Sunny and I get down to breakfast first. We’re sipping fresh-squeezed grapefruit juice and looking through the stack of catalogs her mom keeps on the counter.
I have a sense of energy I haven’t felt in a while. If my mood is this great after last night’s conversation with Yamir, imagine how I would feel if things were actually perfect with us again.
I know in my brain that my life shouldn’t revolve around Yamir. I should be able to be okay without him. I should be able to feel happy even if things aren’t great between us.
Still, I’ll enjoy the moment. I’ll enjoy how I’m feeling right now.
A few minutes later Yamir comes down to breakfast. He’s wearing mesh shorts and his Old Mill Middle School soccer shirt. It’s torn and faded and looks like something a hip store would sell for a lot of money because it looks vintage.
“Yo,” he says, not looking at anyone. He slumps down in the chair and pours himself a cup of juice. He starts reading Mrs. Ramal’s Chadwicks catalog like it’s the most interesting thing he’s ever seen.
“Sleep well?” I ask, and he kicks me under the table.
“Yeah, like a baby.” He looks up from the catalog and smirks. I love that smirk.
Mrs. Ramal brings over a sizzling platter of pancakes and we dig in. Well, I try to dig in. Normally I just eat and eat until I’m so stuffed it’s hard to walk. But today is different. Today it’s hard to eat around Yamir, and he notices.
“Luce-Juice, not hungry for the Ramal family favorite?”
“I’ve already had one pancake.” It’s kind of a lie because I’ve only had a few bites, but I doubt he’s going to look at my plate that closely.
Sunny gives me a strange look and Yamir keeps eating.
“Well, I’m out of here. Basketball practice.”
“How do you plan to get there?” Mrs. Ramal asks him.
“Clint’s pops is driving us,” he says, and just like that he’s out of the kitchen. It’s like our conversation last night never happened.
All at once I feel like the tires on my old bicycle. The day we got the bike they were sparkly, shiny, full of air. Now they’re deflated and dusty in the corner of my garage. I shouldn’t rest so much of my happiness on Yamir. If things are good, I feel great. And if they’re bad, I feel horrid.
It’s an unpredictable, broken, dangerous, seesaw way of living.
As we’re finishing breakfast, Sunny’s phone rings. It’s Evan.
“Hold on a second. Let me ask Lucy,” she says. “Evan wants to know if we want to go to the mall with him and those twins?”
“What twins?” I ask.
“You know, the new ones. Travis and Gavin or something?”
I think about my options. Do I want to go to the mall with them and probably have an okay time while thinking about Yamir most of the day? Or do I want to go home and spend all day thinking about Yamir and doing nothing?
My first option is way better. Plus, it’s so nice that Sunny is including me. She’s way better than she was last summer, when I felt left out.
“Sure. Sounds good.”
Sunny gets back on the phone. “We’re in. My mom will drop us off by Dreamer’s Bar and Grill in, like, an hour.”
“I’m the chauffeur, the chef, the butler, the maid,” Mrs. Ramal says under her breath. “At least I know I’m needed around here.” She laughs, so I know she’s not mad.
“The pancakes were delicious as always,” I tell her. “You can open up a bed-and-breakfast one day. I mean, when Sunny and Yamir are all grown up.”
She smiles. “I’ll consider it. Thanks, Lucy.”
Sunny and I go upstairs to change—and I realize I have no clothes here. We came straight from the spa, and I didn’t expect to go to the mall today.
“I need to borrow clothes again,” I tell her.
“Take whatever you want.” She’s in the bathroom putting on eyeliner. She’s not very good at it, so it takes her a while.
“Why are you being so nice to me?” I ask her when she gets out.
“Huh? What do you mean?”
I sit down on her bed. “I mean, you let me tag along with you and Evan, you lend me your clothes, you were quick on your feet suggesting that sleepover because you knew I didn’t want to go to Scotty’s with that group.”
“My brother’s a doofus. So I guess I feel partially responsible for all your suffering. Plus you’re my best friend, and I love you.” She throws a hooded sweatshirt at me. “Here, wear this. I know it’s your favorite.”
