Harsh Pink with Bonus Content (12 page)

“Y
OU’RE A PIECE OF WORK
, R
EAGAN,” SAYS
J
OCELYN ONCE WE’RE IN MY CAR
. They’re the first words she’s spoken since the big argument. And I know her silent treatment was aimed at me, since all the other cheerleaders had long since left the locker room by the time Jocelyn emerged from the showers. I expected her to be a shriveled prune.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her as I put my car into reverse. “But it wasn’t really my fault.”

“Uh-huh.”

I can tell she doesn’t believe me. To be fair, I don’t believe me either. “Honestly, Jocelyn,” I try “All I said was that I couldn’t host the barbecue and suddenly they were all like, ’Let’s make Jocelyn do it,’ and — ”

“And you didn’t stand up for me. You didn’t defend me. I thought you were my friend.”

“Just because I’m your friend doesn’t mean I have to fight your battles, Jocelyn.” Suddenly I’m angry. I mean, she’s not the only one with crud to deal with. Sure, she might be poor. But maybe being poor is better than living with an angry mom and a crazy grandma, not to mention being the new girl. She’s not saying anything now. I think she’s pouting, but I’m getting really mad. “And what about you?” I toss back. “I thought you were my friend, but just how are you doing that anyway? I’m the one who gives you rides everywhere. I’m the one who helped you when you got plastered at Kendra’s party. What kind of friend are you being to me, Jocelyn?”

Now there’s a great long silence and I think she’s crying, but I’m so angry that I don’t really care. I mean, really, why does she get to pick on me for being a lousy friend when she’s really not doing much better? What’s fair about that?

Finally I’m pulling up to her house and she’s opening the door and I think,
Fine, just leave without saying anything — I am finished with you!

“I’m sorry,” she mutters. “You’re right. I haven’t been a good friend. I’m sorry!” Then she shuts the door and runs up to her house. Great, now I can’t even stay mad at her.

When I get to my house, I feel like hitting something, and I know all I have to look forward to is cleaning up Nana’s messes before Mom gets home. But to my surprise there are no messes. And Nana looks neat and clean and fully dressed as she sits in her recliner watching the country music channel.

“Hi, Nana,” I say cautiously “What’s going on?”

She looks up and smiles. “Nothing.”

I walk through the kitchen. All is clean and tidy I go to the downstairs bathroom — the same. Even her bedroom is respectable. I come out and stand between her and the TV, which makes her frown. “Did you clean house?” I ask, thinking maybe it’s a miracle. Maybe whatever it is that’s been making her act so strangely the past couple of years has moved on.

“No,” she says with a grin. “My friend was here.”

“Your friend?”

She gets a puzzled look. “That girl … the one I found in the garden.”

“Andrea?”

She points a finger in the air. “Yes! Andrea. She came to see me again today.”

“Oh.” I move out of the way of the TV, go into the kitchen, and start poking around to see what I can fix for dinner. What is Andrea up to anyway? Does she think if she’s nice to Nana, I will suddenly want to be her friend? No one could be that crazy. I finally decide on spaghetti, shoving thoughts of both Andrea and Jocelyn from my mind.

***

The next morning I don’t know what to do. Normally I give Jocelyn a ride to school, but I feel like our friendship is over and I don’t really want to go pick her up and prolong something that needs to end. I consider calling her and making some excuse, but then I come up with an easier way out. I decide to be late to school. When I don’t show up, she’ll have to walk. I know this is mean and she’ll be late for class. But then, so will I. Doesn’t that balance things out?

I take my time fixing Nana’s breakfast. I take even more time fixing her lunch — tuna salad, which she loves. I even go ahead and change her sheets, a chore I usually put off for the end of the day. And I put a load of laundry in the washer and really scrub down the kitchen. I pause to admire our kitchen. It really is pretty cool, especially compared to our seventies condo back in Boston. I couldn’t believe it when I first saw this house. Everything was new and clean. The kitchen, with its dark cherry cabinets, granite slab countertops, and stainless-steel appliances, looked like something right out of a magazine. And we’d never had hardwood floors before. I think they look really elegant, and Mom plans to get an oriental rug for the entryway. Seriously, if it wasn’t for the Nana factor, I’d probably consider hosting a barbecue here just to help Jocelyn off the hook. Although it wouldn’t be as uptown as Kendra’s, I think I might possibly be able to pull it off with a certain amount of class.

