“Could Devyn help?” Noelle asked. But Tobyn shook her head. “She’s always on me about how I need to be the ‘good one’ for Mom. She’d never go for helping me with something like this.”
“I could probably get us fake IDs,” Lux said. But Noelle frowned. “Nah. If we got caught with that, you could get into real trouble,” she said. “I don’t think it’s worth it.”
They tossed around a few other ideas for how they might pull it off, but none of them seemed all that great.
“Should we even risk it?” That was the only question Tobyn had. “Because this is a little more dangerous than our other pranks. And what if the paint accidentally got on something other than the plastic? That’s vandalism.” Noelle looked at Lux and Micah.
Lux nodded without hesitation. “It’s too good not to,” she said. Micah agreed and added, “I’m nervous, but it’s kinda brilliant. You scared, T?”
Tobyn rolled her eyes. “Of course I’m not scared. I’m going to be singing and traveling the world next year. I just don’t want any of you to get caught. It’s senior year. I don’t want this to like, affect your college stuff, you know?”
Noelle had been thinking about college more and more lately, and the Manhattan School of Music was where she wanted to go. It scared her to think about leaving everything and everyone she knew behind, so she decided she wasn’t going to. She hoped wherever Tobyn landed wouldn’t be too far away, but she knew her friend would follow music wherever it took her.
“Colleges won’t give a crap about a dumb prank. Plus, everyone in America does a prank their senior year. It’s like, a rite of passage,” Noelle promised.
“True,” Tobyn allowed. “But what if this one prank makes Principal Powell realize that we did all the other ones, too?”
“I don’t think he’s smart enough to put all that together. Plus, our pranks are harmless. And as long as we’re careful, this one will be, too.”
They talked about other things for a while before Tobyn told Micah and Lux the story about Ava. She didn’t mention the part about Ava not loving her anymore, and Noelle wondered why. Noelle stayed out of it, though, and pretended to text someone, even though pretty much everyone she ever messaged was right here on the roof.
“I just don’t know what to do about her,” Tobyn said. Lux told her to trust her gut. “The only person who knows how she makes you feel is you.”
Micah told her to wait. “Just wait and see. You change your mind like every other day, Tobes. Just give it a minute.”
Noelle was still looking at her phone, but she could feel Tobyn’s eyes on her for the first time all evening.
“Noelle told me to dump her,” Tobyn said, and Lux laughed. Noelle looked up, pushed her glasses farther back on her nose, and shrugged.
“Do whatever you want, T,” Noelle said. She didn’t mean it to sound like she didn’t care, but that’s the way it came out. She couldn’t take it back.
Tobyn looked at Noelle, then asked her another question about the prank and college and the possibility of it all ending in disaster. Noelle let out an annoyed sigh.
“Ugh. If you’re so worried, we can do it without you.”
Tobyn screwed up her face and pressed her lips together so tightly that Noelle thought she might cry.
“I’m just trying to look out for you,” Tobyn said, and her voice sounded heavy, like she didn’t think Noelle would do the same for her.
“I don’t need you to,” Noelle replied.
“Jesus, Ellie. I’m just asking—”
“Stop calling me that.”
“Guys, don’t fight,” Micah pleaded.
Lux looked confused and said, “Yeah. What is with you two today?”
“Nothing,” both Noelle and Tobyn said.
“I gotta go anyway,” Noelle added. “I’ll see you guys later.”
Back at home, Noelle grabbed the mail from the mailbox before heading up to the apartment. There were a few bills, one with red lettering that looked like they’d missed a payment, and a letter her grandmother had sent her from Martinique. She and her Granna Esther had been something like pen pals for as long as Noelle could remember, and over time, Noelle found she could write down more true things than she could ever say out loud. Don’t tell Mama, she’d written to Granna Esther so many times, before telling her grandmother secrets no one else knew. Noelle lifted the letter to her nose and sniffed. It smelled like the rosewater soap Granna Esther always used. She couldn’t smell roses without thinking about her grandmother’s soft, dark skin.
