Noelle: The Mean Girl

by Ashley Woodfolk

  “Why do you think that?” her mother asked.

  Noelle told her about what had happened at Lux’s, and also about how she’d snapped at them all when she was practicing for the showcase while balancing all the extra hours at Lee’s. “I apologized,” Noelle insisted, “to everyone. But I guess that wasn’t good enough.”

  “I know I’m not here a lot,” her mom said. “I know I’m always working. But I also know you, Noelle. You can be snippy when you’re under a lot of pressure, or when you’re upset, or when you feel powerless. The great irony is you’re worse to those closest to you. But you don’t want to constantly test your friends’ love for you. You don’t want to push them away.”

  “Sometimes I do,” Noelle said, and her mother laughed. “But I always want them to come back.”

  Anaïs grinned. “That’s the key. If you want them around, don’t give them a reason to leave.”

  Noelle was about to ask her mother what she should do now, but she heard her father’s gruff voice from the hallway.

  “Anaïs,” he called. They listened to his quick footsteps and he stepped back into the kitchen a second later. There was a thin white envelope in his hand.

  He looked between the two of them. “What is this?” he asked.

  December 10

  Bonjou Granna,

  Everything’s a mess.

  My friends think I’m this terrible person, and to be honest, I can’t blame them.

  Tobyn isn’t speaking to me. She’s upset, I guess about the kiss, but I don’t know for sure because she won’t return any of my texts or calls.

  Remember that scout I told you about? She emailed me asking if I’d sent in my application yet, and I haven’t because I can’t figure out the damn camera, and I’m too ashamed to ask Lux for help.

  As if all of that wasn’t terrible enough, something bad happened tonight. I’d saved all my tips from work, sealed them up in an envelope, and put the envelope in Mama’s dresser. She didn’t know about it. Neither did Daddy. And he’d even made a deal with me to work at the restaurant if he didn’t find a job by December 15th. But then he found the envelope.

  He lost it. I tried to explain; I told him I did this behind Mama’s back and not to be upset at her. He said he was responsible for this family, not his parents. Then Mama got mad and said, “Well how about you swallow your pride and take responsibility for once?”

  It was ugly. Mama went to their bedroom and slammed the door and Daddy stormed out. And I feel like the whole thing, plus everything else that’s a mess in my life, is all my fault.

  * * *

  Noelle’s father came home a few hours later. She was terrified her parents would break up because of this, because of her, so there was no way she could sleep. When her father walked back into the apartment, she ran to the door and hugged him. “I thought you weren’t coming back,” she said. He kissed the top of her head.

  “Of course I was coming back,” he replied.

  “Don’t be mad at Mama. Don’t be mad at Năinai and Yéye, either. Why does everything related to Lee’s make you so mad?”

  Her father slipped out of his jacket and hung it on the hook by the door.

  “Your Yéye, he got sick when I was eighteen, and if I didn’t help out, we could have lost the restaurant,” her father said.

  “Your Năinai, she told me to go to college, but I wouldn’t have been able to bear moving away, knowing that my parents were going to lose their business because my mom was taking care of my sick dad. So I stayed. I deferred my admission for a year, but I lost my scholarships. I decided not to take out loans because I was too afraid of the debt, so I just never went back to school. I worked at Lee’s for a long time, until the restaurant started to make a good profit. Then I noticed my parents were paying me more than I’d earned. When I asked them to stop, they said they wanted to repay me for staying while Dad was sick. I told them not to do that but they wouldn’t listen, so as soon as I could, I found another job.”

  Noelle had no idea about her father’s history with her grandparents. “It would be different,” her father continued, “if they just wanted to help out of the goodness of their hearts. What I hate is that they feel indebted to me. After everything they’ve done for me for my whole life, they don’t want to ‘owe’ me, when I never said that they did.”

  Noelle looked at her father. “That’s why you didn’t want me or Pierre to work there?” He nodded. “Because you were afraid they’d use us to repay you?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “I know we need some help right now, but I don’t want it from them.”

  Noelle could see that pride had been the root of all of this. She didn’t want to let her pride poison her relationships the way it seemed to be working its way through her family. She wanted to be more like her Granna, to ask for help when she needed it—to accept generosity when it was offered. She wanted to be kinder and less angry all the time.

  * * *

  I told them, Noelle texted Tobyn. Micah and Lux know everything.

  What did they say? Tobyn answered. It was the first time she’d answered one of Noelle’s texts in a while.

  Nothing, Noelle said. I mean, I left right after I told them.

  And how do you feel? Tobyn asked. Knowing that they know.

