My Worst Best Friend (12 page)

God forbid.

“So what do your magazines say you should do if he doesn’t call?”

“You’re not funny, Gracie.” She stuck her tongue out at me. “And anyway, he will call. I know he will. I mean, he said he would. That was the last thing he said on
Sunday.
I’ll call you…
I can still hear him saying it.”

“Well, then, he will call.”

“You don’t think something’s happened to him, do you?” asked Savanna.

I decided against mentioning broken arms and digits and comas. She was upset enough.

“Of course not.”

“But you can’t be sure about that, Gracie.” She was looking at me, but she was pretty much talking to herself. “I mean, this is a really dangerous world. There are mass murderers all over the place. And terrorists. And kidnappers. And
birds
…”

Birds?

“You know, that flu thing they were warning us about. He could’ve eaten, like, contaminated chicken.”

Or spinach. A lot of people had got E. coli poisoning from spinach. It was pretty hazardous, too.

Savanna scowled. “This isn’t exactly a laughing matter, Gracie. I’m serious. He could’ve had an accident. You know how many accidents happen every day? Like millions. And I don’t mean just cars. People slip in the shower and get hit by things falling out of windows.”

“I’m sure nothing’s happened to him.” My dad taught at the State college. If one of the pre-law students had been poisoned by poultry or knocked out by a suicidal TV he would have heard about it. “He probably just, you know … forgot.”

“Forgot?” She let go of me as if I was hot. “You mean, like, I’m so boring he forgot about me? Is that what you think? What am I, Marilouise Lapinskye?”

“Oh, Savanna, please… Of course you’re not boring. You’re the least boring person I know.” Leaves scudded past us and Savanna’s hair blew around us. “All I meant was that he doesn’t seem able to plan ahead, does he?” Or even get to a phone.

But that wasn’t the right thing to say, either. She was standing with her arms folded in front of her, staring at me. It was the Zindle scrutinous mode. She really reminded me of her mother.

“Now what are you saying?”

What was I saying?

“I’m not saying anything. It’s just that… Well, it’s not like he’s in the Sahara without a cell phone, is it? You know, unless he has been abducted, it does seem a little weird that the one time he did make a date with you was at the last minute.” To be honest, it hadn’t seemed weird to me before, but now that I was actually thinking about it, it did. I know I’d never had a date myself, but I did have the impression that you usually got more than an hour’s notice. “So, you know, maybe he intends to call you, but then … I don’t know…” I couldn’t stand her looking at me like that. I started walking again. “Something else comes up.”

“You think he’s seeing another girl?”

Did I say that?

“He’s not seeing someone else, Gracie. Morgan would never do a thing like that.”

Why not? She was doing it.

“Savanna, please. I’ve never even met this guy. Why would I think he has another girlfriend? All I’m saying is that you’re obviously right – he’s really busy. He probably just loses track of time. He’ll call you. You should try and chill out until he does.”

“But I can’t chill out!” cried Savanna. “That’s why I had to come and get you. I mean, I just couldn’t sit in my room all afternoon waiting for my phone to ring. I’d have gone totally nuts.” She threw back her head. “Oh, why doesn’t he call?”

Good God. We were starting all over again. It was the conversational equivalent of the wheel in a hamster’s cage. You know, going in circles. Around and around. I was the one who was going to go nuts. I had to change the subject.

We’d come to the bridge over the river that borders Crow’s Point at one end. It’s a narrow bridge, so we were walking single file. “Speaking of calling,” I said to her back, “why didn’t you call
me
?”

She stopped and turned around. “What?”

“Why didn’t you call me while I was in the library to tell me you wanted to meet me?”

“Because you were in the library, Gray.” Savanna was speaking very slowly. And distinctly. “Your phone was turned off.”

“You could’ve left a message.”

“Which you would’ve got when? After you got home?”

“Not necessarily.”

Savanna tilted her head to one side, studying me like I was a dress in a store window. “Am I missing something here?”

“I just wondered why you didn’t tell me you wanted to meet me. You know, since you knew I was busy.” I nudged her with my front wheel. “Go on, Savanna, we’re blocking the sidewalk.”

She didn’t go on.

“Are you mad that I turned up, Gracie? Is that why you’re being so unsympathetic to my emotional needs?”

