The Kindness Club: Designed by Lucy

by Courtney Sheinmel

  “Yeah, but I’m done now.”

  Serena had barely had more than half a stick and a couple fries, but she balled up her napkin and put it atop her plate.

  “Who are your friends in Mr. Goldfarb’s class?” I asked her. “I mean, besides Vanessa?”

  “Katie Hartman and Kai Williams,” she said. “And Kris Polakov, too.”

  “So anyone whose name starts with a K,” Chloe said.

  “Oh, yeah,” Serena said. “I never noticed that, but I think they’re the only K names in class and I’m friends with them all.”

  “I’m glad there’s a boy in there,” Theo said. “I’m always surrounded by girls.”

  “Why does it matter?” Serena asked. “He’s not at this table.”

  “And you love being surrounded by girls,” I said quickly. Theo had almost blown our cover. Then again, I’d almost blown our cover a couple times, too. “Anyway, let’s keep playing,” I said.

  “Actually, I should probably go,” Serena said. “Mr. Dibble wants me to stop by his office again. He said I should eat first and it’d be okay if I was late to class after, but I don’t want to be late. Everyone will look at me if I walk in late.”

  She scraped her chair back and lifted her tray. “But would it be okay if I sit with you guys again tomorrow?”

  “Yes, of course,” Theo said.

  I grinned. “Absolutely.”

  CHAPTER 17

  Vanessa caught up with us at the end of lunch, when Chloe, Theo, and I were bringing our trays over to the conveyor belt. “Hey,” she said. “Do you know where Serena went?”

  “To Mr. Dibble’s office.”

  “She saw him yesterday.”

  “She said he wanted her to stop by again today.”

  “Oh,” Vanessa said.

  It was weird to know information about Serena that Vanessa didn’t have. I think we both felt awkward about it. I stepped back so she could drop her tray on the conveyor belt. “So, Vanessa,” I said. “There’s something else I wanted to tell you. I—well, we, meaning Chloe, Theo, and me. Have you met Chloe, by the way?”

  “No, not yet.”

  “Vanessa, this is Chloe. Chloe, this is Vanessa.”

  They said hi to each other, and I was about to tell Vanessa the next part—about the party we were organizing for Serena, but I didn’t get a chance because then came Monroe Reeser. She was carrying a tray of her own, but she made no move to place it on the conveyor belt. Instead, she balanced it on one hand, and put her other hand on her hip.

  It occurred to me that there are certain kids who can do that, hold a tray in one hand; and there are other kids whose trays would topple over if they tried. But Monroe is not the kind of person whose tray ever topples over. It’s like even gravity is afraid to mess with her.

  “I know you’re in the business of stealing friends, Lucy,” she said to me, and her eyes flashed to Chloe for an instant. “But don’t even try to steal Serena from Vanessa.”

  “I wasn’t stealing her!” I said.

  “She couldn’t if she wanted to,” Theo said. “Serena doesn’t belong to Vanessa. People don’t belong to other people. Unless you’re talking about parents and kids, and then, from a purely custodial standpoint, I suppose they do. But even parents can’t control who their kids want to be friends with. There are a lot of factors that go into it, and only one of them is familial acceptance.”

  “I didn’t ask for your opinion,” Monroe told him. “Don’t let us catch you talking to Serena again.”

  Serena had asked if she could sit with us again tomorrow, and I wasn’t going to let Monroe bully me into not letting her. “But—” I started.

  “It’s okay,” Vanessa said. “Theo’s right. Serena is allowed to be friends with whoever she wants to be friends with. I don’t own her.”

  She looked so sad, almost as sad as Serena had looked at lunch, and I knew I needed to say something to make her feel better. “She’s still your friend,” I said. “She’s still your best friend. She even called you her best friend when we were talking at lunch.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. In fact, I’m glad you caught me because there’s something about Serena we need to talk to you about. We called you last night.”

  “My mom said someone called. She didn’t write down the name, though. It was you?”