But as I walk through the living room, where Nana is already seated in her pink electric-lift recliner, I reconsider. There’s no way I will offer to have the barbecue here. I feel sorry for Jocelyn, but she’ll have to fend for herself. Fortunately Nana has no sense of time and has no idea that I’m running late or even that it’s a school day. My plan is to miss all of first period, which is AP History, but I’m totally caught up so I’m not worried. If anyone asks, I’ll tell them I had a flat tire. In fact, that’s what I’ll tell Jocelyn too. Of course, she’ll ask why I didn’t call. I glance at my cell phone, still turned off and sitting on the breakfast bar. I’ll tell her my battery was dead. That’s easy enough.

“Bye, Nana,” I say as I sling my new Marc Jacobs bag over my shoulder. Mom’s actually letting me use this one since she got a Kate Spade pocketbook that’s to die for. (I’ll figure out a way to borrow that later.)

“Bye-bye, honey.” Nana wiggles her fingers in a wave, then turns back to watch the Martina McBride video.

I get to school in time for second period, and for the rest of the day I avoid Jocelyn. Fortunately I only see her once and that’s as I’m coming into the cafeteria. She’s sitting with the JV cheerleaders, and I’m thinking that’s probably a good thing. I sit with Kendra and her friends during lunch. It’s amazing how easy it is now. It’s like they’re really accepting me. But that’s where I hear the news.

“Jocelyn bailed on the barbecue,” says Meredith.

“I heard that,” says Kendra, shaking her head as if she’s disappointed.

“I
knew
she would,” says Sally in a vicious tone. “She’s such a baby. They shouldn’t let sophomores try out for varsity. It’s just wrong.”

Then they all go on about how girls should have to be at least juniors to be on varsity, and how it’s really Jocelyn’s fault that Kendra is still left out.

“But how did Jocelyn get out of it?” I finally ask. Okay, I’m curious to find out how Jocelyn escaped this horrible fate just in case they decide to force it back on me now.

“Didn’t you hear?” asks Kendra.

I shake my head.

“Her mother wrote a note.”

They all laugh as if this is hysterically funny.

“How lame is that?”

“Totally pathetic.”

“Poor Jocelyn,” says Kendra. “I think the stress may be getting to her.”

I nod and act like I’m with them. But at the same time, I’m thinking the stress is getting to me.

“Anyway …” Sally looks at me and I know something is up. “We’ve decided that you should go ahead and host the barbecue, Reagan. Are you okay with that?” She actually smiles at me like we’re good friends now.

“And I’ll help you with the details,” announces Kendra. “I won’t be coming, of course, since I’m only an alternate. But you’re my friend, Reagan, and I can help you figure things out. Okay?”

“I … uh … I don’t know …”

“Come on,” says Meredith. “You’ll be fine. I saw your house and it’s brand-new and way nicer than mine.” She jabs Sally with her elbow. “And yours too, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

“But, I — “

“We’ll go shopping together,” promises Kendra. “I know this totally great party store where we can get some really cool plates and napkins and things. If you want I’ll even call my caterer and you can — ”

“Okay!” I say suddenly, surprising even myself. “I’ll do it.”

Sally looks shocked, like she was really hoping that I’d refuse and make everyone mad, putting me, like Jocelyn, on the outside again. But I won’t give her the pleasure.

“Good girl,” says Kendra. “And you’ll see, entertaining can be fun. You just need to learn the tricks.”

I nod. “Yeah, you’re probably right, Kendra.”

“By the way, Reagan, I totally adore your bag. Marc Jacobs?”

