If You Only Knew (7 page)

“Right,” said Morgan.

We all stepped into the benches and pulled our sandwiches out. I didn’t really want to show my dirty laundry, but I felt like we were all chipping in for something and I hadn’t paid my share yet. Also, OK, maybe I had to top Morgan.

“My sister Colette got her belly button pierced, and my dad saw it.”

CJ turned toward me. “Did he have a fit?”

“Oh, yeah,” I said. “When I was on the phone with you? That was him, screaming that she better have it out by today, and she’s screaming no way, it’s her body, he can’t make her, and he’s like, oh, yes I can. CJ was on the phone with me the whole time.”

“That’s true,” CJ told Morgan and Olivia, with her green eyes open wide. “I heard the whole thing.”

Olivia opened her pretzel sticks and said, “I agree with your sister. Even though, gross, still, it’s her body.”

“Maybe,” said Morgan, taking a pretzel. “But she doesn’t have to make such a dramatic point of it.”

I shrugged. “That’s what my sister Devin says. I don’t know. But anyway, my family is far from perfect, is the point.”

Just as Tommy and Jonas came over and sat down, CJ said, “You must be so upset.”

“Why?” Tommy asked, shaking his milk. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” said Morgan.

I ducked my head. I didn’t want to get myself in trouble or have anyone think I was on the boys’ side or liked one of them. CJ put her arm protectively around me.

“OK,” said Tommy, shrugging.

Jonas grabbed a few of Olivia’s pretzel sticks and said, “Yum,” as he bit the tops off.

“You could ask,” Morgan snapped.

Jonas stopped chewing. He lowered the bottom halves of the pretzel sticks back into Olivia’s box and mumbled, “Sorry.”

He and Tommy stood up.

“Later,” said Tommy as they walked away.

“Much,” I said.

My friends laughed. I felt bad, but what could I do? Luckily, Tommy wouldn’t be mad at me for that. He doesn’t care.

“Do you think she’ll take it out?” Olivia asked me. “The earring? The belly button ring? Whatever you call it.”

I shook my head slowly.

“Is he really going to check, you think?” Morgan asked.

I nodded. “Tonight. Should be a comedy.”

CJ rubbed my back. “If you need to get away,” she suggested, “just call me. You can come over.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“Or me,” Morgan offered. “Anytime.”

“My house is closest,” Olivia said. “You can ride your bike over if you want.”

I smiled at them. It felt really good, knowing they were behind me. Sometimes it’s easier being with my friends than with my family. They understand me more, don’t just think of me as The Baby. They have time for me.

“You guys are the best,” I said. I was happy I told them, even though my mother would have my head if she knew. Family business stays in the family.

Tommy threw a handful of minimarshmallows at us. We decided to eat them instead of throwing them back.

ten

I
was expecting CJ. I picked up
the phone after Devin yelled it was for me and said, “Hey, CJ!” But it was Morgan.

“Zoe?” she asked.

“Morgan?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Did you think CJ was calling you?”

“No, I . . . never mind. What’s up?” I pushed my hair behind my ears and looked at my reflection in the window. It wasn’t any prettier than the normal way. Maybe a little more sophisticated, though.

“I was just wondering if you got the math homework,” she said. “I forgot to write down the pages.”

“Oh, sure,” I told her. “Hold on.” I ran up and got my assignment pad and read it off to her.

“Did you do it yet?” she asked.

“No,” I said.

“Me, neither.”

We did the homework over the phone together. I love doing homework over the phone; it’s so much less boring that way. About halfway through, Morgan asked, “Do you think we were a little harsh on the boys?”

“I don’t know.” I thought it might be a trick question. There’s something about Morgan I don’t one hundred percent trust. Maybe because she keeps blowing at her hair lately. It makes me nervous. Or maybe because I’m trying to steal her best friend.

“They seemed really upset,” she said.

I put down my pen and turned backward on the couch to look through my reflection out at the tree—my favorite talking-on-the-phone position. “Um,” I said. “Yeah. They did.”

“I think we should end the S.T. What do you think?”

“OK.”

“Their haircuts look sort of cute,” she added. “Don’t you think?”

“I didn’t notice.”

“Oh,” she said.

If you only knew
, I thought.
I spent all day noticing their haircuts
. But I didn’t want anybody to know I’d been thinking about the Levits more than usual. It’s just too weird.

