BFF Breakup (7 page)

The three of us started toward the salmon-colored brick two-story, which looked like a slightly larger version of my elementary school but with fifteen times as many kids. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves.

“Are you okay?” Susanna asked, looking at me. “I don't know you very well, but you look a little green.”

“She's fine,” Madeline said. “Just first day jitters, right Brooke?” I nodded, hating to think that this girl knew how nervous I was.

“What? Afraid some big ninth grader is going to flush your head down the toilet?” Susanna asked with a sneer in her voice, like I was acting like some baby. And okay, maybe there was nothing to be nervous about, but wasn't I allowed to be slightly anxious on the first day? Did this person have to mock my every emotion?

“Thanks,” I said, making sure to layer on some extra sarcasm, “but I'm just fine. I
live
for first days.”

As we walked through the metal double doors of the school, I had the feeling that if I didn't grab hold of Madeline's hand, I'd lose her forever in the crowd.

“Well, I think we're off this way,” Madeline said,
nodding at the stairs on the right. “We both have drama first period. You're okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” I said, as someone slammed into my shoulder and kept walking. I felt Susanna's eyes on me, probably thinking what a loser I was.

“So I guess I'll meet you at lunch?” I said. “Where should we meet?”

“Let's meet right outside the caf,” Madeline said.

“Okay. I'll wait for you.”

“See you inside!” Madeline said as she and Susanna walked off.

“And watch out for snakes!” Susanna called, and they both laughed.

My first class of my junior high career was the ever-inspiring Civics & Government. The truth is, I was so tired because I couldn't sleep last night just thinking about the fun I was going to have memorizing the Declaration of Independence and how a bill becomes a law. In your face, drama class!

When I finally found the classroom, I had an intense attack of the butterflies as I stepped into the room and sat at a desk somewhere in the middle.

I didn't recognize anyone, so I pretended to be engrossed in the papers in my notebook, most of which
were blank, except for my schedule. When our teacher, Ms. Ligon, got class started, she said she was going to hand out a syllabus, and then started passing back a sheet of paper to each student. I'd never heard that word before, but it sounded official and scary and hard.

Turned out a syllabus is just a piece of paper that states what we'd be studying and how she planned to grade us. Like, this percentage of our report card grade comes from quizzes, this much from tests, and this much from participation. (Doesn't taking tests count as participating?) Add it all up and you get a hundred.

Disco! The first bell had barely rung and I'd already learned something. Ma and Pa would be so proud.

After class, I dashed for the door, not knowing how long it'd take me to find my locker, drop off my books, and get to my second class, science.

After bumbling down the hallways and making two wrong turns, I finally found my locker. I did a silent cheer when I saw that it was a top.

West Junior High has top and bottom lockers. I think in the old days lockers were just one locker, long enough to hang a trench coat in them. But nowadays, I guess because of overcrowding, those lockers were basically cut in half, so you either got a locker that you could use while standing up like an advanced human being, or one that
you have to crouch down to use. Getting a top meant one thing was going right for me today. I hoped Madeline didn't have a bottom—her skirt seemed awfully short to be kneeling down in. As I worked the combination, which took me about ten minutes, I was nudged from behind, and the person who had the locker below mine appeared.

Chris Meyers, better known as “the dude who did the worm at the end-of-the-year dance” and who I totally and secretly kissed a million years ago, was standing beside me.

“Hey, Brooke!” he yelled, like he hadn't seen me in fifty years but had been hoping to every day since. The halls were loud but he really didn't have to shout. Also, he was wearing a white button-down with a red skinny tie like he was going to a Young Republicans meeting or something. “How's it going? Is this your locker?”

“Nah. I just hacked into it using my stethoscope. Nice tie.”

“Oh, thanks.” he said, sort of patting it like a pet.

He knelt beside me as he did his combination. “How's junior high treatin' ya?” he asked, looking up at me. It gave me an uncomfortable feeling, being looked up at like that. He looked so eager, like he wanted me to pet his head. It was like he was trying too hard. Or maybe it was just the tie that was throwing me.

“School's okay so far,” I said. “I was elected Most
Popular and Most Likely to Succeed this morning. I think I'm going to do well here.”

“Brooke, you kill me.”

I raised one eyebrow and said, “Not yet.”

He shut his locker and stood up. “See you around.”

“Later, Chris,” I said.

“No,” he said, looking at me with his deep, dark blue eyes, the same color as the cobalt vase in Madeline's living room. “I've decided to go by Christopher now that we're in junior high. Chris just sounds so . . . childish.”

“Childish? But your specialty is the worm.”

A flicker of a smile crossed his face. “That's true.”

I mussed his hair, which felt weird and also sort of good, like bold, and said, “Don't take it all too seriously.”

Chris was a dork, but a cool dork, and I don't think he knew how coolishly dorky he looked in that skinny red tie.

My second period science class went by okay. We got another
syllabus
(Ding! Ding! Ding!), and I recognized some girls from elementary, but no one I was really friends with.

Fourth period was Foods for Living, which seemed like a gyp, because it was just before lunch. Still, I kept my hopes up for a year of whipping up delectable entrées and making those drama dorks jealous. At lunch I would share my brownies with Madeline and not with Susanna, no matter how immature it was.

There was a seat open in the back, where one girl sat looking petrified. She must have been putting out a bad vibe because no one sat at the table with her. But I did, and when I got closer, I realized she was the girl from registration. Lily, I think. I sat next to her and said hello. She squeaked and kept her head down. So much for making new friends.

