Time for Change

by Varian Johnson

  “Our costumes go with each other!” I said. “Want to guess what we are?”

  “Hmm,” he said, his hand on his chin. “Teagan is a tablet, and you, Gabby …” He paused. “Are you guys a super tablet?” He turned to Mrs. Marshall. “Is that some kind of new gadget I haven’t heard of?”

  “You-You got Teagan right … sort of.” I said. “I’m a b-b-butterfly. Together, we’re a social butterfly! Get it?”

  He laughed. “Oh, well, of course!” Mrs. Marshall said. “Take some candy. And happy Halloween!”

  Teagan grabbed her candy and brushed by me before I’d even put my candy in my bag. She was really eager to get to all the houses this year.

  “Teagan,” I said. “Slow down a little, okay. It’s hard for me to walk so fast with my wings.”

  Teagan didn’t say anything for a moment. Finally, she said, “Sorry—it’s uncomfortable for me to walk slowly in my costume.” She turned to catch up with the others.

  Um … okay. That didn’t even make sense. I was starting to think Teagan didn’t want to be trick-or-treating.

  Across the street, our group was talking to another group of kids while Daddy checked his phone a few feet away. I recognized Bryson and Sondra immediately. They were still wearing their costumes from school.

  “Hey, Gabby,” Sondra said once I’d joined them. “What are you dressed up as now?”

  “A butterfly,” I said, shrugging. “Or maybe a superhero.”

  “Okay,” Sondra said. “That’s, um, interesting.”

  “Well, it’s not as rocking as your school costume was,” one of Sondra’s friends said, just as Daddy stepped to join the circle. “You guys should have totally won first place in the contest.” Teagan had been standing on the outskirts of the group, but now stepped forward, too.

  “Whoa, is that a tablet?” Bryson asked. “That’s a great costume.” He nudged one of the other boys. “Look, it even lights up.”

  Daddy turned to Sondra’s friend. “I heard all about the contest at school, but didn’t get to see Gabby in costume. I would have loved to, after she spent so much time working on it.”

  “It w-w-wasn’t that much time,” I began, looking at Teagan.

  “Hold on, I’ve got a picture right here,” Sondra chimed in, pulling out her phone. “Dressing up in groups was all Gabby and Aaliyah’s idea.” She held her phone up to Daddy.

  Teagan slowly inched over so she could see, too.

  “Wow, Gabby,” Daddy said. “Looks like all that time you and Aaliyah spent on Sunday was worth it, huh?”

  Teagan’s head snapped up, her mouth slightly open.

  Sondra noticed the look on her face as well. “I know, speechless, right?” She flipped through a few more images, then pocketed her phone.

  “Let’s go!” Alejandro said. “My candy bag isn’t going to fill itself!” He took off down the sidewalk with Red, Isaiah, and Bria close behind. Sondra and Bryson took off in the other direction as I waved. I linked my arm in Teagan’s and started forward to follow Alejandro, too, but Teagan’s feet stayed glued to the pavement. I turned around.

  “That’s why you couldn’t come to the carnival on Sunday?” Teagan said. “You were working on your other costume … with Aaliyah?”

  Whoa. Teagan had tears in her eyes.

  “I-I … yeah, I was.” I reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. Nothing made me sadder than watching my best friend cry. “You know how hard I worked to become an ambassador. Our first event had to be awesome, including our costumes.”

  “I know how important the ambassadors are to you.” She shook my hand away. “But that was before I knew you spent all your time working on that costume instead of ours.” She crossed her arms. “Is that why you didn’t have our duet memorized at the mock slam? Were you too busy working with Ms. Perfect?”

  Now I crossed my arms. “Teagan, don’t c-c-c-call her that. It isn’t n-n-nice.”

  “Oh, sorry. I hadn’t realized you two had become such good friends. If you like her so much, why don’t you have her perform in Voices with you, too?”

  “Teagan. You’re o-o-overreacting,” I said. “Who cares what we’re wearing for Halloween?” I held up my candy bucket. “The c-c-c-candy tastes the same no m-m-m-matter what we wear.”

  “Maybe you don’t care. But I do. At least, I did.”

