What If... All Your Friends Turned On You

by Liz Ruckdeschel

  Haley got herself a glass of punch and went over to congratulate Dave, who was now loitering near the entrance of the tent as if to prepare himself for a speedy exit. “Hey, Dave, how are you holding up?”

  “Fine. Fine. Fine. Fine,” Dave said nervously.

  “You seem a little tense,” Haley said. “I can certainly understand that. But Mr. Von’s not a bad guy I bet once you get used to having him around you’ll grow to really—”

  “That’s not what’s making me tense,” Dave said. “It’s RoBro! He’s in a very fragile state right now.”

  Haley sensed Dave was projecting. “So it’s official? RoBro! has been unveiled?”

  “We prefer the word born,” Dave insisted. “Ro-Bro! was just born yesterday. Twenty pounds, five ounces, thirty-four inches tall.”

  “Congratulations. You’re a brother!”

  Dave smiled nervously. “Thank you. I’m excited. I really love the little guy. You should see him now, Haley. He’s so adorable and he says the cutest things.”

  “Really? I would like to see him.”

  “But I worry about him. I’m afraid Hannah and I might have let him be born prematurely. That’s why I have to check on him every fifteen minutes, to make sure he’s warm enough, getting enough electricity and functioning properly.”

  “I see.” Poor Dave was really losing it over this robot brother of his. Haley remembered what it was like to be an only child—she was nine when her brother, Mitchell, was born—and frankly, she’d never minded one bit being the only child in the house. It was little brothers who were the pain in the neck. Why would you want to create one if you didn’t have to?

  Haley heard the ding-ding-ding sound of fork against glass and turned to see Mr. Von standing on a chair, trying to get the party’s attention.

  “My dear friends and companions in life’s long and mysterious journey,” he said. “I’d like to take a moment to say a few words.” The guests quieted down and gathered around Mr. Von. “The day I met Nora is the day my life turned around,” he said. “She’s the paint, I’m the brush, and together we’re creating a beautiful canvas of our lives.”

  “Awww,” said a few people in the crowd.

  “And so, as you all know, I asked Nora to join me on life’s meandering road, to take my hand in marriage. To my great honor, she accepted.”

  Everyone clapped.

  “And now I’d like to ask someone else to join us on our cosmic trip through the universe,” Mr. Von continued. “Dave, would you come up here?”

  Dave looked at Haley in terror, his hands shaking violently. “Go on, he won’t bite you. He’s vegetarian,” Haley said, nudging Dave toward his stepfather-to-be.

  Dave stood in front of Mr. Von as Nora took her son’s shaking hand. “David, tonight I ask you if you would do me the great honor of becoming my son.” Mr. Von raised his glass. “Dave, will you become our Dave Metzger-Von or Dave Von-Metzger? Whichever you prefer.”

  Nora beamed at Dave and squeezed his hand. Dave’s eyes widened; he stared around the tent as if at a tribunal announcing his death sentence. An overreaction, sure, Haley thought. But maybe Mr. Von shouldn’t have sprung this on a temperamental guy like Dave in public.

  “What do you say, Dave?” Mr. Von made a toasting motion with his glass, and the rest of the crowd followed suit. “To David Metzger-Von or Von-Metzger!”

  People clinked glasses and drank while Dave stammered, “Um—um—I’ve got s-something to do.” He dashed through the mob of guests and disappeared into the garage. Nora looked concerned as she watched him go.

  “He’s just checking on RoBro!” Haley assured her. “He’ll be back.”

  “Who?” Nora said, and Haley realized she had no idea what Haley was talking about.

  More platters of food appeared, and soon everybody at the party was busy eating, drinking and chatting. Haley sat down at a picnic table with Annie, Alex, Irene, Shaun and a plateful of dilled salmon on pumpernickel.

  “Has Dave come back from the garage yet?” she asked.

  “No, I haven’t seen him,” Alex said.

  “He and Hannah won’t stop fussing with that RoBro!” Annie said. “I’m starting to worry about him. Them. Well, mostly Dave.”