“Of course not.” I gave her another nudge. “And I’m not being unsympathe—”

“Ohmigod!” shrieked Savanna. “Ohmigod! That’s it, isn’t it? You wanted to be alone with Mr Misfit!” She steadied herself against the bridge. So she didn’t fall over laughing. “Oh, I don’t believe this. It can’t be true. That’s why you told me you weren’t going to join that dumb do-gooders club and then you did. You like the King of the Cretins!”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” If she didn’t get moving, I was going to run her over.

Savanna wasn’t listening. “Oh, Gracie… I mean, I don’t want to, like, sound mean or anything – and I am totally not saying that you’re not attractive or anything like that because you know that isn’t true – but you can’t possibly think Cooper’s interested in
you
, can you?”

I hadn’t actually given it any thought. Could I think he was interested in me? How would I know? I didn’t think he was uninterested. Or disinterested. Or physically repulsed. I was pretty sure he liked me as a friend. He laughed at my jokes. He let me drone on about stuff that I cared about. You know, a person doesn’t offer to share peanut-butter cookies with someone who isn’t a pal.

“Of course I don’t.”

“I mean, just because he’s started coming to school before the second bell doesn’t, like, signify anything. You know that, don’t you?”

“Of course I do.”

Savanna’s mouth puckered as if worry was making it shrink. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt, Gracie. I mean, you haven’t had much experience with guys…”

That was like telling a fish that it didn’t do much flying.

“I’m not going to get hurt. Cooper and I are just friends, Savanna. You know, like we were last week and the week before that?”

“I hope so. I mean, you do realize that he’s
never
had a girlfriend.”

“But neither has Pete or Leroy.”

“That’s different. I mean, they, like, talk about girls all the time, don’t they? But Cooper never does. Not even to Archie.”

“And?”

“And you do understand that Cooper’s not really interested in girls, right?” Her voice sounded like it was wringing its hands. “Like not at all.”

I thought she was talking about the time in the summer that she and Archie dropped by Cooper’s place and found him in the backyard wearing a “skirt”. She’d thought he must be gay.

“It wasn’t a skirt, Savanna. It was a sarong. Lots of men wear sarongs when it’s hot.”

“Not in Crow’s Point,” said Savanna. “And anyway, that wasn’t what I meant. I meant that he’s not like the other boys. They’re always staring at breasts and stuff like that. They’re
into
girls. The only things Cooper’s into are causes.” She looked like she wanted to pat my shoulder. “And I’m worried that you’re just another one of his causes. He thinks he can convert you to his whacky ideas because you cry when sea turtles die in fishing nets and want to save everything.”

Boycott Coca-Cola. Don’t buy stuff made in China. Save Gracie Mooney.

I saw you as I was walking past… In a trance of terminal boredom…
Was that really why Cooper came into Java? Because he thought I looked like I needed his help?

“I know what he’s like, Savanna. And I’m not into him.” I wasn’t.

“Are you sure, Gracie?”

“Of course I’m sure.” But maybe I was a little, you know, flattered by the attention.

Savanna laughed. “Well, that’s a relief. I mean, Mr Holier than Thou, he’s like such a major pain in the butt – always moaning about starving children and telling you not to wear labels and stuff.”

You’d think he could worry about drunken movie stars and TV shows like everyone else.

She started walking again. “Come on, let’s find something for Marilouise and go to Java. I could really use a coffee.”

Make mine a double espresso.

It
may sound weird, since I wasn’t one for social gatherings, but I was really looking forward to Marilouise’s birthday outing. It was going to be fun. Savanna said the only way it would be fun was if Marilouise stayed home. “Marilouise could make a Hollywood party seem like waiting in line at the airport,” said Savanna. I laughed. But I wasn’t going to let her bring down my enthusiasm. It was the girls-going-out-together part that really appealed to me – away from school and any mention of Morgan Scheck and stuff like that. It seemed pretty grown-up, almost like the girls’ nights out Savanna and I were going to have when we had our own apartment.

The birthday dinner was on Saturday night. Which meant I had to leave Neighbours right after the class ended so I’d have enough time to get home, shower, get dressed and then walk over to Savanna’s. It would have made more sense for her to come to my house, but I was worried that if I wasn’t there to hurry her up she’d never be ready in time.

