D, My Name Is Danita

by Norma Fox Mazer

  Well, I did. Two of them. “Just little ones,” Dr. V. said, with his big cheery smile. It wasn’t his teeth that had to be drilled.

  I’d had some idea of hanging around the mall afterward, getting a glimpse or two of Jon, but when I left Dr. V.’s, my jaw was frozen and I was slobbering out of the corner of my mouth. I took the bus straight home.

  I was lying on my bed, reading, when the phone rang. I went across the hall to Mom and Dad’s room and sat down on their bed. “Hello?”

  “Is Mr. Merritt in?”

  “No.” I rubbed my jaw.

  “Is this his daughter?”

  “Yes.”

  There was a cough across the line. “I thought so. How old are you again?”

  “Excuse me?” I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “Who did you say this was?”

  “This is a friend of your father’s. Is your brother there?”

  “Who?”

  “You have a brother, don’t you?”

  “No.” I felt like saying, Maybe you’re mixing me up with my girlfriend! Laredo has a brother. Just thinking that, just thinking of Laredo’s name, I got a burning feeling in my chest.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” the caller said. “I was sure you had a—”

  I looked at the phone. His voice sounded so familiar. “Did you call before?” I asked.

  “What?… Just tell your father I called. Thanks.” He hung up.

  “Hey!” I said to the silent phone. “How can I tell him you called if you didn’t leave your name?”

  That night Dad and Mom decided to take me and Lizbeth to the movies. “I’d rather stay home,” I said.

  “But you love the movies.” Automatically, my mother put the back of her hand against my forehead to test for fever.

  Dad pushed my bangs off my face. They were at it again, hovering over me like two anxious helicopters. “What will you do all alone?” Dad said, as if I couldn’t spend two minutes of my life without company.

  “I’ll read. I’ll watch TV. I’ll be fine. I’d just like to be by myself tonight.” I was proud of how calm I sounded. But not calm enough for my mother.

  She gazed at me. “You look sort of flushed. How does your jaw feel? Now that I think of it, you were kind of mopey this morning.”

  “I was not! I felt great all day.” A bald-faced lie, but what was I supposed to say? You’re right! I was mopey! I felt rotten! How would you feel if your best friend went crazy and turned your friendship into a heap of rubble?

  “You can tell me your feelings, Danita,” Lizbeth said. Great! Helicopter number three had just buzzed into action. “Talking about feelings helps you feel better,” the Little Therapist went on.

  “Where did you learn that?” I asked.

  “A lady came to our school to talk about emotions.”

  “Okay, you talk about your emotions.”

  “I try to. Right now I feel very cheerful because Mommy and Daddy are taking us to a movie.”

  My father laughed. “How’d I ever get along without you girls?” He gave Lizbeth a hug, then me. “You really don’t want to come to this movie, Dani?”

  “No, Dad. Please.”

  So they went without me. A tiny victory. I could brood in peace. I thought about seeing Laredo in school Monday. Usually we rushed up to each other. Ta, Laredo! Ta, Dani! And maybe that’s just how it would be. We’d hug, and Laredo would say, That was all nothing, it was idiotic! Then another hug, and the fight would be over. No questions asked.

  Chapter 8

  Monday, in school, Laredo and I walked, not rushed, toward each other. One cool glance and that was it. In gym, we were on the same volleyball team, but we didn’t talk then, either. Not a word. Not a single syllable. Which is not to say I wasn’t thinking a million things.

  Laredo, pretend it’s twenty years from now and we’re grown up, and we’ve got careers, and we’re married, and we have children, and we’ve never made up our fight! Then one day we see each other. And you know what? You feel rotten. You know what a big mistake you made twenty years ago! You cry buckets, you want to make up NOW, but guess what, it’s too late! It doesn’t do you any good!

  It’s really strange breaking up with your best friend. The worst part is the way you feel. The second-worst part is that you have so much time on your hands. That’s probably why I got up my courage finally and went to a meeting of Greasepaint to ask if I could work with the backstage crew.

  Mrs. Avora touched her cap of black hair. “Well … we can always use another pair of hands. Shirley Larkin, what do you think?”