  “You’re just starting to worry about him?” Irene said. “The guy’s been off his chair from day one.”

  “What’s this Bro-Ro yous keep talking about?” Shaun asked. “And when can I meet him?”

  “I wish Dave would get back here,” Annie said. “He’s missing the whole party.”

  “I think that may be the point,” Alex offered.

  “Maybe something’s really wrong with RoBro!” Haley said, shrugging.

  “RoBro!?” Shaun asked. “Or is it or BoR!?”

  “I’m going to go check on him,” Annie said.

  “I’ll come with you,” Haley said.

  “I’ll go too,” Alex said.

  “And we’ll stay here and eat,” Irene said. “If it’s all the same to you.”

  Haley, Alex and Annie made their way out to the garage, but Dave wasn’t there. He was in the driveway with Hannah. RoBro! was lying flat on his back in an old red wagon, hooked up to the battery of Annie’s electric car by an array of colorful cables.

  “Dave, what are you doing?” Haley asked.

  “Giving him a transfusion,” Dave said. “He needs constant energy or he fades away. I need to resuscitate him!”

  “Thanks for asking my permission, Dave,” Annie said. “You’re going to drain my battery. How am I supposed to get home?”

  “I’ll recharge it,” Dave promised. He and Hannah returned to their emergency surgery as Annie, Haley and Alex plopped down on the curb.

  “Your car is really sweet, Annie,” Haley said. “I hope my parents will let me have something like this for my birthday.”

  “Have you been practicing for that driving test?” Annie asked. “Because I’m telling you, it’s a bear. It’s harder than AP Calculus, AP Trigonometry and AP Physics combined.”

  “Actually, I’ve hardly had any practice time at all,” Haley said. “My parents are always too busy to take me out driving. I don’t think they realize how soon my birthday is coming up.”

  “Don’t worry, Haley,” Alex said. “You’ll do great on your driving test. I’ve always admired your hand-eye coordination.”

  “Wow. Thanks.” It was a strange sort of compliment, but Haley felt her face warm pleasantly. Alex was, after all, incredibly cute, and a senior, and a shoo-in to be named Most Likely to Succeed.

  “Are you serious? You absolutely need to practice,” Annie exclaimed. “In fact, I’ll help you. Whenever you want. Just let me know.”

  “Thanks, Annie.” Haley was slightly disappointed. She’d been hoping Alex would offer to take her out for a spin.

  “Well, it sounds like you’ll be pretty busy with all the driving,” Alex said, “but I could really use some help with the preparations for the inaugural ball, if you can spare the time.”

  “Could you please keep it down?” Dave said. “RoBro! needs his rest, and you’re exciting him.”

  Haley glanced at Alex, who made a “don’t say it” face. Haley said it anyway.

  “I think Dave’s mother’s engagement is really getting to him,” she whispered to Annie. “Like in a it’s-time-for-therapy sort of way.” Annie nodded reluctantly.

  “Mr. Von’s toast didn’t help,” Alex said. “Dave has already made it abundantly clear he doesn’t want to be Dave Von-Metzger. So why don’t his mom and soon-to-be-stepfather know that?”

  “I just hope Mr. Von doesn’t press the issue,” Haley said with a sideways glance at Dave, who was patting RoBro!’s face as if the machine were a living, breathing, sleeping child. “Dave seems to be acting out some deep-seated family issues.”

  “You’re not kidding,” Annie whispered. “Yesterday he called me Mom.”

  Dave seems to be on the brink of the deep end, but then, he often seems that way. Something—maybe
the steady love of his girlfriend, Annie—always manages to pull him back from the edge just in time. Haley’s sympathetic, but does she need to get on board this emotional roller coaster? She’s got her own family and her own problems to deal with.

  If you think Haley has put off learning to drive for long enough and had better get busy if she wants to get her license in February, send her off to, DRIVING PRACTICE.

  If you think Haley should start hanging with a more upscale crowd, have her go help Alex, INAUGURATION.

  Lastly, if you think Haley needs a break from all this craziness and should take a five-minute chill, send her home, ON THE SCALE.

