My Worst Best Friend (13 page)

“When what came up?” As if I couldn’t guess.

“Morgan finally called! Isn’t that great?” Savanna wasn’t looking disappointed now. “And guess what? He’s taking me out for dinner!” If she smiled any more, her teeth would fall out.

“But you’re already going out for dinner.”

“Yeah, I know, but—” Savanna sighed “—only now I’m not, am I? Now I’m going out with Morgan.”

You’d have thought that one of her magazines might have had something to say about dumping your friends because some boy asked you out at the last minute.

“Savanna, you can’t just change your plans because Morgan suddenly decided he can see you. That’s not right.”

“It’s not like that, Gracie.” She tossed a couple of tops aside. “It wasn’t sudden. He always wanted to see me tonight, he just didn’t know if he could.”

“Why, because the UN special meeting might go on longer than he’d thought?”

“You’re not funny. You know how busy he is.”

“Oh, Savanna… It’s Marilouise’s birthday, remember? She’s been planning it for weeks.”

Savanna groaned. “As if I didn’t know. It’s practically all she ever talks about.”

“I don’t know why you ever said you’d go. All you’ve done is complain about it right from the start.”

Savanna pouted. “You think I’m a lousy person.”

“No, I don’t. I just think—”

“You’re disappointed in me. You think I’m a crappy friend.”

“I didn’t say that, Sav. You’re a great friend.” She was always trying to boost my morale. Telling me I was cute and funny and not as short as I thought. Last year, when I’d been teased a lot for being small or a vegetarian or a brainbox, she’d always stood up for me. And I knew that if I were in trouble she would help me out. When I was home with the flu for two weeks in the spring, she’d come over every afternoon to bring me my homework. “I just think that if you tell someone you’re going to their birthday dinner, then you should go. You know, unless something really major happens.” Like your house is hit by an asteroid.

“But something major
has
happened.” She looked like a little kid who can’t understand why its pet gerbil is lying on the floor of its cage with its feet in the air. I was starting to feel as if I was the one who was being unreasonable. “Morgan can see me tonight. I mean, you know what his schedule’s like. Who knows how long it’ll be before I see him again if I don’t go tonight?”

“It’ll be a year before Marilouise has another birthday.”

“Gee, really?” Savanna widened her eyes. “I didn’t know that.”

“Oh, come on, Savanna. You know what I mean. You’ll have a date with Morgan a lot sooner than Marilouise gets to put another candle on her cake. This is an important night for her.”

Her whole body shrugged. “But it’s an important night for me, too. I’ve been waiting, like, days for this.” She stuck out her lower lip. “I don’t know why you’re being so hard on me, Gracie. I mean, what would you do if you had to choose between a date with this totally awesome guy at some sophisticated restaurant and a bowl of spaghetti with Marilouise Lapinskye at a place where they sell pizzas in the foyer?”

“You already bought her a present.”

Savannah smiled. “Well, you can give it to her, can’t you? That way, she’ll know I really was going to come, and she won’t feel so bad.”

Part of me felt like saying,
Give it to her yourself
, but it wasn’t the dominant part of me. The dominant part of me knew that arguing with Savanna when her mind was made up was like thinking you could stop climate change by only using your car six days a week instead of seven. Pretty pointless. So I said, “What excuse did you give Marilouise for not going?”

Savanna held up a long black skirt and a metallic-pink top. “What do you think?” She shook the top so it shimmered. “Or maybe
this
with the silk trousers and my red mini-skirt?”

Maybe I wasn’t the only one who knew how to avoid answering a question. I was sitting up so straight by now that I was practically rigid. “Savanna, what did you tell Marilouise?”

“I haven’t told her anything.” Savanna was still studying the top, her head on one side.

“What do you mean, you haven’t told her anything?”

Now she was looking at me, but not what you’d call right in the eyes. More like right near the side of my head. “I kind of thought that maybe you could tell her.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, Gracie… You’re, like, so much more diplomatic and kind than I am. You know you are.” She gave me one of her three-year-old smiles. “And she doesn’t know you as well as she knows me. She won’t get mad at
you
.”

“Oh, no you don’t…” I was shaking my head. Very firmly. “This isn’t my problem. There is no way I’m breaking this news to her. You’re the one who’s—” I hesitated, searching for the right words. Letting Marilouise down? Lying to her? Jacking her dinner for something better? “Not coming. You should be the one who tells her.” And the one who apologizes. Abjectly.