Noelle hadn’t been back to Martinique since middle school, but she remembered everything about it: the tall palm trees and turquoise water, the way the air felt like a solid thing because it was so humid. There were green mountains and colorful houses and these small, spotted lizards that were everywhere the way squirrels were in New York. She missed the island and her family there. Especially Granna Esther.
The last time Noelle visited Martinique, she was helping Granna Esther clean fish on her front porch. Noelle told her grandmother about all of her twelve-year-old drama. It just slipped out that she and her best friend had accidentally broken her mother’s locket, then figured out, all on their own, how to fix it.
Noelle knew Mama would have scolded her and then demanded to know what had happened. But Granna just listened and told her she was “very clever.” Noelle knew Granna believed in her—she believed that Noelle was good and smart and kind, even though there were lots of moments when she wasn’t. And there was something about the faith Granna always had in her, even then, that made Noelle know she could be trusted.
Now, Noelle sat down in the kitchen and read Granna Esther’s letter. Her grandmother talked about her aunt, Tantie Oceane, and how sick she was. She wrote that the rains came to the island because it was hurricane season, and that she had a leaking roof. She wrote about a book she was reading and said that she hoped it wouldn’t end. I miss you, Little One, her grandmother had written. How are your friends? And school? It’s your last year and I can’t believe it. Tell me everything.
Noelle pulled out a notebook from her nightstand drawer and started writing out her response.
* * *
October 14
Bonjou Granna Esther,
I miss you, too. I’m sad summer is over, but school is okay so far. Teachers haven’t been too annoying yet, but my orchestra teacher is stressing me out a little. She’s worried I’m not taking first chair seriously, but I swear I am! There’s a fall showcase coming up next month and I’m going to play a song I composed, the one I told you about? Maybe we can find time for a video call so I can play it for you.
Mama and Dad can’t come to the showcase and I’m pretty annoyed about it. Like, I know they have to work but sometimes I wish they cared about my music the way you do.
Tell Tantie Oceane that I hope she feels better soon. I’m going to include my (other) grandma’s recipe for tomato egg drop soup. Năinai always makes it for me when I’m sick.
I’m worried about Pierre. He’s still fighting with kids at school and I’m afraid he’s going to get kicked out or worse. Mama and Dad just get pissed and yell at him. Maybe you can call him? He might listen to you.
There’s something else I wanted to tell you, Granna, but I’ve been kinda scared. It’s a secret, so you can’t tell Mama.
I have a crush on someone . . . a girl. And no one knows this, but that’s why Travis and I broke up. The girl is my friend Tobyn; remember me telling you about her? She’s beautiful and kind and she can sing. But since she’s my friend, I don’t want to ruin everything by telling her the truth. At the same time, I’m worried if I don’t tell her I’ll ruin everything anyway. We’ve already been fighting a lot.
What do you think I should do?
* * *
As she finished the letter and tucked it into an envelope, Noelle he
ard someone enter the apartment. It sounded like they were crying.
She put the envelope on the kitchen table and looked down the hall. She saw Pierre there, dropping his backpack on the floor, rubbing at his face with his sleeve. His shirt was torn and his eye looked like it might be swelling.
“Pierre, what the hell happ—”
“I’m fine,” he said immediately. He went into their room and slammed the door shut.
* * *
The next day Noelle skipped last period.
She didn’t know much about what was going on with Pierre but after yesterday it occurred to her that the fights he got into might be happening on his way home from school. When he showed up at the apartment with scratches and bruises, refusing to tell anyone what had happened, the injuries were always fresh. Noelle wanted to test her theory.
But on her way out of a back exit, she bumped right into Tobyn.
“Oh hey,” Tobyn said. “Why aren’t you in class?”
Noelle didn’t want to tell her. But trying to come up with a lie might take longer than just telling the truth. And she needed to get out of there quickly. She whispered, “I’m skipping.”
