The Friendship Matchmaker Goes Undercover

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The Friendship Matchmaker Goes Undercover Page 10

by Randa Abdel-Fattah


  Chapter 26

  I was pretty sure that not a single person in class understood what Majur had been through. Not even Ms. Pria. Until ten thirty-five on Monday morning. It was at that moment that a tiny window of insight opened into Majur’s life. And if the rest of the class felt like me, they’ll probably never be the same again.

  After calling the roll Ms. Pria told us we were going to read parts of The Secret Garden before doing a comprehension exercise. Omar was handing out the class set of books. Ms. Pria had ordered us not to talk, and the class was silent except for the sound of Omar placing the books on each desk. Suddenly the quiet was interrupted by the blaring, piercing sound of the fire alarm.

  Majur, who was sitting near the window, screamed, leaped out of his chair, and scrambled under his desk, covering his head with his arms. Nobody—not Chris, Ty, A. J., or Tony—said a word. We all sat, horrified, searching Ms. Pria’s face for an explanation. Majur was sobbing loudly. Ms. Pria rushed toward him, yelling out to us above the sound of the siren to line up in front of the classroom door in single file. Nobody argued with her.

  Then Mr. Muñoz’s voice came over the loudspeaker reminding teachers that nobody was to leave their classroom, that they were testing the fire alarm. The alarm stopped. I looked over at Ms. Pria. Her face was filled with guilt and frustration.

  She lifted Majur up off the floor. His hands were still over his ears. “Omar, finish handing out the books. I want silent reading for the next fifteen minutes.”

  She led Majur outside the classroom.

  We were too stunned to talk.

  Majur didn’t come to class for the rest of the day. I asked Ms. Pria where he was and she said he’d gone home early but that he’d be back tomorrow.

  There were murmurs in class all day. Why had Majur flipped out like that? What had he gone through that he’d be scared of a fire alarm? Would he come back to school? Tanya suggested to Emily and me that when he returned we could take him aside and explain fire drills to him.

  Emily scrunched up her nose. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea. The teachers will probably do that now anyway. If we do it, Majur might feel even worse about what happened.”

  Emily was right. If there was one thing I knew about Majur it was that he didn’t like being treated differently. If we acted like we felt sorry for him, that would make him feel even more alone and out of place.

  “Let’s just see what happens when he gets back,” I said.

  But Majur didn’t come to class the next day.

  The following day when the bell rang, we lined up in front of our classroom waiting for Ms. Pria to unlock the door and let us in. She was waiting for the second bell to signal that we could enter class. The rule was that you couldn’t be in classrooms before the second bell. A couple of kids were racing to join the line before the second bell. If they arrived after it rang, Ms. Pria could give them a late slip.

  As we waited I looked at the class window. It was bright and colorful, covered with our artwork and certificates with notices like 100% Attendance in Term 1, or I Participated in the Walkathon! My favorite was the certificates in the shape of bees for I Caught You Beeing Good! Those were handed out when a teacher saw you doing something nice, like picking up trash without being asked, or sitting quietly with your “listening ears clicked on” during assembly. I wondered what Majur must have thought of all this. How strange and weird it must seem.

  I looked around but I couldn’t see him. The second bell rang and we filed into class. When the last kid, Jackson, rushed in, Ms. Pria went to close the door but Chris suddenly appeared, jamming it with his foot. He was holding a large tray of cupcakes decorated in green and white icing with little edible soccer balls on top of each one.

  “I couldn’t run to make it before the bell because of these,” he said, motioning to the cupcakes. “It’s my birthday today.” Chris grinned, and Ms. Pria smiled at him.

  “Okay, well, I’ll make an exception for your lateness seeing as it’s your birthday and you’ve brought everybody a treat.”

  Majur was right behind Chris, panting heavily. He must have been running to make it in time too. I knew Majur had heaps of late slips, even with Ms. Pria giving him lots of chances, because he was still getting used to arriving on time.

  “Sorry, I late,” he said, walking in behind Chris. “I . . . I was helping Chris . . . um . . . with the cake.”

  Chris shot Majur a look of surprise. Majur didn’t flinch. He just stared back at Chris. Slowly, Chris’s face broke out into a grin.

  “Yeah, he was helping me,” he said. “I thought I’d drop them so I asked him to walk with me in case I did. My mom stayed up late making them. She’d kill me if I wrecked them.”

  Majur smiled to himself. It looked to me like Ms. Pria knew what they were up to, but she took the tray of cupcakes from Chris and put them on her desk.

