I sat at my desk and lined up my pencils while I waited for Sadie to arrive. I have a regular yellow pencil for regular old schoolwork. That one goes at the top of the desk. Then comes the lucky blue pencil that I use for spelling tests and math quizzes. Below that, I put my favorite pencil, the sparkly one with rainbows on it. That one is so special, I hardly ever use it. I just line it up with the others because I love to look at it.
Kids came into the classroom, shaking wet hair and shrugging off raincoats. The room got loud with their voices, but I tuned everyone out and kept my eyes on the door. I especially tuned out Justin, who sits in the desk behind mine and is always kicking my chair or tugging my ponytail or asking stupid questions like is my refrigerator still running, so he can make a dumb joke about how I’d better go catch it. Sadie once said she thinks Justin is cute, but she’s never had to hear him burp her whole name, first, middle, and last. Banana and I think Justin’s disgusting.
I looked at the clock, then back at the door. Still no Sadie. Maybe her bus was late.
Oh no. What if she wasn’t coming to school today? What if she was so mad at me, she was never coming back? Maybe she’d told her mom about our fight and her mom had let her change schools. Maybe they were moving to a whole new town. What if Sadie disappeared and I never got to see her again?
I jumped out of my chair. Just then, Sadie slipped into the classroom and the first bell rang. My heart flooded with relief.
“Sadie!” I said, but she didn’t look at me. She walked right past me like I wasn’t even there.
I sank into my seat. This wasn’t part of the plan.
Chapter Seven
Pretty Please with a Pony on Top
Ms. Burland clapped twice to start the day, and everyone scrambled to their desks. I stared at the back of Sadie’s head, two rows over and one row up. I had to get her attention.
“Sadie,” I whispered just loud enough for her to hear, but she didn’t turn around. She inched her chair to the right, moving even farther away from me. “Sadie!” I said a little louder. Ms. Burland shot me a warning glance as she started the morning lesson. I clamped my mouth shut.
Now what was I going to do?
I watched in horror as Sadie leaned over her desk and whispered something to Amanda, the girl who sits in front of her. Amanda glanced at me, then whispered back to Sadie. Sadie giggled softly.
I couldn’t believe it. Sadie never whispered with Amanda. Sadie hardly ever even talked to Amanda. Amanda sometimes picked her nose in public! My best friend was whispering with a known nose-picker and she refused to even look at me. It felt like I’d swallowed a bucket of rocks.
I had to do something. I had to follow the plan and apologize before it was too late. Before Sadie hated me forever, and made Amanda and everyone else in the entire third grade hate me too.
I reached into my desk and pulled out a notebook. Flipping to a blank page, I picked up my superspecial sparkly rainbow pencil and wrote:
I drew a little picture of Banana at the bottom, then ripped out the message and folded it up small. I waited until Ms. Burland turned around to write something on the whiteboard, then I tossed the note across the room, onto Sadie’s desk. She covered it quickly with her palm and swept it onto her lap.
I held my breath while Sadie unfolded the note under her desk. She stared at it for what felt like hours, before picking up her pen.
I exhaled. She was writing back. She was talking to me again. It was going to be okay.
Sadie refolded the note slowly, keeping her eyes on the teacher the whole time. She reached behind her and handed the note to Timothy, who handed it across to Isabel, who passed it over to me.
I unfolded it and read what Sadie had written.
Chapter Eight
Sorry Isn’t Enough
It was like the note had stabbed me. I let out a yelp and everyone turned in my direction. Everyone, including Ms. Burland.
“Anna!” Ms. Burland said. “Are you passing notes?”
“No!” I said. I looked over at Sadie, and her eyes were shooting daggers right at me. I knew what she was thinking: that if Ms. Burland read the note, we’d both be caught. I had to act fast. I crumpled up the paper, shoved it into my mouth, and chewed as hard as I could.
“Anna!” Ms. Burland said, sounding as shocked as I felt. “Spit that out!” I kept chewing. The note tasted disgusting, but I had to destroy the evidence. “Now,” Ms. Burland ordered.