“Oh,” Tobyn said. She stepped closer to Noelle and lowered her voice. “Well look, I don’t really know what’s going on with us, but can we squash it? I . . . miss you.”
She and Noelle had been in their non-fight for almost a week, and though Noelle wouldn’t admit it out loud, she missed Tobyn, too.
Noelle shrugged, not wanting to give in so easily. But when Tobyn looked hurt, something inside Noelle caved. She hated when Tobyn felt sad, and she hated it more when it was her fault. She couldn’t seem to stop hurting her feelings, even by accident, but right now, Noelle knew she could fix things.
So she sighed and said, “Don’t look so upset. We’re cool.”
“Are you sure?” Tobyn said.
Noelle nodded.
Tobyn hugged her and said, “Great. I need to get out of here, too. Forgot to do Ms. Garrett’s homework. Mind if I come with you?”
Noelle usually had no trouble holding grudges, but lately, it was nearly impossible for her to stay mad at Tobyn.
“Fine. We have to pick up my brother first, though,” Noelle told her.
“Oh yay!” Tobyn replied. “It’s been too long since I’ve seen Lil P.”
They walked the dozen or so blocks between Savage School of the Arts and Langston Hughes Middle School in relative quiet. Noelle felt nervous and was even more aware of her feelings than usual with Tobyn so close.
They got to Pierre’s school right before the last bell. As the kids poured out of the wide double doors, Noelle looked for Pierre’s brown skin and wild, dark hair in the crowd. She found him, spotted his green, spiky backpack, and looped her finger through his shoulder strap before he saw her.
“Hey, Big Head,” she said. She threw her arm over his shoulder. He smiled up at her.
“What are you guys doing here?” he asked. He gave Tobyn a high five.
“What’s going on, lil man?” Tobyn said.
“Nothing,” he answered. His eyes looked bright.
“Good day?” Noelle asked.
“It was okay.”
Noelle didn’t answer Pierre’s question about why they’d come. Instead, she said, “Wanna get a doughnut?”
“Sure!” Pierre said. He bounced ahead of them and started talking about his day. His seventh-grade adventures were cute. When Tobyn looped her arm through Noelle’s, she tried to focus on what her brother was saying instead of how warm her face felt whenever Tobyn touched her.
They were almost at the doughnut shop when Noelle noticed that Pierre’s bouncy walk had slowed, and he kept looking behind them. Noelle followed his gaze and her eyes landed on two boys who looked like they were older than Pierre, but younger than her. She stared at them.
“Who are those guys?” she asked Pierre.
“No one,” Pierre said. Tobyn looked back at them, too.
“P,” Noelle said again. “Look at me. Are they the punks who’ve been beating you up?”
She heard her mistake as soon as it passed her lips.
Pierre’s whole body went stiff. His eyes got mean. “They don’t ‘beat me up.’ We fight. Because they say dumb things to me until I have to hit them.”
“What do they say to you?” Tobyn asked. She eyed the boys again, and Noelle thought Tobyn looked as mad as she felt.
“Dumb stuff. Ever since I had that panic attack at school.”
Oh. Noelle thought, and she could imagine what they’d said. They probably called him a freak or a spaz. They might imitate the way his breath would have come too quickly or the way he’d covered his ears and cried.
“Little jerks,” Tobyn said.
Noelle rounded on the boys. She wanted to murder them.
“Noey, don’t,” Pierre said.
“Why not?” Noelle asked. But Pierre held her arm tight and the boys laughed at her. Then Tobyn said to one of them, “Hey, I know your brother. Which means, I know where you live. I have no problem coming to your apartment and telling your mother that I saw you out here being a little shithead.” The boys stopped laughing. “She really know your brother?” one asked the other. He shrugged. They looked at each other, looked at Pierre with what Noelle thought might be a threat in their eyes, and then they ran away.
Pierre said, “Do you really know his brother?”