As I confirm this and we all gush about how much we love Marc Jacobs shoes as well as bags, I can’t help but notice the grim expression on Sally’s face. And somehow that makes everything worthwhile. I can tell she’s furious about (1) the fact that I stood up to the barbecue challenge and (2) Kendra’s offer to help me make it a success. She is totally jealous that Kendra is giving me all this attention. Well, tough.

Once again, when I get home from school, things are nice and neat. I ask Nana if her friend visited again today and she smiles and says yes. And, while I don’t want to think too hard about why Andrea is doing this, I do feel grateful for the poor girl. Still, I don’t think I actually owe her anything since I never asked for her to do any of this. And she doesn’t have to unless she wants to.

Besides, I don’t have time to think about those things now since I’m obsessing over how I will possibly pull off this barbecue in just eight days. The biggest part of the challenge is what to do about Nana. Then it occurs to me that I might be able to hire Andrea to Nana-sit at her house. Maybe I could take Nana over that morning to give me enough time to get things in order. And I could move the horrible recliner into Nana’s bedroom and lock the door to make sure no one goes in. Okay, it seems like a lot of work, but it’s necessary. And I think it’s doable.

Hopefully Andrea will be up for this. I mean, it’s not like she has a life or anything. And, as I recall, it seems like her parents aren’t too well off, so she’d probably be glad to make some extra money. Even so, I decide to wait for just the right moment to ask her. I’ll probably need to be a little bit nicer to her first. But I need to be careful how I do this, because I really don’t want her to get the idea that someone like me needs someone like her. Because I don’t.

Our new uniforms arrive in time for the game. Everyone is so excited to try them on that we decide to use the first part of class to make sure the right items came and that they all fit.

“Here’s yours, Reagan,” says Sally, thrusting a plastic-wrapped package at me. Kendra is standing next to her, almost as if she’s supervising. But when I look down I notice a white computer label with the name Jocelyn Matthews printed on it. I’m about to mention this when Kendra reaches down and rips off the sticker. “Just a mistake,” she says, shaking her head. “Don’t worry about it. Jocelyn’s already got her uniform.”

Even so, I double-check the size of the top, and it’s what I ordered. When I slip it on, it’s perfect. Soon I’ve got the whole outfit on. And when my turn comes to look in the mirror, since the bathroom’s crowded with cheerleaders now, I can see that I actually look pretty good in it. Really, I think royal blue and white look much better on me than my old cheerleading outfit of brown and gold. I wonder if I should put my hair in a pony or just let it hang loose …

“What the — ” Jocelyn is holding up a uniform now, high so that we can all see, and I must say it looks rather enormous. “Whose is this?” she demands, looking at the rest of us with suspicious eyes.

“Planning to put on some weight, are you?” teases Meredith.

“This is
not
what I ordered!” she exclaims.

“Well, it had
your
name on it,” says Sally.

“Where?” demands Jocelyn. “I didn’t see my name on it anywhere.”

“On the sticker,” says Sally. “It was right on the front of the package. It must’ve fallen off.”

“Whatever,” snaps Jocelyn. “The point is, it does
not
fit me. It’s like size
elephant
, and there’s no way I can wear it.” She slips the huge top over her head to make her point and we all laugh, because it looks like a maternity smock.

“That’s too bad,” says Meredith.

“Too bad for you,” says Jocelyn. “Now we’ll all have to wear our old uniforms tonight.”

“No, we won’t,” says Sally calmly, but in a cold voice. “It’s not
our
fault if you don’t know how to write down your correct size, Jocelyn. Maybe the coach helped you with those things back on JV, but this is varsity, honey. We expect you to grow up here.”

Jocelyn lets out a low growling sound. “This is not fair.”

Meredith shakes her head. “You’re right about that, Jocelyn. It’s
not
fair to us that you screwed up. Now we’ll only have seven girls in uniform tonight. I wonder what Falon’s going to say.”

Jocelyn looks nervous now. She glances over at where Kendra is standing. Kendra, like the rest of us, is trying on her uniform, the one she insisted on getting just in case we needed an alternate. “I can borrow Kendra’s,” says Jocelyn in an amazingly confident voice.

“What?” says Kendra, clearly surprised.