Please, Please, Please (10 page)

“What?” Zoe asked.

Morgan looked at Zoe like she was shocked. “You don’t know?”

Olivia, Zoe, and I all shook our heads.

“After CJ told Tommy to, you know, forget about it? He was going around the upper playground after school like, Zoe and Lou, Zoe and Lou—he was telling everybody you’re after him.” She shook her head at Zoe. “I thought you knew.”

Zoe swallowed hard. All three of them bowed their heads and looked at me from under their eyebrows.

“I-I-I . . .” I didn’t know what to say. After everything, if Zoe starts hating me for this mess, I don’t know what I’ll do. Run away to my grandmother’s farm and live there for the rest of my life, maybe. How bad could cow poop and milk drippings really be?

“It’s not your fault,” Morgan said to me. “I mean, you shouldn’t have said anything to him in the first place, but once you told him to forget it, he didn’t have to be such a jerk.”

Olivia nodded. She has a very strict sense of morality. “That’s just cruel,” she said, then made a big slurping sound. “Sorry. It’s really hard to control your spit when you first get braces.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Morgan said. “We understand.”

Zoe and I nodded. Zoe was still busy inspecting her sneakers, thumping the right one against the dingy gray Sundries carpet.

“Thanks,” said Olivia. “See? That’s what I mean. Girls are so much nicer than boys.”

“He really did that?” Zoe asked Morgan.

“I thought you knew,” Morgan said. “That’s why I thought, well, I figured CJ probably broke up with him. I would. But, whatever.”

“I’m going to,” I said.

“Really?” Zoe asked.

I made myself nod. “That’s just, I mean, that’s so cruel. And you’re my, you’re more important to me, than, so . . .”

“We have to stick together,” Olivia said, slurping again. “Sorry.”

“It’s OK,” I said. “And if the boys think they’re getting any of our candy . . .”

“They can suck our shoelaces,” Zoe said. We all cracked up.

The four of us went over to the candy aisle and even found some Life Savers, which Olivia thought she could probably handle, in addition to red licorice and a bag of miniature Snickers. Zoe read over the label, which said, SNICKERS FUN SIZE, and said, “Boy, this sure is a fun size!”

“I never had such fun,” Morgan said. “Not with any other size!”

“I’m having fun already,” I added, but the laughter was dying down a little, and the three of them looked at me sort of quizzically.

“What?” Olivia asked.

“Hey,” I said. “I was just thinking, when you said we have to stick together or whatever?” I looked at Morgan, then down at her feet in their clunky sandals. Perfect turn-out.

“What about it?” Morgan asked.

I looked over at Zoe, but I couldn’t tell if she agreed with what I was about to do or if she even knew. But she’s such a friendly person, I decided she probably would be happy.

“Well,” I started, slowly, carefully. “Zoe and I got these rings here last week, and I was thinking, wouldn’t it be great if you guys got them, too?”

Zoe blinked a lot of times in a row.

“I don’t know,” Morgan said, her hands resting on her hips.

“It could be like a th-th-thing,” I said. “Like a, you know, like a bond. Between us.”

“Among us,” Olivia said. “‘Between’ is if there are only two.”

“Whatever,” I said. My left eye was twitching, and behind it I could feel my pulse.

“I don’t know if Zoe wants us to,” Morgan said.

“Me?” Zoe asked. Her smile looked a little nauseated. “They have plenty. In a bag. Under the thing. Counter. These aren’t the only two.”

I wanted to suck the offer right back into my mouth.

Morgan and Olivia looked at each other and shrugged. “Do you want to?” Olivia asked Morgan.

“I don’t have much money with me,” Morgan said.

“I have, don’t worry.” My voice sounded to me like it was far away in a tunnel, as I explained. “You only have to put down five dollars, then it’s two dollars a week after.”

“Installment,” Zoe said, blinking at the bags of candy in front of her.

We went up to the counter, and they chose rings. My headache was getting really bad, and I have to admit, I didn’t love the way those rings looked on Morgan and Olivia. Not that there’s anything wrong with or ugly about their hands. I don’t know. I was just in a lousy mood. I tried to hide it by smiling a lot. I was relieved when Morgan and Olivia waved their ringed hands good-bye and headed back to Olivia’s so Zoe and I could just sit on the curb and wait for my mother. We didn’t talk, which was nice. Zoe’s the kind of person who knows when you just need to not talk about it.