It’s just a simple gray hoodie, but she’s right—it is my favorite. Something about the way it’s worn in and how it’s not light gray but not dark gray either.
“Can I do your makeup before we go?”
Sunny glares at me. “Lucy. Hello. This is not last year. I don’t need a confidence boost. I’m feeling pretty good these days.”
“I know.” I go to her bathroom and grab her makeup bag. “This is for me. I’m a ball of stress, and I think doing your makeup will calm me down.”
Sunny rolls her eyes. “Fine. Anything for you. But not too much.”
She sits in the swivel chair at her white vanity table and faces me. It only takes a few brushes of blush, and I’m calmer.
Things may be weird with Yamir, but at least I have Sunny. After all we’ve been through, Sunny is still by my side. Best friends are more important than boyfriends, anyway. Everyone needs a best friend, and I’m so glad she’s mine.
Lucy’s tip for surviving eighth grade:
Do your homework, but make time for fun too.
When we get to the mall, Evan and the twins are already there.
“Hello, ladies,” Evan says, like he’s a fifty-year-old man. He’s like a miniature dad, but I guess that’s what Sunny likes about him. Even his long-sleeved polo looks like something my dad would wear.
We say hi, and Sunny and Evan do this shoulder-nudge thing they always do. It’s kind of cute and less awkward than a kiss when others are around.
“Lucy, you know Travis and Gavin, right?”
I nod. “Do you guys ever go by Trav and Gav?”
They look at me a little oddly at first, but then they laugh.
“You guys are in band, right?” I ask them.
“Yup. He plays sax and I play clarinet,” one of them says, pointing to the other. They’re identical, and I don’t think I should even try to tell them apart. I’ll never succeed.
“Cool. I play the flute.”
“I’ve seen you around,” one of them says, and I’m not sure what to make of that. I guess it’s nice to be noticed even by someone you’ve never spoken to.
We wander around, and then the boys decide to go to the arcade.
“We’ll wait for you out here,” Sunny tells them. “We’re not really into video games.”
As soon as they’re far enough away, Sunny turns to me. “Travis likes you,” she says. “Evan just whispered that to me.”
“Is he the one who plays the sax or the clarinet?”
Sunny bursts out laughing and I do too. I’m not sure why that was funny, but it was.
“You can’t tell them apart?” Sunny asks.
“Nope. Can you?”
“Um, kind of, but only because Travis always wears plainer T-shirts and Gavin always wears something with a sports team on it.”
“Okay. I’ll try to keep that in mind.” Soon we’re both out of control cracking up, unable to stop. That always happens with Sunny and me. It starts with something just a little bit funny and then it turns into something completely hilarious.
The boys come out of the arcade because they ran out of money and find us sitting on the bench, laughing.
“What’s so funny?” Gavin asks. I know it’s him because he’s the one wearing a Knicks T-shirt.
“They’re always laughing,” Evan explains. “Girls. You know how it is.”
I look more closely at Travis as we walk. He’s wearing a red hoodie. His hair is long in the front, and it’s a
mixture of red and brown. Could he be cute? I’m not sure. But it’s funny how once you hear that someone likes you, they immediately seem cuter.
“So, where’d you guys move from?” I ask Travis when we’re on our way to the food court. Gavin seems to only be interested in talking to Evan about sports, and I can tell that it’s annoying Sunny. He just keeps going on and on about some game that happened in 1994. We weren’t even born yet!
“Chicago,” he says. “My dad got a new job.”
“Oh, my sister goes to Northwestern,” I tell him. “Do you miss it?”
He shrugs. “Kinda. I miss my friends.”
“You’ll make friends here,” I tell him. “Just give it a little while.”
“I know. I just need time to adjust, I think.”
Wow. I never knew boys thought about this kind of stuff. Travis seems unusually nice.
“Have you lived here your whole life?” he asks me.
“Yup. I think it’s the best town in the world. You’ll like it. Just wait until summer—that’s when it’s really the best.”
