Pack of Dorks (5 page)

But, you know, whatever. I got a piece of paper from my notebook and wrote:
Becky, my mom had her baby! I’m a big sister! And bad news, don’t tell Tom, but I lost my ring! Did I miss anything yesterday?

I passed it to April, who passed it down the row until it landed on Becky’s desk. Ms. Drake was taking lunch orders, so she wasn’t even paying attention. Becky fluffed her curls and slowly unfolded the note. Tom was twisted in his seat, still talking to her. Becky huffed and shook her head and then—oh, lollipop farts!—she passed the note to Tom! She didn’t even glance over at me. Strange thing Number Four.

“Sorry to hear about you and Tom.” Sam half-turned in his seat toward me. If his cheeks weren’t pink, I wouldn’t have believed the whisper came from him.

“Strange thing Number Five.”

“Excuse me?” he asked, now fully turned around.

“What about me and Tom? What are you sorry about?” I shoved my sleeve cuff over my hand even though Tom already knew I lost the ring. What the heck was wrong with Becky? Why didn’t anyone make any sense today?

Sam’s chocolate eyes narrowed and he titled his head to the side like I was the one not making sense. “That you broke up,” he said, super slowly like he was talking to someone who might not speak the same language.

“Broke up!” I screeched.

“Lucy!” Ms. Drake snapped. “Speak to me after class.” Becky’s giggle rang through the room. And Tom, he was laughing, too. Ms. Drake clapped her hands. “Class! Attention!” And then she started droning on about fractions.

Broke up? Tom and I broke up? What? When? No way.

It took fourteen years at least for recess, even though the stupid clock only ticked through two hours. The bell finally rang, and Becky and Henry and Tom—my Tom!—dashed from their super conveniently located desks out the door and to the playground. And me? I got called to the front of the class for a lecture from Ms. Drake. Life is so not fair.

But Ms. Drake surprised me by not wearing her how-could-you face. Instead, it was a new face. One that I didn’t like, but couldn’t name yet. It was the face you might make if someone kicked your stomach. Maybe she had bad sausage for breakfast? That happened to Dad once and he made a similar face the whole day. I tried not to breathe through my nose. The bad sausage had some other, stinkier, effects, too.

“Have a seat, Lucy,” Ms. Drake said softly.

“Um, okay, Ms. Drake, but I’m really sorry about talking during class. I’ll never do it again. I really feel good about you drawing attention to it and know that I’ve learned my lesson so I’m just going to go straight to recess where I can tell the kids in my class that I’m sorry for my rudeness.”

“Sit down, Lucy.” Ms. Drake’s face popped out of the bad sausage look and more into her you’re-really-annoying-me expression. I sat down. “I heard from your mom this morning.”

“Ohhh-kay,” I said slowly.

“She told me . . . about your sister.” Bad sausage face again.

“Yeah, I’m a big sister. That’s a good thing.” It seemed like I needed to point that out for Ms. Drake, who must never have gotten any baby sisters and didn’t know. “Molly’s great. I mean, she’s mostly a lump. But she’s great.” I smiled encouragingly for Ms. Drake, hoping to pop her out of bad sausage face again.

Ms. Drake stared at me while a full minute of precious recess time ticked by. Finally, she patted my hand and said, “If you ever want to talk, Lucy . . .”

“. . . I’ll make sure I don’t do it during class!” I finished for her, happy to have this bizarre conversation heading back to familiar ground.

Ms. Drake’s mouth popped open and she slowly closed it again. Not wanting to drag this out farther, I jumped out of my seat. “See you after recess, Ms. Drake!”

Chapter Four

I was sure that Becky would be waiting for me by the doors. That’s what she always did when Ms. Drake kept me after class. Then we would trail around the playground until Henry and Tom showed up and chased us. We’d play tag until the bell rang. That’s what we always did. But she wasn’t there.

“Whatcha doing?” April stood in front of me on the playground, holding a jump rope in her hand and her mouth hanging slightly open.

“Have you seen Becky?” I asked her. “I need to talk to her.”

“She’s not going to talk to you. Want to jump rope?”

I shook my head without looking at her. I saw a flash of red curls near the monkey bars, and took off after them.

“Becky!” I called as I got closer. Tom—my Tom!—was chasing her. The two of them stopped and stood statue still with their backs to me when they heard me.

“Lucy.” It was the first time Henry had ever spoken to me. His voice was surprisingly deep. He stood straight in front of me, close enough for me to smell his egg sandwich breath, and crossed his arms. Behind him, Becky and Tom slowly turned around toward me, their arms crossed, too.

All around us, fourth graders stopped what they were doing and stared. It was super quiet, but not the buzzing sort of quiet like behind the ball shed. This was church quiet.

“Henry,” I finally replied, when it became obvious Egg Breath wasn’t planning on moving out of my way anytime soon. “I need to talk to—”

“They don’t want to talk to you.”

“What?” I stopped trying to stretch around Henry and fell back on my heels. Henry’s face was deep red and his mouth a straight line. He kept glancing around at the other fourth graders creeping slowly in to listen.

“They don’t want to talk to you,” Henry said again. His voice shook just for a second when he added, “No one likes you. Tom hates you now. You suck at kissing.”

