Not That I Care (13 page)

Zoe was adjusting the ring on her finger as we got to the door of her French classroom. I decided it was none of my business who got friendship rings with whom. Zoe asked me, “Did you have fun putting together the project for English class over the weekend?”

“Fun?”

“It was harder than it seemed, I thought.”

“I agree,” I said. The assignment was to fill a brown paper bag with ten objects that, taken together, would give a complete picture of who you are. I’d worked all weekend on it and felt pretty confident about the ten things I’d chosen. “I can’t wait to present it,” I told Zoe.

CJ approached us, rubbing her right hip. I asked her if it was hurting.

She shook her head very quickly and said, “Um, a little. But, I mean, no.”

“That’s good,” I told her as encouragingly as I could. She always seems to be in the midst of an anxiety attack.

“Thanks,” she said, clasping her hands tightly behind her back. Tommy Levit walked past us. He’s the boy CJ had decided she liked last week. CJ covered her face with her hands. I resisted groaning.

CJ lifted her face and announced, “Tommy asked me out.”

“Oh,” I said. “When?”

“Friday,” CJ said.

“Congratulations.” I had no more to say about that subject. I don’t know what everybody sees in Tommy Levit. He’s a twin with Jonas Levit, which is inherently interesting, I guess. And he is nice-looking in a generic American way, with dimples and a sarcastic look on his face, but I really don’t see why so many of the girls in our grade act stupid around him, especially after last year, when Morgan went out with him and he kissed her so hard and so unexpectedly that she dumped him and hasn’t really spoken to him much since. He’s the kind of boy who likes to tease—and CJ is someone who can’t easily withstand teasing. But since it wasn’t my business, I didn’t say a thing. I opened a folder holder and put away my permission slip.

I noticed CJ watching me and realized she wouldn’t be able to go, because of dance. No wonder she seemed even more tense than usual. “So you can’t go on the trip, huh?” I asked her.

“What?” Zoe asked. “Why?”

Morgan, who was passing us on her way to Spanish, said, “Dance.”

“Hey, wait up,” CJ called to her, and chased her down the hall. She is often chasing after Morgan, apologizing or complimenting. Now Zoe chased after CJ, asking, “What is Olivia talking about, you can’t go apple picking?”

CJ shook her head, trying still to catch up to Morgan. I slowed down. I hate how desperate my friends seem lately, how nervous.

“Why can’t you go?” Zoe wasn’t getting much response from CJ, so she turned and asked me, “Why can’t CJ go apple picking?”

“We don’t get back until six-thirty,” I explained, since I had caught up.

“Yeah? So?”

“So,” said Morgan, stopping outside Spanish. CJ almost bumped into her. “CJ has dance at four on Mondays. Not that she even likes ballet anymore, but . . .”

That surprised me. “You don’t?” I asked CJ.

“It’s complicated,” CJ answered, nervously fingering her hair. She is so pale, you can see the veins on the side of her forehead.

“You like it or you don’t,” Morgan told her, with disgust in her voice. “How complicated is that?”

“You can’t miss one day?” Zoe asked CJ.

CJ shook her head. “Something could happen, some casting director could come to watch. You can’t. And especially, my mother?”

Morgan blew her long, dark bangs out of her eyes. “CJ’s mother says, ‘It’s important to devote yourself to something so you’ll stand out from the crowd.’” She mimicked CJ’s mother perfectly. I’ve heard her mother say those exact words, in fact.

“Really?” Zoe asked. “She says that?”

“All the time,” Morgan answered. “Makes me feel great.”

“She doesn’t mean anything against you,” CJ apologized. In fact, CJ’s mother thinks Morgan is a bad influence on CJ, coming from a messed-up family with an immature father who ran off to California with a young floozy and a nasty angry mother with no manners. CJ’s mother and mine talk every day. They both wish CJ would be best friends with me instead. CJ’s hands fluttered up to her hair again. “She just, it’s true that . . . I really wanted to go apple picking.”

Zoe’s smile tightened. “Or at least hay-stacking.”

“Yuck,” I said. It slipped out.

“I like apples,” CJ protested in her whispery voice.

“Yeah, apples.” Zoe turned the ring around on her finger. “An apple a day.” The bell rang. Zoe gasped. She’s the only one of us who takes French instead of Spanish. She ran back down the hall toward her class.

Morgan grabbed my elbow again and asked, “Don’t you think it’s pathetic when all some girls obsess about is boys, boys, boys?”

I glanced at CJ, who turned away. I didn’t want to insult her, but the truth is, I do think boy-craziness is pathetic and gross. I nodded at Morgan. She yanked me into Spanish class with her.

After Spanish, Morgan pulled my arm down the corridor. The rest of me followed. Morgan whispered, “CJ thinks she’s above everybody else. Doesn’t she?”

I asked what she meant. CJ is a family friend; we protect each other even if we don’t always enjoy each other’s company.

“CJ is even more impressed with herself than usual, don’t you think?”

“I hadn’t noticed,” I whispered back.

Morgan nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. It is hard to tell, since she’s always Miss Prima Ballerina. You’re absolutely right.”

That wasn’t exactly what I had meant. I held the cafeteria door open, and Morgan dragged me through it. She walks so fast it was a challenge for me to keep up with my elbow.

“But now that Tommy Levit asked her out . . .” Morgan sighed, shaking her head. I sat down and she squeezed in beside me, at the end of the table. Morgan cupped her hand over my ear and whispered, “And did you see her ugly ring?”

“The friendship ring?” I asked.

“Yeah, hard to miss, the way they’re waving their hands around, huh?” Morgan kicked off her sandals and folded her foot underneath her. “Guess CJ is pretty thrilled with herself, getting to be best friends with Zoe the Grand One.”

That was witty of Morgan to come up with, I thought; nobody had ever called Zoe Grandon
the Grand One
before. I opened my 7UP and repeated, “Zoe the Grand One.”

“Yeah.” Morgan took one of my pretzel sticks, waved it around in a small circle beside her head, and whispered, “Hooray for them and screw us.”

I laughed and the 7UP I’d just sipped went right up my nose. “Ouch,” I said, which made Morgan laugh so much she had tears in her eyes. I offered her more pretzels. She was sitting so close to me I could feel the warmth from her arm on mine. I usually like more personal space than that, so I finished up lunch quickly and suggested we go outside for the rest of the period.

She said, “Absolutely”

That’s another thing about Morgan—she’s very emphatic. When the bell rang, she got hold of my elbow again, and we walked that way to our lockers and then to English/social studies. People watched us pass.

Every girl has her own story.
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THE FRIENDSHIP RING
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Rachel Vail

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