Everything's Changed

by Julie Sternberg

  “Exactly!” I said. “You should be mad at him! Not sad. Don’t be sad.”

  She shrugged. “I don’t want to talk anymore,” she said. “Just take this and leave me alone. Okay?”

  She held out my phone, and I took it.

  “Are you sure I should go?” I said. “I want to stay. I don’t want to go. I could help you finish unpacking.”

  “I’m sure,” she said.

  So I had to go. Because we don’t share a room anymore. Which I am NOT liking right now. I need to know whether Jo is okay.

  Tuesday, February 1

  I just finished my second day of my new school. And two different people invited me to come home with them tomorrow! That’s the good news. But there’s bad news, too. Here’s what happened:

  I got to my classroom at 7:30 this morning. Since that’s when Ms. Chanda said to meet her. She was there already, standing near her desk with Charlie and a tall woman wearing a pretty, long-sleeved dress with high boots.

  “This is Charlie’s mom, Mrs. Larken,” Ms. Chanda told me. “She was just dropping Charlie off.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I said.

  “Nice to meet YOU!” Mrs. Larken said, with a big smile. “It’s so good to have a new student in the class right now—you’ve started at a wonderful time!”

  That made me think, No, actually, I’ve started at a TERRIBLE time! But I didn’t want to disagree with her. She was so nice! And enthusiastic! I just smiled back, and she kissed Charlie goodbye and left.

  Ms. Chanda explained a plan to me then.

  “I’ve asked Charlie if he’d mind helping you get caught up,” she said. “He has a knack for explaining difficult subjects. I’m here if you need me, but I’d like you to count on Charlie, too. Sound okay?”

  “Sure,” I said. Charlie reminded me of his mom, then, smiling at me. Except his face was a little pink. Probably because of Ms. Chanda’s compliments.

  “Perfect,” Ms. Chanda said. “Was there anything in your homework that you had particular trouble with?”

  “Rates of change,” I said.

  “I can help with rates of change!” Charlie said, enthusiastically.

  Charlie and I sat together then and worked on rates of change problems. He really was good at explaining. I actually started to think I might understand.

  But then we got distracted. Because Mary Majors RAN into the room and threw her arms into the air and shouted, “I’m early!” She was just a tiny bit out of breath.

  “Good for you, Mary Majors,” Ms. Chanda said. “Let’s make this a new beginning.”

  “No problem, Ms. Chanda!” Mary Majors said. “I sprinted all eight blocks. I bet I’m faster than my oldest sister. And she won state in the 100, in track.”

  “With a little planning,” Ms. Chanda said, “you wouldn’t even have to sprint.”

  “My sister ran track, too,” I told Mary Majors. “But she definitely did not win state.”

  Lots of kids started arriving then, and a group of girls surrounded Mary Majors. One of them said to her, “Are we still coming over tomorrow?” And another said, “We are, right?” Mary Majors said, “Yes, yes, yes!” as Ms. Chanda told everyone to start taking their seats. And they wandered off.

  I felt a little bad, sitting there, in that moment. Because Mary Majors hadn’t said a single word to me. I’d hoped she’d be super nice again, like she was yesterday. Plus I didn’t love hearing her talk to those girls about getting together after school. I didn’t expect them to include me—I couldn’t even remember the other girls’ names! But still. At my old school, I would’ve had friends to go home with. And here I had nobody.

  Charlie must’ve seen my sadness. He got very serious. “DON’T let them upset you,” he said. Then he said quickly, “You could come home with me tomorrow. If you want. I live close by. We could work on homework.”

  “Thanks!” I told him. It was such a nice thing to do! “I’ll ask my mom—I’m sure she’ll say yes. I live close, too!”

  He gave me a happy smile. Ms. Chanda told us all to take out our science notebooks. And I decided to forget about Mary Majors.

  But a few minutes later, as Ms. Chanda started talking about rocks and soil, a note landed on my desk.

  Come over tomorrow after school! Josie and Bella are. We’ll hide in my sister’s closet and spy on her and her friends. Not the track sister. The weight-lifter, basketball sister. You have to come!

