The Kind of Friends We Used to Be (14 page)

Matthew held up his hand. “Personally, I’m for cheeseburgers. Though I respect vegetarians. My cousin Ryan is a vegetarian because he refuses to eat anything he wouldn’t kill, and since he can’t imagine killing a cow or a pig, he basically doesn’t eat meat.”

“How about a deer?” Kate said. “Would he kill a deer?”

“That’s the funny thing,” Matthew answered, draping an arm around Kate’s shoulders. “He has killed a deer. He lives out in the country, and my uncle’s really into hunting, and one
time last year Ryan killed a deer. But after they cooked it and everything, he didn’t like the way it tasted.”

“That’s ironic,” said Marylin, then wished she hadn’t, because she wasn’t sure if she 100 percent knew what “ironic” meant, and maybe it didn’t mean what she thought it meant at all.

But Kate and Matthew both laughed, and Kate said, “No kidding,” and Marylin suddenly felt okay.

What an interesting experience, she thought later, as she was taking out her homework folder in math. To have a conversation and feel okay about it afterward.

Quite frankly, Marylin hadn’t known that was possible.

Student Government meetings were held Monday nights in the media center. Marylin had expected to be bored half the time, because Clarissa Sharp, who had been a representative the year before, had told her there were a lot of budget discussions and debates over whether or not the Chess Club should get to use a
school van to go to tournaments at other schools. Before Marylin went to the first meeting, she’d tucked a copy of the most recent
Seventeen
in her back pouch, thinking she could sneak-read it if the meeting got supremely dull.

To her surprise, Marylin found all of it interesting, from the explanation of how to use
Robert’s Rules of Order
to the line-by-line review of the activities budget. It didn’t hurt that the Student Government president, Benjamin Huddle, was cute in a geeky sort of way. Marylin wondered if she could somehow tactfully suggest that he get contact lenses and trade out his button-down shirts for T-shirts. It would, in her opinion, make a huge difference.

There were two other seventh-grade representatives. One was Alison Crabtree, a soccer player with one of those outgoing personalities that made it impossible to know if she liked you or not, because she acted like everyone in the world was her best friend, and how could that be? The other representative was a boy named Saunders Peck. Saunders Peck was
known for being smarter than everyone else and very ambitious, but if he had an actual personality, Marylin had never heard about it. She had tried to be nice to him at first, but he’d hardly responded at all, just sort of sniffed at her. She wondered if he thought she was beneath him because she was a cheerleader and not some rocket scientist.

So it came as a surprise that, after the second meeting in December, Saunders Peck asked Marylin if she would like to accompany him to the Student Organizations Holiday Extravaganza that weekend.

“It’s at the Holiday Inn on Bryson Boulevard,” he told her in the hallway as they walked toward the front door. “Music, snacks, some sort of moronic entertainment—according to my brother, who was Student Government president a few years ago. He’s the one who would drive us. Dan, that is. My brother. He goes to Parkside High School now.”

“Is he Student Government president there?” Marylin asked, trying to stall for time. She did not in any way want to go to the
Holiday Extravaganza with Saunders Peck, but she needed a nice way to say no and was having a hard time coming up with one.

Saunders scowled. “No, but that’s because they’re all idiots. Oh sure, it’s supposed to be one of the best high schools in the state, but if you’re not popular, forget about running for office there.”

Marylin thought this was probably not a great time to turn Saunders down. “I’d better check to see if my mom’s out front,” she said, turning toward the school entrance. “She gets mad if I make her wait.”

Scurrying to the front door, her fingers crossed that her mom’s car would be at the curb, Marylin tried desperately to come up with a plan. There was no possible way she was going to go to the Holiday Extravaganza with Saunders Peck. First of all, as a middle-school cheerleader, there was only so much she could get away with. Being friends with Kate Faber? Acceptable, if not preferable. Taking Student Government seriously, even if her real role there was to make things better
for middle-school cheerleaders? Pushing it. Going on a date with Saunders Peck, a boy who, while academically and politically successful, was not actually that cute and by the time high school rolled around might drop off into the abyss of unpopularity?

Forget about it.

Besides, Marylin didn’t think she liked him very much, which had nothing to do with her being a middle-school cheerleader, just her own personal feelings. Shouldn’t her feelings count for something? She didn’t have to say yes just because somebody asked her to do something, did she? She didn’t always have to be nice just because she was a nice person.

It would have been useful if her mom’s car had been parked out front, but it wasn’t, which meant Marylin was going to have to take a deep breath, go back inside, and tell Saunders kindly, but firmly, that she did not want to go to the Holiday Extravaganza with him.

Fortunately, at the last second she noticed Benjamin Huddle standing over by the statue of the Brenner P. Dunn Middle School wildcat,
the school mascot, his backpack on his back, both straps on his shoulders, his blue jacket zipped all the way up, so that he looked like a little kid.

“Oh, hi, Benjamin,” Marylin said, a little zing of excitement zipping through her. She didn’t know if she was excited because now she didn’t have to go back inside, or if it had more to do with the fact that standing out in the cold all zipped up, Benjamin Huddle was cuter than she’d ever realized. Marylin wondered if he had a girlfriend. “Are you waiting for your mom?”

That sounded stupid, Marylin thought, like a question you’d ask a preschooler. But Benjamin didn’t seem to mind. He walked over to Marylin and said, “My dad, actually. My mom teaches at the Arts Center on Monday nights.”

“What does she teach?” Marylin asked, hoping her questions would make this bloom into an actual conversation.