  “It was all of us,” I said. I could feel Monroe watching me, waiting to hear what I was about to say. I didn’t want to talk about Serena’s party in front of her, because then she’d be on the invite list. But I didn’t think there was any way to avoid it. “We’re planning a party for her—for her birthday.”

  Jesse Freeman stepped over with his tray. “Excuse me, guys,” he said. “You’re sort of blocking things here.”

  “Sorry,” Chloe said.

  The group of us shuffled to the side of the conveyor belt. “Ah, so that’s why she wanted to sit with you,” Monroe said to me. “Because you were bribing her.”

  “No,” I said. “Serena doesn’t even know about it. It’s a total surprise.”

  “I’m not sure if she wants a party,” Vanessa said. “Birthdays were kind of her mom’s thing.”

  “I spoke to her aunt the other day.”

  “You talked to Odessa.”

  “Mmm hmm,” I said. “And she thought a party was a great idea. She was happy we were doing it. And at lunch today, we got a little bit of information out of Serena. Just details to make it the kind of party she’d want, like her favorite color for the balloons.”

  “Green,” Vanessa said. “She likes green.”

  “Yup, and she said chocolate is her favorite cake flavor.”

  “With vanilla icing,” Vanessa said.

  “Oh, good to know. Also she said she doesn’t eat meat, but do you know if she likes pizza? Or is there any other food we should have?”

  “She likes pizza,” Vanessa said. “Pizza would be good.”

  “Cool.”

  “I know Serena is friends with Kai, Katie, and Kris from your class. Is there anyone else, you think?”

  “Well, Rachael, obviously,” Vanessa said. “And Monroe and Anjali from your class, of course.”

  “O-kay,” I said slowly. “If they want to come.”

  “We’ll be there,” Monroe said.

  “So with the three of us, and Serena’s dad and aunt, that makes …” I started ticking names off my fingers, but I didn’t have enough fingers and I lost count.

  “Thirteen people,” Theo said.

  “Plus she has two brothers,” Vanessa said.

  “Fifteen,” Theo said, not that I needed him to do the math on that one.

  “Great,” Chloe said.

  “Uh-oh,” I said.

  “What?”

  “Theo wanted the invite list to be a multiple of four so the number of bowlers on each lane would match up. We need one more.”

  “We can invite Eleanor Barrett, but then we have to invite Bea Johnson, and neither of them is so close with Serena anyway,” Vanessa said.

  “I’ll invite my mom,” Theo said. “She knows Serena.”

  “Perfect. Sixteen. Four lanes.” I turned to Vanessa. “Does that sound good?”

  “It sounds great,” she said.

  “There’s just one more thing,” I said.

  “What’s that?”

  I knew what I was about to say would be awkward, but I figured that I should say it anyway. It was the kind thing to do—for Serena. “She doesn’t want people looking at her like they feel sorry for her.”

  “Of course we feel sorry,” Monroe said, with a roll of her eyes. “Her mother died. And that’s how people feel when that happens.”

  “I think Lucy would know that better than any of us,” Chloe said.

  For once, Monroe was quiet. There was nothing for her to say: My mom was dead. That was a fact. Tingles again.

  “She knows people feel bad,” I said softly. I turned to Theo. “Or do I mean badly?”

  He shoo
k his head. “You had it right the first time.”

  “People feel bad,” I said. “But it’s hard for Serena when they look at her like she’s different now.”

  “She said I looked at her like that?” Vanessa asked.

  I nodded. “She did. She wasn’t mad or anything. I don’t think she thought you were doing it on purpose.”

  “I wasn’t. But I’ll try not to do it again.”

  “Cool,” I said. “Can you help us spread the word to everyone on the guest list?”

  “Of course.”

  The five-minute bell rang. “I guess that means we should get going,” I said.

  “Yeah, I guess it does,” Vanessa said.

  “Come on,” Monroe told her. “Rachael and Anjali are waiting for us.”

  “Okay,” she said. “And Lucy?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I want to help with this. I’m her best friend, so if there’s a party I should help plan it. If you guys think of anything else you need, will you let me know?”

  I nodded. “We definitely will,” I told her.