“Nah,” Tobyn said. “I took a chance that he even had one.”
Pierre cracked up, but Noelle still looked pissed.
At the doughnut shop, Tobyn asked Pierre what flavor he wanted, and got a lemon poppyseed one for herself. “Noelle,” Tobyn said, “you want Boston crème?”
Noelle’s nostrils flared.
“Pierre, do those boys follow you home every day?”
Her brother had already bitten into his doughnut. “Not every day,” he said around the food in his mouth. “But sometimes, yeah.”
“Are they who you’ve been fighting with the last couple of weeks?”
“Do we have to talk about this?” he said. “I just want to enjoy this doughnut in peace. Want a bite?”
“No,” Noelle said. Pierre rolled his eyes, and Noelle said, “You better cut that out right now.”
“You’re not my mother,” Pierre said. Before Noelle could say anything else, Tobyn cut in.
“Hey,” she said to Pierre. “We’ll be right back.” Tobyn took Noelle’s elbow and steered her outside.
Once the door shut behind them, Tobyn frowned at Noelle.
“Don’t be a dick to Pierre just because you’re mad,” Tobyn said. Noelle crossed her arms and rolled her eyes.
“I’m not,” Noelle insisted.
“You are. You always do this, Ellie.” Tobyn looked a little embarrassed, and Noelle remembered telling her not to call her by that nickname. “I mean, Noelle. You did the same thing to me last week, even though I still don’t know what you were so mad about.” Tobyn nibbled on her lip and Noelle knew Tobyn only did that when she was hurt and trying to hide it.
Noelle couldn’t help but remember, in that moment, how Tobyn had looked on the first day of eighth grade. Just like Lux had been the new girl last year, Tobyn had been new back then. But Tobyn hadn’t been nervous at all. She was just ready to be friends with everyone.
Micah wanted to talk to her, but Noelle felt hesitant. Noelle reminded Micah that thirteen-year-old girls could be ruthless. The two of them had become friends when Noelle saved Micah from a bully the year before. “But Tobyn’s nice,” Micah insisted. “I talked to her this morning.”
“That’s why I’m worried,” Noelle said. Tobyn seemed a little too nice. Noelle didn’t trust her, so she did what she’d always done to test loyalty: She whispered a few harsh words to Tobyn about another girl in their grade. If Tobyn
would gossip about someone she didn’t know, that would show she wasn’t as sweet as everyone thought. But Tobyn didn’t smile, and she didn’t join in. She said, “What’d that girl ever do to you?” Noelle was pleasantly surprised that Tobyn stood up to her instead of laughing.
Tobyn’s niceness was actually kindness, and it was then that Noelle learned the difference. And lately it was that kindness that made Noelle want to be close to Tobyn in a way she never had wanted to be before.
Noelle could tell Tobyn why she’d gotten so mad at her the other day now. She could tell her about Travis and reveal the truth about everything. But Tobyn was too soft, too sweet to love her—a girl with so many sharp edges.
“You’re right,” Noelle said. “I’m sorry.” Tobyn nodded, but something still felt off between them.
“Okay. Call me later?”
Noelle uncrossed her arms. “Okay,” she said.
“I got you the Boston crème anyway,” Tobyn said, handing Noelle the paper bag she was holding. Then she walked away.
As soon as they walked into the apartment, Pierre disappeared down the hall. Noelle knew she should apologize to him, but all she could think about were those boys. She needed advice, and she knew just who to ask.
“Hey,” Micah said as soon as her face appeared on the phone screen. When she saw Noelle, she immediately looked concerned. “You okay?”
Noelle felt tears prick the backs of her eyes. She worried if she spoke, she’d cry.
“Is it Tobyn?” Micah asked. That question made the threat of tears disappear. Noelle felt nervous for a second, worried she was much more transparent than she thought. She frowned, and felt a tickle in her throat, like maybe all her feelings were related to Tobyn, at least a little.
Noelle: The Mean Girl Page 2