By three ten I was in a panic.

fourteen

M
om showed up at quarter
past three. I was a wreck but she was smiling so I figured I was safe. I climbed into the backseat with Zoe, who leaned forward to answer Mom’s questions. I listened to the music of their voices mingling with the Tchaikovsky Mom had put on the cassette player.

Every time the phone rang the rest of the afternoon, I bolted to get it. One time I was in the bathroom—I didn’t even flush, just ran into the hall yanking up my shorts. It was somebody wanting to know if we were interested in having our gutters cleaned.

“No, thank you,” I said in a high voice, pretending to be my mother.

“This autumn’s leaves can clog up the gutters and result in costly damage to your lovely house,” the voice on the other end warned.

“My husband takes care of it himself,” I said, hoping Dad does, and hung up.

“Your husband?” Zoe asked.

I shrugged and went back in to flush. We were supposedly doing some project in my room. Zoe was lying on my trundle bed, her arms behind her head, staring at the ceiling. I closed my door and sat in the corner, one leg against the door and one against the wall.

“Are you calling Tommy?” she asked me.

I stretched over my right leg. “Or I could just wait until Monday to break up with him. You know, in person.”

“Whatever you want,” Zoe said. “You don’t
have
to break up with him. I know, I mean, hay-stacking and everything. That was the point of all this. Right?”

“No,” I said. “The point was to be with you. With everybody. To be normal and have fun. The point was fun. Remember?”

“Oh, yeah,” she said. “Fun.”

“If you think I’m going through all this just to get kissed, you’re crazy.”

“Yeah.” She smiled. “He’s not even supposed to be a good kisser.”

I laughed, a little more than I meant to. It sort of came out a snort.

“Seriously,” she said. “Isn’t that why Morgan broke up with him last year?”

“She said Tommy practically broke her jaw off.” Zoe and I both laughed hysterically. She snorted, too, which made me feel better. “Anyway, after what he did? I’m not, the last thing I want is to, we have to stick, I mean, you’re my best friend.”

Zoe played with the knot of her friendship ring. “Thanks.”

“Are you mad?”

“About what?”

I stretched over my left leg, biting my knee. “About Morgan and Olivia?”

“What about them?” she asked without looking at me.

“About”—I sat up straight and looked at her, but she didn’t look back—“about, the rings.”

“No,” she said, but she didn’t sound positive.

“I just, I thought, I don’t know.” I dropped my head to the floor and rested my body there. “I’m sorry. I just want to please everybody, and I just, I mess everything up.”

Before she could answer the phone rang again. “I got it!” I yelled.

“Hello?” said the very familiar voice in my ear.

“Hi, Aunt Betsy,” I said, thinking,
Oh, no
. I brought the phone into my room and sat down next to Zoe on the trundle and mouthed, “It’s her.”

Meanwhile Aunt Betsy was saying, “Oh, hello, CJ. How are you?”

“Fine.” I held up my hands to Zoe like what do I do? Zoe sat up and tucked her long hair behind her ears. “How are you?” I remembered to ask, a little late.

I wasn’t really listening but I think she said she was fine and then asked to speak with Mom.

“Um,” I said. Zoe was doing charades, but I wasn’t sure what she meant I should say. Finally she pointed to my window. “She-she, my yard . . .”

“What?” Aunt Betsy asked.

I shook my head at Zoe, like
What?
Meanwhile, Zoe was rolling on the bed, laughing. “Out!” Zoe finally said.

“Out,” I repeated, trying not to crack up myself.

“What did you say?” Aunt Betsy asked me, in her deep, raspy voice.

I cleared my throat. “She’s out.”

“Already?” Aunt Betsy asked.

“No,” I blurted. Zoe’s eyes opened wide. “Yes!” I corrected myself, then took a breath and said, “She’s on her way out the door. So can, can she call you back tomorrow? She wants to know.”

“Sure,” Aunt Betsy answered. “Any time before five. We should be around all day.”

“Great. ’Bye,” I said, and hung up.

“Who was that?” Mom yelled from her bedroom.

“Um, Morgan!” I answered. Zoe and I stared at each other, frozen, waiting. Nothing happened. I lay down beside her, and we both stared at the ceiling. My head was pounding again.

Dad peeked in my door. “Girls?”

I sat up. “What?”

“We’re going.” Mom peeked in behind him. She was wearing her royal blue dress and her best clip in her French twist. She looked beautiful.

