Best (Boy)friend

by Melissa J Morgan

  “It’s not like I was looking, because I wasn’t. I was anti-looking,” Sarah said. “But it’s cool that David likes some of the same stuff I do. He’s not as serious about softball as I am. But he’ll play. And he’s funny. He cracks me up. I like that.”

  Hey, it worked. She got an answer to the boyfriend question. Score! My lose-a-friend plan is going great! Priya looked over at Brynn.

  “I definitely want a boy who likes what I like,” Brynn said. “It would be so fun to go to The Elephant and the Grapefruit at the Kennedy Center tomorrow with a boy. I mean, I know it’s a group thing. But it would be fun if there was a boy I was into. We could hold hands, and at intermission we could talk about what the play meant, and the performances and the costumes and the sets and everything.”

  A boy who likes what she likes. Remember that, Priya thought.

  You’re Jordan’s friend. He wants this. Remember that, she had to tell herself one second later.

  “I’m still trying to wrap my noggin around Jordan saying he isn’t ga-ga for you,” Valerie told Priya. “Not that he would use the word ga-ga. But talk about liking the same things—you guys could be the same person. And Nat did say that Jordan was asking the other guys for girlfriend advice.”

  “Yeah, what about that? And the different clothes?” Alex said.

  “Don’t forget the hair!” Brynn added.

  “Gotta be for someone else,” Priya said. “He didn’t tell me. I—I—” She shook her head. “We’ve always told each other everything since forever.”

  Her eyes began to burn. She couldn’t believe this. She felt like she was about to cry. She never cried. The last time she’d cried was when Jordan had accidentally slammed her finger in a car door. And that was two years ago.

  Priya blinked rapidly, praying no one noticed her wet eyes, and rushed on. “That’s not even it. We’ve always just been there for every big thing, you know? Because we grew up next door to each other. So we didn’t even have to tell each other stuff. We just automatically knew. I can’t even believe that there’s something he hasn’t told me.”

  Man, why was she getting all emotional? Jordan had told her how he felt about Brynn.

  But pretty soon there would be things he’d keep secret from her, wouldn’t there? If he got a girlfriend, there would be things he’d only tell that girlfriend, right?

  She sucked in a deep breath and tried to pull it together. “Whoever the girl is, it’s not me. And like I said, I wouldn’t want Jordan for a boyfriend, anyway. We’re too much alike. It would be weird.”

  Priya turned to Valerie. “So what about you?” She scratched a mosquito bite on her ear and rushed on. “What do you want in a boyfriend?” She figured Brynn would keep saying boyfriend stuff if the group kept talking about boyfriends.

  Valerie stared at Priya for a moment, then closed her eyes and thought. “Not much. Your basic gorgeous.” She opened her eyes and pulled her pjs out of her suitcase. “Smart. Lets me boss him around,” she added with a grin.

  “Well, gorgeous. Who doesn’t want gorgeous?” Brynn asked.

  Valerie laughed. “We both have quite a list for two girls who haven’t actually had actual boyfriends,” she commented.

  “Until a few weeks ago, I didn’t even want one,” Sarah said.

  So gorgeous goes on the list, too, Priya thought. Was Jordan gorgeous? She’d never thought about it. He wasn’t hideous or anything. He didn’t have two heads. And anyway, there wasn’t much he could do about that one way or the other.

  “I’m not even sure I want a boyfriend yet,” Alex began. “And I absolutely know my parents would freak at the idea.”

  “Oooh. And I want someone that listens when I talk. And someone who can dance,” Brynn interrupted. “And who says I look nice when I dress up.”

  Priya’s forehead wrinkled as she concentrated. She needed to remember all that until she met Jordan at eleven.

  Priya hit the button that illuminated the dial of her waterproof watch. The watch even had a compass. Not that she’d need one to get downstairs to the lobby.

  Ten fifty-seven. Time to leave. It was a good thing she’d ended up on the rollaway. It made sneaking out easier. She sat up slowly and stripped off her pajamas. She had a t-shirt and a pair of shorts on underneath. Her flip-flops were positioned carefully at the side of the bed, ready for her feet.