  She pulled out her phone, then pressed a few buttons. “Grandpa? Are you still at Gabby’s? I’m ready to go home.” She marched toward my house.

  I started to run after her, but stopped. She was being ridiculous.

  It was a stupid costume.

  It’s not like we’d be tested on it, or even have to be an example to a whole school in it.

  As Teagan disappeared around the corner, I spun around and caught up with the group. None of my neighbors knew I was a butterfly, but I didn’t care. The candy still tasted the same.

  By Friday at lunchtime, I still hadn’t heard from Teagan.

  I slipped into my chair in the cafeteria and considered pulling out my phone to send her a text. Then I decided against it. I hadn’t done anything wrong. She was the one getting all worked up about a silly costume. We weren’t allowed to have our phones out; I wasn’t going to risk getting in trouble just for her.

  Besides, there was something else on my mind. Even though I’d told myself I would stick with ballet for Mama, that little voice in my head wouldn’t quiet down. The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to quit. I’d have more time for poetry and ambassadors. I had to find a way to tell Mama and Amelia somehow.

  I had another problem, though.

  Ever since I admitted to myself I wanted to quit, I couldn’t get through the “no matter what” verse of my “Dream Big” poem without stuttering like crazy. How was I supposed to get up onstage and talk about never giving up on your dreams when I wanted to give up on one of mine? I was hoping some more rehearsal was all I needed.

  “One more week until Voices,” Aaliyah said when she joined me and saw my poetry notebook on the table. “Ready for your big solo?”

  “Sort of,” I said. “But I’m struggling with a few lines. Do you mind listening to me practice?”

  “Of course. No problem.”

  Isaiah arrived as I opened up my notebook. I handed it to Aaliyah.

  “Okay, here goes,” I said.

  But just like at home, I kept getting tripped up on the lines about pushing on, no matter what. I tried a few of Mrs. Baxter’s techniques, like relaxing my jaw and picturing the words in my head, but they only helped a little. Those lines just wouldn’t come out.

  Aaliyah handed the notebook back to me once I’d finished. “Most of it was good, except for that no-matter-what part. Even when you got your words out, it didn’t sound like your heart was in them. Maybe you should change those lines?”

  I focused on my notebook. If I changed those lines, I’d have to change the rest of the poem, and we had only eight days until the slam. “You know, in poetry group, we usually start with p-p-positive comments first.”

  “I did,” she replied, lacing her fingers together. “I said most of it was good, remember?”

  “You did seem a little flat overall,” Isaiah added. “Is it because of Teagan?”

  I quickly shook my head. I’d filled Aaliyah in about what happened, but I didn’t feel like talking about Teagan right now, or about quitting ballet. Or about anything, really.

  “Have you heard from Teagan yet?” Isaiah asked, not getting the hint.

  “No,” I said, and left it at that.

  “I can’t believe you haven’t talked to her since Tuesday,” he continued. “Have you guys ever gone that long without talking?”

  I shook my head and scooped up a spoonful of soggy creamed corn. The longest we’d gone without talking or texting was that summer after I confronted Teagan for always jumping in when I stuttered. But it only took one day for us to make up then. Not two days and counting. No matter what, though, I’d have to talk to her at
poetry this afternoon. I forced myself to swallow a bite of corn. Somehow, I wasn’t all that hungry today.

  “Maybe Teagan just needs a little time to cool down,” Aaliyah said. “Remember last year, when Riley Mulligan made fun of her beanie? She didn’t talk to him for the entire year.”

  I quickly put my spoon down, causing a few bits of corn to scatter across the table. “That’s t-t-t-t-totally different,” I said. “Riley deserved it. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “I agree,” Aaliyah said. “All I was suggesting was that Teagan seems like the type of kid to hold a grudge for a while.”

  “But she d-d-d-d-doesn’t have any reason to be m-m-mad at me!”

  Isaiah quickly looked around. “Gabby, you’re yelling.”

  I took a deep breath, trying to calm down. “Look, Aaliyah, I kn-know you mean well, but you don’t understand. R-R-Real friends don’t go that long without talking.”

  “But we go two or three days without talking.” Aaliyah shrugged. “Almost every weekend, really.”