“Have fun,” I said. “You guys look great.”

“What do you have planned for tonight?” Mom asked us.

Zoe and I shrugged. “Nothing,” I said.

“OK,” said Mom. “Try to include Paul a little, though, please.”

“No problem,” said Zoe. “I’m the baby in my family, so I know.”

“Be good,” Dad said.

“Have fun,” Mom said. They both blew kisses and then left.

Zoe and I lay back on the bed. “Sorry about this,” I said. “Just what you feel like doing, I bet—hanging around an eight-year-old all night.”

“No,” she said. “He’s a great kid. And it’s not like anybody’s knocking down my telephone to ask me to do something exciting.”

I almost said,
Except maybe Lou
, but I wasn’t sure if we were quite ready to joke about that yet. “Well, thanks,” I said instead. “I have a headache.”

“Hey!” Zoe sat up. “Are we allowed to use the oven?”

I closed my eyes. “I guess. Why? They left us some fried chicken.”

“I thought maybe we could bake something. That might be fun.”

“Maybe,” I said.

“Hey, Paul!” she yelled.

“What?” I heard him answer from his room.

“You want to bake cookies with us?”

“Yeah!” he yelled back. He was at my door looking like an excited puppy when I turned my head. “Really?”

“Sure.” Zoe jumped off the bed and went to the door.

“Morgan always ignored me,” Paul told her.

“I’m more fun than Morgan.” Zoe looked back at me. “You coming?”

“My head really hurts,” I mumbled and put my hand over my eyes. “I’ll be down in a few. You start.”

“OK!” Zoe pushed Paul toward the stairs. I was asleep before they got there.

fifteen

I
was up really early this morn
ing. Zoe was asleep in the trundle and my clock said five seventeen. I just lay there for a few minutes not thinking until my life filled in and the panicky feeling came back. I crawled over Zoe who didn’t notice at all, went to the bathroom, then tiptoed downstairs.

There was a huge platter full of cookies on the center island in the kitchen. I lifted the plastic wrap and chose one—it was light yellowish, and in the center was a small circle of jam. It was absolutely delicious. I sat on the steps with my feet propped against the banister and enjoyed it.

Mom sat down on the step above me. I hadn’t even heard her coming.

“Ooo!” I said. We both jumped a little, then leaned against the wall with our feet up.

“You were asleep when I got home,” Mom whispered. “Zoe told us she had to call her sister to come over with flour for the cookies.”

“Really?”

“Embarrassing. What kind of house has no flour?”

I didn’t answer her.

Mom ran her fingers through her wet hair and said, “Zoe is really sweet. Paul was pretending to be asleep when we got home, but he was smiling so much he couldn’t fool us at all. She really won him over.”

I finished the cookie.

“You want to do your stretches in the living room?” Mom offered. “I’m going to bring Daddy some coffee, and then I’ll come sit with you.”

“OK,” I said.

When she got down, I was on my back with my feet over my head. “What if I never make principal dancer?” I asked her when she was settled on the couch. It was my new plan, my way to tell her I was quitting.

“As long as you give it your all, I’m satisfied.” It’s not what she was supposed to say.

I pushed the stretch harder as the
Swan Lake
music she chose came on. My next planned sentence was, “I wouldn’t be satisfied either, and since I don’t think I’m going to make principal dancer . . .” so I was a little lost.

“But I think you really might, CJ,” she said, perching on the edge of the couch. “When I see you dance, it’s like, well, it’s like every dream of mine has come true. You’ve looked especially beautiful this week, so graceful, such a natural. You’ve really got something special.”

So I didn’t tell her. Again.

By ten o’clock, everybody was up and rushing around. Dad had left for his golf game, and Mom was running late as usual for showing a house. “How many times have I shown this house?” she asked Paul.

“I don’t know.” Paul was sitting next to Zoe on the couch, watching cartoons.

“Where are my keys?” she asked me.

I shrugged.

“Oh, and I have to call Aunt Betsy! Where’s the phone?”

Zoe and I looked at each other. Nobody answered Mom.

“How many times . . .” Mom started, dashing into then out of the kitchen. “We have to make a family rule that the phone gets put back on the charger thing when you’re done with it.”

I spotted the phone on top of the microwave. Mom was moving in that direction, getting warmer, warmer . . . “I think I left it upstairs,” I yelled, and jumped up from the chair to dash up the stairs, yelling, “Sorry!”