  She shot a glance around the room. Sophie had kicked off the covers, but she was still asleep. Everybody else was conked out, too. Priya slid her feet into the flops, wincing at the soft sound they made slapping against the carpet as she made her way toward the door. She paused long enough to grab the extra key card off the dresser. And she was outta there.

  Priya felt like there was a mega-flashlight on her as she waited for the elevator. Every second, she expected somebody to ask her exactly what she was doing out in the hallway by herself in the middle of the night. She let out a breath she hadn’t even known she was holding when the elevator gave a little ping and the door opened.

  Jordan was already in the lobby when she got down there. “What did she say? What did you say? You didn’t say I liked her, did you? You were just supposed to find out what kind of boyfriend she wants, not say I liked her,” he blurted out, not bothering with a “hi” or anything.

  “Get a grip, please,” Priya told him. She silently told herself the same thing. She was going through with the lose-a-friend thing. If she didn’t, she’d probably lose him anyway. But in a worse way.

  Priya pushed Jordan toward a little padded bench that was out of the sight of the people at the reception desk. “Sit,” she ordered. Jordan sat down and so did she.

  Is he gorgeous? The thought just kind of exploded in her head. Jordan’s eyes were this mossy green and—

  Not important.

  “What. Did. She. Say?” Jordan asked. The muscles in his neck were tight, and his teeth were almost clenched as he ground out the words.

  “Here goes. The list. One—Brynn wants someone who likes what she likes,” Priya began.

  “Wait. What does she like?”

  Priya thought for a second. “Plays. Everything about them. Being in them. Watching them. Reading them, I’m pretty sure. The backstage stuff. Everything,” she said.

  Jordan made a scooping “more, more” gesture with both hands. “Two—she wants a boyfriend who listens to what she says,” Priya obediently continued. “Three—she wants a boyfriend who tells her she looks nice when she dresses up. Four—” Priya hesitated.

  “You didn’t forget, did you?” Jordan clapped his hands on his head. “Tell me you didn’t forget.”

  “I didn’t forget. I might have the order messed up on some of these. Anyway. Four—she wants a good dancer. And five—she wants somebody gorgeous.”

  Jordan leaned over, elbows on his knees, and stared at the floor. “This is hopeless.”

  “That’s kind of extreme,” Priya said. He sounded so . . . defeated. So not Jordan. “I’ve seen you dance at socials. I’ve even danced with you. You’re okay. So that’s one off the list. And, hey, if this all works the way you want it to, maybe Brynn will go with you to the Potomac Cruise Dance. I heard some guys are asking girls.”

  He still looked like he’d been eating dirt or something. Just completely miserable. Priya had figured getting him Brynn’s list would be all she’d have to do as Jordan’s GBFF. Clearly not. Clearly he needed further assistance. You can do this, she told herself.

  She knocked shoulders with him. “Now tell me I look pretty.”

  “Why?” He didn’t look up.

  You don’t think I do? Priya felt like asking. Even though that was stupid. She hadn’t even brushed her hair. And anyway, this wasn’t about her.

  “For practice. Brynn practice,” Priya explained. “She wants someone who tells her she looks pretty when she dresses up. You want to be the kind of boy she wants as a boyfriend. So practice.”

  “You look pretty,” he muttered, still staring at the floor.


  “See, I don’t think it works if you don’t actually look at the person,” Priya told him. “So raise your eyeballs up and tell me I look pretty. Wait. No. Tell me a reason I look pretty. Like my hair or my eyes or some baloney like that.”

  Jordan straightened up and turned toward her. Man, his eyelashes were long.

  “Your eyes are almost the same color as my dog’s,” Jordan told her.

  Priya tried to imagine how Brynn would feel about hearing that. She shook her head. “I’m not an expert. But comparing a girl to a dog . . . probably not a great idea.”

  “But Dodger’s eyes are this amazing brown-gold. They’re really pretty,” Jordan protested.

  “I know. I’ve seen them up very close—with slobber dripping down on me. But probably go with something more normal. You could just say ‘I like your dress’ or something,” Priya said.

  Jordan nodded. “I can do that.”

