You Can't Sit With Us

by Nancy Rue

  The only thing I could hope for was my session with Lydia during lunch, although Kylie was going to be there too. Did she have to be everywhere? Maybe there would be other kids who’d violated the Code and it wouldn’t be just us two. But then I’d never get to talk to Lydia.

  It was like the only card in my pocket was Save the Tears. I did. When lunchtime came, I practically ran to the conference room in the library so I could at least see Lydia for a minute by myself. But I stopped in the doorway to regroup. It had only been a few weeks since I’d seen her, yet in that time I’d almost forgotten that she was a dwarf.

  For real.

  She’d told us she would rather be called a Little Person. Even smaller than Winnie, she was tiny everywhere except her head, which looked too big for her body, especially because of all the black curly hair. I had to look down at her as she came toward me, but I noticed right away that something was different.

  “You don’t walk funny anymore!” I said.

  “Hello to you too,” she said.

  “Sorry,” I said. “You just walk normal now. That’s good, right?”

  “That’s very good. The surgery corrected my limp.”

  “I’m happy to see you,” I said. And then the tears I’d been saving pushed their way out.

  “And I’m happy to see you too. Very happy.”

  As I smeared at my eyes with the backs of my hands, I expected Lydia to ask me why I was avoiding the Tribelet. I knew they’d probably talked to her about it yesterday at the meeting at Tori’s that I didn’t show up for even though I said I would. But she didn’t ask, because Kylie sauntered in (that’s the only word for that walk), swishing her hair around. It said, Even though I’m here because I have to be, I intend to take over.

  I looked away so she wouldn’t see me smile. I hadn’t had a reason to grin for, like, four days, but just thinking about how Lydia was going to make the smirk disappear from Kylie’s face made me want to go, “Woo-hoo!”

  “You must be Kylie,” Lydia said.

  She put out her hand for Kylie to shake it, but Kylie just stood there staring at her like she was an alien from Saturn.

  “Let’s get this out of the way,” Lydia said. “I was born with dwarfism, which makes me one of the Little People. Other than that, I’m just like everyone else.”

  No, she’s not, I wanted to say. She’s not like anybody else you will ever meet, and you are about to find that out.

  Kylie seemed kind of scared, as in she didn’t shake Lydia’s hand and she raised one shoulder like little kids do when they’re afraid of a stranger.

  “It’s just going to be the three of us,” Lydia said, “so I thought we’d sit over here.”

  She pointed to a trio of chairs she’d arranged by the window with a little low table in the middle, like we were going to have tea, only without the tea. As I followed Lydia over there, I wondered why there weren’t more people here. Either everybody was following the Code or the teachers weren’t enforcing it.

  I sat down, but Kylie didn’t. She pulled a pink gel pen out of the pocket of her jeans that were so skinny I didn’t see how she could fit anything in there. “I won’t be here that long,” she said. “I just came down to sign the Code. That’s the only reason I’m here.”

  Lydia patted the empty chair. “Go ahead and sit down for a minute. I don’t happen to have a copy of the Code on me right now, so you might as well stay.”

  “It’s posted in the front hall,” Kylie said. Her hair said, Are you clueless or what?

  “I know,” Lydia said.

  She looked at the chair and then at Kylie and then back at the chair. Kylie flounced herself into it.

  Talk about clueless.

  “You’re actually not just here to sign the Code,” Lydia said to her. “You were involved in a situation in P.E. that raised some concerns for the coach.”

  “It wasn’t my situation,” Kylie said.

  “Tell me about it,” Lydia said.

  For the first time, I squirmed. What was Lydia doing?

  Lydia gave me the tiniest of all nods, and I sat still. I would get my chance.

  “I’ll tell you exactly what happened,” Kylie said.

  Her voice had changed from Brussels sprouts bitter to sickeningly sweet. Like that fake sugar my dad put in his coffee.

  “I was just sitting there talking to my friends first period about how I ‘lost’ my makeup kit.”

  “You say ‘lost’ like you don’t believe that’s what happened.” Lydia smiled her smile that was like a slice of orange. “If you’re going to tell exactly what happened, tell us everything.”