Tears pricked my eyes as I spit the soggy, chewed-up wad onto my desk. I’d never disobeyed a teacher like that, especially not Ms. Burland.
Everyone started talking at once.
“Ew!”
“Gross!”
“She ate it!”
“Awesome!”
Sadie stayed silent, her arms folded across her chest.
“Enough!” Ms. Burland barked. The class went still. “Anna, please throw that mess away. You’ll be staying in for the next two recesses with your head down on your desk. You know better than to pass notes during class.”
My cheeks burned. If I had a tail like Banana’s, I’d have tucked it between my legs in shame. Two recesses! I had never been in so much trouble. Not even close. Ms. Burland was my favorite teacher, and I’d never be able to look her in the eye again. It was only late September and already I’d ruined the whole school year. I knew what she thought I was now: a troublemaker. A troublemaker who was one prank away from landing in the principal’s office. A troublemaker who ought to be locked up in jail and sentenced to ten years of hard labor and extra homework.
But at least I’d saved Sadie. At least I’d proven that I wasn’t a snitch. And without my best friend to play with, there was no point to having recess anyway.
Ms. Burland continued the lesson, but I didn’t hear a word of it. I wiped the tears off my face and scraped up what was left of the note. I could feel everyone watching me as I carried it to the front of the classroom and dropped it into the trash. It landed with a wet thwunk.
I turned and walked back to my seat, keeping my head down. I didn’t look at Sadie, couldn’t look at Sadie, but still—a flash of gold from her direction caught my eye.
I looked. It was the necklace. My necklace, hanging from Sadie’s neck. She was twisting and twirling it around one finger, and smiling the nastiest smile I’d ever seen.
All of a sudden, I felt furious. Nothing about this moment was fair. I’d lost my recess and I’d lost my necklace and I’d lost my best friend. I wanted to leap over the desks and take back my necklace and shove that mean smile right off Sadie’s face. But of course I couldn’t do that. There was nothing I could do but sit back down and wait for the world to end.
I stepped forward and heard a loud crack. I looked down. My favorite sparkly rainbow pencil lay on the floor beneath my foot, snapped in two.
This was officially the worst day of my life.
Chapter Nine
Wish Again
Sitting through recess with my head on my desk, I made a decision: I was never coming back to school again. I would stay home every day and read tons of books and learn to speak dog, and Banana would be my best and only friend. Maybe if I promised to do lots of extra chores, my parents would let me drop out of third grade.
Or maybe not.
I needed a foolproof way to get out of school. I needed another wish.
That night, I saw my chance. Dad had roasted a chicken for dinner, and when Chuck and I broke the wishbone, I closed my eyes and wished for a blizzard, even though we never get snow days at this time of year. But it didn’t matter what I’d wished for. Chuck got the bigger half.
When I went upstairs to brush my teeth, I stuck my head out the bathroom window and searched the sky for a falling star. But there were no stars to wish on. It was still raining. And now my hair was wet.
I stood in front of the mirror and blinked hard, again and again and again. I blinked until I was dizzy, then blinked some more, but no lucky eyelash fell out. I would have to find
something else to wish on.
I pulled one of Banana’s long, silky, brown ears. “If I rub your belly like Aladdin’s magic lamp, will you grant me a wish?” I asked. Banana looked skeptical.
I put on my pajamas and climbed into bed. Banana flopped down in her basket beside me and heaved a loud, doggy sigh. I guess my misery was contagious.
Contagious! That gave me an idea.
Hearing my mom’s footsteps coming up the stairs, I curled up on my side and tried to look weak. Mom sat on my bed and stroked my hair like she always does when she tucks me in. Suddenly, it was hard not to cry again.
“You okay, Annabear?” Mom asked. “You seem a little down tonight.”
I shut my eyes to block the tears. Part of me wanted to tell Mom everything, even the part about getting in trouble with Ms. Burland. But I knew I couldn’t. I had to try my other plan.