  M&M

  After I read that note I had these thoughts: She invited me!! She still likes me!!

  And: They’re going to spy! I could bring my spy notebook!

  And: How huge is the weight-lifter, basketball sister?!

  Finally I remembered the conversation I’d JUST had. And I passed Mary Majors a note saying, “Sorry! I’m going to Charlie’s.”

  She wrote this back:

  Just tell him you changed your mind. We’re way more fun!

  M&M

  I sent back a note saying, “I can’t. Too mean.”

  And she wrote this back:

  Fine. Choose Rover over us. Woof woof! Just Kidding.

  M&M

  I don’t like that note! I don’t even understand it. Why is she calling Charlie “Rover”? And barking like a dog? Charlie doesn’t look anything like a dog.

  Besides, I like dogs.

  At least she said just kidding. Maybe it’s an inside joke they have?

  I hope she invites me over again.

  A little later

  Huge news!

  Mom just told me that we’re hiring Eye-Della Stone, the Stranger Nurse they interviewed yesterday. She’s moving in Friday, the day after Granny comes back!

  I know we need a Stranger Nurse, and I’m glad Granny will have help. But I’m worried that Mom didn’t do enough research!

  She told me she’d called Eye-Della’s references, and they had excellent things to say.

  “Did you ask about Eye-Della’s personal habits?” I said. Because I had very specifically reminded her to do that.

  “A little,” she said. Which was not an encouraging answer!

  So I asked Mom about as many of Eye-Della’s personal habits as I could think of. And it turns out Mom did NOT find out the answers to these very important questions:

  1) Does Eye-Della Stone ALWAYS close the door when she uses the bathroom?

  2) Does Eye-Della Stone KNOCK before opening closed bathroom doors? And bedroom doors, too?

  3) How often does Eye-Della Stone shower?

  4) How often does Eye-Della Stone get gassy?

  5) Does Eye-Della Stone enjoy cooking stinky foods? Like boiled liver? Or eating disgusting foods, like TONGUE?

  6) When Eye-Della Stone eats fish at home, does she leave the head on? Does she eat its EYES?

  7) Does Eye-Della Stone always remember to flush?

  8) Does Eye-Della clean her ears with her fingers and then look at her own earwax?

  I can tell Mom is not planning to call Eye-Della Stone’s references back to ask these questions. But this woman is going to live with us! We need to know!

  Right after dinner

  Lula and Violet just sent me bad texts! Here’s what they say:

  Lula: did you have a good day today, celie ?

  Me: it was ok. not as good as with both of you.

  Violet: you need friends there, too! how’s mary sergeants?

  Lula: she means mary minors!

  Me: haha, both of you. mary majors invited me over to her house tomorrow with other girls, which was nice. i can’t go tho because i’m going to someone else’s

  Violet: who?

  Me: charlie—in our class and also neighbor.

  Lula: is charlie a boy????

  Me: yes but just a friend!!! NOT a boyfriend, i swear

  Violet: can we talk about jo’s boyfriend? he went BACK to trina’s today! and he brought a COCONUT!

  Me: that’s TERRIBLE!

  Lula: a coconut?

  Violet: jo ate coconut on first date
with jake. and later when they had big fight, jake brought coconut so she forgave him

  Lula: how did i miss all that?

  Me: he shouldn’t bring coconuts to anyone but jo!

  Lula: so he combines coconuts and dating? is he dating trina?

  Violet: he says he’s not. but when I tell him to STOP GOING OVER THERE, he says i don’t know what i’m talking about and should mind my own business. he’s keeping his door closed all the time now, too. definitely keeping a secret.

  Me: i have to tell jo, but I don’t want to tell jo. she’ll be sad!

  Lula: what if you were going out with jake—or charlie!—and they started going out with trina, wouldn’t you want to know?

  Me: I AM NOT GOING OUT WITH CHARLIE!

  Lula: jk, jk, don’t worry

  Me: have to go decide about jo now

  Lula: tell her!

  Violet: then tell us!

