Like nothing had happened!
I glared at those happy boys.
Especially Ben,
who’d started everything with his stupid chanting!
And then Mrs. Ramji exclaimed, “Eleanor!”
I turned to her quickly
and held my breath.
Was she mad at me?
Had she heard about my meanness?
She didn’t look mad.
“I love your sweatshirt!” she said. “It’s so lively!”
“Thanks,” I said.
I glanced over at Ainsley then.
She was sitting at her desk.
I’d hoped she might smile
if I wore the sweatshirt.
But she was definitely not smiling.
“Ainsley’s mom designed it,”
I told Mrs. Ramji quickly.
So Ainsley would hear me give her mom credit.
But Ainsley just frowned deeper.
She looked like
she wanted me
to take the sweatshirt off.
I crossed my arms over my chest.
I didn’t have anything to change into!
“Your mom is very talented, Ainsley,”
Mrs. Ramji said.
Ainsley did smile a little then,
but only at Mrs. Ramji.
And she thanked her.
Then Mrs. Ramji said to the whole class,
“All right, everyone. Let’s get started.”
So I had to go sit in my seat.
Right next to Pearl.
She wouldn’t even look at me.
She leaned away from me
and took a notebook out of her backpack.
I’d helped her decorate the outside of that notebook!
But she definitely wasn’t having
happy decorating memories.
She set the notebook down, hard, on her desk
and slammed a pen on top of it
and stared straight ahead.
I kept looking at her.
But she wouldn’t look back.
“I’m sorry!” I wanted to tell her.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.
I’m so sorry.”
But I’d already tried that.
And she’d told me to go away.
My shoulders slumped a little,
and I shook my head.
I’d never get Pearl back.
We’d never be friends again.
She’d never tell me one of her poems
or call me on the phone and shout,
“Eleanor! It’s Pearl!”
I was starting to cry
in school
for the second day in a row,
when a wadded-up ball of paper flew through the air
and landed on my desk.
I knew exactly what that flying piece of paper was.
I opened it up
and smoothed it out.
Sure enough, Nicholas Rigby had drawn me a picture.
This one had a little row of chicks.
He’d labeled them “Marshmallow Peeps.”
And he’d written,
right above them,
“Don’t be sad.”
I wiped tears off my cheeks
and folded that picture neatly
and put it on top of the pile of pictures
I kept in my desk.
Then I turned and whispered to him, “Thanks,”
like I always did.
He kicked the back of my chair,
not too hard,
like he always did.
And I had to admit,
he’d made me feel better.
Nicholas’s note gave me an idea.
Maybe a note could help
with Ainsley
and with Pearl.
So,
while Mrs. Ramji talked about multiplying by ten,
I thought hard about what I wanted to say
to each of them.
Then,
as quietly as I could,
I tore two pieces of paper
out of my notebook.
And I wrote to them both.
First, I wrote this note to Ainsley:
Dear Ainsley,
I am so sorry.
I hope you will forgive me someday.
I’m planning to wear this sweatshirt
every single day
until you do.
Except
I don’t think you will like that.
Will you PLEASE tell me
if you don’t want me to?
And if there’s something else I can do?
PLEASE tell me.
Your friend,
who shouldn’t have done what she did,
Eleanor
And then I wrote to Pearl.
I’d decided she might like a poem.
Since she talks like a poet sometimes.
So I wrote:
Dear Pearl,
I did a mean thing.
A very mean thing.
To a new girl AND
to my best friend.
I HATE that I did it.
But I did.
This is worse than
carrot juice on a cupcake
or a wasp on my pillow
or a dress that’s too tight at the neck.
I hope you never do anything that mean.
I really do.
I almost ended my note there,
with the end of that poem.
But then I worried
that it wasn’t enough.
So I kept going.
I added:
I am so sorry.
I will do ANYTHING to make it up to you.
I would eat PICKLES for you.
You are still my very best friend,
even if I am not yours.
I am so, so, so sorry.
Love,
Eleanor
As soon as I finished writing to Pearl and Ainsley,
I pretended I needed a tissue.
I walked over to the tissue box by the window.
As I passed Pearl,
I slipped her note on her desk.
And I did the same for Ainsley.