  CHAPTER 18

  Once again, Dad was at Tanaka Lanes super late on Tuesday evening, which meant he missed dinner with Grandma and me. And that was too bad for him, because Grandma made one of my very favorite things, something I’ve only eaten at my house maybe twice in my whole life: a box of Kraft macaroni and cheese.

  “I’m glad you’re enjoying your pasta, mago,” Grandma said. “But the nutritional value lies solely in the side dish.” She nodded toward the broccoli on a small plate next to my big mac-and-cheese bowl.

  I finished my mouthful of cheesy deliciousness and speared a piece of broccoli to make her happy. Then I went back to eating the Kraft. “So Dad’s really busy still, huh?” I asked.

  “He is,” she said.

  “Just with regular work stuff?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re sure it’s not something else?”

  “You worry too much,” she said. “You always have.”

  “No, I don’t.” I rested my fork at the edge of my plate. “But if I don’t worry, how can I try to make things okay?”

  “Things have a way of working themselves out,” Grandma said.

  “Well, the details of this party won’t get worked out on their own.”

  “What party is that?”

  “The one we’re having for Serena at the bowling alley on Sunday.”

  “Serena’s family is throwing her a party?” Grandma asked.

  “No. We are. The Kindness Club.”

  “Oh, mago, I don’t know if your dad can swing that right now.”

  “He already told me it was okay,” I said.

  “He did? When?”

  “At breakfast last Friday,” I told her. “You were there. Don’t tell me you forgot.”

  “I’m sorry, mago,” Grandma said. “I don’t recall him saying that.”

  “Well, he did,” I said. “And now I’m worried about you again. You’ve forgotten a bunch of things lately. We were sitting right there, eating scrambled eggs. Only Dad was standing, and he wasn’t eating eggs because he said he wasn’t hungry. You said you’d package some up for him to bring to work. Then he got mad at me because I wanted him to have a fresh breakfast.”

  “I remember that part,” she said.

  “Okay,” I said. “Good. So now I really need to talk to him. Maybe I should call him.”

  “Let him work,” Grandma said. “You can speak to him later.”

  “Okay.”

  We finished up dinner and cleaned all the dishes. Grandma put the leftovers for Dad in the fridge. I didn’t tell Grandma this, but I knew Dad would also be secretly happy about what was on the menu. Not that we didn’t love Grandma’s cooking. But Ollie, Dad, and I all loved Kraft mac and cheese, too.

  Later on, I went up to my room. Dad still wasn’t back. It was getting late, but I wanted to talk to him before I went to sleep so I could plan my dream out better: What would the perfect party for Serena look like? In the meantime, I finished my homework and reread a bunch of old fashion magazines. I hadn’t begun to think about what I’d wear on Sunday. It had to be something birthday appropriate and also bowling appropriate.

  In my family, we’re all pretty serious about our bowling. Lots of kids bowl with bumpers in the lanes. That means there’s something blocking the gutters, so as long as you swing your arm hard enough, your ball will roll down the middle and knock down at least a few pins. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with using bumpers. But Dad spent a lot time teaching Ollie and me to bowl so we wouldn’t need them.

  When I was little, I held the ball with both hands, because it was heavy and my fingers were too small for the holes. But now that I’m ten I have my own ball that my fingers actually fit into—my thumb and my first two fingers. A perfect grip. The better to knock the pins down.

  There are ten pins in a bowling lane. For each turn, a bowler gets two shots at rolling their ball at the pins. If you knock them all down at once, that’s a strike, and that’s really hard to do. If it takes you two turns to knock them down, that’s called a spare, and that’s also hard but not as hard.

  Over the years, I’ve learned a lot about bowling. Mostly from Dad and Grandma, but some from Ollie, too, and even from Felix. He was a really patient bowling teacher. Before he left Dad in the lurch, I thought he was so kind. But it turned out he wasn’t.