Savanna moaned. “But you know I hate to be criticized, Gray.”

“That’s ridiculous. The most judgemental thing I’ve ever heard Marilouise say was that she doesn’t like peanuts.”

“That’s exactly what I mean. Marilouise is the worst. I mean, she doesn’t shout and tell you what a jerk you are like a regular person. She just makes you feel like you stepped on the last butterfly or something.”

“Well, that’s too bad, isn’t it?” Maybe next time she’d look where she was going.

“But I can’t tell her, Gray.” Savanna dropped the skirt and the top back on the bed. “I mean, how can I tell her when I’m so sick I can’t even pick up the phone?”

“Oh, Savanna… That is really feeble.” You’d think that, with all the lying she did, she’d be better at it. “Marilouise isn’t stupid. She’ll see right through that.”

“Not if you’re convincing.”

“Savanna—”

She sighed. “Well, can you think of a better excuse? I mean, like, be reasonable, Gracie. There isn’t time for anything more complicated. Sudden, paralytic illness is
the only possible reason I could come up with at such short notice.” She put her hands together. Pleading.
“Please, Gracie. Don’t let me down. I’m counting on you.”

“Savanna, you can’t count on me. I mean, you can count on me, obviously you can count on me – you’re
my best friend – but not for this. I really don’t like lying.”

She shrugged. Philosophically. “And who does?”

I could think of one person who didn’t seem to have a lot of trouble with it.

“I mean it, Savanna. I tried to tell you the other day. I was really uncomfortable with that whole thing about telling Archie we went to see my dad in a play.”

“You were? Why?”

Why did she think? Because my bra was too tight?

“Because I had to lie.”

“And I told you I was sorry about that, Gracie. I mean, Archie surprised me just as much as he surprised you. I don’t see how that gets to be
my
fault. I mean, I can’t control what comes out of his mouth, can I?”

“That’s not what I mean, Savanna. All I’m saying is that I didn’t like lying to him. But this is even worse.”

She looked at me. Curiously. Inquisitively. A naturalist discovering a new species of iguana. “How come?”

“Because it’s Marilouise’s birthday, that’s how come. And she’s been looking forward to it.” I did some more head-shaking. “I really don’t think I can lie to her like that. I’ll feel like a total creep.”

“But you’re not being a creep. You’re being a loyal friend. You’re the loyalest friend anyone could ever have. That’s why I love you.”

“Savanna—”

“I don’t mean a loyal friend just to me, Gracie. I mean to Marilouise, too.” Now she was looking me right in the eyes. “I mean, what are you planning to do? Tell her what’s really going on? Be honest with yourself here, Gracie. How do you think poor Marilouise’ll feel if she finds out I skipped her birthday because I’d rather go out with Morgan? You think that’s going to boost her self-esteem? You think that’s going to cheer her up a whole lot?”

Probably not. Probably it would make her feel like a small piece of dog poo on the bottom of someone’s shoe.

“See? That’s, like, exactly what I mean,” said Savanna. “So you wouldn’t be doing her any favours, would you? You’d be making things way worse.”

I wasn’t sure about way worse, but I could see that I wouldn’t be making things way better.

“Well…”

“I knew you’d help me!” She ran over and threw her arms around me. Thankyouthankyouthankyou, Gracie.” She squeezed me so hard I gasped. “I’ll call you the minute I get home.”

Oh, good. At least I still had something to look forward to.

Mrs
Zindle gave us a ride as far as the bridge. I’m sure Zelda and Savanna were bickering most of the way because bickering was pretty much their default mode, but I don’t really remember the drive. I was pretty preoccupied with swamping myself with guilt about Marilouise. Marilouise had never been anything but really nice to me. Even when Savanna started being best friends with me instead of her, Marilouise never got snappy or snarly the way a lot of people would have. I didn’t know how I was going to be able to explain to Marilouise how Savanna was practically on death’s front lawn. How could I possibly face her? The way I felt, if I looked her in those clear blue eyes, I was liable to blurt out the truth and beg for mercy.

Savanna was almost out of the car before it stopped, but I climbed out slowly. I felt like I was about to shoot the last silverback gorilla.