  “Well, yeah. But we’re not—”

  I froze as her eyes widened. It was like I’d just tossed a cup of ice-cold water in her face.

  I immediately knew the words had come out wrong. I hadn’t meant it like that. Aaliyah and I were friends—that I was now sure of. But we weren’t best friends. She wasn’t Teagan.

  “Aaliyah,” I began quickly, “I d-d-d-didn’t mean it like that. It’s just … it’s different f-f-from Teagan and me. It’s—”

  Aaliyah held up her hand, silencing me. Then, after patting her bun, she stood up from the table. “I guess I’ll go eat somewhere else. Maybe with my real friends.”

  I half rose from my seat. “Aaliyah …”

  She didn’t look back as she walked off, her head held high.

  I decided to get to poetry group extra early that afternoon, so I’d have time to talk with Teagan beforehand. Maybe she’d apologize for the way she’d acted on Tuesday. Or at least tell me what the big deal was about a silly costume.

  Red arrived in studio six first, then Bria. With two minutes before poetry group, everyone was there and waiting. Everyone except Teagan.

  Red was checking the time, too. His gaze bounced from the wall clock to the door.

  Finally, Red clapped his hands. “It looks like we’re short a team member. No sweat. Let’s break up into groups, and we’ll try to track Teagan down.” He looked at me. “Can you text Teagan to see where she is?”

  “I—um—m-m-maybe you’d better text her.”

  Red gave me an odd look but shot off a text. It only took her a few seconds to reply. Frowning, Red walked over and dropped to the floor beside me. “She’s swamped with homework,” he said. “But she said that you’d already talked to someone about taking her place in Voices.” He put down his phone. “Gabby, what’s going on?”

  Teagan did have a lot of homework, but skipping practice wasn’t like Teagan. It wasn’t fair to the team. It wasn’t fair to me. Was she really that mad at me? And what was she even talking about with someone taking her place?

  “No one’s t-t-t-taking her place,” I said. “But we haven’t talked since Tuesday.”

  “Well, you need to figure out how to squash this,” he said. “The competition is in eight days.”

  I just nodded. He stood there a second, like he was choosing his next words carefully.

  “You’re messing with our Top Three chances right now, Gabby. I’m tempted to pull your duet altogether and have Bria and Isaiah do a duet or something—”

  “Why are you m-m-mad at me?” I asked. “Teagan’s the one sk-skipping. Not me.”

  “Oh, don’t worry,” he said. His face was red. “I’m about to tell her the same thing.” He pointed at me. “You two need to fix this. If not, I will.”

  “I-I know.” I nodded so hard my ponytail whacked my forehead.

  Red finally relaxed and his face went back to normal. “Go ahead and work on whatever you want.” He sighed. “Maybe she’ll change her mind and show up.”

  As I walked over to the wall where Teagan and I usually sat, I couldn’t help but think that as mad as Red was, he’d be even more upset if he knew my “Dream Big” poem was now a dud. I was putting the entire team at risk.

  Of course, if anyone could help me figure out what to do about ballet and my “Dream Big” poem, it was probably Teagan. Talking to my BFF always made me feel better.

  Too bad my BFF wasn’t talking to me.

  I began revising my solo, trying to find something to replace that tricky part, but I kept getting sidetracked. How could I even think about my Big Dreams when it felt like everyone who was important to me was mad? First Teagan, then Aaliyah. And now even Red. Big Dreams were about tomorrow. I could barely focus on today.

  But I knew one thing—I wasn’t going to let my team down at Voices like I’d let Teagan down at our Liberty Bells Battle.

  I would make this right, one way or another, and I knew exactly where to start.

  Tiny, invisible tap dancers were tap-tap-tapping in my stomach as I stood outside Mr. Harmon’s studio at Liberty the next morning. He was placing easels in a circle. All around him, watercolors, papier-mâché, and collage art lined the wall—you name it, Mr. Harmon had made it.

  I could just see the top of Teagan’s head through the high window—she always came to help out with her grandpa’s Saturday classes. She was sitting on the floor, her beanie bouncing as she nodded at whatever she was doing.