  After being a coward

  I went to find Jo. She was smiling so big when I walked in her room! It was the first time I’d seen her smile at all since yesterday’s bad Jake messages.

  Now she sat so happy in her bed, with her phone beside her.

  “Jake just texted,” she said. “He’s coming to visit! Two Sundays from now—the day before Valentine’s Day. I’m so excited—isn’t it exciting?”

  I SHOULD’VE said, “Not exactly. Because he’s already visited Trina, with a coconut.”

  But I wanted her to stay happy. So instead, I just said, “Mmn.”

  She SPRANG out of bed and said, “We need to finish setting up for Granny, right? Let’s go!”

  And we went.

  Mom and Dad had already set up the furniture in Granny’s room. The same arrangement as in our old apartment. Nice and familiar. Mom and I had put away all of Granny’s clothes, too. And made her bed. But there were still important, missing steps.

  First, Jo and I had to find Granny’s white tablecloth with pretty blue flowers. We emptied A LOT of boxes in the living room before Jo found it, in a plastic bag, in the middle of a box full of yearbooks.

  I told Dad he had to iron it. Because it had gotten very crinkly in that box.

  He sang a weird old-timey song while he ironed.

  Then Jo and I draped the tablecloth very neatly over Granny’s desk. Like this: over ranny s desk. Like this:

  We got Dad to hang Granny’s painting of a crushed coffee cup, too. In the spot where it’d hung in her old room.

  And, in a box labeled “Pics,” we found the watercolor I’d painted of Granny when she was younger. She likes to keep it on her nightstand, so we set it there for her.

  After that, Jo and I stood in Granny’s doorway and looked around. The room didn’t look a hundred percent like her old one. This one’s a little narrower, and the closet door is on the wrong side of her desk. But still. It’s as close as we could get. So I said, “Perfect.”

  We had to go back to the living room then and put lots of things away. So Granny wouldn’t get overwhelmed by boxes or mess. Or trip on anything.

  Jo started singing “It’s a Hard-Knock Life,” from Annie, as we cleaned up. I joined right in.

  We used to sing Annie songs together all the time, when we were little. We haven’t done that in a very long time.

  Maybe I should’ve talked to Jo about Jake instead of singing with her about cotton blankets instead of wool. But I really did not want to.

  Wednesday, February 2, just before dinner

  Today Jo and I went to school without a grownup for the first time in our whole lives! Mom and Dad let us walk together, since it’s only four blocks.

  “This is great, right?” I said to Jo, as we walked along.

  She nodded and said, “Now they just have to let me ride the subway by myself. Practically every sixth grader I’ve ever met gets to do that.”

  Then she said, “It’d be so much easier to see Jake, if I could take the subway alone.”

  And THEN we passed the yummy-smelling bakery about a block from us. And she said, “This place looks so good. Jake and I should definitely come here when he visits, don’t you think?”

  I could’ve just said, “Sure.” A big part of me wanted to just say, “Sure.” Since I didn’t want to ruin our nice walk.

  But a bigger part of me didn’t want to lie to Jo. And it felt like a big lie to let her keep thinking nice things about Jake. So I went ahead and said, “I have bad news about Jake.”

  “What are you talking about?” she said.

  “Jake went to Trina’s again yesterday,” I told her. “He brought her a coconut. Violet texted me about it.”

  “Why would he go there again—and with a COCONUT? That makes no sense.”

  Before I could even say, “I know,” she kept going.

  “I ASKED him what he did yesterday after track,” she said. “He didn’t say ANYTHING AT ALL about Trina. What is he doing?”

  “I don’t kn—” I started to say. Again, she just kept going.

  “Are you SURE he brought a coconut? I think maybe you misunderstood.”

  “I READ it,” I said. “What other word looks like coconut?”

  She didn’t say anything then.

  I started thinking about what Lula had said—about how I would feel if I was dating somebody who went to another girl’s house and lied to me about it and brought her presents (even weird presents) that meant something between the two of us. I wouldn’t like it AT ALL. I wasn’t liking Jake at all—he wasn’t treating Jo right.