  “Yes, you can, my friend! So two down. And listening to her—that’s easy. So you got three.” Priya counted on her fingers. “And I think you’re—” Gorgeous. The word almost slipped out. Where had that come from? “I think you’re decent in the looks department. So that just leaves liking what she likes.”

  “So I need to go to the play tomorrow.”

  “Instead of the Air and Space Museum?” Priya blurted out. “We have the whole place mapped out. We know how long we’re going to spend at each—” She forced herself to stop. Best friend, she reminded herself. He’s your best friend, so be his.

  She swallowed hard. “Going to the play is the perfect way to get Brynn interested in you.” Priya stood up. “Come on. The hotel has computers for the guests. Let’s go online and read some reviews of the play. We can find some smart stuff for you to say about it. ’Cause we both know you’re not going to come up with anything out of your own head.”

  Jordan grinned. “Sweet.”

  Priya led the way to the small room near the reception counter. It was empty. Bonus.

  “What’s the name of the play again?” Jordan asked as he sat down in front of the nearest monitor.

  “The Elephant and the Grapefruit,” Priya answered.

  Jordan Googled the play. Priya grabbed the computer next to his and Googled it, too. “You read the Washington Post review. I’ll take the New York Times.”

  They read in silence for a few moments. “Do you know if the grapefruit is a person?” Jordan asked.

  Priya laughed. “I’m pretty sure there isn’t an elephant of any kind in the whole thing. It’s symbolic. I think it might represent a country. Or maybe a circus.”

  “Or possibly people with big ears,” Jordan suggested.

  “Or big noses,” Priya shot back.

  “Or wrinkly skin.” Jordan spun his chair around on its wheels. “That’s it! I’m a genius. Grapefruits have weird skin, too. Not wrinkly, but sort of, I don’t know . . .”

  “Almost pimply,” Priya said.

  “Yeah, or at least acne-pitted,” Jordan answered. “That’s it. We’ve cracked it. It’s a play about the problems of bad skin.”

  We’re back. Me and Jordan. Jordan and me, Priya thought. But for how long?

  “You are a genius. And you know what else?” Priya asked. “Suddenly, I really want a candy bar. A big, chocolaty candy bar.” Priya closed her eyes. “And maybe a bag of really greasy potato chips.”

  “So you’re saying you want to join the people with bad skin. You want zits,” Jordan teased. He grinned again. He looked extra cute when he grinned. Wait. Where did that come from? Priya thought.

  “So many zits,” Priya agreed, glad that Jordan couldn’t really read her mind, even though sometimes it seemed like he could, in that best friend kind of way. “You want some, too? There’s a vending machine.”

  “Get me a big bucketload of pimples with some blackheads on the side,” Jordan told her, digging in his pockets for money. Then the smile slid off his face. “Better not,” he said. “Gorgeous was on Brynn’s list, remember?”

  “Well, I’m still going,” Priya said. “I’ll get you some nice breath mints.” Oh, ewww. He better not use them for any kind of impressing-Brynn prep, she thought. “I’ll be back in a minute. Find something intelligent to say tomorrow. Because the horrors-of-bad-skin interpretation isn’t going to cut it with Brynn.”

  Priya hurried toward the little alcove where she’d spotted the vending machine when they’d checked in. She hesitated when she felt something on the inside of her thigh. Something . . . drippy. Warm.

  She spotted a ladies’ room and made a detour. The pink and turquoise room was empty. Priya ducked into the closest of the three stalls, and got her shorts down as fast as she could. She perched on the edge of the toilet seat. Her stomach did a slow roll as she saw the streak of blood on her leg and the red stain on her underpants.

  It took her a second to realize she’d gotten her period. Even though she’d had The Talk with her mom. And they’d discussed it in health class. And she and her bunkmakes had just been talking about period stuff during the “I Never” game.

  But at first Priya had just thought—something’s wrong. Something’s really wrong.

  Then it clicked, and she pulled her underwear to the side and checked her shorts. A couple of tiny spots of blood, but nothing that anyone would notice. Nothing Jordan would have noticed. Okay, okay. Good.