“Drawing for kids,” said Benjamin. “Not little kids. Kids our age who are sort of advanced.”

“I wish I could draw,” Marylin said, setting her back pouch on the sidewalk. “But all I can do are stick people.”

Benjamin laughed. “Yeah, me too. It’s a huge disappointment to my mom. She wants all my brothers and sisters to be Picassos or something.”

“How many brothers and sisters do you have?”

“Four, if you can believe it. I’m the oldest, with the least artistic talent.”

“But you’re good at other stuff,” Marylin insisted. “I mean, you’re a great Student Government president.”

“Do you really think so?” Benjamin asked, stepping even closer. “I worry that we’re not getting enough done.”

“Are you kidding? I can’t believe how much we’ve done in just three meetings,” Marylin said. “I don’t have much experience or anything, but I’ve been pretty amazed at all the stuff we’ve covered so far.”

Cars began streaming into the school driveway, headlights bouncing against the wildcat.
“Oh, there’s my mom,” Marylin said, spotting the silver minivan at the end of the line.

Benjamin scanned the line of cars. “Yeah, I see my dad, too.” He shifted the weight of his pack, then turned to her. “Uh, Marylin, I was wondering—”

He was interrupted by Saunders Peck, who jumped up beside him. “What’s taking you so long?” he asked Marylin, sounding irritated. “I’ve been waiting in there for at least three minutes.”

“Oh, Saunders, hi.” Marylin’s voice sounded fakey to her ears. It sounded like a voice in a TV show filled with bad actors. “Um, about that Extravaganza, what I meant to tell you was—”

“What?” Saunders asked in an impatient tone of voice. “What did you mean to tell me?”

“I’m already going with someone else?” Marylin looked at Benjamin, who appeared confused by this turn of events. “Right, Benjamin?”

A headlight shined in Benjamin’s eyes, and Marylin could see that he suddenly got it.
“Yeah, sorry, Saunders. Marylin’s going with me.”

Saunders gave Marylin a stricken look. “You might have said something inside, you know. I guess this is like a joke to you, right? Like maybe other people don’t have feelings?”

Marylin and Benjamin watched Saunders stomp off toward the car in front of the pickup line. “Wow,” Benjamin said. “That guy has some anger management problems.”

“I don’t know, I think he’s just kind of embarrassed,” said Marylin, feeling terrible that she hadn’t handled things better. Okay, so there was no way she was going to have said yes, but she should have found a direct way to tell him no. She should have pretended she was Kate and said something straight off the bat. Now she felt like a really rotten person.

But at the same time she felt great. She looked at Benjamin, who really was cute, and actually kind of tall. And presidential, Marylin thought. A little goofy, but definitely presidential.

“So, anyway, my mom or dad will have to
drive us and everything,” Benjamin said, sounding apologetic. “Because, well, I don’t have my license.” He paused. “That sounded stupid, didn’t it? You wouldn’t actually expect me to have my license.”

Marylin laughed. Was it possible that this cute, presidential-looking boy worried as much as she did about saying dumb things? “It didn’t sound stupid. And it’s okay about your parents driving. I don’t mind.”

“Thanks,” Benjamin said. He turned toward his dad’s car, then turned back again. “By the way, did I ask you, or did you ask me?”

“I think we kind of asked each other,” said Marylin.

Benjamin grinned. “Cool.”

Yeah, Marylin thought, walking over to where her mom was parked. Cool.

Here was the problem: The Extravaganza was on Saturday night, and Marylin was supposed to stay at her dad’s. Normally it would be okay, under the circumstances, for Marylin to come back home late Saturday afternoon, so that
Benjamin’s parents wouldn’t have to drive all the way to her dad’s apartment to pick her up for the party. But on this particular Saturday night, her mom was going on a pre-Christmas visit to Aunt Tish’s house, which was three hours away. Marylin made the case that she should be able to spend the night by herself in her own house, but her parents weren’t buying it.

“Why don’t you see if you could spend the night at Kate’s house?” her mom had asked, which would have been a good idea, only Kate’s family was going to be out of town that weekend too. “So what about Mazie? Or another one of your cheerleader friends?” her mom had then suggested reasonably. “There’s got be somebody who can help you out.”

Thinking over her options, Marylin realized she did not want to stay over at Mazie’s house. Mazie would not be supportive. She would have a list of at least twenty-five things that were wrong with Benjamin Huddle, even if he was Student Government president. She would make fun of Marylin before Benjamin picked
her up, and she would make fun of Benjamin after he dropped Marylin off.

This was not how Marylin wanted her first date to be. She loved the idea of spending the night with a friend so that they could go over the date in detail afterward, but it needed to be a nice friend, a supportive friend, a friend who would be excited for Marylin. Marylin imagined the two of them—whoever the friend might be—wrapped up in bathrobes and sipping hot chocolate as they discussed everything that had happened, from the minute that Benjamin knocked on the door to the minute he dropped her off after the Extravaganza was over.

Mazie was not that kind of friend.

To be honest, neither was Kate, Marylin had to admit, although Kate would be a hundred times better than Mazie. Kate could appreciate the appeal of Benjamin Huddle, unlike Mazie, who only appreciated eighth-grade football players.

And then it came to her. Ruby Santiago. Marylin had been dying to spend the night at
Ruby’s all fall, just waiting for the chance for the two of them to bond. Of course, Ruby was not the sort of person you asked to spend the night. You had to wait for her to ask you. But this was a special occasion, and just the opportunity Marylin had been looking for.