11 Before 12

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11 Before 12 Page 4

by Lisa Greenwald


  “Ari,” her mom says, holding the door open for us. “Let me help. I’m still your mother.”

  Truthfully, I’m glad that Ari’s mom is out here to help get the fire started because it’s actually kind of hard with the logs and the newspaper and getting it all to work.

  “I’m going to tuck Gemma in,” Ari’s mom says after the fire is going, and we’ve found acceptable s’mores sticks. “Let me know when you’re done, and I’ll come out and clean up.”

  Ari rolls her eyes, though I’m not sure if her mom can see that in the dark.

  “Thanks so much,” I say. “I love s’mores.”

  Ari and I eat three each, and after that we’re totally stuffed, maybe too stuffed to talk. We’re just sitting there, quiet, watching the flying embers.

  “Maybe we’re being too self-centered,” I say, gazing at the fire. The flames have a way of bringing the soul-searching out of a person. “We need to help humanity somehow.”

  “Right now?” she asks. “We’re in pajamas.”

  I crack up. “No. Not right now. But I mean, in general. That should be on our list. We need to think about others besides ourselves. It will make us better people.”

  “Very deep, Kay.” Ari nods and writes it down. “I like it.”

  “We can start by helping some of those exhausted moms at the pool,” I suggest, pulling my knees up to my chin. “They have all those kids, and they’re trying to put on the sunscreen and the water wings and the kids are running away. You know? I mean, I think they can use help. And I like kids.”

  “Yeah, tired moms are definitely part of humanity,” Ari replies. “Speaking of moms, here’s another one. We need to have talks with our moms. We can’t start middle school with them hovering all the time. We’re gonna have a million things to deal with, and we can’t be struggling with mom drama.”

  I think I see where Ari’s going with this, but I’m not entirely sure. “Mama Drama, we can call it.”

  She nods and goes on. “I mean, both of our moms are super-overprotective. That needs to stop.”

  Right at that moment, Ari’s mom comes back out. “I’m just cleaning up a little, girls.” She yawns. “Let me know when you’re going to bed, and I’ll make sure the fire is out. Remember to brush your teeth.”

  “See what I mean,” Ari whispers, and eye-bulges at me.

  I try not to crack up, but that timing was just too perfect.

  “We know, Mom,” she yells. “We’re eleven, not four.”

  “Ari, watch your tone.”

  “It’s Arianna! How many times do I have to tell you?” Ari yells.

  “You don’t need to be so mean to her,” I remind her, after her mom’s gone back inside.

  “She’s so annoying.”

  “Yeah, but she’s trying.” It makes me nervous when they argue.

  “Okay. Moving on.” Ari looks down at the notepad. “I just remembered something that happened at the pool that I forgot to tell you!”

  “What?” I squeal, putting another marshmallow on the stick.

  “So I was in the bathroom, and that girl Cara was there,” she starts, leaning over the arm of her Adirondack chair. “Remember, the one who’s a year older than us? We hung with her a little last summer.”

  “Oh yeah,” I say, toasting my marshmallow by the fire.

  “So she was like, ‘Did you get your hair highlighted?’” Ari flips her head over to show me the bottom and then flips back up. “I was like, ‘No,’ and then she said she totally thought I did because it looks so red!”

  I go back to the chair with my charred marshmallow, curving my neck around to get a closer look. I guess it does look kind of red, maybe from the sun? It’s a little hard to see in the dark. Maybe it’s been getting redder all summer and I just hadn’t noticed.

  “It does look a little red,” I tell her, assembling my s’more.

  “So I think we should add highlights to the list!” She combs her fingers through her hair. “How awesome would that be? Starting middle school with fabulous hair!”

  “Yeah!” I clap. “Add highlights. Why not? Could you see me as a blonde?” I crack up, and suddenly can’t stop laughing. “Wait, does that count as part of our Whole Me Makeover, though? Is it a separate item?”

  Ari twitches her nose from side to side, thinking for a minute. “Ummm. I think it is separate. Whole Me is more big picture—like who we want to be in middle school. This is about fabulous hair, but, I mean, we need to go to a salon to do it. It needs to be its own thing.”

