The Swap (35 page)

“No big deal,” I say with a smile. “I just, you know, I got up early, and—”

“You got up early?” My mom looks surprised. “How are you feeling? Like, with the—”

“I'm fine,” I say quickly, a little bit glad she brought it up and a little bit embarrassed.

“No cramps?” she asks, sitting down at the table.

“Sort of, but—” I sit down too. “I'm tough. I've felt worse.”

My mom just gazes at me across the table. Her eyes are all sparkly.

“Did you do something different with your hair or, like—” She pauses and studies my face for what seems like a long time. “Something's different. I can't put my finger on it.”

I laugh. “I mean, I got my hair cut.”

“No, it's not that. You look gorgeous, but I think you always do. No . . . it's something
inside
,” she says, beaming. “It's coming from your eyes.”

“Whatever,” I say. I'm kind of blushing.

“What. Ever,” says my mom, playfully mimicking me.

“I guess I'm just getting older,” I say with a shrug.

“I guess you are,” my mom tells me, sipping her tea. She sits back, tilts her head, and just looks at me again, smiling her crazy-big smile. I kind of laugh, because it used to really bug me when she did this. I'd get so mad. But this morning I smile softly back at her. I can't get enough.

Look, the last three days have blown my mind. But I'm going to be completely honest: when I step off the bus onto the sidewalk, I get this nervous, fluttery, funny feeling deep in my stomach. And it's not the “girl thing,” if you know what I mean. It's the fact that as I make my way through the hundreds of kids flooding out of the yellow school buses onto the sidewalk, I see straight ahead—past the colorful backpacks, the swarms, the fist bumping, the shouting, the high-pitched excitement. I see, in the distance, standing in front of the bike rack, Sassy Gaines and her pack of identical glossy-haired ladies-in-waiting. I take a deep breath.
I can do this
.

I keep my head up. I keep walking. With my backpack slung around my shoulders and the little voice in my head cheering me on, I mix into the sea of eager faces.
I can do this
. I say it to myself as I walk through the open Thatcher doors.

“Good morning,” calls out Mr. Santos, the vice principal, dressed in his suit and tie. He's standing where he usually stands, greeting us as we arrive. “Make today count!” he says in his booming voice. “Be the change you want to see!”

He always says that. But for once, I think I know what he means.

Before the bell even rings, I see him from a distance.

Buzzed hair.

Black Bruins hoodie.

He's standing at his locker, way down by the front office. I literally stop walking. I just stop. People are shoving me in the crammed-crowded hall, telling me to get out of the way. The pushing doesn't faze me. I hold my ground. I don't shy away from it. The pulsing noise from the hallway just drops away and everything gets fuzzy. Everyone but Jack. My eyes focus like a close-up camera lens zeroing in on the scene.

Ms. Dean.

Porter.

The anxious look on Jack's face.

The three of them walking across the hallway through the door to the main office. I know something's wrong.

And here's the thing. In this moment, when I see him? I am actually way more nervous for Jack than I am for me. And it hits me right there, in this very second, standing in the middle of the buzzing hallway, kids pressing into me, pushing past me—

I know what a real friend is like.

I know how it feels.

Cue the music! Start the applause! Right there, when the bell is about to ring, this light just goes off in my head. Or maybe I should say a light goes
on
. Four words come to mind:
I do not care
. Or is it seven?
I do not care what Sassy thinks!
She doesn't scare me anymore. I don't want her to like me. I don't
need her
to like me. And when I walk through the door into first period and our eyes connect? When she predictably whispers to Aspen, scrunches up her nose, and laughs? I just, like, smile a totally friendly smile back. I sit down. I take out my books. I look up at Ms. González standing by her desk. I don't even really think about it! It's hard to explain, but I'm not even mad at her—

I just don't care.

There is no superpower involved. No magic, no secret. It's really simple. I don't know how to say it except: if you're lucky enough to get a second chance at something? Don't waste it.

On my way to lunch, by my locker, Sammie from soccer runs up and hugs me! I've never hung out with her that much, but I don't know why. She's, like, super nice and really funny.

She stands by my locker and waits for me to fit my bag in.

“Oh my gosh,” she tells me, moving in closer. “Can I tell you something that's a little bit of a TMI?”

I nod.

Sammie takes a big breath. Her eyes are really twinkly, like she has a huge secret. She lowers her voice to an almost whisper. “I just got my period! And I think I might be leaking!”

My mouth falls open. And I hesitate for a moment. I almost don't say it. I almost hold it back, but then, what the heck! It's all about making new friends, right?

“I got it too!” I tell her.

“Shut.
Up!
” says Sammie, grinning. “Oh my gosh, like, my sister told me that when a bunch of girls hang out together, sometimes they all get their period at the same time! Maybe it was, like . . . maybe it was all of us hanging out at Claire's!”

“Maybe.” I laugh.

“OMG! We're synchronized, Elle. We're like sisters!” Sammie says, working to keep her voice down. You can't not smile when you're with Sammie. She's so funny.

“Well?” Sammie scrunches up her nose, sounding a little embarrassed. She leans in and whispers right into my ear. “Will you, like, tell me if I'm leaking?”

“Sure,” I say nervously, giggling.

She spins around, looking back over her shoulder at me as she walks like a supermodel striding down the mostly empty hall.

I watch her.

We both start cracking up.

I run up to her and catch up. We're both laughing hard now.

“You're all good!” I announce.

“Phew! Oh my gosh, I know that's so weird, but, it just feels like—”

“It feels really kind of weird, right?” I finish, giggling.

“
So.
Weird!” says Sammie, threading her arm through mine as we walk together toward the cafeteria, down the long Thatcher hall, past the orange lockers, past two teachers talking.