“No,” I told her. “I’m not okay. I think I’m getting sick. Very sick. I probably can’t go to school tomorrow. I might even have to miss the whole rest of the year.”
Mom went still. “Is that so?” she said.
“Yes,” I choked out. I gave a little cough, hoping it sounded fatal.
Mom moved her hand from my hair to my forehead. “You don’t have a fever,” she said, “and your skin isn’t clammy. I bet you’re going to be just fine.”
Oh no. Mom knew I was lying. Now I really did feel sick.
“Did something bad happen at school today, Anna?” she asked.
“No,” I mumbled. “I just thought I might be getting the flu.”
Mom kissed me, leaned down to kiss Banana, too, then stood. “Well, let’s see how you feel in the morning. You’d be amazed what a good night’s sleep can cure.”
Yeah, right, I thought as she turned out the light. Nothing could cure what had happened with Sadie. Nothing.
Chapter Ten
Mean, Meaner, Meanest
The next day, the rain stopped, but the misery did not. It only got worse.
First, Chuck poured himself all the Gorilla Grams, which he knows is my favorite breakfast, so I had to eat plain old Oatie O’s instead. When I complained just a little, Mom snapped at me for whining about it.
Next, Dad asked why I wasn’t wearing my new necklace. “Oh,” I said, trying to think fast. “It, um, it doesn’t go with this shirt.”
Chuck slurped at his cereal. “Mmmm,” he said, “Gorilla Grams are soooooo good.” And then I got in trouble for screaming.
Nobody was on my side.
At school, Sadie didn’t even bother to whisper about me or glare anymore. She just pretended I didn’t exist. I stuck out my tongue at the back of her head. It didn’t help.
I was so upset, I couldn’t focus on a single word Ms. Burland was saying. It was like my brain had been replaced with a thick glob of oatmeal, and no thoughts could swim through the sticky, gooey mush. When she called on me to read aloud from the top of page twenty-four, I got through two whole sentences—“The wonderful world of fungi includes the tasty mushrooms you find in your omelet and the itchy fungus that grows on your feet. But that’s not all!”—before I realized the entire class was laughing at me.
“Anna,” Ms. Burland said, “pay attention. We finished with science five minutes ago. Please take out your geography book.” I wished I had long ears like Banana’s so I could hide my face behind them.
When it was time for our spelling and vocabulary test, Ms. Burland walked between the rows of desks, calling out words in a dramatic voice, like she was announcing them to the guests at a royal banquet. I’d memorized every single word over the weekend with my dad, but now they went in one ear and out the other. It was the worst I’d done on any test, ever. Not even my lucky blue pencil could save me from failing.
It was almost a relief when recess came and everyone else ran outside to play while I pressed my cheek to the desk.
I decided the best way to get through lunch again was to sit at a far table with my back to the room so I wouldn’t have to see Sadie not being my friend—or, worse, being friends with anyone else. I ate my cheese sandwich and kept my eyes down and pretended I was invisible, same as yesterday. I didn’t even look up when Justin pointed at my napkin and said, “Hey, Anna, aren’t you going to eat that? Yummy, yummy paper.” I didn’t care what Justin said anyway. The only thing I cared about was losing my best friend.
After lunch, I stared at Sadie’s back while Ms. Burland handed out a worksheet on fractions. I wished I had my necklace back. I wished I had a real pony, or maybe a Pegasus, so I could gallop off and fly to a castle in the sky, and never have to watch Sadie ignoring me again. Or so the pony could kick her.
Enough.
I couldn’t take the silent treatment any longer.
“Sadie,” I hissed.
Sadie didn’t react.
“Sadie!” I whispered again, and finally she turned around.
The necklace gleamed. Her eyes narrowed. My stomach clenched.
“Did you hear something?” Sadie said to Isabel, who sits in the desk next to mine.
Isabel looked at Sadie, then at me, then back at Sadie. “Yes,” she said. “I heard Anna say your name.”
