Max said, “I keep telling you, Solano, you’re not fat.”
Lydia interrupted. “Does anybody care what Ashley did to me today?”
“Hey, Lydia,” I said, passing her the bag. “Are you ever going to tell us what Ashley did to you today?”
She snatched the bag from me, sneering. Picking out the curliest pork rind off the top, she said, “You wouldn’t believe it
if I told you.”
“Try us,” Max said.
Lydia snapped off an end, chewed, and swallowed. She held out her hand to Max. Max passed her the liter bottle of Pepsi One
we were sharing. Lydia wiped the rim with her finger.
“We don’t have all day,” I said.
Lydia blinked at me, then took her sweet time slugging down half the bottle. If I wasn’t such a benevolent leader…
Lydia gave the bottle back to Max, who passed it on to Prairie. “We were in domestic sciences,” Lydia began.
“I’m taking that,” Max broke in. “That will be sooo fun.”
We all stared at her. The moment of shock passed.
Lydia went on, “I was asking Ms. Ramos about the unit on personal appearance and hygiene because I heard from some seventh
graders that we got to have our colors done.”
“Our what?” My nose wrinkled.
“Our colors. You know, learning what makeup and clothes go best with our skin type and personality.”
“I’m signing up tomorrow,” Max said.
I couldn’t tell if she was joking or not. The only colors she ever wore were camouflage and black.
“Anyway,” Lydia said as she wound her hair behind her ears, “before Ms. Ramos could answer me, Ashley yells out from the back,
‘We already know your colors, Lydia. Black and blue.’ ”
“Oh, brother,” Prairie muttered.
“I know,” Lydia said. “Even though it wasn’t funny, everyone laughed. Especially the seventh-grade attendants who were showing
us around. Then Ashley said, ‘Hear that siren? I think it’s the fashion police. They’re coming for you, Lydia.’ Which made
everyone laugh louder.”
I shook my head sympathetically. Even though Lydia did wear some strange getups, like pink flowered shirts with green plaid
shorts, that kind of public humiliation was uncalled for. Even from Ashley.
“Krupps is a cow,” Max said.
“Thank you, Max,” Lydia replied. She took the bag of pork rinds from Prairie as it made its return trip. “She’s still wearing
that purse like it’s a vital organ.”
“I was thinking more like a tumor,” I said. “A tumor on the world, which is what she is.”
“Thank you, Jenny.” Lydia handed off the bag to me. “Whatever she’s got crammed in there has got to be illegal.”
“It’s got to be the stolen money, or what’s left of it,” I said.
Nobody answered. The only sound was crunching pork rinds.
“It’s probably a carton of Camel cigarettes. Isn’t that her brand, Max?” Lydia said.
“How would I know?” If Max could blush, she would have.
“Hey, Max,” I said. “Why don’t you just casually walk by tomorrow and rip Ashley’s purse off her arm. Too bad if her arm comes
with it.”
Max’s eyes lit up. Everyone hyena howled.
“I think we j-just need to figure out a way to get Mrs. Jonas’s money back.” Prairie looked at me.
“Don’t look at me,” I said. “The only thing of value I own are my earrings and this gold necklace from Kevin. You’d have to
kill me to get them.”
“How do you want it?” Max asked. “Awake or asleep?” She grinned evilly.
“Ha, ha.” I sneered at her, but decided I’d leave the light on tonight.
Lydia said, “I still think the extra money Ms. Milner got should go to Mrs. Jonas.”
“I don’t,” Prairie said. “People gave that m-money back for the starving orphans of India. It wouldn’t be right to give it
to Mrs. Jonas.” She turned to me. “Can’t you think of anything, Jenny?”
I frowned at her. “No.” Geez, being leader didn’t mean I had all the answers.
“Let’s play some music,” I said, to change the subject. “Go get your CD player, Max.”
“Can’t,” Max said.
“Why not?” Lydia asked.
Max slurped the last sip of Pepsi and crushed the bottle under her foot. “Hocked it,” she said.
Prairie gasped. “You sold your new CD player? Why?”
Max shrugged. “Needed the cash.”
Lydia asked, “How much did you get?”
“With all my CDs included, almost a hundred bucks.”
“So,” I ventured cautiously, “what did you do with the money?”
Slowly Max turned to me. “One guess.”
I gulped. “Starving orphans?”
She didn’t say yes and she didn’t say no. The one question I really wanted to ask, I couldn’t. All I could do was stare at
her shoes.