The crowd gasped, or maybe it was just me. I didn’t want to cry, but suddenly my cheeks were wet. Tom leaned forward and whispered something in Henry’s ear. Henry crossed his arms tighter and spat, “He hopes you cry until you die.”

Tom made a coughing noise. Henry rolled his eyes a little and mumbled something else.

“What?” I squeaked.

Henry sighed and stared up at the sky. “Tom wants his ring back.”

I twisted my jacket sleeve around my hand. “I don’t have it any more. He knows that.” I seemed only able to speak in squeaks.

“Then you owe me five bucks, too!” Tom yelled.

Becky laughed. For real!

The bell rang and everyone ran inside, except me. I watched my former best friend and the former love of my life run side by side into the school. Becky’s fingers were loosely linked with Henry’s but all her attention was on Tom. Becky’s giggle, fake and stupid and mean, trailed back to my ears.

The school doors slammed shut, but I stayed put. Maybe I
would
cry forever, until I died. Until a river of tears carried me far, far away from this place where diamond rings turn your finger green, where boys you kiss hate you three days later, where best friends laugh when you cry, where parents stop liking you, and where babies are born different.

“Time to go inside, sweetie.” Ms. Drake put her hand softly on my shoulder. It wasn’t like Grandma’s heavy hand. It was light as a bird landing on me, but the touch seemed to burn my skin anyway. Now Ms. Drake was calling me “sweetie.” What was this world coming to?

She pressed gently against my shoulder toward the door. She led me straight to the girls’ bathroom. “You go on in and splash some cold water on your face before coming back to the classroom.”

I splashed so much water on my face that my shirt was wet all the way to the middle of my chest and my bangs were splattered across my forehead. But my eyes weren’t red any more. I blotted the damp clothes and face with a handful of brown paper towels and then decided I couldn’t wait any more.

Slowly, slowly, slowly I walked down the hall to the classroom. Ms. Drake never stopped talking, but I could feel every single kid’s face turn toward me as I walked in. I had to walk past all of the desks to get to my seat. Becky giggled softly and I heard a “heh, heh” snorty sound I knew was Tom’s stupid laugh. He whispered something that sounded a lot like “drool.”

“It’s water, you moron!” I snapped, a little louder than I probably should’ve considering I was just in trouble for talking during class. Some people in the class laughed, Ms. Drake slammed her hand down on her desk, and Tom’s face turned even redder. Becky rolled her eyes at me.

So, basically, I was the moron, I guess.

I can’t tell you what happened the rest of the day, because I honestly don’t remember. All I know is that no one talked to me. No one looked at me. No one. At lunch time, I sat by myself at a little table right by the doors. On the bus, even April sat somewhere else. And when I got to the bus stop, for some reason I thought maybe Mom or Dad would be there, since both of them were home with Molly this week. But they weren’t. I walked the two blocks home by myself and my cheeks got wet again.

I stepped up to the porch and was about to open the door when I heard Mom singing that Molly was her sunshine, her only sunshine. I dropped my book bag and went to the backyard. I went all the way to the edge of the yard, where a small stream slashed the line between our yard and the old folks’ who lived behind us. The sound of the water really made me have to pee. But I sat by the creek for about an hour until I heard Dad calling my name. I ran up the yard and came into the house, letting the screen door slam behind me.

“Where have you been?” he snapped. “Why were you in the backyard?”

I shrugged. Why did it take him so long to notice?

He handed me the phone. “It’s for you. It’s Becky.”

“Lucy?” Becky’s voice was too girly sweet.

I made a choky sound. I was aiming for hello, but whatever.

“Are you okay?” she asked, still in that too-sweet voice.

“No!” I bellowed, my voice finally working right. “I am
not
okay.”

She was totally quiet and I almost hung up the phone. “Look. Tom kept saying mean things about you yesterday. You weren’t there.”

“I know I wasn’t there,” I snapped. “I was having a baby sister at the time.” Behind me, I heard Dad make a choky sound, too, only his sounded a lot like someone trying not to laugh. I stomped down the hall with the phone to my room.

“Well,” said Becky, her voice more regular now. “Then everyone started talking about you. I knew you’d want me to find out what they were saying, so I pretended not to like you, too, so I could find out. Then you came back today and I couldn’t show them I was your best friend, not after pretending I wasn’t, so I just went with it. I’m really sorry.”

I took deep breaths through my nose and stared at myself in the mirror over my dresser, trying to understand what Becky was saying. “So, you’re still my best friend?”

“Yeah,” Becky puffed.

She’s my friend. She made a mistake today, but she was calling to tell me sorry. Who needs a stupid boyfriend when you have a best friend, right? Tomorrow things would be better. My eyes got wet again, this time because I suddenly felt so much better.

Stupid eyes.

“But here’s the thing,” Becky said much too fast. “I’m going to keep pretending not to like you. You know, for you. So we know what people are saying. I’ll call you every night and we’ll talk about it, but no one can know I’m still your best friend at school, okay?”

I swallowed hard. I tried to understand what this meant. So, I could either have one friend—Becky—who was only my friend when no one was around. Or, I could have no friends. “Is this because of what you said on Friday? About how you used to be a dork?”