  I nod, stretching out my legs. “Yeah, you’re right.” I hesitate a second because we’ll obviously need our moms’ permission (and money) to do it, and Ari was just rude to her mom. What if she says no now? See, gotta be nice to moms. It’s just the way to go.

  Eleven-year-olds can’t get highlights on their own . . . or can they? I mean, maybe we could sneak out and do it?

  Right then, a major, important, huge component of the list comes to me. Out of the blue. A total cartoon-lightbulb-in-the-air-above-my-head kind of moment.

  “OMG. Eleven,” I say, clapping. “Eleven. Eleven. Eleven.”

  “Eleven,” Ari repeats. “Why eleven?”

  “Eleven things we need to do before we turn twelve!” I stand up and tap-dance with excitement. “Get it? Eleven Before Twelve!”

  “Genius!” Ari hops up from her chair and hugs me and we jump up and down a few times. “That alone can get us on TV! We can start a movement. A guidebook for girls to follow before they turn twelve! This is huge!”

  “Okay.” I laugh. “Imagine if we did start a movement? And we had meetings with eleven-year-olds from all over the country to help them start middle school, too. We’ll be experts after this year!”

  “Yeah!” Ari says. “See, we can totally do this! Look how much we’ve accomplished already.”

  I sit back in my chair and stare at the flames, and sigh. Maybe Ari’s right. Maybe we actually can do this and rock middle school and be happy. Maybe I won’t need my worry lists—my agita will just fade on its own.

  “And the fact that we’re completing it by the time we turn twelve,” Ari turns to me. “That’s huge, too. We’ll celebrate that we completed the list with our joint birthday party! I mean, we’ve only been planning it since, like, the day we met.”

  We discovered pretty soon after we met that Ari’s birthday is the day after mine. Our moms had decided to bring in cupcakes for the class, and since Ari’s birthday was falling on a Saturday that year, our moms were coming on the same day. At first I wasn’t thrilled about sharing my birthday in-school celebration, but then it actually seemed great. Her mom brought all pink frosted cupcakes, and my mom brought all vanilla.

  “YES! YES! YES! It’s going to be the best ever.” I jump up again and pop another piece of chocolate in my mouth. “We could have a bonfire! Here! At your house!”

  “But my mom . . .” Ari’s voice trails off. “That could get annoying.”

  “Your house is awesome, Ari. I think it’s the perfect place for a party.”

  “True. And I mean, she could be better by then, after we have our talks with our moms, ya know, the heart-to-heart.” Ari smiles. “I’m so glad we’re doing this together. I’m so glad we can help each other through this.”

  “Me too,” I say.

  She scootches over to the side of her chair and pats the seat so I sit down. Soon we’re side by side, squeezed in on the red Adirondack chair. We’re staring at the fire, and we’re cuddled together. I don’t want the fire to go out because I kind of want to stay in this moment forever and ever. But in a way, I do kind of want it to go out, because that means we can go to sleep and then wake up tomorrow and get started with this list.

  When something this exciting happens, it’s just too hard to wait to jump in.

  When the fire is out completely, we go back inside and up to Ari’s room. By the end of the night we have a complete list.

  Eleven Fabulous Things to Make Us Even More
<
br />   AMAZING Before We Turn Twelve

  1. Make a guy friend.

  2. Do a Whole Me Makeover.

  3. Get on TV for something cool we’ve done (not because we got hit by a bus).

  4. Help humanity.

  5. Highlight our hair.

  6. Do something we think we’ll hate.

  7. Fulfill lifelong dream to kayak at night to the little island across the lake. (First step, find a kayak.)

  8. Kiss a boy.

  9. Get detention.

  10. Have a mature discussion with our moms about their flaws.

  11. Sabotage Ryan.

  SEVEN

  WE’RE SIDE BY SIDE ON Ari’s trundle bed, and I can’t fall asleep. I keep tossing and turning under my blanket. I try to sleep on my side, and then my back, and then my stomach. Nothing feels comfortable. “I’m overwhelmed,” I say out loud, trying to see if Ari is still awake.

  Thankfully, she is. “I know,” she mumbles, half-asleep. “That’s why we came up with the list in the first place. Remember?”