  “I don’t want to accuse anybody of anything,” Kylie said, eyes wide. “But I don’t see how I could have lost it. I always keep it in my bag. A lot of people want my nice things and they’re jealous of me.” She looked down at her lap like she was trying to be shy. “That’s all I want to say on that.”

  “All right. Go on.”

  “So, we were talking, and Ginger came over. My friend Heidi thought she wanted another makeover like we gave her the day before.” Another Barbie doll smile. “You should have seen her. She looked so good. Anyway, Heidi told her we couldn’t give her one because my makeup kit was missing. And then Ginger pulled it out from under her T-shirt . . .” Kylie demonstrated with an invisible case. “And she held it out like this, like she was taunting me.” She put her hand to her chest, fingers spread out. “I was surprised because we were all so nice to her the day before. I didn’t want to make a scene in front of the class, so I just said, you know, ‘Give it to me,’ and she wouldn’t.” Kylie lowered her gaze to her knees again. Her eyelashes almost brushed her face. “I didn’t want to get Ginger in trouble because she’s been trying so hard lately, but it was my makeup kit, so I did grab at it. I guess the zipper came open and . . .”

  “And?” Lydia said. I couldn’t tell from her face whether she was believing Kylie or not. “This is kind of embarrassing,” Kylie said. “But I had a bra in there, and when the zipper came open, it popped out and I guess Ginger slung it down the bleachers so it would land in one of the boys’ laps. Then they were all grabbing for it, and I just wanted to crawl in a hole, y’know?”

  My mouth had never hung open that far. My chin was just about touching my collarbone. If I had been counting the lies, I would have run out of fingers.

  “So, you can see why I shouldn’t even be here,” Kylie said.

  “Because you’re the victim,” Lydia said.

  “Well, not the victim.” Kylie pulled her chin in as if Lydia had just suggested she had pimples.

  “We’ll get to that in a minute.” Lydia turned to me. If she noticed I was one big blotch, she didn’t say. “Your turn, Ginger. Tell us what happened.”

  “I just told you!” Kylie said.

  “You told us how you saw it. I want to hear both sides.” Lydia smiled. “There are always two. Ginger?”

  I didn’t even get my lips moving before there was a tap on the door. A lady I recognized as the school secretary poked her head in when Lydia said, “Yes?”

  “I need to see you,” she said.

  Lydia paused for a second, and then she sighed and climbed down from her chair. “Will you ladies sit quietly for a minute?”

  “Absolutely,” Kylie said.

  And then of course the second the door clicked shut, she turned on me, eyes down to hard lines.

  “I heard you were talking to Michelle Iann.” Kylie pushed her neck toward me. “Haven’t you had enough warning? Are you, like, dense?”

  The door opened, and Kylie pulled her neck back like a turtle and plastered on the Barbie smile again.

  “Kylie,” Lydia said, “your mother is here to take you to your dentist appointment.”

  The hair flipped in triumph, and Kylie slipped from the chair. “I’ll sign the Code on the way out,” she said, and left.

  I slumped. Lydia stood in front of me, hands folded.

  “All right, Ginger,” she said
. “It’s just you and me. Do you want to tell me what’s really going on?”

  Did I want to? Did I breathe the air?

  Actually, I didn’t breathe at that moment. I felt like I was being ripped in half right down the middle. I could trust Lydia, but then what? If she did anything about it, Kylie would know I told.

  “You’re obviously miserable, my friend,” Lydia said.

  I blinked hard. “I can’t tell you everything.”

  “Then tell me what truth you can. It won’t leave this room.”

  “Really?”

  “Really—unless someone is physically hurting you.”

  I wondered if the knotted-up pain in my stomach counted.

  “I can’t tell you why,” I said, “but I’m still afraid of Kylie. I try to stand up to her, but it’s not working and I feel stupid about it. You and Tori and everybody helped me, and now I can’t even . . .” Can’t even finish the sentence.