  A tall, beautiful girl with very red lips came over and asked my name and homeroom. “Well, fine,” she said.

  I waited. I thought I’d be put to work on something right away, something important like painting scenery or working on costumes. “Is that it?” I said.

  “For now.” I could tell from the way Shirley Larkin smiled that she was at least a junior, maybe even a senior. “What did you expect?” she said kindly, as if speaking to someone very young and not too bright.

  I gave her a big smile and left, wishing Laredo was there to tell me I’d acted okay and hadn’t made a fool of myself.

  Thursday after school, I went to the mall with a shopping list Mom had given me. I walked into Strawberries, and right away I saw Laredo in front of the makeup counter. She saw me, too, but she dropped her eyes, as if she hadn’t seen me, or as if I didn’t exist. Take your pick. Then she left.

  I stood there, balancing for a moment between feeling sorry for myself and getting mad. Mad won, and I went charging out of the store after Laredo. I was going to get her and tell her a thing or two. Laredo, you’re trying to cancel out our friendship, but I’ve got news for you. You can’t make it disappear. We made something that wasn’t in the world before. Understand? It’s the friendship of Laredo and Danita, and it’s a real thing. Maybe you can’t see it, but it’s real anyway. And it’s always going to be out there, somewhere. Think about that, Laredo!

  Somebody bumped into me; stepped on my heel, actually. “Sorry,” a boy behind me said. “That was clumsy of me.”

  Just what I’d thought, but since he’d said it, I couldn’t.

  “You okay?” He was wearing white pants and a loose cotton shirt. His hair was cut short on top, but with a thin ponytail at his neck. “I’m sorry.” He kept apologizing and looking at me. “I’m really sorry—”

  “It’s okay, it’s okay,” I said. I glanced into the crowd ahead of me. I’d lost Laredo. Shoot! I moved aside so the boy could pass me. For some reason, I looked down. Bare ankles. Red sneakers. No socks. Could this be the same boy Laredo and I had noticed staring at us last week? Suddenly, I thought of the guy who’d been standing across from our house Saturday morning. The one with the scarf wrapped around his face. And red sneakers. Were they the same red sneakers?

  Ask him! Ask him if he’s the same one as the one with the scarf. I could hear Laredo’s voice. Action, not contemplation, Dani.

  Oh, shut up, Laredo! I thought. I turned aside and went down the stairs and found myself in front of Ice Dreams. Jon was there, behind the counter. I went in, just did it without thinking. Action, not contemplation.

  “Can I help you?” Jon said.

  “Uh.” I stood against the counter, looking up at the menu of different flavors. “P-pistachio, please.”

  “Cone or dish?”

  “Uh, c-cone.” I’d never stuttered in my life, but now I couldn’t seem to stop.

  “Large or small?”

  “Uh, s-small.”

  He dipped the ice cream, smoothed the cool green mound with the back of the silver dipper, then handed me the cone with a napkin wrapped around it. “One dollar, please.”

  I gave him the money, took a lick of the ice cream.

  “See you around,” he said. And he gave me his beautiful smile.

  I walked out, dazed, thinking I’d done just what Laredo had been urging me to do … and she wasn’t even around to applaud.


  Chapter 9

  Just as I walked into homeroom, the PA buzzed, and a voice said, “Good morning, all. This is Bunny Larrabee with today’s exciting announcements! It is Friday, October tenth.”

  October tenth? I slid into my seat. It was Laredo’s birthday! We should have been celebrating instead of passing in the hall with our I see you but I wish I didn’t stare.

  I told myself, Don’t think about it! But I couldn’t help myself. I thought about how much fun we’d had last year on her birthday, how everything had been so perfect. I’d bought her a bunny-fur sweater, which she said she’d wanted forever. We’d had all her favorite food. Lamb chops, sweet potatoes, chocolate-mocha cake. We’d watched a movie, stuffed ourselves on ice cream and more cake, and argued—or laughed, I should say—over who was going to sleep on the floor.

  I said, “Laredo, it’s your birthday, I take the floor.”

  She said, “Dani, I get the bed every night.”

  “No way! You’re the birthday girl.”

  “You’re the guest! The bed is yours!”