  “Right. I know. Lists always help. But we’re not going to be able to accomplish all of this before school starts.”

  Ari sits up in her bed and throws a pillow at me. I’m not too far from her, so it’s pretty easy for her to hit me, even in the dark.

  “Hello? Are you losing your mind? Remember your whole idea—eleven before twelve? We don’t need to do it all before school starts. We have until November, our birthdays.”

  I sigh with relief. Even though it was my idea, I’d kind of forgotten that. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. My mind is spinning in so many directions and it’s hard to stay focused.

  “You’re right. You’re right. I feel better now.”

  “We can start sabotaging Ryan right away, though.” Ari laughs. “I don’t like what a doofus he’s becoming to you. He used to be nice.”

  “He did, right?” I ask. “Now he’s like a champion doofus. Like he won a contest against all the doofusy guys in the world.”

  Ari laughs and then yawns. “Okay, I’m going to sleep now. For real.”

  “For real for real?” I cozy up under Ari’s pink comforter, trying to get ready for sleep, too.

  She laughs. “Yes. For real. For real.”

  Five minutes later, I flip to my other side and see that Ari’s wide-awake, staring at the ceiling.

  “I can’t sleep,” she says.

  “Me neither.” I push down the comforter and throw my legs on top of it. “I never knew that you, like, wanted to get detention. Is that something you’ve been thinking about for a long time?”

  She hoists herself up on one elbow. “Oh, well, it’s just that we’ve spent so long being perfect, doing everything our moms ask us to. Ya know?”

  I nod. “It’s true. We do always follow the rules. I mean, remember in fourth grade when I got in trouble for talking and I had to go five minutes late to lunch? I practically passed out from the stress.”

  “Exactly!” Ari lies back down. “This will help us handle when bad things happen. Like, we’ll get in trouble, but we’ll be able to deal with it. And we won’t do anything really bad. We won’t cheat on a test or publicly humiliate anyone,” she explains.

  “Okay, we won’t publicly humiliate anyone. Except Ryan, of course.” I laugh and then get quiet.

  “What?” she asks.

  “Truthfully, the detention thing makes me nervous.” I lie back down. “That’s not really me, ya know? I think I’m okay with being a rule follower.”

  “It’ll be okay.” She pats my shoulder. “We won’t get expelled or do anything that will end up on your permanent record.”

  “Okay, I’ll trust you,” I say. “For now. Dun dun dun.”

  “Kaylan! Of course you can trust me.” She throws one of the smaller pillows at my head.

  “Ouch!” I throw it back at her. “And kissing, um, that is scary, too. I have no idea how to kiss!”

  “Well, duh, because you haven’t done it,” Ari says. “I mean, I guess everything is scary before you do it.”

  I stare at Ari’s ceiling fan, spinning around and around and around. “Does anyone know how to kiss before they actually do it? I mean, there isn’t a kissing course you can take. YouTube videos?”

  “Ew, Kaylan! That sounds really gross.” She elbows me. “Can we please go to sleep now?”

  “Fine. Good night.” I cover my face with the pillow. I guess I have time to figure all of this out. Until November, at least.

  And it’s not like I have the boy picked out. A first kiss can’t be with just any old boy. It has to be with someone special. Someone meaningful.

  I hope.

  EIGHT

  “JASON! HEY!” ARI CALLS AS we’re walking through the pool gate. Big, puffy clouds are overhead, but I don’t really mind it. Sometimes I need a break from the sun.

  We’re late today because I had my annual checkup with Dr. Noodleman. It went fine, but getting to the pool this late is like against my religion. I didn’t have a choice; my mom made the appointment. I hope no one stole our lounge chairs. Jason’s up ahead and I don’t think he hears her. “Jason!”

  “What’s going on?” I whisper. “Neighbor Boy? You talked?”

  “Yeah, he’s chatty. I’ll explain later,” she says to me, under her breath.

  He turns around, finally, and gives us a wave. Then he does this weird thing where he walks backward to get to us. I keep expecting him to trip over one of the plants or the pool noodles that are left lying around, but he’s actually kind of good at it.

  “Arianna! My neighbor!” He reaches out to hug her. Is this a thing new neighbors do now? Just reach out and hug each other?

