Pink & Green is the New Black (2 page)

“It is?” I ask, even though I can easily turn my head and look out the window. “Oh, weird.”

Please say where Yamir is. Please say where Yamir is.
I don't want to have to ask. I wish Sunny would know that I need this information. She is my best friend, after all.

“Just you and your mom are going out for dinner?” I know I'm being obvious, but I don't even care. It's gotten to that point.

“Well, Yamir was supposed to come, but I think he went to some kid's house after basketball, and I'm not sure when he's getting back.” She groans. “Anyway, what's new with you?”

“Nada. Just trying to make sure everything is done before tomorrow's meeting. Did Mrs. Deleccio tell you when we're going up to speak?”

“Lucy, you were at the same meeting I was, and she said she doesn't know the order yet,” Sunny tells me, like I'm totally out of it. “Are you okay? You seem all weird.”

If both Sunny and my dad are asking if I'm okay, I guess I need to work on my acting skills. I don't want to be the girl who's all consumed over a guy. It's embarrassing, especially because I don't even know if there's really anything to be upset about.

It's just that it seemed like things were great and then one day they weren't. I guess the change didn't happen over a single day, more like over time. It's hard to say when, exactly. But after a while, I realized something was wrong.

So of course I'm going to feel confused. And now all I can think about is making it all great again. I can't accept that this weird, not-knowing feeling is just the way things are now.

“Yeah. I'm fine. I'm just nervous about the meeting.”

Sunny laughs. “Lucy! Come on, you'll be fine. I'm sure they already okayed the whole thing and are just making us speak to impress all the parents.” She pauses for a second, and I listen extra hard for Yamir. “They're not going to say no to a green cafeteria. It's the right thing to do. Especially after all the work we put into it.”

“You're right,” I say, because I don't really feel like talking about this anymore. “Anyway, I gotta go set the table. Enjoy your Mexican food. Pancho's or Enchiladas?”

“Pancho's, I think,” Sunny says. “My mom thinks it's
soooo
much better, even though she only eats cheese quesadillas.”

I laugh. Her mom really isn't an adventurous eater.

“I gotta go, Luce. My mom is calling me. Smooches.”

She hangs up, and I realize I don't have any more information than I had before I called.

Why is Yamir ignoring me?

I think his ignoring me means something more than just being busy. Something way worse.

Lucy's tip for surviving eighth grade:

It's okay to change your mind about things.

Yamir doesn't call or text
or anything to wish me good luck before the school board meeting. Maybe I shouldn't expect him to. I mean, he's in high school now, and the Old Mill Middle School Earth Club isn't part of his life anymore. But still, it would have been nice.

I'm sick of feeling like this, though—always wondering when I will hear from him. And besides, I have too many awesome things to focus on.

On my way into school, I decide to have a new outlook: I'm not going to stress over boys anymore. It's my last semester of middle school, and I need to make it the absolute best it can be. I'll never be here, in this place, with these people again. I need to make it count.

I need to make it perfect.

“Hey, Luce,” Annabelle Wilson says. She's at her locker,
reorganizing for the millionth time. She must have the neatest locker in the whole school. “Ready for tonight? I even brought a new dress to wear, in case we don't have time to go home and change.”

“That was such a good idea. I guess I'll just have my mom or grandma bring over a dress.” I close my locker and sit down on the floor for a few minutes before the first bell rings.

“Can you believe the meeting is tonight?” Annabelle asks.

“Not really. But kind of. If that makes any sense.” What I really can't believe is that Annabelle and I are friends now. In seventh grade we just worked together in Earth Club. And then last summer she took Bevin under her wing. But since the beginning of the year, we've actually become friends. I've even been to her house a few times. She's a kiss-up, but I don't mind it as much anymore. Sometimes she can be fun.

“We're going to be awesome.” Annabelle high-fives me. “See you at Earth Club later.”

Even though Annabelle and I are both in honors classes, we're in different sections, so we never see each other throughout the day. Maybe that's why it's easy for us to be friends. We have so much to talk about when we do see each other. I guess I can look at the Yamir situation that way too. We may not be seeing much of each other, but that means we should have tons to talk about, different experiences to share.

Only we can't share them, since he never calls! It's maddening.

Also, I think it's different with a boyfriend. I think you're supposed to hang out a lot. I could be wrong, but I'm pretty sure I'm right. Sunny and Evan hang out all the time. Same with my sister, Claudia, and her boyfriend, Bean. If you're in a relationship, you should spend time together. That's just the way it is. Otherwise what's the point of being in the relationship?

Sunny runs into school four seconds before the first bell rings. She's out of breath and she's rolling her bag on the floor instead of carrying it over her shoulder. It's the kind of backpack that can be carried both ways.

I'm putting some finishing touches on my “school day” makeup application, using the magnetic pink mirror that I keep inside my locker. I'm not really allowed to wear a lot of makeup to school, but I always do a quick mineral powder spread to make sure my skin looks even, a drop of pale pink eye shadow, and some clear lip gloss.

It helps me feel ready for the day. More awake. More put together.

And when I've had a stressful morning, a quick makeup application relaxes me. It helps me to slow down and focus.

“Mrs. O'Rourke is going to kill me. Again.” Sunny throws a few textbooks on the top shelf of her locker and slams the door. “I'm always late to her class.”

“She does hate tardiness,” I say, which I realize isn't helpful after I say it. “And I do too. I have a stomachache just thinking about it. Come on.”

“Calm down,” Sunny says, rolling her eyes. She straightens out her sweater. “Okay, I'm ready. Let's go.”