Cooper walked me home anyway. “I still remember Marilouise’s sixth birthday party when her dog ate the cake,” said Cooper. “It was a truly memorable event.”

Savanna was still in the bath when I got to the Zindles’ house. “For God’s sake, Savanna, you’ve been in there for hours.” Zelda screamed from downstairs. “Anyone would think you must’ve drowned by now.” She smiled sourly. Smiling sourly was Zelda’s speciality. “Go on up, Gracie. Maybe you can get her to move her butt. She never listens to me.”

Half an hour later, I was sitting in Savanna’s armchair, wearing my special-occasions black skirt and my
favourite top (gauzy and stretchy and patterned to look like lizard skin) and with my hair spiked up, idly flicking through one of her magazines (the educational kind that tell you how to figure out what your most flattering colour is and how you know if a boy really likes you), still waiting for Savanna.

At least she was out of the bathroom. She was in the doorway, bellowing to her mother downstairs. “No, it’s a
dress
– it’s grey and red and blue and white… Yeah, it’s short, Mom, but it’s a
dress
– not a top, not a skirt, not a kilt, a dress! You, like, wear it with leggings or tight jeans or whatever…” She leaned back into the room, sighing and rolling her eyes. “God help me…” she muttered. “How can I be related to a woman who flunked Fashion 101?” Her head went back out of the door. “But I, like, put it in the hamper
weeks
ago. How is it possible that you haven’t even washed it yet?”

I stared down at a picture of a girl who didn’t look like she ever had bed-head or got zits. She was wearing this flowery, flowy kind of dress. Really feminine in a romantic, meet-me-on-the-cliff-top-in-a-thunderstorm kind of way. I was trying to picture the dress on me. It didn’t look feminine or romantic. It looked like a little kid dressing up in her mother’s clothes. Ready to trip over the hem and fall right over the cliff if she so much as took one step.

“But I wanted to wear it tonight…” wailed Savanna. “Well, excuse me for breathing, but I don’t want to wear something else. I had it all planned. I was going to wear it with my grey silk pants. Nothing else really goes with them.” Savanna slammed the door shut. “I swear, sometimes I think she does it on purpose!”

I looked up.

“What about all the stuff you’ve got on the bed?” Which would be the dozens of things she’d pulled out of her closet and drawers when she was looking for the short, grey, red, blue and white dress. Which explains why I was sitting in the chair.

Savanna sighed. “But it’s all so dull and
regular
… I wanted something, like, really kapowy.”

“I thought you didn’t care about tonight. I thought you said it was like going out with your parents.” Only without any major fights.

“Ohmigod!” Savanna put her hand to her mouth, her eyes peering over her fingers like two full moons. “I was sure I told you. Oh, I am such a flake. Didn’t I tell you? How could I forget to tell you?”

I believe in being positive, but sometimes it takes a really gigantic effort. I dropped the magazine back on top of the pile on the floor. I had the same sort of bad feeling I got when I heard about another melting glacier. “Tell me what?”

She started rummaging through the clothes on her bed. “I can’t go to Anzalone’s with you guys after all. Something came up at the last minute.”

“What do you mean,
something came up?
” I unlooped my legs from the arm of the chair and sat straighter. This
was
the last minute. “We’re meeting Marilouise in less than an hour.”

“I’m not.” Savanna was shaking her head. Disappointedly. I couldn’t tell if the disappointment was because of Marilouise or because her mother was a better realtor than she was a laundry lady. “I mean, I’m really sorry, Gracie, you know I am. I mean, I’m, like, really devastated, but I just can’t go to Marilouise’s dinner thing tonight after all. I was sure I told you.”

And when would that have been? I’d been at Neighbours all afternoon.

“I don’t know… I thought I told you when you got here.”

“You were in the bath when I got here.”

Savanna sighed. “I’m reallyreally sorry, Gracie.” She gave me an apologetic smile. “I guess it just slipped my mind.”

“It
slipped
your mind?” What had she been doing all day, patching up the hole in the ozone layer?

Savanna twisted a stray strand of hair. “Well, if you’d hung out with me instead of doing good deeds, Gracie, you would’ve been with me when all this came up, wouldn’t you, and then I wouldn’t’ve forgotten to mention it?”