  So I said to Jo, “I think you should break up with him. I think Lula thinks that, too.”

  Jo stopped on the sidewalk outside of school then and said, “Wait—WHAT? What does Lula have to do with this? Did you have long talks with HER about me and Jake? AGAIN?”

  She sounded so mad, but I hadn’t done anything wrong! Of course Lula knew.

  “She was on the texts,” I told Jo. “The ones Violet sent. There were no long talks.”

  “You have to STOP gossiping about MY BUSINESS with the WHOLE WORLD!” Jo cried. “You and Lula and Violet don’t know anything about anything!” She paused, red-faced and big-eyed, and pointed at me and said, “Nobody even LIKES you!”

  Then she rushed away from me, toward school.

  That was MEAN, I thought.

  People like me, I thought.

  Then I shouted at Jo, “I SHOULD’VE WALKED HERE WITH MOM OR DAD!”

  She ignored me, yanked open the door of the school, and stomped inside.

  I tried to think of people who like me, other than Lula and Violet. And Mom and Dad and Granny, who have to like me.

  I was feeling pretty unliked when someone behind me said, “Wow, New Girl. What HAPPENED?”

  I turned, and there was Mary Majors, looking concerned. And interested.

  “Hey,” I said.

  I wanted to ask her, “Does anyone at this new school like me?” But that was too weird.

  Instead I said, “You’re early.”

  She shrugged. “My mom says if I get another detention she’ll take the door off my bathroom. She doesn’t care that I share it with my sisters, and that everyone could watch all of us pee. She says she’ll do it anyway.”

  “Yuck!” I said. And I thought, My mom would never do that.

  Mary Majors kept talking. “That was your older sister, just now, yelling at you,” she said. “Right?”

  I nodded and felt my face go red and wondered how much she’d heard.

  “Come on,” she said. She tugged on my arm, pulling me toward school. “You have to tell me everything. I have two older sisters. I can help—I know I can.”

  I walked with her, but I told her, “I can’t tell you the whole story. I really can’t. Jo does NOT want me talking about it.”

  “But she’s made YOU upset, right?” Mary Majors said.

  “So?” I said.

  “So she’s not allowed to make you upset AND say you can’t get help from other people, by talking through what happened. That’s not fair. M
y sisters used to do that all the time. I don’t listen anymore.”

  She’s right—it’s NOT fair, I thought.

  “Plus I’m really good at keeping secrets, I swear,” Mary Majors said. She raised her hand like she was taking an oath and looked very serious. Then she held the door to the school open for me. We saw other kids then, in the foyer and lobby. She stepped close to me, and whispered, “Don’t say anything now.” Reminding me that they’d be able to hear. Which was thoughtful of her.

  Then she whispered, “I have the perfect secret spot.” And she hurried off down the hall.

  I followed her. And I tried to decide what I could tell her.

  Finally I realized this: Mary Majors didn’t know Jake at all. So she couldn’t possibly say the wrong thing to him. The way Violet or Lula might (according to Jo). So maybe I could say what I wanted to Mary Majors. Especially if she was good at keeping secrets. Plus I knew I’d be distracted all day long if I didn’t talk this through with somebody. And I needed to be able to focus! I was already having enough trouble understanding things like rates of change and annotations!

  At least Mary Majors was someone to talk to.

  She pulled me into a girls’ bathroom then.

  “This spot is not secret,” I told her.

  “Hold on,” she said. She checked all the stalls and said, “Empty. Perfect.”

  Then she took a marker and paper out of her backpack and wrote a note like this:

  HEALTH VIOLATIONS IN HERE. PROPER AUTHORITIES CALLED. USE OTHER BATHROOM.

  “What a great sign!” I said.

  “My oldest sister taught me,” she said. “Hold on—I have to tape this.”

  She took tape out of her backpack, stuck her head out the door and looked up and down the hallway, then quickly taped up the sign.

  After she came back in, she leaned against the door and said, “Tell me everything.”

  I had to tell her everything then. She’d gone to so much trouble!