Sammie looks at me. “The funniest thing is, I was, like, literally
so
excited to, you know, get it!” She pauses thoughtfully. “But seriously, now that I got it? It seems kind of like a major pain in the butt, right?”

“I guess,” I reply with a shy smile. “I mean, it's only been like twelve hours for me.”

“Well, gosh, me too, but in my totally inexperienced opinion? Boys literally have it
so
good! They're
so
lucky! I mean, could you, like, imagine, if they actually had to have blood come out of their body!” Sammie laughs and shakes her head. “It's just so much easier being a boy. You just don't have to worry about a lot of stuff.”

“Yeah,” I say as we continue walking. I almost don't say it, but then I do.

“But, like, guys have other stuff that's kind of hard too.”

“Oh, really?” jokes Sammie, our arms still looped as we move down the hall. “That's what I love about you, Elle! You're always so, like, considerate and thoughtful. You are the best! We definitely need to hang out a lot more!”

“Yeah,” I agree, and grin. “I'd like that.”

“You need to come have a sleepover after soccer! Mackenzie too! We can make brownies and just eat the batter!”

“I'm down,” I say, grinning when I hear myself, because I sound like the boys.

“And,” she goes on, pressing into me as we walk, “we literally need to convince Mackenzie to switch back to Thatcher!”

“Totally!” I agree, remembering what Jack told me: “
Mackenzie and Sammie, they're both awesome
.”

Sammie talks loud as we enter the super-noisy cafeteria. “Hey, you played like a
boss
yesterday at tryouts! Go get it, girl! You totally rocked it!”

“I did?” I ask before I quickly correct myself. “I mean, um, thanks!”

The cafeteria is packed as usual with Thatcher's entire seventh and eighth grades. It's so loud! In the line for food, Sammie and I pick up more friends—Claire (who gives me a gigantic hug), Addi, Annie Hutchinson, and two girls who are in chorus with me, Emma and Hannah. By the time we emerge from the food line and stand looking out at the swarms, trying to find an empty table, we're like a full-fledged parade. We have picked up three more members—Tatum, Hope, and Catherine.

We stand there, holding our plastic trays and looking out at the maze of crowded tables.

“Where should we sit?” asks Claire. Her eyes, like mine, scanning for space.

At this exact second, Aspen appears out of nowhere. My stomach kind of pangs. To be perfectly and completely honest, some familiar not-so-great-feelings flood back. Aspen glares at me, annoyed, then grabs Claire's upper arm. “Claire, oh my gosh,
what
are you doing!” she demands. “We're over
here
.” She gestures across the room. “Come on!”

All of us can't help but look. Our heads all turn like a synchronized dance team.

Diagonally across the cafeteria in the corner, Sassy sits, residing at the head of her “popular” girls table. The queen and her court all have the same blank expression, perfect shiny hair, makeup. Nobody looks very happy.

They are all staring back at us. Watching.

You can feel the tension.

“Um.” Claire stammers at first, then—“I'm fine, thanks,” she tells Aspen, looking at me and smiling as she says it.

“Yeah, we're good,” adds Sammie, with a gutsy, knowing grin.

Then—

“Elle!” I hear my name.

I know the voice. I know it well.

He has to yell over the cafeteria chaos. When he does, it seems like practically the whole entire busy place gets almost quiet. I lift my eyes and follow his voice, all the way across the room by the guidance doors. “Elle!” Jack has his hands cupped up around his mouth. “Elle!” he shouts. He smiles this big smile and madly waves his arm above his head. Owen, Sammy, Demaryius, Trey, Dominic, Brayden. I watch them all stand up, smiling and waving and shouting to me.

“Elle O'Brien!” they all yell at once. “Elle!!!”

I can't hear what they're saying besides my name, but I can tell by the way they're waving what they want me to do. My eyes light up. I catch myself smiling. I give Sammie a nod and a big confident grin and mouth, “Let's go!” and I start walking. I navigate around the web of tables, stepping over backpacks and squeezing between chairs. For a second, the noise dampens. I feel everyone's eyes on me. I look over my shoulder. All the girls are behind me, a train of new friends. When I turn back to where I'm headed, I watch Sammy and Demaryius carrying an empty table, setting it down, pushing it together with theirs. Dominic, Brayden, and Owen lift the extra stack of cafeteria chairs over their heads and set them down, arranging them, connecting the two tables into one.

And then there's Jack. He's looking right at me, watching me as I get closer and closer with this big smile on his face. He's standing behind an empty chair, right next to his.

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

..................................................................

AFTER LUNCH, I AM ALREADY
in my seat in sixth-period social studies when I hear a woman's voice over the loudspeaker make an announcement: “Jack Malloy, please report to the main office.” Then they say it again, with more urgency. “Jack Malloy, please report to the main office immediately.”

My stomach just drops. Getting called out of class in the middle of the day—there's nothing about that scenario that can mean anything good. I stand up and grab my bag, my books. Right away, my heart starts pounding.

Demaryius gives me a nod. “That's you, bro. What's that all about?”

I shrug and say, “I don't know, man.” I try to act like I'm not thinking the things I'm thinking, which is that I'm starting to worry about everybody and everyone. Maybe something happened to my brothers. Maybe my dad's flipped out. Maybe something happened with that crazy nurse and Elle!

My head starts throbbing. I'm sweating, and my thoughts begin to race. By the time I leave social studies and hurry out of the room down the empty hall to the office, I'm feeling lightheaded, dizzy. Hot. I stop right before I reach the guidance counselor's wing, connected to the main office. I pause outside the door, leaning my back up against the lockers. I tell myself to calm down. Everything doesn't have to be bad news, right? I mean, like, maybe it's something good. For a moment I wish Summer was here. I wish she could be the one waiting in the main office. But she's not here, and I am. I take a really deep breath and put my hand on the door knob.