  POLITICAL PREP

  Politics makes strange bedfellows, but it makes even weirder friends with benefits.

  Haley arrived at Alex’s house ready to do whatever she could to help him get ready for the big inaugural ball; still, she wasn’t expecting flash cards.

  They took their coffee into the den, ready to work, and Alex handed her a big stack of photos—portraits of prominent people, with their names and notes about their political tastes and affiliations on the back. It was Haley’s job to hold up the photos one at a time and quiz Alex on the details.

  She flashed him a picture of a wrinkled, white-haired old man with a bow tie and cane.

  “Eli Morgenstern,” Alex said. “Republican, retired head of Morgenstern Investments …”

  “Wife?” Haley prompted.

  “Diana Rieff Morgenstern, on the board of the Philharmonic and the Museum of Modern Art, secret Democrat.”

  “Good.” An important part of Alex’s job was helping Mrs. Eton work the crowd at the ball, and to remember who was who in case she forgot a name or something important about a particular guest’s background. Haley held up another photo, this one showing an elegant, thirtyish woman in a chignon and pearls.

  “Carrie Sargent, a public relations executive …”

  “Where?” Haley asked.

  “Holland Associates?” Alex guessed.

  “Right. Anything else about her?”

  “Hmm, Sargent … Oh! Her father’s head of the public TV station in the city.”

  “And?”

  “And … her sister is a lawyer in the state’s attorney general’s office. The sister’s name is … Martha Sargent Koppel.”

  “And?”

  “And Carrie and Martha like to ride horses in Central Park.”

  “Excellent.” Haley put the stack of pictures down, having run through all of them twice. “You’re in pretty good shape on guest trivia. What’s next?”

  “Tomorrow I’m confirming all the live music for inauguration day. What do you think of this lineup? The New Jersey Brass Orchestra for the ceremony itself, the Montclair String Quartet for the post -ceremony reception. Then, for the ball, the Joe Henderson Sextet during cocktails and dinner, Monty Mason’s Swing Band for dancing—featuring Helen Taymor, this cabaret singer Mrs. Eton loves—followed by the Jazzcats for the wind-down. I tried to book Springsteen, but he said no.”

  “He’s a famous Dem,” Haley said.

  Alex shrugged. “I had to give it a shot. This is Jersey, after all.”

  Haley laughed. “That sounds perfect—something for everyone except the punks and the rappers, who, come to think of it, probably won’t be in attendance. Now what’s this?” She pointed to a large sheet of paper diagrammed with numbered circles.

  “Ugh, the seating chart,” Alex said. “It’s like a logic problem on the LSATs—impossible. Mrs. Eton wants to match charity heads with deep pockets, and sprinkle some local celebs generously throughout so that no one feels left out, and at the same time make sure no mortal enemies are seated together, near each other or in each other’s sight lines across the crowded room.”

  “Sounds like fun,” Haley said. “Let’s get to work.” She picked up the guest list and started studying it. To her surprise, she recognized a lot of the names on it. Her mother had worked with a lot of the politicians, lawyers and businesspeople on the list, and her filmmaker father knew some of the local artists and arts administrators. Haley had absorbed information about these people by osmosis, just by sitting at the dinner table with her parents. She never realized how much she’d picked up from their conversations.

  “Mort Jarvis thinks of himself as a philanthropist.” Alex pointed to a name on the list. “He’s loaded, and he likes to give to educational causes.”

  “Teresa Chandler,” Haley said, picking out another name on the list. “She runs Princeton’s financial aid office. Plus she just got divorced, and Mort Jarvis is a widower, isn’t he?”

  “Perfect,” Alex said, jotting down notes. “We’ll put them at table five, with the head of the Rutgers philosophy department and Alice Shaw, who gives a lot of money to the ballet.”

  “The Rutgers philosophy department—you mean Brian Hooper?” Haley asked. Alex nodded. “Those two can’t be together. They used to date!”

  “Whoops.” Alex crossed out Alice Shaw. “What about Catherine Yardley? She’s Mrs. Eton’s press secretary.”