  I don’t know, Tobyn. It just felt like I should tell them.

  Tobyn went quiet, and while Noelle could see that she’d read her messages, Tobyn didn’t send anything else. Tobyn, don’t shut me out. I’m sorry about telling you to break up with Ava. Is that why you’re mad?

  Read, but no answer.

  You really want things to end like this?

  Tobyn didn’t text back.

  When Noelle’s grandmother wrote back, she told her to focus on one problem at a time. Focus on your friends first, Granna Esther had written. Friends are everything in this life. Why not write them a song? she suggested. They will forgive you the second they hear your beautiful music.

  Noelle had already written her friends a song, and she remembered it as soon as she read Granna Esther’s words. She knew exactly what she needed to do.

  * * *

  Can you guys meet me at Micah’s? Noelle sent this text to the group chat. The whole chain had been pretty quiet lately, and Noelle knew the three of her friends were probably texting together on a separate chain without her. She tried not to let it bother her too much.

  Sure, Lux sent. Micah, when’s good?

  Whenever, Micah sent next.

  But there was one person who hadn’t responded.

  Tobyn? Noelle sent. I really want all of us to be there.

  A good twenty minutes passed before Tobyn finally responded.

  K. I’ll come.

  * * *

  It was mid-December, and the weather had cooled quickly, so Micah had on a puffy jacket and thick pink scarf when she opened the door that lead from the stairwell. “You’re the first one here,” Micah said.

  Micah dragged a few of the lawn chairs to the center of the roof, and Noelle grabbed a stool that she set up a little farther away. “What’s this about, Noelle?” Micah asked. “The prank?”

  Noelle had almost forgotten all about that.

  “No,” Noelle answered.

  “The kiss?” Micah asked. She smirked, and Noelle shook her head.

  “You’ll see in a few. I want to wait until everyone is here.”

  Noelle cupped her hands and blew on them before reaching down to pop open her cello case. She prepped her bow and made sure her cello was tuned.

  Lux poked her head through the door a few minutes later. “Hey,” she said. “We finally gonna talk about you kissing Tobyn?”

  Noelle felt her face heat up. “I like her. I don’t really know what else there is to say about it.”

  “Uh, how about where and when did it happen?
Did she know you liked her before it happened? Is that why she’s being all weird around us now?” Lux said.

  “Are you two in loooooove?” Micah added.

  “It happened at school in the music room. I’ve liked her for a while. I don’t know if that’s why she’s being weird.”

  “That’s not why,” Tobyn said as she stepped through the door. “I just needed some space and time to think.”

  They all went quiet as Tobyn walked toward Noelle. Micah and Lux watched, and Noelle didn’t know what Tobyn was about to do or say. She was too nervous to wait to find out.

  She lifted her bow and started playing. Tobyn stopped in her tracks.

  The song sounded bright at the beginning. It shined, like the sun glinting off the windows of the buildings they could see from the roof. And as she continued to play, the high notes fell deeper and seemed to come from the belly of the instrument. It then faded a bit and got softer. The song felt a little sad near the end, the way the end of most days could feel, like something about it had been shattered. But even with the parts that sounded broken, the song still felt like the four of them—pieces of a whole.

  When she finished playing, the girls applauded. “That was another original, wasn’t it?” Tobyn asked. And Noelle nodded.

  “It’s called ‘Golden Hour.’ I wrote it about us. I know a song doesn’t fix everything, or anything really,” Noelle said, “but I want you to take this song as a promise.”

  “A promise?” Micah asked.

  “A promise that from this point forward I’m going to change the way I talk to you guys. I can’t say I’ll never be a smartass ever again, but I will say I won’t speak when I’m angry or irritated or stressed out. I’m learning that meanness can fester,” Noelle said. “And I don’t want to become this person who is horrible to the people I love.”

  “That makes sense,” Micah said.

  “But how can we believe you?” Lux asked.

  “You just gotta trust,” Tobyn said. “I think she can do it.”

  They had planned to pull off their prank the same day that Noelle submitted her application to the Manhattan School of Music. She’d already uploaded the video Lux had helped her record, copied and pasted the essay Micah had read over for her, and attached the artistic resume that Tobyn helped her pull together at the last minute (she’d had no idea she needed one). Now she typed in the numbers of Năinai’s credit card for the application fee. “You can take it out of my tips,” Noelle told her grandmother when she’d asked to borrow her card. “No, honey,” Năinai replied. “We’re happy to pay for this. We’re proud of you.”

  Noelle hit send on the application with her fingers and toes crossed. Then shot a quick email to Penelope Chung to let her know her application was complete.