  “We can’t expect things to change like that.” Lydia snapped her tiny fingers. “And here’s the thing: it’s natural for you to still feel uncertain after all you’ve been through. Telling you not to have a reaction to the meanness of those girls is like telling one of those leaves out there not to blow in the wind. You can’t expect yourself not to feel anything.”

  “So, my stomach hurting is normal?”

  “It’s a normal reaction to an abnormal situation.” Lydia shook her wonderful curls. “It’s important for you to remember that the problem isn’t with you, Ginger, it’s with Kylie.” Her eyebrows twitched. “She’s quite the actress, but that doesn’t make her better than you. Nothing makes her better than you. Until you realize that, the bullying—whatever it is right now—will continue and you’ll remain powerless.”

  I’d always loved the way Lydia talked to us like we were adults.

  “I’m going to respect your right not to tell me anything, although I hope at some point you will. But I think I can help you.”

  “Please?” I said.

  “Let me ask you this first: have you talked to your dad about what’s going on?”

  “No!”

  She pushed her hands down to show me I needed to get calm. I tried, but not telling my dad was the whole point.

  “I don’t mean all the details,” Lydia said. “But if we’re going to fight bullying, it can’t all be up to you. Teachers have to help, and so do parents.” She nodded at me like she wanted me to nod too. “Maybe I’ll ask him to join us one day for lunch. Did you bring yours today, by the way?”

  “I’m not hungry,” I said. I might never be again.

  She looked at me for a few seconds, like she was deciding what to say, and then she picked up her cell phone from the table. I thought she was going to call Dad right then, but she said to me, “Meanwhile, let’s you and I get to work. Here’s a good Baby Step for you.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  “I’m going to teach you how to make a neutral face. We’ll call it a ‘Stone Face.’ ” She held up the phone. “Make the face you make when Kylie is being mean to you.”

  That was easy. Even thinking about it made my eyes all darty and my head twitchy and my mouth weird like I was about to barf. I didn’t realize Lydia was going to take a picture until it was too late.

  “Now,” she said, “see if you can erase all expression and just look like a stone.”

  That was harder. It took me several tries before she snapped the pic.

  “Check these out.”

  She held out the phone, and I looked at the shot of me in I’m-about-to-be-sick mode. It was pretty pathetic.

  “Now this one.”

  I almost didn’t recognize myself without fear smeared all over me.

  Lydia tilted her head at me. “So tell me, Ginger: which one of these girls is less likely to be picked on?”

  “Stone Face,” I said.

  “There you go,” she said.

  Lunch was over by then, and I felt, well, a Baby Step better. I wasn’t sure looking at Kylie like she wasn’t there would help a whole lot, but I didn’t have time to think about it because Colin came into the library and Mr. Devon joined us at our table and it was suddenly like we were at the Council of Elrond.

  “I was quite impressed with both your papers,” Mr. Devon said. “I’ve used what you wrote to come up with a five-step plan for you to use to discover your project.”

  “We’re going to discover it?” Colin’s voice sounded like we were about to fly off to Mordor. He was so not like the other boy creatures I knew. There wasn’t even a hint of a burp or a belch. I wasn’t sure Colin even had armpits.

  “You are,” Mr. Devon said. “Does that please you?”

  We both nodded. What pleased me was the way he talked to us. It was like we were in Middle Earth.

  Mr. Devon turned over a big piece of paper that was on the table and resituated it so Colin and I could both see it while he looked at it upside down. Five steps were listed there:

  Step One: Share with each other what makes The Lord of the Rings your favorite book.

  Step Two: Determine how Tolkien makes it so brilliant.

  Step Three: Discover what the STORY is about (not the plot) and state it in one sentence.

  Step Four: Apply that to your own life in some way.

  Step Five: Create a storyboard for a tale that expresses that life lesson, using what you’ve learned from Step Two about developing a brilliant story.

  “Do you have any questions?” Mr. Devon said.

  “How did you get to be so brilliant?” I said. “This is the most awesome project I’ve ever heard of.”

  “How much time do we get?” Colin said. He was wiggling his legs, like he thought it was as awesome as I did.