  Her underwear was ruined. She had to toss it. But not until she got upstairs and put on a new pair. She’d find a bag and throw this pair away somewhere outside the hotel room so no one would see it in the bathroom trash. She didn’t need everyone talking about her. Looking at her. She could deal with this on her own.

  So, the first step in dealing was getting a pad. She couldn’t just stay in the stall all night bleeding on herself. Priya cleaned herself up as well as she could with some toilet paper, then she hiked up her shorts and stepped out of the stall. There was no vending machine for pads. Great. Her mother had sent some stuff with her to camp—just in case. But Priya hadn’t brought any of it on the trip.

  She slammed the door stall door shut. Toilet seat covers, she decided. She could make a pad out of toilet seat covers. Priya pulled out about ten of the covers and folded them into a bulky rectangle. She got her shorts down again and positioned the “pad” in the center of her underpants, pulled them up, then her shorts.

  It felt . . . like she had a huge wad of paper between her legs. But it was better than nothing. She waddled out of the stall and studied herself in the mirror. From the front she looked okay. From the back she looked a little bulky. Nothing anybody should notice, though.

  She hurried out of the bathroom and toward the elevator, then stopped and rushed back to the computer room. “Uh, Jordan, I have to go. Keep reading the reviews. You’ll find something good.”

  She backed out quickly, not wanting to give him the bulky view, just in case, not giving him time to answer.

  “Hey, Priya, what’s up?” he called after her.

  She pretended she hadn’t heard him. It’s not like she could tell him. There were some things you just couldn’t tell a boy. Even if he was the best friend you’d ever had.

  chapter SIX

  Priya opened the hotel room door and flipped off her flip-flops. It was almost impossible to tiptoe in flip-flops. She stepped inside, then quietly shut the door behind her. Underwear, she thought. First, I need new underwear.

  Except even though her toilet-seat cover pad was ginormous, Priya was pretty sure she already felt a new wet spot. The thing just didn’t fit right. Which meant her new underwear would get wrecked, too. And she could end up with blood on her pajamas. And maybe even on the hotel sheets.

  She stood frozen in the dark room, feeling suddenly overwhelmed. What was she supposed to do?

  Priya could wake up Sophie. But going to their CIT would make such a production of the whole thing. Not that Sophie wasn’t cool, but . . .

  Who else? Priya’s eyes skimmed over the sleeping girls. She didn’t know any of th
em well enough for something like this. Something this personal. Except in that “I Never” game they’d all talked about some personal stuff. Alex had admitted that she wanted to know if she was the only one who hadn’t gotten her period. And Abby had said she was freaked about going to a doctor for not getting hers. That was totally personal information.

  Priya was pretty sure Valerie had said she’d gotten her period during the game. And Val was in the bed closest to the door. And Priya needed help. So she tiptoed over.

  “Val,” she whispered.

  “I didn’t take the eyeball out,” Val muttered, throwing one hand over her face.

  “Valerie, wake up.”

  But it was Sarah who answered. “What’s wrong?” She sat up and looked at Priya.

  “Nothing.” She’d been okay with telling one person. Just one. She’d been in a bunk with Valerie and everyone for half the summer, but she didn’t know them that well.

  Sarah yawned. “Nothing?” she sounded confused.

  Why wouldn’t she be? You didn’t stand over somebody’s bed in the middle of the night for nothing. Spit it out, Priya told herself. “Nothing, except I got my period. And they don’t have a machine in the bathroom, and I don’t have any stuff,” she confessed.

  “Oh, wow. Are you okay? Do you want me to wake up Sophie? Or I could run and get Becky,” Sarah offered.

  “No, that’s okay, “ Priya said quickly. “I just wanted to borrow a pad.”

  “I don’t have anything with me. I should, since who knows when mine will come back. But maybe Val does.” Sarah grabbed Valerie by the shoulder and gave her a shake.

  Val blinked rapidly, then stared around the room like she’d never seen it before. “D.C. field trip. Hotel,” Sarah whispered, helping her out.

  “I was having the freakiest dream.” Valerie shook her head, like she was trying to shake the dream free. “What’s going on?” she asked Sarah.

  “Priya got her period! She needs to borrow some pads,” Sarah explained. “And keep it down. Everybody else is still asleep.”