Friends ForNever (11 page)

“But she's my best friend. She told me so.”

Mary Claire wouldn't take her eyes off Alyssa. I looked over my shoulder and watched Alyssa dry off with her towel. Then she started to walk away, but she stopped when she saw that we were all watching her. Slowly she turned around and went back to the pile of towels lying around on the rocks by the lake edge. She picked up a pink-striped towel, bundled it up, and hurled it into the water, not once taking her eyes off us.

Mary Claire made a little squeak.

“Was that your towel?” I asked.

“That little creep! I'm gonna teach her a lesson!” Nicole spilled out of her tube and lunged for the side of the lake. I was right behind her. Alyssa was about to walk away, looking extremely satisfied with herself. But lucky for her, Libby got to her before Nicole or I did.

Libby held Alyssa by the shoulder. “Excuse me. Can you tell me what just happened here?” she asked. Libby was amazing. She had a way of talking in this really sweet, calm voice. But behind the sweetness there was something else that let you know she meant business.

Nic and I stood beside them, dripping all over the place. Alyssa stared straight ahead, her eyes two little slants. “I was
trying
to throw my friend her towel. I guess I missed.”

“She was mad because she tried to make Mary Claire get her towel for her, Libby,” said Nicole. “When Mary Claire wouldn't do it, Alyssa threw her towel in.”

Alyssa shook her head slowly, still staring straight ahead. “Not true. These Middlers are known liars.”

I could see Libby suck on her lips to keep from smiling. “Well. This is a problem. You say it was an accident—that you were trying to do a nice gesture for a friend. And these
known liars
say you did it intentionally. I tell you what. I think you owe an apology to the girl whose towel got wet—whether it was intentional or not.”

For a second it looked like Alyssa wasn't going to budge. I could see her clamp her jaw shut, and she clutched her own semidry towel to her chest. But after a pause that stretched out for a full minute, she finally looked over her shoulder and bellowed, “Sorry!” at Mary Claire, still floating in the water.

“Okay. Thank you for apologizing. And from now on, remember that it's never a good idea to throw a towel to someone who's still in the water. Wait till she gets out and hand it to her.” Libby released Alyssa, who strutted off in a barely contained cloud of rage.

“Can you known liars get that towel out of the lake for me, please?” Libby asked, pointing to the soggy mass floating on the surface.

“That kid's a known brat!” I said.

Libby smiled at us. “Let's just say Juniors have a lot of growing up to do. And you older girls can help them with that.” She patted my back before she walked away.

Nicole looked at me and shook her head. “Do you realize Libby just saved that brat's life?”

I laughed. “Yeah, I do.” I waded in and pulled out Mary Claire's towel, which now weighed approximately thirty pounds. Mary Claire was busy trying to wrangle all the inner tubes ashore.

“Alyssa's really going to be mad at me now,” she said softly.

I wrung her sopping-wet towel out as best as I could. “Are you kidding me? Aren't you mad at her after what she did?”

“Yeah, but if I'd gotten her towel for her, she wouldn't have done that.”

“Mary Claire! She treats you like her slave! You needed to stand up to her. Aren't there other girls in your cabin you like?” asked Nicole.

“Not as much as I like Alyssa.”

Nicole and I exchanged looks. “Well, think about who else you might hang out with,” I suggested. “Of all the Junior girls, I'm sure you'll be able to find a few new friends.”

Nic tossed her towel (which was actually one of my towels that she had borrowed) to Mary Claire. “Here ya go. I'm practically dry now anyway.”

“Thanks, Nicole! You sure are being nice to me.”

Nic nodded knowingly at me. “You think so? Glad you noticed.”

When we went back to the cabin to change clothes from free swim, hardly anyone was there. Just Natasha, Ashlin, and Whitney over on Side B. Whitney politely said hello to us, like she always did.

I'd been feeling pretty good about myself since we'd helped Mary Claire stand up for herself. And we'd done it without beating up her little tormentor. But as soon as I saw Whitney, it brought me down a couple of notches.

“We really need to say something to Whitney,” I murmured to Nicole as we changed out of our wet swimsuits.

“No! Not without Sarah,” Nic whispered back.

“I think we should,” I insisted. “We've waited too long.” Sarah hadn't talked to Whitney yesterday like she'd promised. Somebody needed to do something.

“Hey, Whitney? Could you come over here for a second?” I called.

Nicole gave me a look that said,
Are you out of your mind?
But I didn't care. Whitney came over to our side of the cabin and stood by Libby's bed, very straight and still, with her hands clasped in front of her. She looked like she was bracing herself for what was next. “Yes?”

“Uh,” I began. How was I going to say this? A speeded-up version of our Whitney-dissing played through my head.
Control freak brags too much dump her.
“You remember the dance on Saturday?” I asked weakly.

Whitney remained perfectly still. “Yes.”

“Uh. Well. When you walked out, Nic and Sarah and I said some stuff.” That was as far as I could go. Nic obviously wasn't going to jump in and take over.

There was a long pause as Whitney waited for me to go on. “Some stuff?” she said finally.

“Yeah. Some really mean stuff. Whitney, we know you heard us. And we all feel really, really,
really
awful. We are so sorry—all of us.”

“Do you feel awful because of what you said or awful because I happened to overhear you?” Whitney asked quietly.

Ouch. The truth was, if she hadn't
happened
to overhear us, then we would've dissed her, laughed about it, and then never given it a second thought.

“We feel awful because of what we said. But we were just being . . .”
cruel, heartless, vicious,
“. . . gossipy, and none of us meant any of it. You know how it is when a bunch of girls get together. One person says something about someone who isn't there and then everyone else starts talking and you're just saying stuff that you never expect will get back to the person, and . . .”