I couldn't wait to hear how Madeline's day was going.

D
RAMA WAS AMAZING. I'M SO GLAD SUSANNA
suggested I take it. Sitting there in the theater, I got this weird feeling that it was where I belonged. Crazy, huh?

It had a really cool mix of people, like quiet kids and then those kids who were convinced they'd be the next Dakota Fanning and had to be the center of attention all the time. I liked that so many different people could be interested in the same thing. An eclectic mix, like Susanna said.

I felt like junior high was clicking into place so perfectly. I even got a top locker, although it was two halls over from Brooke's.

As I walked to lunch to meet her, I ran into Susanna and her friends Natalie and Julia, who I liked right away. (Confession: maybe because they complimented me on my outfit.) We all walked to the caf together. I didn't see Brooke yet, so I got in line with the girls and got food so I could save her a seat when she got there. We chose a table next to a group of rowdy guys, and I thought how easy this whole thing was, walking into the school cafeteria and sitting down for lunch on the first day. Entire movies were made about how horrible this moment could be, but those were totally exaggerated.

“I love how Mr. Trent was all serious about how every person in the theater is crucial, even if you're not onstage,” Julia was saying. “Like anyone will actually be happy if they get stuck doing something backstage? What's the point?”

“Some people take drama because they actually want to do stuff backstage, you know,” Natalie told her.

“Yeah, the ugly people,” Susanna said, and we all laughed.

“Did you notice Mr. Trent's socks?” I asked. “They were lime green with little red hearts on them.”

“Hearts?” Julia asked. “How cute!”

“Or weird,” Susanna said. “Why would a grown man wear heart socks?”

“Because it's fun!” Julia said, scooping up more chili with her plastic spoon.

“I thought they were cute,” I said.

“You would,” Susanna said, and just as I wondered what that was supposed to mean, she smiled and bumped her shoulder into mine, showing me she was just teasing.

“Does anyone have Ms. Winston for math?” Natalie asked. We all said no. “Great. She's like a tyrant. She already gave us homework
and
she called me out in class for staring out the window. Plus, I have to sit beside this weird kid who was wearing a
tie
.”

“I saw him!” Julia said. “Who does he think he is? The principal?”

“I know that kid,” I said, feeling good that I knew him, like I had special information that added to the convo. “Chris Meyers.” I thought of him doing the worm at the end-of-the-year dance, and how Brooke kissed him that one time. She'd thought he was funny but I wasn't so sure. “He's totally weird.”

“Well, obviously,” Susanna said. “Didn't you just hear Natalie say he's wearing a tie to school?”

“Yeah,” I said, “but you don't know how weird.”

I loved being a part of a group. It wasn't until then, at lunch, that I realized how much of my life had been just me and Brooke. I'm not complaining—Brooke was my best friend and I've always love hanging out with her. This was just different. Maybe better, because more people were there and there was a better chance of something really cool happening.

“Who do you have for math?” Natalie asked me.

Before I could answer, a voice behind me said, “Hello? Madeline, what's the deal?”

I turned to see Brooke standing behind me, her face both droopy and angry at the same time. “Hey! Where've you been? We're half done eating already.” It felt horrible to admit, but I'd sort of forgotten about her.

“Waiting for you,” she said.

“I've been waiting for
you
.”

“We said we were going to meet outside the cafeteria,” she said.

“Why would we meet outside?” I asked. I got the feeling that everyone was staring at us—because they actually were—so I said, “Whatever. You're here now. Here, I saved you a seat.” I moved my bag off the chair next to me.

“Hey, look!” Susanna said. “Your hair is dry!”

Brooke scrunched up her face. “Huh?”

“So no one flushed your head down the toilet?”

The other girls snorted. Brooke didn't say anything and I thought about telling her Susanna was just joking, but surely she knew.

“I still have to get my lunch,” she said, ignoring her. She didn't even say anything to Julia or Natalie, just looked toward the lunch line, which was practically empty since most people had eaten.

“I'll go with you.” I didn't want her to be mad at me. Plus, I really wanted her to meet the girls so we could all be friends. I could already picture the sleepovers.

As we walked up to the line, Brooke asked, “Who are all those girls?”

“Susanna and her friends, Julia and Natalie. You'll love them. And too bad you're not in drama with us. It's going to be so fun.”

Brooke picked up a tray and scanned her choices. “Such a bummer.”

“Such. But you'll really like them,” I said. “How's your cooking class?”

“Pardon me, it's not cooking,” she said. “It's Foods for Living.”

“Pardon indeed,” I said, and we smiled. “You do still cook in it though, right?”

“Yeah, but it's also about making healthy food choices and stuff.”

“How very modern,” I said. “So I guess that means it's not totally '50s and you'll be making chicken with a pound of butter.”

“Doubtful, but our teacher—who is a dude, by the way—”

“Modern indeed,” I said.

“Indeed,” she said. “Anyway, he said we'll cook or bake something about once a week, so it can't be all that bad.”

Brooke paid for her lunch and we went back to our table. Julia and Natalie were just finishing up.

“You guys can't be leaving,” I said. I really wanted Brooke to talk to them so she could see how fun they were.

“The bell's going to ring any sec,” Natalie said.

“If we hurry maybe we can go to both our lockers before next class,” I said to Brooke.

“I hate that we don't have them together,” she said.