“Wish Marilouise a happy birthday for me!” ordered Mrs Zindle.

Savanna said we would. Mrs Zindle waved as she drove off. Savanna waved back. The Zindles’ gas guzzler passed the lawn decorated with dozens of smiling
garden gnomes and disappeared around a bend. Oh,
how I wished I was in it.

“Right, I have to go.” Savanna turned and gave me a hug. “Kisskiss, byebye. Don’t forget to tell Marilouise how really sorry I am.” She thrust her present into my hands. “Tell her I’ll call her as soon as I’m feeling better.”

Horns honked as Savanna dashed across the street.

My excitement about the evening was as gone as the Mohicans. I’d rather have been digging potatoes. I’d rather potatoes had been digging me. So instead of going right into the restaurant, I hung around in the parking lot for a while. Postponing the inevitable. Psyching myself up.
Marilouise, you’ll never guess what happened… Marilouise, it’s just totally awful… Marilouise, Savanna is sooo sorry… Well, what’s good here besides the eggplant parmigiana?
Eventually, some guy stuck his head out the kitchen door and asked me what I was doing. I went inside.

Anzalone’s was always busy on a Saturday night, but that night it was packed tighter than a battery barn. The first thing I saw after I pushed past the mob of people by the register waiting to pick up their pizzas was a cloud of silver star balloons, swaying over a table at the back. Everyone at the table was wearing a sparkly, paper hat.
Balloons … paper hats … Happy Birthday, Marilouise!
The icy hand that had been squeezing my stomach relaxed its grip a little. This wasn’t what I was expecting. This was a real party, after all. Which was good news. Marilouise wasn’t going to be all torn up by one less guest the way she would have been when there were only two altogether. Savanna wasn’t really going to be missed. Marilouise might not even notice that she wasn’t there. I hovered on the edge of the dining room for a couple of minutes. Maybe I could sneak back out, go home and leave Marilouise a message on her phone that Savanna and I were both sick. Victims of a small, localized epidemic. And then a couple of sub-zero fingers started squeezing me again. Who
were
all those people? Did any of them look even vaguely familiar? Why hadn’t Marilouise told me she’d invited them too?

Which would be when I finally spotted Marilouise. She wasn’t anywhere near the balloons and the sparkly hats. She was sitting by herself at a table set for three in the middle of the room. She was all dressed up as if she was going to a wedding – or, possibly, a party. She was wearing a blue-green dress and a corsage of tiny white flowers pinned to one shoulder, and she’d done something to her hair. Or someone had done something to her hair. Usually it was straight and pulled back in a ponytail, but tonight it was piled on her head in a shiny, solid clutch of curls. For a minute, I was really glad that Savanna wasn’t with me.
Ohmigod
, she would have hissed in my ear.
Do you think they’re glued together?
And I would’ve laughed – because that’s exactly how they looked. That was the kind of diplomatic, kind person I was. Marilouise’s cell phone was in front of her on the table. She kept glancing down at it.

There was no escape. You could possibly disappoint someone celebrating her birthday with twenty other people, but there was no way you could disappoint someone whose only companion was her phone.

“I’m really sorry I’m late, Marilouise.” I sat down and gave her my biggest smile. “Wow,” I said, “you look really nice.”

“You think so?” Marilouise touched the curls. “My mom treated me for my birthday.” She looked behind me. “Where’s Savanna? I thought you guys were coming together.”

Despite my misgivings, I made myself look right into her eyes. If you’re going to lie to someone, you might as well try to make it look like that’s not what you’re doing.

I explained that Savanna was sick.

“She was fine until about half an hour before I got to her house, and then it all started. It was pretty gross.” Vomiting, fever, aches and pains. I made it sound like the return engagement of the Black Plague. “She wants you to know how gutted she is that she couldn’t make it, but Zelda wouldn’t let her out of the house. I mean, not that she could actually walk as far as the front door. But if she could’ve, Zelda would’ve been blocking her way.”

“Gee…” murmured Marilouise. “Poor Savanna. That sounds awful. I hope it’s nothing serious. Did she call the doctor? There’s always stuff going around at this time of year. What a drag being sick on a Saturday night.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “It’s a real bummer. Especially since she was really looking forward to tonight.” I crossed my fingers so hard it hurt. “She hasn’t talked about anything else all week.”