Leave
the group? I
am
the group, Jenna. If I go, I'm taking the others with me.”

Meeka and Jolene trade glances.

Stacey stiffens.

“Lighten up, Brooke,” Randi says, brushing back a crepe-paper streamer. “Let's get this done. I've got a basketball game to win.”

Jenna puts the last crown on her head. “Line up behind me,” she tells us. “Remember, step-step-
twirl
. Step-step-
twirl
. All the way across the playground. Then ten bounces each. Five on the horse. Five on the seal. I'll bounce first.”

Randi gets in line behind Jenna.

I step behind Randi and look back at the others.

Brooke crosses her arms. “No,” she says. “I won't.” She looks at Stacey, Meeka, and Jolene. “Stick with me and you'll never have to wear crepe paper again.”

Meeka studies the streamers dangling in front of her eyes.

Then she steps closer to Brooke.

So does Jolene.

They take off their crowns and let them fall to the ground.

I look at Stacey.

She bites her lip.

And lets her crown fall too.

Brooke smiles.

Jenna squints. “You've made your choice,” she says to them. “You're on your own now.”

“No,
you
are,” Brooke says back. She links arms with Stacey. Stacey links up with Meeka. Meeka links up with Jolene.

I look at them and shake my head.
“Dumb.”

Stacey narrows her eyes at me. “Who are you calling
dumb,
Ida?” Her voice sounds like she's sucking on ice.

“I'm not calling anyone dumb,” I reply. “I'm saying
this
is dumb.” I glance around at everyone. “Splitting up the group. Over what? Crepe-paper crowns?”

“It's over a lot more than that,” Brooke snaps. She shoots a look at Jenna. Then she shoots another look at me and Randi. “I hope you two don't mind getting
pushed
around. Because that's what you're in for. If you stick with
her
.” She zaps Jenna again.

“I'm not the only
pushy
one around here,” Jenna tells her. She turns to me and Randi. “C'mon,” she says. “We don't need them.”

Jenna step-step-twirls out of the pigpen.

Randi follows along.

“Last chance, Ida,” Brooke says, tapping her toe on the green grass. “Stay with us
winners
or go with those
losers.
”

I study Brooke for a moment.

And Meeka.

And Jolene.

And Stacey.

“Everyone's losing, if you ask me,” I say.

Then I step-step-twirl away.

 

 

When we get back to our classroom after recess it's covered with stuff. A white sheet of paper is on each of our desks and a mound of colored fabric is piled on the reading table.

“First, trace around each other's hands on practice paper,” Mrs. Eddy tells us. “Carefully and neatly. Then cut out your handprints with equal care and neatness. When I'm satisfied you've done a good job with paper, you'll move on to cloth.”

Jenna's hand shoots up. “But you said we're making a
tree
quilt, not a handprint quilt.”

“We are,” Mrs. Eddy says. “Didn't I tell you? Your handprints will be the leaves on the tree.”

Mrs. Eddy unfolds a piece of fabric. It's almost as big as she is. A tree trunk is sewn to the front of it. Not a real one. A cloth one. Bare branches spread out from it like spider legs.

“No offense,” Brooke says, waving her hand to get Mrs. Eddy's attention. “But your tree looks dead.”

“
Your
tree,” Mrs. Eddy corrects her. “It belongs to all of you now. And it won't look dead after you fill its branches with your colorful handprints.”

“The leaves,” Meeka says.

“That's right,” Mrs. Eddy replies. “You'll stitch around them and use fabric markers and paint pens to write friendship words on them before I sew everything to the tree. Now, let's get started. Choose a partner to trace your handprint.”

Stacey glances at me. Then she scoots her chair closer to Dominic and starts helping him.

I can't believe she picked a boy over me. But I guess anything can happen when you're fighting with your best friend.

I trace Jenna's hand.

She traces mine.

A few careful cuts later and we're showing them to Mrs. Eddy.

“Good work,” she says to me and Jenna. “You're ready to choose your cloth. Look for colors and patterns that express who you are.”

“Pass the purple please,” I hear Brooke say as we sit down at the reading table. Other kids are already there too, digging through the pile of fabric. “All of it. I'm a purple
holic
!”

Joey snatches up a square of bright purple cloth and hands it to Brooke. “Here you go, Brookey!”

Brooke gives Joey a squint. But she takes the cloth.

“Joey, tell Ida to pass you that square so you can pass it to me,” Stacey says. “The one with the purple polka dots. I'm a purpleholic too!” She points to a piece of fabric that's lying right in front of me.

Joey glances away from Brooke. “Tell her yourself,” he says to Stacey.

Stacey huffs and turns to Tom. He's sitting across the table from me. “Tom, will you please pass me that purple polka-dot square?”

Tom glances from the square to me to Stacey. “I could,” he says. “But Ida's closer. It makes more sense to ask her.”

Stacey does a bigger huff.
“Boys,”
she says. Then she leans across the table, reaching for the polka dots.

Jenna flicks them away.

Stacey scowls.

Jenna smiles.

I sigh.

And grab the cloth.

I hold it out to Stacey. “Here,” I say to her.

Brooke looks up.

Stacey reaches for the cloth.

But then she catches Brooke's eye and stops.

She snatches a different square instead.

Blue with orange stripes.

Not her favorite colors. Or pattern.