After that we sort of ran out of things to talk about. Next to me, Lydia sulked on the sofa. I think she was still steaming
over Ashley. Prairie kept looking at me, not saying anything. I think she wanted to discuss our upcoming date and couldn’t
in Lydia’s presence. Across from me, Max lounged back in her beanbag chair, eyeing my necklace and earrings. It made me nervous,
so I got up and said, “Well, I better get going. I have gobs of homework.” Right. On orientation day? The obvious lie only
intensified the silence.
“Plus,” I added feebly, “I need a sugar fix and these pork rinds just don’t hack it.”
Everyone exhaled and got up to leave.
“Wait, guys, before you go.” I blocked the door. “I want to ask you a question.”
All eyes focused on me.
I took a deep breath. “Say someone you knew, a friend, did something bad, for whatever reason. Would you ask them about it?
Just to know why? Because you’d probably understand if you knew why. You’d forgive them because they were your friend.”
They all stared at me, vacant-like.
Finally Prairie said, “I hope I w-wouldn’t have to ask.”
I looked at Max. She nodded, but didn’t volunteer a confession.
Prairie added, “I’d hope this person would trust us enough to tell us the truth.”
Again, my eyes honed in on Max. Nothing.
Lydia was playing deaf-mute, too. I think she was so convinced of Ashley’s guilt, she was blind to other possibilities.
The silence grew again until it became staggering. I hated it; this air of mistrust that hung between us. At last, Max spoke.
“You never really know a person, do you?” she said. Her eyes bore into mine.
“No,” I said back. “I guess not.”
F
riday morning I woke up with a swarm of bees in my stomach. It was the weirdest sensation. Not queasy, the way you get before
some dreaded event. This felt more like anticipation, thrill, eagerness. And not because today was the last day of school.
Today had to fly so tomorrow would come. Tomorrow night, to be exact, when my first summer romance would begin.
The framed plaque Dad had hung over the toilet about a hundred years ago captured my attention while I brushed my teeth. It
read,
Today is the first day of the rest of your life
. What do you know? I thought. It’s true.
Prairie, Lydia, and Max were all waiting for me when my bus screeched to the curb. First thing Lydia said was, “Thank God
this year is over. It’s been the worst year of my life.” She pushed her glasses up her nose and blinked. “Except for the Snob
Squad,” she added.
Our eyes all met and we smiled. Automatically we gave the Snob Squad salute.
As if summoned, Ashley and Melanie strutted by on their way to the temp. Ashley said, “Hey, the fashion police must’ve released
her on bail.”
Melanie added, “In that outfit, I’d bail, too.”
Ashley screamed with laughter.
Max stepped out and threatened them with a fist. They scurried inside. “I hate her,” Lydia said. “What’s wrong with this outfit?
My mom just bought it.”
I didn’t say what I was thinking. Mothers should never pick out clothes.
“You look fine,” Prairie said. “She’s just j-jealous.”
Lydia scoffed. “What do I have that she doesn’t have?”
I counted on my fingers, “A brain, personality, intelligence, friends.”
Lydia didn’t hyena howl, the way I expected. She looked like she was going to cry. Quickly I added, “And a future in show
business.”
“Yeah, right.” She shook her head. “Who am I kidding?”
Along with Lydia’s anger management class, add building self-esteem. Maybe we could all use that class.
Kevin sprinted over from his basketball game. Panting, he said, “I’ll come by around six-thirty tomorrow night. Okay?” He
positioned himself in front of me and started walking backward.
“Make it six forty-five,” I said. Barely enough time to say hi and bye. I didn’t want my mother to get her claws into Kevin,
or Dad to start discussing the pros and cons of bleaching boxer shorts.
“Sounds good.” Kevin smiled. “See ya, Jen.” He dribbled off. My bees had babies.
“Hugh and I’ll just meet you there,” Prairie said.
“What time’s this orgy start?” Max asked. “Maybe me and Lyd’ll crash the party.” She grinned at me and elbowed Lydia.
“Forget it,” Lydia said. “I have better things to do with my time.”
“Like what?” Max asked. “Clip your nose hairs?”
Lydia glared at her. Without a word, she stomped off.
“Good job, Max,” I said.
“Hey, I’m sorry.” Max shot me a dirty look. She called to Lydia, “Leave ’em long if you want.”
Lydia wrenched open the trailer door and stormed inside.
“What’s with her lately?” I asked. “Permanent PMS?”
Prairie shook her head. I guess she’d noticed, too. Lydia was so testy lately. Something was bugging her. Or some
one
.