“Really?” he asks, and we make eye contact. His eyes are green with little brown specks. It almost looks like someone painted them that way.
“Yeah. Definitely. And it’s hard to tell how great a place is in the winter. I mean, I know you moved in September, but still. You need to see Old Mill in the summer to really appreciate it.”
“Okay, I can’t wait.”
We get in line at Hotdogger & Co., and Evan starts to tell Travis and Gavin all about the hot-dog-eating contest last summer.
“It was crazy,” he says. “You would not believe how many hot dogs Lucy ate.”
“How many?” Travis asks me.
“Like, fifteen, maybe?” I say, half-embarrassed, half-proud.
He high-fives me. “That’s insanely awesome.”
This Travis kid is growing on me. And even though it’s only been a few hours, I can totally tell the twins apart now.
We stay at the mall until five in the afternoon, and then Sunny’s mom calls and says she has to pick us up because they have dinner plans.
“We gotta go,” Sunny tells the boys. “My parents are going out tonight, so this is our only ride.”
“Oh, party at Sunny’s house!” Gavin says. I’m getting the feeling that he may be the wilder one of the two.
“Nah, not tonight.” Sunny smiles. “I’ll keep it in mind for another night, though.”
I can’t imagine Sunny throwing a party. Maybe Yamir. But Sunny, no.
We’re waiting for Sunny’s mom to pick us up, and the boys are waiting for Evan’s mom. This weekend was not at all what I expected when school ended on Friday. I don’t know what I expected exactly, but it wasn’t this. Erica and Zoe at the spa, an impromptu sleepover at Sunny’s, a middle-of-the-night talk with Yamir, and then a mall day with a new boy who may have a crush on me.
I know I’m going to have trouble falling asleep again tonight.
Lucy’s tip for surviving eighth grade:
Be polite even when you don’t feel like it.
Mrs. Deleccio finds me as soon as I get to school Monday morning.
“Lucy, the school board tells me they’ll have a final decision this afternoon. They’d like all of you to meet with them at 3:45 in the school library. Can you do that?”
I run over my schedule in my head; I don’t have anything going on. “Sure. I think so.”
“Okay, great. I’ll try to tell the others, but if you see them before I do, please let them know.”
“Okay, thanks.”
She caught me off guard, and I had to think for a minute to figure out what decision she was talking about. But of course this is the big moment for our green cafeteria plan! Now I have to get through the rest of the day wondering what the decision is going to be.
If it was bad news, they probably wouldn’t want to meet with us. They’d just e-mail or something. But if it was good news, would they really need a meeting? They could just say that everything looks perfect, and we could move on from there.
I have no idea what the decision will be.
And I won’t see Sunny until third period. Today is a gym day, so our regular schedule is different. We’re not in the same gym class. And I have band and she has orchestra.
I walk into the band room, and Travis is the first person I see.
I had fun with him Saturday, but Sunny’s comment about his crush on me is irking me a bit. I mean, I don’t even know if it’s true. But if it is true, I don’t know what to do about it. I still like Yamir. He drives me totally crazy, but he’s Yamir. He’s in a class of his own. I can’t abandon all hope that things will work out between us.
“Hi, Lucy,” Travis says.
“Hey.” At the mall he seemed cuter and I felt chattier. But now, in the band room on a Monday morning, I wish he wouldn’t talk at all. Maybe it’s the fluorescent lighting, or the fact that my stomach is already grumbling because I’m hungry for lunch. But I just had a snack on the way to class, so it can’t be hunger.
My grumbling stomach must be from nervousness. Talking to Travis is making me nervous. This can’t be good.
“Your mall is cool,” he says, and I nod, and then he goes over to his seat in the clarinet section.
I was rude. I know I was. But sometimes it’s too early to talk to someone you don’t know that well. Making conversation takes energy. And I’m not a morning person.
Mr. Flagg stands up in front of the band and tells us that we need to take things more seriously. “Take time with your instruments. Don’t just throw them in your locker or under a pile of laundry,” he says. “Take time to get to know them. Don’t consider practicing a chore.”