  They pull apart from the hug and Ari makes a confused face at me.

  I shrug, trying to indicate that I don’t have a clue what’s going on either.

  “Jason, this is Kaylan,” Ari says, pointing at me. “Kaylan, this is Jason.”

  I nod. “I got that, from the ‘Jason! Hey!’”

  He bursts out laughing.

  “Nice to meet you,” I say.

  “Same! Listen, I gotta run ahead. I said I’d play in the water volleyball game.” He reaches a hand up to high-five both of us. “Catch you later, though?”

  We nod, and mumble later. Didn’t he just move here? How is he already in a league at the pool? Everything surrounding Jason is very mysterious.

  We stop in the bathroom to make sure our bathing suits are on correctly. I turn to Ari at the full-length mirror. “You didn’t tell me you talked to Neighbor Boy!”

  “I know.” She inspects her hair, still thinking about the highlights, I’m guessing. “It happened this morning. He was outside playing basketball while my mom was having her coffee on the porch. And then the moms started talking, and you know how it is. . . .”

  “He seems nice. Friendly.”

  Ari loosens her towel so she can tighten it again, and that’s when I see the bathing suit that she’s wearing.

  “What?” she asks, when she notices me looking at her.

  “A boobage bikini?” I shriek.

  “Shhhh.” She hits me on the arm with her sunscreen tube. “Stop!”

  “I can’t believe you’re wearing that,” I shout-whisper.

  “I know.” She spins around in a circle, showing it off. “I just found it, and all my other suits were dirty, so I figured, why not?”

  I shrug.

  “Why? Does it look bad?” she asks.

  “No. It looks great.” I pick my backpack up off the floor. “I just can’t believe you’re actually wearing it! Can we go to our lounges now? We need to decide what we’re doing first on the list.”

  “Highlights. Duh,” Ari says as we leave the bathroom. “We already know where to get it done. We want to have a fresh look for middle school. And we can’t wait too long to do it, because what if it turns out completely horrible and then we need to have it fixed before school starts?”

  “Yeah, but hello—major
obstacle in our way.” I glare at her as we walk to the lounges. “Well, two, I guess.”

  Our moms.

  “Okay, here’s the plan,” Ari says, once we’re comfy on our lounge chairs. “We’ll all go together. We’ll get lunch first. You talk to your mom at dinner tonight and I’ll talk to my mom. We need to really stress the fact that this is going to be a bonding experience for us and our moms.”

  “They do love lunching with us,” I add, feeling grateful that Ari always has a plan.

  “I know,” Ari continues, “they love to do anything with us.” She laughs. “I mean, are we even that great?” She turns to me.

  “Um, yes!” I look up to the lifeguard chair; Tyler isn’t there. “We are amazing.”

  “You’re right. We are.”

  I ask, “Your mom dyes her hair, right?”

  “Yeah, for sure. Yours does, too, right?”

  I nod.

  “So obviously they’ll let us do it,” Ari says all matter-of-factly. “They really can’t say no. And I mean, we’re just going for highlights. Nothing even that crazy.”

  After ice cream sandwiches and three games of Would You Rather, Ari and I are back on our lounges.

  She elbows me when some of the bikini boobage girls walk by. That girl Cara is with them. “Look at her hair,” Ari says through her teeth. “I want mine to look exactly like that.”

  I look over, and think about it for a second. “Yeah, it looks really good. I see what you mean.” Suddenly I get a bubbly stomach—like all of our hopes and dreams are wrapped up in our hair.

  “Hey, Ari,” Jules says, walking by with a crew of two girls and two boys. I wait for her to say hi to me, but she doesn’t. Does she even remember that we met?

  I pretend to be really busy with something on my phone.

  “Hey,” Ari says back.

  “By the way, I heard my friends who are going to West Brookside got their schedules,” Jules tells Ari. “So when you get yours, let me know. I’ll hook you guys up!”

  “Oh, cool, thanks!” Ari smiles, stretching out her legs.

  “Oh, I love that bathing suit!” Jules squeals. “Where did you get it?”

  Ari laughs. “I just found it in the back of my drawer. . . .”

 

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