“Anyway,” Morgan whispered. “Did your dad check Colette?”

“He’s not home from the bakery yet,” I told her. “Thursday is his late night. But she still has it in there, she showed me.”

“Are you a wreck?”

“Yeah.” Although I appreciated her support, I really hate talking about stuff nobody should know. What if my mother picked up? I’d be dead. So I asked, “How was gym?” She has gym while I’m in band, eighth period.

“Oh, it stunk. Gymnastics.”

“I hate gymnastics,” I said. “I feel like such a clod.”

“Well, next to CJ, we all do,” said Morgan.

Talking with her about CJ made me a little tense. “Please,” I answered. “She can do a split and rest her head in the middle.”

“I know,” Morgan said. “She learned that in fourth grade.”

“I know,” I said back, not wanting to lose the who-knows-CJ-better competition.

“You’re doing soccer, right?” she asked me.

I was so relieved to be on a normal topic, I said, “Absolutely!”

“I guess I am, too,” she said. “But I don’t really care that much about it because I want to concentrate on softball. Don’t you?”

“I like both,” I said. Morgan didn’t make starter last year in soccer; I knew she felt bad about that, no matter how much she denied it.

“With you pitching, I definitely think we’ve got a shot at regionals this year, in softball, if we focus,” Morgan said. “What did you strike out—seven in that final game last year?”

“I don’t remember, maybe six,” I said. It was eight. I remembered every pitch.

“What a game, huh? That ugly girl I thought was gonna cry.”

“Really?” I asked, feeling happy. “Well, you were great at First.”

“Thanks. I was thinking, though,” Morgan said, quieter. “Just between us. Maybe it’s good that CJ will be too busy with dance this year to play. Because, no offense, I mean she’s my best friend, but she has no arm.”

“I know,” I admitted. I felt a little guilty talking about CJ that way, but Morgan was right. CJ is not great at sports.

We talked softball a little more, and some about soccer, which starts next week, before we finished the homework. When we were done, Morgan thanked me and said, “Don’t say anything to CJ, about what I said.”

“I won’t,” I assured her. “And I definitely think you’ll start in soccer. You’re probably faster, now that you grew.”

“Whatever,” said Morgan. “Maybe you could come over sometime next week and we can have a catch or something.”

“OK,” I said. “That sounds great.” I hung up and called CJ right away.

“Did you hear about the Silent Treatment?” I asked when she picked up.

“What about it?” She recognized my voice.

“Morgan just called for the math homework. We got to talking and she canceled it. She felt really bad, I think. About today. She thinks we maybe overdid it.” I was picturing going over to Morgan’s to play catch. I liked it that she thought I almost made that ugly girl cry. It was great to have had such a normal conversation. I felt like regular old Zoe again for the first time since Labor Day.

CJ asked, “She called you for the math homework?”

“Yeah,” I said. I was pacing around the living room, mentally replaying last year’s final game.

“I can’t believe her,” CJ said.

“You mean that she’d call me of all people for the math homework?” I asked. “Thanks a lot.”

“No,” CJ protested. “Not that—”

“I think she regretted the Silent Treatment thing,” I interrupted, not needing her to apologize. I knew really she was probably upset that Morgan hadn’t called her, since they’re best friends. Sometimes I misunderstand on purpose.

“No,” CJ said again. “I mean, she did the math homework over the phone with me an hour ago.”

The game clicked off in my head. I stopped pacing. “You’re kidding.”

“I’m totally, totally serious,” CJ answered.

“That’s too weird.” I kneeled backward on the couch to sort this out but I got distracted by the swing. Nobody has used it in a really long time. Tommy and Jonas and I used to have contests of who could jump farthest off it. I guess we’re all too old for that, now. That’s what I was thinking about instead of Morgan.

“She’s probably on with Olivia right now, doing the math again,” CJ said. “I can’t believe her.”

“Actually, I bet she called Olivia first, to get the right answers.” I laughed. “At least now I don’t feel so stupid!”

“You know what we should do?” CJ asked.

“What?” I asked.

Colette came down and stood in front of me with her hands on her hips. “I need the phone.”

“We should call her,” CJ interrupted.

“Who? Olivia?” I asked.

“No. Morgan,” CJ said. “I have three-way calling.”