“Why are you late?” I ask. I know that's probably not a question Sunny wants to answer, but best friends want to know everything.

“Well, I overslept. Yamir took seventeen years in the bathroom, and then I had to shower. I burnt my toast, and my dad was on a business call when he was supposed to drive me.” She takes a banana out of her bag. “And now I'm starving, so I'm eating in the hallway and I don't even care.”

There's a “no eating except in the cafeteria” rule, but no one really follows it, especially the eighth graders. We're pretty good at sneaking food with no one seeing.

“Sounds like a hectic morning,” I say. We get to Mrs. O'Rourke's math class with a minute to spare and take our seats. Georgina and Eve are already working on the Problem of the Day like they're going to win a prize for figuring it out
first. Annabelle has turned them into overachievers. They're not quite at her level yet, but they're getting close.

I try to pay attention in class, but all I can think about is tonight's meeting. Every time the Yamir thing pops into my thoughts, I force myself to focus on the meeting instead. I have much more control over the meeting. I've done the prep work and I know what I'm going to say. I can do my best to bring about the outcome I want.

With Yamir, it's not like that at all. It sometimes seems like there's nothing I can do to make it the way I want it to be. And it's messing up my plan to have a perfect end to middle school.

At lunch, everyone is already at our table when I get there. I put down my bag and go to wait in the salad bar line.

Most people don't spend so much time thinking about their school cafeteria. But it's been on my mind so much these past few years that it's become a major part of my life. I see the plastic trays and imagine the biodegradable ones I found from the supplier. I see the plastic utensils and imagine switching to reusable metal ones. It's a great idea. The school board has to say yes.

When I get back to the table, it's clear that everyone has been whispering about me. I don't think there's anything more awkward than that. I never know if I should pretend I don't notice or just ask them what they were saying. I decide to sit
there and put the ranch dressing on my salad, sip my iced tea, and stay quiet. These are my friends, so they probably weren't saying anything bad.

But they keep staring at me as I chew a cucumber, and then it starts to get really weird.

“What?” I laugh. “Do I have a stain on my shirt or something?”

“No.” Eve shakes her head. “Nothing like that. I was just saying how lucky you are that you have an actual, real boyfriend who is in high school.”

Eve is definitely the most boy-crazy one at the table. She thinks everything should be the way it is in movies. She steals romance novels from her mom's bookshelf and loves to hear stories about how people propose and get engaged. It's kind of her hobby.

My cheeks get hot and I look at Sunny. She lives with Yamir—she has to know the truth, that my boyfriend isn't so much of a boyfriend anymore. I barely even see him. But she stays quiet, smiles and nods, and takes a bite out of her turkey wrap.

“Oh.” I shrug. “Yeah, I guess. I mean, it's just Yamir.”

“Just Yamir?” Georgina shrieks. “Okay, I know he's Sunny's brother and I don't want to gross her out, but he was the cutest kid in eighth grade last year!”

Georgina is a close second in the boy-crazy department. She's, like, Eve's sidekick for everything. So if Eve is into something, Georgina is too. But I think it's more that she wants to make Eve feel like she's not the only boy-crazy one. Georgina's one of those people who will always tell you you're doing the right thing. If you ever need any positive reinforcement, talk to Georgina.

“Grossing me out. Thanks.” Sunny looks down at the tinfoil around her sandwich. “Cool if you stop now.”

“He's in high school. That's all I'm saying,” Eve adds, but then continues—so it clearly wasn't all she was saying. “He's in a whole different school and he still chooses to be your boyfriend. That's a big deal.”

“We're going to be in high school next year too,” I remind them. “But thanks. It's cool to feel cool.” I laugh at how stupid that sounds and try to think of a way to change the topic.

“Speaking of boyfriends, where's Evan?” Eve asks Sunny. I think Eve keeps some kind of checklist on boyfriends—who has one, where they are, what they're doing. She keeps saying she prays every night that we'll all have one by Eighth-Grade Masquerade. We only have a couple of months to make that happen, and I'm not sure Annabelle even talks to boys except when it's about Earth Club or Mathletes.

“He only sits with us on Fridays.” Sunny laughs. “You know that.”

It's true, but it's funny when she says it out loud like it's an actual rule. At the beginning of the year, Sunny wanted Evan to sit with her at lunch, but Evan also wanted to sit with his friends. So they made up this silly plan that Evan would sit at our table on Fridays and Sunny would sit at his table on Mondays. But Sunny still sits at our table all the time, and Friday is pizza day anyway, so most people just grab slices and sit wherever they feel like.

It seems like their relationship is always perfect. I don't know what they're doing that I can't do. Maybe Sunny can teach a class on how to have a successful relationship. Or forget the class—maybe she can just teach me. Best friends are supposed to help each other out with those kinds of things.

“
Riiiight
.” Eve laughs. “I forgot.” As much as Annabelle has grown on me, Eve still bugs me. I guess everyone can't be perfect.

So we spend the rest of lunch talking about who in the grade has boyfriends and who doesn't, and who is going to bring a date to Eighth-Grade Masquerade. The conversation is making my stomach hurt, and I can barely finish my salad.

“Sunny and Lucy are so lucky that they don't have to worry
about this,” Georgina says. “If I can make Harrison Tate know my name by the dance, I'll consider myself lucky.”

“Georgina!” I shout, too loud for the cafeteria. Mr. Mikros gives me a look. “Don't be so hard on yourself. He's new to the school. I bet he doesn't know anyone's name.”

“He knows
my
name,” Eve says. “His dad just fixed our sprinklers and Harrison came to help him, and it was
soooo
embarrassing.”