Then I pretended to blow my nose by the window.
I tried to watch Pearl and Ainsley while I did.
Ainsley didn’t even open my note.
She just put it in her backpack.
Pearl did read hers.
I think she even smiled a tiny bit.
And then she wrote me back!
I was so happy
when I saw her put that note on my desk,
I almost ran back there.
And I opened that note up fast.
But
it only said:
I knew what I had to do
as soon as I read Pearl’s note.
I waited
and waited
and waited
for lunch,
tapping my fingers on my desk
until Mrs. Ramji asked me to stop.
“Your new sweatshirt is giving you energy!”
she said. “But the noise is distracting.”
I sat on my hands after that,
until it was finally time for lunch.
Then I stood in the cafeteria line
with my plastic tray.
And as soon as I got to the front,
I said to the lunch lady,
“Can I please have a pickle?”
“We’re not serving pickles today,” she said.
“It’s cold cuts day tomorrow.
You’ll have to wait until then.”
“I can’t!” I said.
I got ready to climb over the steaming meatballs
and push past that lady
and search the kitchen myself.
“It’s an emergency!” I told the lunch lady.
She squinted at me.
I put my hand on my heart,
to show how much I meant it.
“So,” she said,
“this is a life-or-death pickle?”
“It is!” I said. “I swear.”
“We only have pickle slices,” she said.
“That’s fine!” I said.
She shook her head
and wiped her hands on her apron.
“How many?” she asked.
It was a good question!
Just one slice might not impress Pearl.
But I couldn’t eat too many!
I’d vomit all over the cafeteria!
The poor lunch lady might have to help clean it up!
“Two, please,” I told her.
She left then, to get the pickles.
Kids behind me in line
started getting restless.
I ignored them.
My problems were bigger than theirs.
Finally the lunch lady came back, holding
a small white bowl
with two pickle slices.
I thanked her a million times
and hurried away,
without any actual lunch.
I searched the cafeteria,
holding my little bowl,
until I saw Ainsley and Pearl.
There were no empty seats at their table,
but I didn’t need one.
I walked over to Pearl
and set the bowl on the table, next to her plate.
She looked up at me,
very surprised.
I lifted one slimy, dripping wet pickle slice
with my fingers.
I could barely look at it!
And it stank so badly!
But still.
I held my nose
and took a sour, nasty bite
and swallowed.
I didn’t even have a drink!
I didn’t think I could take too many more
of those bites.
But I had to finish two whole slices!
I closed my eyes.
I could feel Pearl watching me.
“What is she doing?” someone at the table said.
“Shh!” Pearl told them.
The whole table went silent.
I made a big decision.
I was still holding the rest of the slice.
I grabbed the other slice, too,
and shoved them both in my mouth at once;
and,
with my eyes squeezed shut,
I chewed and chewed
as fast as I could
and
swallowed.
“Wow,” I heard Pearl say.
Then,
without my even asking,
she handed me her water.
I’d hoped Pearl and I could play together
during recess that afternoon.
Because she’d given me water!
And after lunch, she’d started smiling at me again!
But Ainsley
was still not smiling.
And Pearl chose Ainsley
over me.
Together,
the whole entire recess,
they did a fancy hand-clapping game
that I’d never seen before!
Ainsley must’ve taught it to Pearl
one Monday or Wednesday afternoon
when Pearl was supposed to be teaching Ainsley.
I sat by myself on a bench
while they clapped and sang.
And I tried to think.
Because I needed another plan.
Finally,
as the recess bell rang,
I had an idea.
I needed to talk to Pearl and Ainsley right away.
I hurried behind them
and saw them walk into the bathroom.
I decided to follow them in.
Even though I did not
have good memories
of that place.
At least there was no one else in the bathroom
this time.
And Pearl and Ainsley weren’t sharing a stall,
with Ainsley weeping inside.
I could see Pearl’s sneakers in the stall by the wall
and Ainsley’s flats in the next stall down.
“Um,” I said.
To get their attention.
Then I said, “It’s Eleanor. I’ve been thinking—
what if we promise that you will never
tell me someone else’s secret,
and I will never tell you someone else’s secret?
If someone shares a secret with you,
I don’t want to know about it!
Ever!
Then could we be friends?