Sadie wrinkled her nose. “Oh,” she said. “Well, I didn’t hear anything.” She whirled back around.
“Thanks,” I whispered to Isabel. She shrugged like it was no big deal, but it felt like the first time anyone besides Banana had been nice to me in years.
Even though Sadie was acting so mean, I wouldn’t really have let a pony kick her. I missed her. I missed our sharing secrets and making each other laugh and finishing each other’s sentences and being a pair. I missed how being with her made everything more exciting. As mad as I was, I would forgive her in a second if she’d forgive me back. I just wanted us to make up and have fun again.
I looked up at the whiteboard and read the word of the day. Yearn: to ache for.
Yeah. It felt like that.
Chapter Eleven
Push Comes to Shove
Walking home from school, I dragged behind Chuck, kicking at the sidewalk with each step. A rock popped up off my shoe and bounced into Chuck’s calf. “Ow!” he said, shooting me a glare. “Watch it.”
Great. Now my brother hated me too.
“What’s your problem, grumpy-pants?” he asked.
I stared down at my feet and watched the right one land smack in the middle of a sidewalk crack. Sadie says stepping on cracks is bad luck. Well, fine. I stomped on the next one with my left foot, daring my luck to just try to get worse.
“Sadie and I had a fight,” I told Chuck. “She hates me. She won’t even talk to me. And she took my pony necklace.” As horrible as it was to admit the truth, it also felt good to tell someone. Even if that someone was stupid old Chuck.
“So?” he said. “Take it back.”
“Take what back?” I said. “I didn’t do anything. She just hates me.”
Chuck rolled his eyes. “Take the necklace back, dummy.”
“I can’t take the necklace back because it’s AROUND HER NECK!” I screamed. “She stole it from me and she wants to steal Banana, too, and she hates me and she’s not speaking to me and she’s supposed to be my best friend and I don’t even know what I did!”
“Yeesh, stop yelling,” Chuck said. “You don’t have to be so dramatic about it.”
My head popped off. Almost. “DID YOU HEAR ME? I LOST MY BEST FRIEND!”
He shrugged.
I crossed my arms tight across my chest to stop them from flailing around so much. Chuck was making me feel ridiculous.
“So get a new best friend,” he said. “Or pretend you’re not a total wuss and stick up for yourself for once.”
“Argh!” I shrieked. And then I shoved him.
Chuck laughed and started walking again. “See? Sometimes you have to push back, Annabean.”
“I’m not a bean,” I grumbled. But I couldn’t help wondering if maybe Chuck was right.
Chapter Twelve
Dressed to Kill
The next morning, I got up before anyone else in the house. Even Banana stayed curled up in her basket, with one ear flopped over the side. Her eyes followed my every move as I stomped around the room, getting ready for school. Getting ready to grow a spine. Getting ready to stand up to Sadie.
I yanked open a dresser drawer and dug for the perfect outfit. I pulled out a purple shirt with three bows on the front. “This,” I explained to Banana, “is the top that Sadie says I should never wear because it makes me look like a giant grape.” I tossed my pajamas onto the floor and put the shirt on.
Banana nosed at her blanket a little nervously but kept her eyes on me.
“And this,” I told her, stepping into my favorite skirt, “is the perfect thing to wear with it. Sadie says purple and orange clash.”
Banana shoved her snout all the way under the blanket. But I wasn’t afraid. I turned to the mirror. Orange with purple looked pretty great. But the outfit still needed a finishing touch.
I brushed out my hair and slid on the pink headband Sadie had given me for my birthday. The one she’d gotten for herself, too, so we could be twins. She would see it in my hair today, above my orange skirt and grapey top, and she’d know I was wearing this outfit for her. She’d know I was wearing it because I was no longer trying to be her best friend.
Mom knocked softly and pushed open my bedroom door. “Anna, time to wake—oh! You’re already up. Well, don’t you look nice.”
Anna, Banana, and the Friendship Split Page 2