  Eventually we agreed to share the bed. As Laredo said later, “Extremo mistake.” Her bed is old, the springs creak every time you move a toe, and no matter how you try to clutch the sides, the mattress (and you with it) sinks in the middle like quicksand. Instead of falling asleep, we kept falling into each other.

  Around four o’clock in the morning, too exhausted to laugh anymore and hours after her mother had told us to quiet down, we finally fell asleep. We didn’t wake up until nearly noon. Too late for school, of course. Boo hoo! We made waffles, bacon, toast, and coffee. Coffee! My parents never allowed me that. Or skipping school, especially if it was my own fault that I’d overslept. Laredo and I had agreed it was the greatest thirteenth birthday anyone could have.

  Bunny Larrabee was making another announcement. “This is to remind you all of the Mixer in the gym at noon. Everyone come and bring your school spirit with you! And now, before we close, a little joke to start your day off right.… What did the overweight man say to the skinny woman?” She paused. “I’ll go on a diet when I stop believing in the survival of the fattest.”

  The whole class groaned.

  Laredo and I had planned to go to the Mixer. Now I decided to skip it. Mixers were for being silly, laughing, dancing, meeting people, and having fun. What was the opposite of all that? Gloom, woe, and grief? Must be, because that was how I felt. But passing the gym on my way to the lunchroom, I peeked in … and I saw Jon inside. And my feet took charge, turned, and walked me right in. It was like Ice Dreams the other day. Gliding in there in a kind of dream.

  Jon was standing near one of the basketball hoops. My feet kept moving me in that direction.

  “Hi, Danita,” someone said.

  “Hi.” Smile.

  Mrs. Jones-Barbarra, our vice-principal, was speaking into a mike. “May I have a volunteer to man—sorry—I mean, people the record player? And, girls, don’t forget, you can ask the boys to dance.”

  Now I was near enough Jon to stop and stare. See you around. Hadn’t those been his exact words? What if he meant he’d see me here? I wished … I didn’t know what I wished. Something about Jon and me. Could I ask him to dance? He was a boy. I was a girl. Hadn’t Mrs. Jones-Barbarra just said … My heart raced. I couldn’t! I didn’t have the nerve.

  I walked around the gym, around and around, thinking about Jon. I didn’t want to fling myself all over him. Not exactly. But … what if we were alone … and he wanted to kiss me? Just the thought of it made me go weak. Why does one person do that to you and not another? If I could ask Laredo, I knew what she’d say. Dani, if you like him, do something about it.

  I walked around the gym one more time. That was when I saw Jon dancing with Shirley Larkin. Shirley Larkin and Jon! I stopped and stared at them, at their two blond heads, their golden skin, their white, white smiles. “Shirley Larkin … Jon Haberle.” I whispered their names to myself.

  He was beautiful. He was glamorous. He was special.

  So was she!

  How could I ever hope anything about Jon and me? I couldn’t.

  Then, at the exact moment I thought that, Jon glanced over Shirley’s shoulder, looked at me … and winked!

  I didn’t know what it meant. Did he remember me? Did he like me? Did he think I was cute? Did he like me as much as he liked Shirley? Or maybe … even … more?

  I felt dazed and weird for the rest of the day, half of me gloomy over Laredo, the other half of me dazzled by Jon Haberle and his wink.

  I saw Shirley in the hall, and I was going to walk past her, but she called me. “Hi,” I said. I looked up, then down. My face got hot. Did she know Jon had winked at me?

  “How about coming to work with the crew after school today?” she said.

  I stared at her red fingernails. It took a moment for the words to sink in. What had I been expecting her to say? I know about you and Jon, and I’m telling you right now—back off!

  I held my books against my chest. “What should I bring?”

  “Yourself and your legs. We’ll run you into the ground.”

  “Shirley, don’t scare her,” Trudy Marsh said, stopping. She was another junior girl in Greasepaint. She had big brown freckles all over her face and arms. She gave me a nice smile. But later, backstage, she was the one who really sent me scurrying!

  For two hours that afternoon I was your basic gofer, running around with glasses of water and picking up screwdrivers and sweaters and paintbrushes. In between, I swept up around the people working on the sets.