  “Oh, yeah. That would be good to know.”

  Mr. Devon rubbed his hands together like he was about to eat a steak. “April 14 is the Fifth-Grade Fair. All the fifth-graders in Grass Valley who are going to be sixth-graders here next year are coming to find out what’s in store for them.”

  “Poor kids,” Colin said.

  Mr. Devon didn’t seem to hear that. “If what you come up with is brilliant enough, you will be allowed to present it at the fair.”

  “You mean, like, read them our story?” I said.

  “That’s a possibility,” Mr. Devon said.

  He looked at Colin.

  “Oh,” I said. “Sorry—I should’ve asked you. I don’t know—do you like to read out loud—I mean, I do but—”

  “I sort of do,” Colin said.

  Then of course we turned the color of a pair of tomatoes—me in splotches, him in one big flood.

  Mr. Devon tapped the paper. “I’ll leave you two to get started on Step One. You can decide the rest later.”

  “Yes, sir,” Colin said.

  I wanted to thank him for giving me the idea to say “sir” because it had helped me with Mr. Jett the day before, but I decided not to. He probably thought I was weird enough already.

  “I’ll get my binder,” I said instead.

  I really couldn’t wait to get started, and I almost got tangled up in the table leg getting to my backpack. When I returned to the table, Kylie was standing on the other side of it.

  Okay, so that was the shortest dentist appointment ever.

  She didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to. Her bob said it for her: Do you see that not even your Lydia person is going to stop me?

  But Lydia’s words were louder than Kylie’s hair. Which one of these girls is less likely to be picked on?

  It took everything I had, but I formed the Stone Face.

  Kylie’s eyes bugged and her lip curled and her hair smacked into the side of her face as she huffed away. As soon as she was gone, I deflated.

  “I feel your pain.”

  I looked up as Colin slid into the chair beside me.

  “What?” I said.

  “I said I feel your pain.” He shrugged. “We should get to work.”

  “Yeah,” I said. I
straightened in the chair. “We should.”

  Chapter Six

  The next few days were the worst for me since I started at Gold Country Middle School. Worst as in I walked around with a big hurting knot in my stomach.

  It wasn’t because Kylie and Those Girls were being openly mean to me like they used to be. They weren’t. Even though I was the slowest person on our team in P.E. and I could only get up to the second knot on the ropes and I knocked every hurdle down trying to jump over it, nobody called me a name or rolled their eyes back into their sockets or said they wished I was back on the other team. At least they learned something from five days’ suspension: don’t let the teachers catch you.

  Those days were the worst because I had to ignore Mitch when she tried to help me. And because Tori’s team was all cheering for each other and telling Winnie, who was the second slowest in the class behind me, that she could do it.

  It was because in our classes I watched them explain pre-algebra to each other and be each other’s lab partners and do Spanish dialogues together to practice.

  It was because even though Shelby and Evelyn invited me to eat lunch with them, I couldn’t be in the cafeteria and watch what used to be my Tribelet share cookies and giggles and secrets I wasn’t in on anymore. So, I skipped lunch and did homework in the library—the only place I felt safe. I couldn’t eat anyway.

  By Thursday morning, it was hard to even focus on the questions at the end of the social studies chapter. They were so easy that border collie on my street could’ve answered them, but all I could think about was that maybe it was always going to be this way whether I wore a Stone Face with Kylie or not. Whether I Saved the Tears or took Baby Steps or didn’t do any of it, it might not matter.

  In third period on Thursday, I got a pass to the restroom. I sat in the stall and decided maybe it would have been better if I’d never experienced friendship. It was almost worse than the bullying, because now I knew what I was missing.

  I missed it so much, I could hardly stand how much it hurt.

  Two things kept me from going all the way back to the way I was my first days there. One was my fifth-period meetings with Mr. Devon and Colin and J. R. R. Tolkien, when I could forget my bullies weren’t as easy to defeat as Orcs. The other was looking forward to my Thursday meeting with Lydia. She might not be able to help me change things, but at least she liked me.