Because I hate
not being friends!”
For a second,
neither of them spoke.
Then Pearl cried out from behind her door,
“I don’t want to be told secrets, either!
And I definitely won’t tell.
I wish I could erase sharing Ainsley’s secret.
I should never have done that!”
Pearl and I both waited then,
for Ainsley to say something.
Finally,
in a little voice,
Ainsley said,
“Do we have to do this
while I’m peeing?
Could I talk to Pearl about it later?”
“Yes, definitely!” Pearl said. “We’ll talk later!”
And I said, “Okay.”
But I thought,
Why can’t I talk about it, too?
It’s my idea!
I left them in the bathroom then.
For the second day in a row.
But at least
this time,
I wasn’t running
to the nurse.
Mrs. Quaid let us practice in our bunny costumes
at rehearsal that afternoon.
“We won’t do this often,” she said.
“But it helps give you a feel for your characters.”
Those soft, furry costumes
zipped right over our clothes.
And we each got a headband
with two giant ears attached!
My costume was lavender,
and Katie’s was yellow,
and Nicholas’s was pale blue.
We all had white bellies and paws and ears.
I liked seeing my friends as bunnies
and being one myself.
But still.
I dreaded the solo
and hugging Nicholas.
I got ready to punch freckly Ben
with my rabbit paw
if he started chanting anything.
I’d never punched anyone in my life.
But I’d never eaten pickles, either,
before that day.
I figured I’d punch Ben twice.
Once for me
and once for Ainsley.
When everyone was in costume,
Mrs. Quaid said, “Let’s begin with scene two.”
I closed my eyes for a second
and shook my head,
knowing what was coming.
And sure enough,
as soon as I said my first “Honey Bun,”
Ben said, “Oooh.”
I stopped reading my lines then
and put my paws on my hips
and glared at him.
“That’s enough, Ben,”
Mrs. Quaid said,
very sharply.
And Katie said, “Definitely.”
And Nicholas said, “Yeah—definitely.”
Which was very nice of them.
Ben shrugged
and started pulling on one of Adam’s ears.
“Be careful, Ben!” Mrs. Quaid said.
“Those ears rip!”
Adam put his hand on his bunny ear then
and said,
“It’s bleeding! It’s bleeding!”
Everyone laughed.
And
nobody paid any attention
to my lines.
It was so much easier, too,
to remember that it was just a play
when I was dressed as a rabbit.
So I read my lines loudly and clearly
and felt braver and braver.
Even the hugging scene went well,
because Nicholas and I just waved at each other
instead of hugging.
Mrs. Quaid shook her head and said,
“We’ll let that be enough for today.”
Then we kept going.
Best of all,
once again,
I didn’t have to sing my solo.
“We’ll focus on your song next time,”
Mrs. Quaid told me.
“But here’s your job, from now until the show.
You must practice convincing yourself
that you are not Eleanor.
You are a famous singer
who performs in front of crowds.
Do you have a favorite singer?”
“Not really,” I said.
“Give it some thought,” she said.
“My dad likes the Beatles,” I said.
“They’re famous, right? I could be one of them.”
“That would be perfect,” she said.
We took off our bunny costumes then.
And I realized
that my sweatshirt had gotten a little sweaty.
It was hot under all that fur!
I have to ask Mom to wash it, I thought.
Because I was still determined
to wear that sweatshirt every single day
until Ainsley forgave me.
I worried the next morning as I walked to school,
wearing my clean sweatshirt.
What if Ainsley didn’t like my no-secrets plan?
What if she stayed mad?
Would Pearl be friends with me anyway?
Would she ever play with me at recess?
And be partners with me in science?
Or would she always choose Ainsley?
My dad told me everything would be okay
as he kissed me good-bye.
I didn’t believe him.
But then I walked into the classroom
and saw Ainsley and Pearl.
They were both wearing pale pink sweatshirts.
Ainsley’s was covered in sparkly rhinestone bows.
And Pearl’s had sparkly rhinestone stripes.
They waved at me
and I hurried to them,
wearing my own rhinestoned sweatshirt.
We stood together,
smiling at one another—
a very glittery trio.
And then Pearl said,
Like Carrot Juice on a Cupcake Page 6