  I jumped and let out a yelp as a closet door swung open behind me. A second later, Stan appeared, carrying a push broom. “Sorry to startle you, Gabby. You okay?”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded.

  He glanced at his watch, then looked back toward the studio. “Mr. Harmon’s class starts in a few minutes. You might want to go ahead in there.” Then he winked. “Sometimes you just have to rip the bandage off.”

  “Thanks, Stan.” I was sure he knew Teagan and I were fighting. Stan seemed to know everything that happened at Liberty.

  Taking a deep breath, I knocked on the studio door, then pushed it open. Teagan looked up. She narrowed her gaze at me, then turned her attention back to the color wheel she was painting. It was for Mr. Harmon’s lesson, I was guessing.

  Mr. Harmon smiled at me. “Ah, Gabby. So nice to see you this morning.” He gave off a fake yawn. “I’m going to grab a quick cup of coffee.”

  Teagan jumped to her feet. “I’ll get it for you.”

  “That’s okay,” Mr. Harmon said. “You need to finish that before class starts.”

  Teagan crossed her arms.

  Mr. Harmon just smiled and tugged on Teagan’s beanie. “Be back in a few.”

  He walked out, leaving Teagan and me alone. She picked up the cardboard and moved to a table in the corner—as far away in the room as she could get from me.

  I inched forward. “Teagan, y-y-y-you can’t avoid me forever.”

  “Shouldn’t you be practicing your duet with your new best friend?” she asked, still staring at the poster.

  “Teagan …” I sat down at the table. Slowly, I pulled the color wheel away from her. “Will you p-p-please explain what’s going on? W-W-W-Why are you s-s-s-so mad?”

  The silence that followed felt like whatever the opposite of be-with-you-ness was. Like we were miles apart instead of only a few feet.

  She finally looked up at me. Her eyes were red, and full of tears. “Why did you leave our costume to the last minute like that? Your other costume was so good.”

  I took another deep breath. “Teagan, you know how important the ambassadors program is to me. That was our first official event. I had to participate. I had to give it my best.”

  “But our friendship is important to me,” she stressed. “Don’t you want to give me your best, too?”

  “Of course,” I said. “But Halloween … it’s just a silly holiday. There will be another one n-n-n-next year. We can make even better costumes. I won’t be so b-b
-busy then.”

  She sniffed and wiped her nose. “Are you sure? Or maybe you’ll decide to dress up with Aaliyah instead.”

  “Th-That’s not fair,” I said, sitting back in my chair. “I’m allowed to make new friends.”

  Teagan didn’t say anything to that.

  “Teagan, I know my costume wasn’t as good as yours … but it was about being together, not about making the best costumes.”

  “But do you know how horrible it feels to spend all weekend working on a costume so you won’t let down your best friend in the whole world, just to find out she’s spent the past month making another costume—an even better costume—with someone else?”

  “But I tr-tried to schedule time to w-w-work with you,” I said. “You were busy, too.”

  “Yes, with homework and school projects. But you have all that plus dance classes and ambassadors—and it all came before our Halloween costume.”

  I just sat there for a second, because what Teagan had said was true. I had put everything else before our social butterfly costume. But there was nothing wrong with me doing all those things I love, and I didn’t feel guilty for spending time with Aaliyah. She was my friend.

  Besides, it wasn’t true that schoolwork was the only thing taking up Teagan’s time before Halloween.

  “Well, you weren’t j-j-just working on homework all the time,” I said, crossing my arms. “You had robotics stuff, and the c-c-carnival!”

  Teagan’s face twisted. “If you were really my best friend, you would have realized how much I hated that carnival.”

  I thought back to our conversation outside Liberty. Had that weirdness I felt not been about our poem after all? Had some kid made fun of her at the carnival or something? “But it ssss-sounded fun. You said there was a three-legged race and everything.”

  Somehow, that made Teagan’s face twist up even more.

  I stood there awkwardly for a second. Clearly I was missing something—I just didn’t know what. Was she mad at me for cancelling on the carnival, even though she said she wasn’t? “Teagan, I know it would have been more fun if I was there, and I really wish I could have come with you. It would have been so nice to meet your new friends from Main Line.”