Stacey sits down.

I jerk my hand back like I touched something hot. And stare at the polka dots I'm still holding.
Just like Jenna said in the pigpen,
I think to myself.
Stacey's made her choice. And it's not me. It's Brooke.

The polka dots run together like they're growing purple fur. I blink away my tears before looking at Stacey again.

But she's gone.

Marching with Brooke to their desks. Waving their fabric like they're leading a parade.

Other kids fill in. Reaching. Looking. Tossing.

“Dibs on skeletons,” Zane says, pushing butterflies and kittens aside.

“Dibs on race cars,” Quinn says, reaching past Zane.

“Dibs on skeletons
driving
race cars,” Randi says, reaching past both of them.

A piece of fabric falls in front of me. It's purple, but not polka-dot purple. Flowers are scattered across it. Pink with yellow centers.

I wipe my eyes and look at Jenna. She's sitting next to me. “Did you drop this?” I ask, setting down the polka dots and picking up the flowers.

“Yes,” Jenna replies. “On purpose.”

“No wonder,” Joey says, holding his nose. “Flowers.
Pee-u!
”

Zane nods. “Stinky pinky!”

Quinn laughs. “Make mine a Twinkie!”

The boys howl. It doesn't take much to get them going.

“You guys are nuts,” Randi says. “Flowers are quiet and cute. Just like Ida.” She looks at the cloth and gives me a thumbs-up. “It's you.”

I sniffle and give her a smile.

Quinn stops laughing and studies the square of race cars in his hand. “Quiet and cute,” he mumbles.

Then he glances at me. And takes off for his desk.

Jenna gives me a nudge.

“What?” I whisper.

“You know what,” she whispers back. “Quiet and
cute
? He wasn't talking about race cars.”

I fidget a little and glance toward Stacey, trying to catch her eye. Trying to see if there is any sadness in them.

But she's huddled up with Brooke, tracing her purple handprint.

I tuck my flowers on my lap.

“Score!” Zane shouts, pulling a piece of black cloth out of the pile. It's sprinkled with skulls. He flutters it like a dainty hankie. “Later, ladies!” he says to all of us, even the boys, and gallops back to his desk.

“I'll help you find one,” I tell Jenna.

“Not pink,” she replies. “Or blue. No teddy bears. No duckies. No pacifiers.”

“How about this one?” Tom holds up a green square with yellow bees buzzing across it. “Green, because you love nature.”

“And bees,” Randi says. “Because they sting.” She grins.

“They also make honey,” Tom continues. “And they work hard to keep the hive together.”

I think about our group and how it's falling apart. None of us, not even Jenna, have been very good bees lately.

Still, I take the cloth from Tom and pass it to her. “You?” I ask.

Jenna takes it. “Me.”

“I have an idea,” I say when me and Jenna get to my house after school on Thursday. Rachel already ran inside.

“What?” Jenna asks, sitting on my porch steps and digging two mini boxes of raisins out of her backpack. I sit next to her and she hands one to me.

“We could take a break from your schedule, just for today, and go to the Purdee Good,” I say. “Me and Stacey used to meet there every Thursday after she was done with dance class. We'd split a giant cookie and draw pictures on the paper placemats and talk about stuff. School. Homework. Which boys were annoying us the most. Plus, I heard Stacey tell Brooke they got new ice cream flavors this week. Double Trouble Fudge. Coconut Caramel. Blue Moon. We could eat our treats there and then run home quick with a cone for Rachel.”

Jenna opens her box and pinches up a raisin. “Why would we want to do all that?”

I shrug. “For fun.”

There hasn't been a lot of fun going on this week with everyone fighting. Meeka and Jolene won't talk to me. Stacey will barely even look at me. If I walk into the girls' bathroom while they're in there, Brooke shouts, “Red alert!” and then marches everyone out. Same goes for the playground. If I sit by them at lunch, they gather up their trays and Brooke leads them to a different table. If I pass them worksheets during class, they shake them off like they're crawling with germs.

Ida germs.

Jenna and Randi get the same treatment. But I don't think it bothers them as much as it bothers me.

And tomorrow will be even worse. Because of our class trip to the Laura Ingalls Wilder Museum and cabin. Everyone will be squished inside a school bus for the drive over. And then the chaperones will make us stay in a group while we're there. I wouldn't be surprised if Brooke brings along the jug of hand sanitizer Mr. Crow keeps in our classroom so she can rub some on every time she has to be by me.

I don't want to be treated like I'm contagious.

And I don't want to treat other people like they are too.

Fighting isn't one of my talents.

“I don't have any money for ice cream,” Jenna says. “And besides,
they
will probably be there.”

I know who Jenna means by
they
. Stacey, Brooke, Meeka, and Jolene.

“We could stop at your house and get some money from your mom. And if
they
are there, we'll just go in, buy our stuff, and run away again.”

Jenna frowns. “I don't
have
extra money for treats, okay? Not since my mom had to quit everything, including her job, because of the baby. And I
don't
run away from Brooke Morgan. Ever.”

I'm quiet for a moment. “I've got some allowance money left over. I'll buy. And besides, isn't
running
away from Brooke the same as
staying
away?”

Jenna shakes her head. “I don't want your allowance. And if you
run
away from the person you're fighting with, she wins. If you
stay
away, nobody wins. Get it?”