  Trudy Marsh put two fingers in her mouth and whistled. “Dani. Yo, Dani!” She was standing on top of a ladder, painting a stormy sky on a section of set. “Wake up, girl. That’s the third time I called you.”

  “Sorry …” My cheeks were hot. I’d gone off into a daydream about Jon.

  “Are you present now? Hand me up that paintbrush.” She pointed. I didn’t see the paintbrush. “Help,” she moaned.

  Shirley took my head between her hands and turned it in the right direction. “Lucky us,” she murmured.

  Meaning unlucky them, to get stuck with me? My cheeks got hotter. I took several deep breaths. Then a new thought hit me. What if Shirley said something to Jon about me?

  Jon, we have this new girl working backstage. What an airhead. You have to call her three times to get her attention. She can’t see a paintbrush that’s under her nose. She gets red in the face every time you talk to her. Total loss.

  And what if Jon nodded understandingly.

  I think I know who you mean, Shirley. Is she skinny? Does she stammer? Does she like, ugh, pistachio ice cream?

  I swept furiously in a corner.

  I remembered the way Shirley and Jon had danced at the Mixer, their arms around each other. Were they going together? Of course they were! They were a perfect couple. He’d probably given her his class ring. They’d probably pledged eternal love.

  I swept harder.

  Then I remembered Jon winking at me over Shirley’s shoulder.

  And I didn’t know what to think.

  Chapter 10

  I wandered around school during lunch period, hoping to see Jon. I looked in the music room. (He played drums in the band.) I looked in the office. I looked in the gym. And there, I saw not Jon, but Laredo. She was sitting in the bleachers, and there were two boys at her feet in attitudes of adoration. I knew them. I’d known them all my life. Davis and Ronnie Buck, cousins, two of the worst pests in the universe.

  Laredo laughed at something one of them said, pushing her hair behind her ears. Great. My ex-best friend preferred the company of two of the biggest creeps in creation to mine! What bad taste!

  I felt like saying that to her.

  I walked into the gym and looked up at Laredo. But then I didn’t say anything, just stood there and stared at her.

  Maybe she knew what was in my mind. She lifted her chin and looked the other way.

  Ronnie Buck was the one who looke
d at me. He had a big spotted face like a toad. “Merritt! What are you doing here?”

  “Your mouth’s hanging open,” his cousin, Davis, giggled.

  Ronnie flicked his hand at me. “Vamoose, girl. Amscray. Can’t you see the b-i-i-i-g people are busy?”

  I opened my mouth to say something, but before I could, Laredo put her foot against Ronnie’s back. “What did you say?”

  “I’m telling the Merritt to vamoose.”

  “The Merritt?” Laredo said.

  Davis and Ronnie both giggled.

  “I have a better idea. Why don’t you two vamoose?”

  “Awwww, Laredo,” they whined.

  “Good-bye, Ronnie. Good-bye, Davis.” She waved her hand, dismissing them. She was like a queen waving them away. And away they went!

  I thought I should say something, like, Thanks for cleaning up the atmosphere. Or maybe, Great performance! “Laredo!” I said.

  “What!”

  “Isn’t this stupid?”

  “Isn’t what stupid?”

  “This whole thing with us! I think it’s really ridiculous and stupid.”

  After a moment, she said, “I’ll buy that.”

  “At least we agree on something.”

  “Yeah,” she said, “something.”

  Was this progress? I said, “Do you want to talk about it?”

  She rolled her shoulders around. “Maybe.”

  “Yes or no, Laredo?”

  She sighed deeply. “Y-e-e-s! But not here.”

  “Where, then? Outside?”

  “Fine!”

  Just like that, we were walking out of the gym, out of school, and around the back of the building. The girls’ track team was out doing sprints. We started climbing the hill behind the school. Neither of us said anything.

  “I went to the Mixer,” I said, to start things off.

  “I didn’t.”

  “I saw Jon there. And Shirley Larkin. Do you know her? They were dancing together.” I forgot to be cool, and blurted, “She’s beautiful! You should see them together.”

  “Oh, phoo! She’s probably not a quarter as smart as you.”