  She grabbed her heavy cello case and backpack and was ready to slip out of the room before Pierre woke up, but when she checked her phone, she saw that she had a string of texts from her friends.

  Lux: Soooo my dad found the spray paint when he went into my closet looking for his snow boots this morning . . .

  Tobyn: crap crap crap

  Micah: Oh no Lux! Are you okay?

  Tobyn: Did he call you Luxana and take your whole life away?

  Lux: Lol. Yeah, I’m fine. I lied and said it was for a photography project, but he’s still pissed that I got it in a shady way and he won’t let me have the paint back. Soooo . . . do we have a backup plan?

  Micah: Maybe we just wait? Do it later in the year or something?

  Tobyn: Noelle, where are you????

  Lux: That girl better not have overslept if I’M up!

  Noelle looked out her window and saw that it must have snowed heavily while they slept.

  “Dammit,” Noelle whispered. Their plans were ruined, but she immediately tried to come up with a new idea.

  It was so early that the streetlights were still on and the only cars on the road were the snow trucks plowing and salting the streets. Snow was still falling. As she watched the trucks shove snow into huge piles against the curbs, she got an idea for how their prank might not be ruined, not exactly. She picked up her phone to text her friends back.

  Don’t worry, Noelle sent. I have an idea.

  Meet me in front of school like we planned.

  Bring shovels.

  And Kool-Aid.

  Lux was the only one who replied:

  Kool-Aid?????

  * * *

  The other Flyy Girls were already in front of the school when Noelle arrived a half hour later. It was still very early, and the sun barely peeked through the tall buildings all around them.

  “It’s like another Golden Hour,” Micah said.

  Lux groaned. “Yeah, one I’d be fine with never seeing again. Why did we have to do this so early?” she whined.

  “Because doing it at night would be too risky,” Tobyn reminded her. “Duh.” She yawned. “Let’s just get started. We don’t have much time.”

  Noelle explained what she thought they should do, and the girls loved her idea.

  “OMG, you’re freaking brilliant,” Micah said.

  They started by shoveling the snow that was piled up against the curb and on the steps in front of the school, then moved on to shoveling more snow from the grass and whatever was left on the sidewalk.

  “You know, if our school was in any other neighborhood, this prank wouldn’t even be possible,” Lux said sourly. “Like my dad’s neighborhood. There wasn’t any snow even left in front of our bougie building.”

  “Yeah,” Noelle agreed. “But the city seems to forget to salt and plow areas where people like us live.”

  “Well, it’s working in our favor today,” Tobyn said with a grin.

  They piled the snow, little by little, up against the doors of the school from the ground to the top of the doorframe. They packed it tight and high, then rounded out the sides, top, and bottom as best they could into the shape of a giant butterfly. The snow blocked the doors completely, and then they used the packets of Kool-Aid to stain the snow butterfly’s wings in bright splashes of color.

  When they’d finished, they stepped back to admire their work. It looked beautiful, but more importantly, it would be a huge pain for anyone to get into the school building that morning.

  “Yaaaaaas!” Tobyn shouted. She wrapped her arm around Noelle’s shoulders. Then Lux threw her arm over Tobyn’s, and Micah came over and leaned against Lux, completing the pile. They were a mess of friendship and accomplishment, and they were all grinning, mouths wide.

  “This is good,” Micah said.

  “Damn good,” Lux agreed. She pulled out her phone and snapped a photo, and Noelle tried hard to smile and laugh with her friends. It was a great prank, it had been her idea, and they’d actually pulled it off. But all she could think about was how close she stood to Tobyn, and how the butterfly on the door was nothing compared to the butterflies in her stomach.

  * * *

  A few hours later, when the girls returned to school, trying their best to look innocent and surprised, the block was packed with students. Everyone crowded around the doors trying to take photos of the snow butterfly even as the janitor chipped away at the bottom.

  “Go slow,” one teacher said, “you don’t want to damage the door.”

  “I think I got it,” the janitor said, rolling his eyes.

  Lux pushed her lips together to hold in her smile.

  Micah coughed, to hide her laugh.

  Tobyn turned and covered her mouth with her hand.

  Noelle, who had the best poker face of the bunch, pulled out her phone, looking bored.

  Emmett, Lux’s crush, walked over and stood with them. He whispered, “The Flyy Girls strike again.” Lux punched him in the arm.

  Noelle glared at him for a split second. But then, she couldn’t help it. Even she smirked
.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Ashley Woodfolk is an author who lives in Brooklyn. Find her on Twitter and Instagram at @AshWrites.

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