This was not going where I wanted it to go. I looked to Nicole for help, but she just raised her eyebrows at me. I knew what she was thinking—that incredibly annoying people were at constant risk of being ridiculed every time they left a room. She still thought Whitney had brought this all on herself by being so . . . Whitney-ish.

Whitney let out a little impatient sigh. “No, Darcy. I don't know how it is. I make it a practice never to say mean things about other people—ever.”

I slumped over and held my head in my hands. “That's a really good practice. One I'm going to follow from now on. Whitney, we are really, really sorry. We said a lot of terrible things, but we didn't mean any of it. I guess we thought we were being funny, but we weren't. We were just being horrible.”

Whitney nodded, like she was considering everything I'd said. “I'm curious about something. Today's Thursday. And this happened on Saturday. Why has it taken you
five
days to bring this up?” From the way she said “five,” I could tell she'd been counting off every single day that went by without us apologizing to her.

“Well, Nicole can explain that,” I said, spiking the ball to her when she totally wasn't ready for it. But why should I be the one doing all the talking? I wasn't the only one who was there.

My comment hit Nic right between the eyes and woke her up from a daydream. “Oh. Uh. We . . . kept wanting to, but we were pretty embarrassed about the whole thing. We didn't really know what to do.”

I guessed that was an okay explanation. Not the way I would've put it, but at least I'd made her speak.

“Whitney, we are so sorry! Really, we are. Do you forgive us?”

Whitney pressed her lips together. She seemed to be giving it serious thought, like the decision was a tough one that could go either way.

“Yes, I accept your apologies. I still haven't heard from Sarah about this issue.”

“Well, let me tell you—Sarah is absolutely devastated. She feels worse than Nic and me put together.” That didn't really come out sounding right. “She feels absolutely horrible, Whitney! And she's told us what a great friend you are, how sweet and kind you are, and how you'd never treat anyone this way. Which is why she can't even bear to face you. Trust me. This is breaking her heart.”

“That's true. Devastated is a good word to describe Sarah right now,” added Nicole. “Can't you tell?”

Whitney didn't say anything. We looked up when the screen door opened. Sarah was about to walk in when she saw the three of us inside talking. She did a quick U-turn and started out the door.

“Where do you think you're going? Come back here!” I shouted.

Sarah looked over her shoulder at me. “I'm going to the bathroom. Is that okay with you?”

“No, it's not. I want you to come inside so we can settle this.”

Sarah let the door close behind her, and she stood in front of us. No one said a word. Sarah stared at the floor, Whitney looked expectantly at Sarah, and Nic had a strange look on her face—like she was about to burst out laughing.

“Sarah! Say something!” I urged.

Sarah wouldn't look up. “I don't know what to say.”

“How can you not know what to say? Why don't you tell me you're sorry?” Whitney blurted out.

Sarah looked at her. “I
am
sorry! I've never been so sorry in my life. I'm the worst person in the world. You have every right to hate me and never speak to me again.”

“I don't hate you! But why haven't you talked to me for
five
days?”

Sarah covered her face with her hands. “How could I?”

I looked at Nic and nodded toward the door. Nic followed me outside without a word. We were halfway down Middler Line when she finally spoke up. “What got into you?”

I looked at her. “I don't know. Think I should open my own practice?”

Nic burst out laughing.

“You had the weirdest look on your face—like you thought this whole situation was really funny,” I said.

Nic shook her head. “I didn't think it was funny. I just thought it was going to be major drama. Why did you make us leave? I wanted to stay and watch the whole thing.”

“I thought they needed to be alone. This is the first time they've spoken to each other in almost a week,” I said.

We walked down to the dining hall to wait for lunch to begin.

Half an hour later Whitney and Sarah showed up at Cabin 3's table for lunch, along with the rest of us. They both had red eyes and blotchy faces. Whatever had happened between them, it must have been pretty intense.

After lunch ended, the two of them were walking together through the crowd of people leaving the dining hall. It didn't look like they were going to make a point of filling me in on everything, which I didn't think was very fair, considering I'd played a pretty big role in it all. So I rushed up to them.

“Okay, I hate to be rude, but can't you at least tell me what happened?” I asked.

Whitney smiled at me. “We're friends again!”

“Finally!” I turned to Nic, who'd walked up beside me. “They made up.”

“Darcy, you were right. All along, if I had just talked to her, it never would've dragged out for so long. I can't believe I was so stupid,” said Sarah.

“You're not stupid!” Whitney protested. “You were just embarrassed. And you avoided the problem instead of facing it and trying to solve it. It's okay, though. We've worked everything out.”

Sarah held up her hand like she was taking an oath. “I promise to never, ever talk about people behind their backs, especially my best friend—Whitney Louise Carrington!” She threw her arms around Whitney, and they both got all teary again.

“And I'm going to Sarah's bat mitzvah in November,” Whitney announced. “She'll read a whole portion of the Torah out loud. In Hebrew! Isn't that amazing?”

“I am so happy! It's about time you two worked everything out,” I said. “I always knew one way or the other, you'd make up somehow.”

Nic smiled at them. “I'm glad you guys are friends again. But now what will we do for drama? Maybe Natasha and Ashlin will have a big fight.”

“That's a terrible thing to say!” I blurted out. “Do you like seeing people miserable?”

Nicole looked shocked. “It was a joke.”

“Was it?” I asked. After all the fighting we'd had in our cabin, how could she possibly hope someone else would have some major friendship war? There was nothing I hated more than having people around me fighting with each other. I didn't get why she seemed to love drama so much.