  I lay back on my bed and closed my eyes to see the vision board of Serena’s party inside my head. I decided to wear my lucky bowling pants, along with the olive green shirt that I’d gotten last month at Second Chance. I hadn’t worn it yet because the sleeves were too long and the cuffs were too tight, and I hadn’t figured out how I wanted to fix them. Plus, it was just too plain. But I could make it one of my “scenes” shirts—the scene from a bowling alley, and I’d pair it with my forest green leggings and silver bowling shoes.

  I must’ve fallen asleep thinking about it. When my alarm rang Wednesday morning, the light in my room had been turned off, and the magazines were closed up and placed neatly on my dresser. By the time I got downstairs for breakfast, Dad had already left for work—again. “Mrs. G says things always change,” I told Grandma. “I can’t wait till it changes back to Dad being less busy so I actually see him again.”

  “That’s sweet that you miss him.”

  “I do, and now it’s only four days away and we haven’t discussed any party details. He doesn’t even know how many lanes to reserve.”

  “You need more than one lane?” Grandma asked.

  “We need four,” I told her.

  “Four?”

  “There are sixteen people on the guest list,” I explained. “We need to talk about the menu, too. Serena likes pizza, but no meat toppings because she’s a pescatarian. And she likes chocolate cake with white icing. I think Chloe can take care of that, because she’s a great baker. But the alley will have to supply the balloons—green ones. I’ll write it all down for you to give to Dad. Do you think he could put green spotlights on the lanes? Do you think green balloons and green lights is too much of one color?”

  “I don’t know, mago,” Grandma said.

  “Well, I think it’s too much,” I said. “Even when you love a color, sometimes you can have too much of it. So maybe the balloons can be green and the lights can be another color, like pink. Green and pink look good together. Though I’m not sure if Serena is a pink kind of girl.”

  “I meant I’m not sure if Dad can do the lights for you,” Grandma said.

  “He’s done colored lights before,” I reminded her. “Remember Disco Night?”

  “Mmm hmm.”

  “Maybe I should just call him so you don’t need to remember everything.”

  “You said you were going to write it down,” Grandma said.

  “Yeah,” I said. “But.”

  “But what? You don’t trust me to deliver a note?”

  “Of course I trust you,” I told her. “It’
s just—this is important to me. It’s important to our club, and to Serena. What if you forget?”

  Grandma shook her head. “I’ll talk to your father. Are you done with that?”

  She nodded toward my plate. Only the crust of my cinnamon toast remained. “Yeah, I’m done,” I said.

  I stood to throw out the scraps and rinse my plate, but Grandma took it from me. “I’ve got this,” she said. “You should pack up what you need for school and get going. And after school—”

  “I know, I know,” I said. “After school I go to Mrs. Negishi’s. She’s going to be mad that I haven’t practiced these last couple weeks. But it’s not really my fault because last week she canceled, and this week I’ve been busy with the club, and—”

  “Lucy—” Grandma cut in.

  “Oh, hey,” I said. “Can you write me a note? I’ve seen kids bring notes to teachers when they haven’t done their homework and they have a good excuse. If it works in school, then it should definitely work for an after-school piano lesson. Don’t you think?”

  “You don’t need one,” she said.

  “You don’t know Mrs. Negishi,” I told her.

  “I do in fact know Mrs. Negishi. But you don’t have piano this afternoon.”

  “Again?” I asked. “Is she still away?”

  “No, she’s back. But you told me you didn’t like the lessons, so I told Mrs. Negishi we weren’t signing up again.”

  “Oh,” I said.

  “You’re disappointed?” Grandma asked.

  “No,” I said. I thought back to what Grandma has said about insisting I take piano lessons in the first place: because learning the piano wasn’t just about piano—it was also about concentration and coordination. “I’m just surprised, that’s all.” The doorbell rang. “That’s Theo,” I said.

  “Go on, Lucy,” Grandma said. “You don’t want to keep him waiting.”

  CHAPTER 19

  Serena sat with Chloe, Theo, and me again during lunch. It was hard to contain our excitement about the party, but the three of us managed to act mostly normal. Except for one moment, when I looked over at the It Girls’ table, where Vanessa was. We caught each other’s eye, and I gave a secret little wave.