  “Okay, Chris. And Majur, you’re off the hook today too,” she said. “But only today. Now take your seats.”

  “Thanks, Miss,” Majur said gratefully.

  “What happened to you yesterday?” Chris asked as they passed my seat. I froze, praying Chris wasn’t going to say something nasty to Majur, or that Majur would get upset.

  But Majur looked almost relieved that Chris had asked him. “I slept too long. Then I could not feel like coming school. Every day. They want us every day.” He shook his head, bewildered. “It’s so much.”

  “Tell me about it.” Chris groaned.

  “What’s a hook?” Majur asked Chris, sitting down at the table beside mine. Chris sat at the table in front.

  “Huh?” Chris said, turning to face Majur.

  “Ms. Pria said we’re ‘off the hook.’”

  I covered my mouth with my hand so they couldn’t see me grinning.

  “Don’t know exactly,” Chris said, puzzled. “I guess it just means you’re not in trouble.”

  Majur smiled. “So if I say you’re on the hook at soccer at lunchtime today does that make sense?”

  Chris grinned. “Yeah. It makes sense. But it’s not gonna happen.”

  Majur grinned back. “Okay. We’ll play. And we’ll see. I will try less hard because your birthday and you must not be on the hook too much.”

  Chris let out a hoot of laughter. “This is going to be fun.”

  And that’s how Majur and Chris finally became friends.

  “Do you want me to show you a cool trick you can do with a straw?” Emily asked in class. We were working in groups answering a quiz on ancient Egypt.

  “Sure,” I said with a smile. Emily grinned back at me and then flattened the end of the straw between her teeth and took a pair of scissors out of her pencil case. She cut the end in the shape of a V and then, when she was sure Ms. Pria’s back was turned to us, she clenched the straw tightly between her lips and blew. The straw let out a horrible, loud sound. We clamped our hands over our ears but burst out laughing.

  Ms. Pria immediately turned around. “What was that noise?”

  Emily quickly hid the straw in her lap and pretended to be concentrating on her work. She sneaked a peek at Tanya and me, grinned, and winked. Tanya burst into laughter and I couldn’t help but giggle too.

  I realized then that it’d been a long time since I’d made Tanya laugh. Because I’d been too busy helping other people. Not just because I cared about them, but because it had made me feel good about myself. Because when I was in control of other people I could forget that I couldn’t control my own friendships. That friendship wasn’t something you controlled.

  Emily hadn’t stolen Tanya from me. Tanya didn’t belong to me. Tanya chose to step away from me because I’d turned my back on her.

  There was a reason Emily Wong’s personality was like the color white.

  When you mix white with any color it lightens the original color. And that’s what Emily did with people, especially Tanya. She made her laugh and raised her spirits.

  And there was no reason why the three of us
couldn’t laugh together.

  After all, my personality was like the color black. Not just because, once upon a time, I thought I had power in the playground, but because if you mix black with another color, suddenly there’s a shadow. I think I gave people shadows to hide in when they were hurting and lonely. When they needed privacy and space away from the glaring rainbow of the playground. But that only works for so long.

  It was time for me to come out of my own shadow of fear and insecurity and remember that I loved Tanya and Emily. And that they loved me.

  Acknowledgments

  Dyan Blacklock, Gina Inverarity, Celia Jellett: it is a joy working with you all. Thank you to my agent, Sheila Drummond, who understands me so well, and thank you to Desiree Sinclair and Sally Ahmed for their advice. Some of the inspiration for this book came to me when I was running a creative writing workshop with students at the Immigration Museum in Melbourne, Australia, as part of the Melbourne Writers Festival. I would like to thank the students and the Immigration Museum for offering me such a stimulating day.

  Also by Randa Abdel-Fattah

  The Friendship Matchmaker

  Copyright © 2012 by Randa Abdel-Fattah

  All rights reserved.

  You may not copy, distribute, transmit, reproduce, or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (including without limitation electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, printing, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

  First published in Australia in 2012 by Omnibus Books, an imprint of Scholastic Australia

  Published in the United States of America in August 2013

  by Walker Books for Young Readers, an imprint of Bloomsbury Publishing, Inc.

  E-book edition published in 2013

  www.bloomsbury.com

  For information about permission to reproduce selections from this book, write to Permissions, Walker BFYR, 1385 Broadway, New York, New York 10018. Bloomsbury books may be purchased for business or promotional use. For information on bulk purchases please contact Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at [email protected]

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data available upon request

  eISBN: 978-0-8027-3524-9 (e-book)

 

 

 


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