And it didn’t take a brainiac to figure out who. Right after roll, Mrs. Jonas said, “We’re going to see a movie this morning.
But first I want all of you to clean out your desks. Up on the book rack are folders of papers for you to take home. Whatever’s
in your desk that never went home can also go in the folder. The projects I want to keep for the PTA are up here behind my
desk.”
Lydia’s diorama wasn’t among them. I saw her spine go rigid and knew this was not going to improve her mood one bit. Of course,
it was partly her fault since she never bothered to put the diorama back together after hurling it across the room. Ashley
had just sort of thrown stuff in there. On the report cover was the A minus Mrs. Jonas had given Lydia on the project, which
I thought was pretty generous, considering. Luckily, Lydia didn’t ask me what I thought.
Mrs. Jonas went on, “There are plenty of trash bags and Comet and sponges in the back. This temp room needs to be spotless.
We’re starting summer school classes in here on Monday. And please, people, let’s keep the noise level to a low roar.”
The room exploded in activity. I saw Ashley get up with her purse and head to the restroom, which wasn’t unusual. She spent
half her life in there. On the way, though, she bumped into Lydia’s desk and sent her backpack flying. All of Lydia’s trashy
romance novels tumbled out. “Oops.” Ashley pressed a fat finger to her mouth like it was an accident.
Before Lydia could gather them in, Melanie picked up a paperback and gasped. She handed it to Ashley. A smile spread across
Ashley’s face. “Mrs. Jonas,” Ashley said as she pivoted, “Lydia brought pornography to school.”
In a flash Lydia yanked Ashley’s purse off her shoulder and raced down the aisle. Ashley screamed, “Give it back!” and chased
Lydia. Max hollered, “Over here, Lyd!” Lydia tossed the purse into Max’s outstretched arms. Crashing through desks like a
raging elephant, Ashley groped for the purse. Max threw it back to Lydia. It all happened so fast, no one had time to react.
Mrs. Jonas might’ve said, “Cut it out,” but who was listening? This was too funny.
Max and Lydia continued their game of keep away to the front of the room with Ashley wailing and flailing behind. I didn’t
see who opened the purse, but suddenly its contents were scattering all over the floor. Items began bouncing around: lip gloss,
eyeliner, hair clips, keys, her wallet, a package of Kools. But that wasn’t the interesting stuff. A can rolled down the aisle
and clunked into my desk leg. Even before I picked it up, I knew what it was. One whole cupboard at home used to be filled
with cans of it. Slim-Fast.
Ashley actually body slammed Lydia, who retaliated with kicks and slaps. I heard Mrs. Jonas yell, “Stop it, you two!” But
like a volcanic eruption, it was too late to stop what had been building between them all year.
Lydia grabbed the purse from Max and spun away. As she turned back, she said, “What have we here?” She held up a little velvet
box. The light reflected off something shiny inside. “Gold earrings. Fourteen-
karat
gold,” Lydia exclaimed. “I wonder how much
those
cost.”
Snatching her purse back, Ashley wheezed, “Those aren’t mine.”
“Prove it.” Lydia smiled.
Ashley charged Lydia again. Just in time, Mrs. Jonas stepped between them. She snapped, “Lydia, give those back. And both
of you sit down. Now!”
Ashley whirled to face us. Her eyes looked panicked as they scanned the room, wild and helpless. I knew then it wasn’t the
earrings that had drained all the blood from her face. The cigarettes either. It was the cans of Slim-Fast people were picking
up from under their desks. Those and the boxes of Dexatrim.
Ashley could hardly breathe as she scrambled around the room, collecting everything and shoving it back into her purse. Everyone
was laughing—the boys, especially.
My heart ached for Ashley. I got up and went over to help, but when I handed her a can of Slim-Fast and said, “Chocolate Royale’s
my favorite flavor, too,” she yanked it away from me so hard, her ragged fingernails drew blood. Ashley’s eyes met mine. Hers
welled with tears. “Ashley—”
“Shut up!” she screamed. “I hate you.” To the room, she screeched, “I hate all of you!” Then she hugged her overflowing purse
and charged out of the room, leaving the door flapping in her wake.
Melanie hurried past me.
“Mel—” I began.
The hatred radiating from her halted me midsentence. She flew by, trailing Ashley out. Behind me Max muttered, “Busted.”
No kidding. No doubt Ashley would run straight to her father and report Lydia. Report all of us. We might not be back for
seventh grade.