“I have to tell Matt something,” Colette insisted.

“In a minute,” I said to Colette. She shook her head but went away. “What’s three-way calling?” I asked CJ.

“You can be on the line secretly while I call Morgan back to ask if she’s spoken to you, and see if she lies, and catch her.”

I said, “OK.” Don’t be nervous, I told myself—it’s just a prank. I’m not the one about to be caught. Why should I worry?

As CJ dialed, I listened to Anne Marie drilling Bay on SAT vocabulary words in the dining room. They were cracking up because Devin had just come in and given a disgusting definition of the word
pulchritude
. When it’s time for me to take the SATs, nobody will live here anymore but my parents.

On the second ring, CJ told me to stop breathing so loud. I flipped the mouthpiece over my head and covered it with my hand.

They chatted for a minute before CJ asked Morgan if she had spoken to me tonight. I held my breath.

“No,” Morgan said. “Why?”

“Just wondering,” said CJ.

Gotcha
, I thought. Like the FBI was about to burst into her kitchen and arrest her for it. Devin shuffled past me to the den and said, “Your pulchritude is showing.” I put my finger to my lips and yanked my shorts a little lower in case pulchritude meant fat thighs.

“I feel so bad for Zoe,” Morgan was telling CJ, meanwhile.

Oh, dread. I settled into the couch to hear why.

“For Zoe?” CJ asked.

“Yeah,” Morgan said. “She is such a nice girl. Everybody loves her. But it’s like, all she ever wants to talk about is sports.”

“Ummm,” said CJ.

I stopped myself from pointing out that she’s the one who brought up softball, not me. I thought she wanted to talk about it.

“I guess mostly I just feel bad about the boy-thing,” Morgan said. “You know, like we were saying last night.”

I bit on my cheeks and kept the talk-part of the phone covered above my head. My heart was pounding really fast.
What were you saying last night, CJ?

“Morgan . . .” CJ’s voice sounded a little shaky.

“You know, about the boys not liking her in that way.”

“I didn’t say that.” CJ didn’t sound so sure. “I don’t know who the boys like.”

“Come on,” said Morgan. “You know who they
don’t
like.”

I swallowed and sank deeper into the couch.

So boys don’t like me in that way. No big deal. Tommy and I will always be just friends. Obviously. I know who the boys
don’t
like. It’s not like I’ve never realized.

“Ummm,” said CJ. “I gotta go.”

“Don’t say anything to Zoe,” Morgan said before she hung up. I slipped onto the floor and thought,
Oh, yeah, CJ? Well, you have no arm! Don’t think I’m the only one people talk about behind her back! You should hear what we were saying about you!

“I didn’t say that,” CJ said as soon as she cleared off the second line.

“Hey, it’s the truth,” I admitted.

“It is not!” CJ said.

“I know I’m not pretty. No need to alert the media.” I tried to laugh but it came out like pathetic gasps for air instead.

“Well, if the boys only like girls who are so pretty, then, forget it—that’s just, stupid, stupid, stupid.”

She didn’t say,
Oh, no, Zoe—you are pretty, really pretty
. Not that I expected her to. “Stupid,” I mumbled.

“And Morgan is a . . . I can’t even trust her. I can’t believe she used to be my best friend.”

“Used to be?”

Dad’s headlights lit up the window as his car pulled into the driveway.

“We’re just very different,” CJ said. “Morgan doesn’t understand about, you know, anything, I told you, before. And now I can’t even, I mean, like,
you
would never talk about somebody behind her back. Right?”

“Well . . . I gotta go,” I whispered. “My dad’s on his way in.”

“Call if you need me,” CJ said. “Really.”

I tried to say thanks but nothing came out.

eleven

“Z
oe!” Colette yelled. “Are you
off? I really need to call—”

She stopped on the second to bottom step, her hands on her hips, because Daddy was in front of her. Elvis sat down on Daddy’s work boot.

“Well,” Daddy said.

Anne Marie and Bay stopped drilling vocabulary.

“Well,” Colette answered.

“Is it gone?”

Colette said nothing. Devin snuck out of the den and sat next to me on the floor against the couch in the living room. “It’s not,” Devin whispered to me.

“I know,” I whispered back. “Shh.”

I could see Mom’s feet come down to the landing. “Arnie,” she said.