  “I guess that’s okay,” Haley said. “As long as she doesn’t bring up Mrs. Eton’s cuts to the education budget.”

  “Don’t worry, she won’t,” Alex said. “Everybody knows that’s a touchy subject.”

  They worked their way through the guest list until all the tables were filled and all potential snubbings and feuds avoided. Haley insisted that Alex sample all the hors d’oeuvres the caterer was serving before the ball and that every vendor, from the decorator to the musicians, was triple-confirmed a week in advance to avoid unpleasant surprises.

  “You’re really amazing at this, Haley.” Alex leaned back, tired and ready to relax. “I had no idea you knew so much about local politics.”

  “Ha,” Haley said. “You know what? Neither did I!”

  “Well, I’m impressed,” Alex said. “I couldn’t have pulled this off without you.”

  “Thanks,” Haley said. “It was fun.”

  They retired to the kitchen. “I’m starving.” Alex opened the freezer and pulled out a gallon of vanilla ice cream. “Join me in a hot fudge sundae?”

  “Just what I’m in the mood for,” Haley said. She scooped ice cream into bowls while Alex heated up the sauce.

  “You do deserve a reward for helping me out,” Alex said.

  “Agreed,” Haley said flirtatiously.

  “The thing is, I had something a little more meaningful in mind,” Alex said. “Haley, would you like to be my date to the inauguration? Before you say no, you pinko commie bleeding heart liberal, you should know you’d be doing me a huge favor, from heading off any unforeseen seating chart disasters, to helping me remember all those people on my flash cards.”

  “Is that the only reason you want me to go, my right wing neocon friend?” Haley asked, smirking.

  “N-no,” Alex stammered. “It’s just, this whole event would be a lot more fun if you were by my side. There. I said it. So what do you say, Haley? Be my date?”

  Wow, the inauguration! A high-profile, black-tie affair and probably the biggest social event of the year. That’s some fancy date for our little Haley. But, as Alex said, she deserves to go after all the hard work she’s done on the preparations. If you think Haley would love to go to the ball with Prince Alex, turn to, INAUGURATION.

  But is the inauguration really a romantic date, or is Alex just using Haley’s sociopolitical smarts to make himself look good? Maybe you think Alex is not foremost in Haley’s mind at the moment, and that other boys—namely one Reese Highland—have been secretly dominating her thoughts in recent days. Alex’s offer is tempting, but if Haley lets too much time pass before dealing with the Reese issue, he could slip through her fingers for good. If you think Haley needs to speak her mind to Reese and get a few things off her chest before she can move on, turn to, MAN DOWN.

  Finally, Haley must be wiped after all this volunteer work. To have her take a breather, send her home for a rest, ON THE SCALE.
/>   EVERYTHING IN

  MODERATION

  Sometimes extreme circumstances call for moderate measures.

  “You’re eating that?” Coco sniffed at the chicken breast and steamed broccoli Haley was eating for lunch. “You know what they say: a moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips.”

  “It’s a lean, skinless, broiled chicken breast with no sauce,” Haley said. “It’s almost pure protein. No carbs. Plus broccoli is, like, packed with vitamins and has almost zero calories. You can’t get much less fattening than this.”

  “Whatever you say.” Coco sipped her hot water with lemon.

  It was the first day back at school after winter vacation. Haley had gotten up early that morning to go for a long run. It was freezing cold outside, but she had to admit she felt pretty great afterward, and her cheeks retained a rosy glow.

  Coco’s New Year’s Eve speech had inspired her, in a way. She was furious with Reese for what he’d done in the Caribbean, and she wanted to be at her best when she confronted him. She also wanted to do something to boost her energy levels and to help herself feel better, so that Reese’s betrayal wouldn’t leave her feeling depressed. So, she was exercising more than usual, drinking a lot of water, eating more fruits and vegetables and cutting out foods that clouded up her system, like heavy sweets and simple starches in the packaged breads and crackers category. Overall, she thought she was doing pretty well. She’d shed three pounds of baby fat and was looking tall and lean, but still had respectable curves.