I look over at Travis as Mr. Flagg is talking. The rest of the band is mumbling to each other and not paying attention, but Travis actually seems to care.
I shouldn’t have dismissed him a few minutes ago. He seems to be different from all the other boys at school.
When I get to lunch, everyone’s already at the table. Annabelle is picking at her wrap, and Georgina has a steaming plate of cafeteria pasta in front of her. Sunny’s eating an Indian dish that her mom must have made for dinner the night before.
“Hey,” I mumble, still tired.
“We have the perfect plan for you,” Eve says, picking all the onions out of her salad. “We heard what happened.”
I start to think back over the weekend, but I’m not sure what she’s talking about. Then I realize—Travis. They’ve heard he likes me, and they probably think I’m the worst person ever.
“If you and Yamir ever want to hang out alone, you can just go to the spa after hours!” Eve makes this declaration like it’s the answer to all the world’s problems, like she just came up with the solution for peace in the Middle East.
“Oh, um, right.” I smile and unwrap my sandwich.
“You have a key, right?” Eve asks.
I nod. “I do. Good idea. Thanks, Eve.”
It’s clear she’s trying to help me. I guess she’s worried that Yamir and I don’t have enough alone time. And since Eve is so obsessed with boyfriends and high school and basically anything grown-up, I get why she’s all revved up about this.
“What do you think he’s going to get you for Valentine’s Day?” Annabelle asks, getting a tiny dot of mayonnaise in the corner of her mouth.
“Valentine’s Day? Isn’t that, like, pretty far away?” I ask. It feels like Christmas and Hanukkah were yesterday.
Georgina twirls some pasta around her fork, but it’s hard to do with a cheap plastic one. It’ll be better when we have the reusable metal forks. If we have them, I should say. If the school board says yes tonight. “Lucy, it’s the second week of January,” Georgina says. “It’s going to be here before you know it. And it’s a really big deal when you have a boyfriend. You can’t forget about it.”
“Thanks, Georgina. I won’t.” I look at Sunny and hope she can read my eyes. What has gotten into these gir
ls? It seems like all they want to do is give me relationship advice.
“We’re just jealous,” Annabelle admits. “I know that most people hide their jealousy, but we don’t.”
“Be jealous of Sunny!” I say, louder than I’d planned. “She has a boyfriend too, you know.”
“Lucy!” Sunny says. “You just yelled, and now Mr. Davenport is coming over.”
“What’s the trouble, girls?” He asks. The ink from his pen has seeped through the pocket of his button-down shirt. He’s like the nerdy teacher on every TV show ever made.
“Nothing. Sorry for yelling, Mr. D.” I smile at him. “We’ll be quieter.”
“Thank you, Lucy.” He stays for a minute or two just to make sure everything’s actually fine, I guess. And then he walks away.
“Sorry I yelled,” I whisper. “I guess all I’m saying is that it’s cool to have a boyfriend and stuff. But you’ll have boyfriends soon enough, and it’s weird when people are jealous of you. Plus, it’s not like having a boyfriend is the be-all and end-all of the world.” I heard my mom use that expression once, but I’m not totally sure what it means.
They look at me suspiciously, so I decide to drop the topic. Sunny pats my leg under the table. It’s good that she’s on my side, or at least knows what’s going on. But I wonder how long she’s going to let me keep up the charade that Yamir and I are a model couple.
When I decided I needed to have the most perfect end to middle school, this was definitely not what I had in mind. But when I made that decision, I didn’t know that Yamir would disappear on me.
“We also heard about Travis,” Eve adds, clearly not interested in talking about anything other than boys. “The whole thing kind of reminds me of this book I read a few months ago—the girl had to choose between two cute boys, and it was so tragic. But anyway, I guess Travis doesn’t know that you’re going out with the cutest boy in Old Mill.”
“Eve!” Sunny’s the one yelling now. “Stop! My brother. Gross.”
PG03. Pink & Green is the New Black Page 5
