by S. C. Davis
I don’t have time for this, I thought, irritated. I was surprised at my attitude towards Alma, especially after my realization that I was the one who had been neglecting her ever since the science project started.
But I had arrived at school that day excited to tell the others about Dr. Wyatt and his office hours. Alma’s moping was a buzz-kill that I wasn’t inclined to tolerate.
“Well, Alma, how’s that psychologist aunt of yours? I noticed I haven’t been dragged off in a straight-jacket yet. Guess that must have fallen through, huh?” I said with more attitude than I had planned.
I had no idea why I said it at all. I could already see the hurt on Alma's face. In my head, I blamed it on the stress of the science project and the tight deadline, but deep down I also knew it had something to do with my new group of friends. Something about Alma's protectiveness over me had become irritating.
None of my new friends would treat me like that. Why couldn’t she just mind her own business? But still, as soon as I had spoken, I regretted it. I didn’t even give Alma a chance to respond before I made my cowardly escape.
“Be back in a quick second,” I said.
For the next fifteen minutes I breezed around the cafeteria, going to each of the other science kids in turn to talk about Dr. Wyatt and his Sunday office hours. I took a minute to sit and chat with each one, too.
As I was laughing hysterically with Alexandra over an Aliens joke she made, I happened to look up and lock eyes with Alma from across the cafeteria. She immediately looked away and pretended to laugh at something Ashton had said, even though none of the others at the table were laughing.
By the time I finished talking to everyone, we had agreed on a plan. We would all meet at Wes's family's coffee shop downtown at ten o'clock on Sunday morning, then walk together to the college.
Mom had given me his lab room number and said she would leave a note with the physics department administrative assistant about our visit. She told me she would let me borrow her key to the building too, in case it was locked.
I started walking back to my table, glancing at the clock. Five minutes left of lunch. That was plenty of time to slurp down a thermos of tomato soup and crush a few saltines.
I walked with a new spring in my step. I was feeling good about things. I couldn't explain it and didn't want to admit it even to myself, but I was actually excited about the project, as if it was going to be so much more than it seemed. Something told me it was the start of the adventure I had been craving, but I couldn't put my finger on why.
When I got to the table and sat down, still smiling, Alma stood up abruptly.
“I've got library duty next period,” she said, and walked off.
Every seventh grader was on a rotating schedule to spend a class period in the library helping sixth graders. Because of the number of seventh graders, it ended up being only once or twice per year for each of us.
But here’s the thing: I could have sworn Alma already served her library period just a few weeks before. In fact, I was sure of it. Alma was simply giving me the slip now. I immediately felt a sense of relief to have her out of my hair…then I felt guilty for it.
Chapter 13
Herding Cats at Jenna’s House
ON SUNDAY MORNING I left the house a few minutes before ten and began the short walk to the coffee shop downtown. Wes's parents had opened it earlier in the year, adding to their portfolio of two other cafes in neighboring towns and one small specialty foods store near the college.
I came to the coffee shop every now and again on rainy days when I wanted to get out of the house. I would take a book or my homework, get a dark chocolate banana smoothie, and spend an hour or two mostly people-watching. Alma would usually come meet me. It felt strange to be meeting someone there other than her.
I arrived at the coffee shop a few minutes early to find Alexandra already in line, so I joined her. It was a cold morning in early fall, so I had decided I wanted something warm rather than my usual smoothie. Hot cider sounded perfect.
Alexandra smiled when I joined her in line. “Have you been here before?” she said.
“Yeah, all the time,” I said.
Alexandra lived out in the suburbs, so she wasn't as familiar with the town as I was. I always felt a bit of pride over the fact that I lived downtown and could literally walk anywhere, including school.
Somehow it made me feel more experienced or cultured or something. I got to be around people other than just my own family, and I knew my way around better than anyone.
“What's good here?” she asked, turning toward the chalkboard menu high up on the wall over the counter.
“I usually get a smoothie, but since it's cold today, I'm going to get their hot cider. It's delicious. If you like cider, that is,” I said.
Alexandra scrunched her nose.
“Nah, I've gotta get something with espresso in it,” she said.
I chuckled and looked at her to make sure she was serious and not just making fun of the coffee shop culture. She looked at me and smiled, blushing a bit.
“I'm serious! I know, it's weird. I have kind of an addiction to coffee, though,” she said.
“Aren't you a little young for that?” I said.
“It's all my cousin's fault. I spent a few weeks with her over the summer in Boston. She's really cool. She goes to Harvard and has her own apartment.
“She’s never gotten along with my older sisters, even though they're closer in age. She told me I’m her favorite cousin. My sisters never got invited to go stay with her in Boston,” she said triumphantly.
I don't have siblings, so I always found the extreme competition that seemed to exist between them confusing. But I was glad to hear that Alexandra had at least something that her sisters didn't, even if it was just the attention of a cool older cousin.
“Anyway, she has to have coffee or espresso like twice a day. I guess she rubbed off on me,” Alexandra said, shrugging.
Somehow I got the feeling that the “addiction” was forced, and more of a conversation-starter than an actual love for the bitter, dark liquid. I personally couldn’t stand it.
Just then I heard Chase and Ethan chatting as they walked in the door together. They were talking about that stupid show again. Then Wes came out of the kitchen behind the counter, tossed aside a floury apron, and joined us on the other side. I was a bit intrigued.
“Do you bake?” I asked, tilting my head curiously.
“Yeah,” he responded, with a look that seemed to say “doesn't everyone?”. Interesting; another twelve-year-old who likes to cook. Every day I learned something new and surprising about these kids. None of them were turning out to be who I thought they were.
Finally, Britta breezed through the door, and she was filthy. She had dirt smudged on her face, and she wore muddy muck boots that went up to her knees. Wes reacted quickly enough to keep her from walking into the coffee shop, and gestured for her to stay on the floor mat. Britta looked frantic.
“I'm so sorry I'm late! I was helping harvest pumpkins at the farm this morning. We got the wagon stuck and it was just a huge mess,” she said.
We all looked her up and down. “Mess” was an understatement.
“Jenna!” she said suddenly, startling me.
“What?” I said defensively, as if she were about to tell me it was my fault or something.
“You live close, right? Please, please let me come borrow some of your clothes and wash my face. I swear it will just take a second,” she begged.
Seriously? Now I had to take this whole crew to my house? How embarrassing, and how risky. What if Mom started asking questions about the project? What if the boys made fun of my room? What if my dad made a bunch of cheesy jokes?
I attempted to refute the request. “Well, no, it's not far, but it's in the opposite direction from the college.”
But Britta's disappointed face quickly got to me, and I caved in. I really didn't have a good reason to say no, anyway.
/> “That's okay,” said Chase. “We'll walk quickly to make up for it.” I definitely couldn't say no to Chase.
“This way,” I said, and we walked back toward Olive Street.
I sent Mom a quick text as we walked, so she wouldn't be surprised when I walked in with five other kids. As soon as we got there, I attempted to herd everyone into the kitchen, hoping they would stay put.
Having them all see the inside of my home felt so weirdly personal. I had grown to like them all, but none of them were in “come to my house” friend territory yet.
“Stay here. We'll be right back,” I said to the others as I whisked Britta off to my room. I pulled out a few pairs of shoes from my closet for her to try on.
“Do you have some socks too? And, maybe some pants? I kinda regret the cotton skirt today. It's pretty cold outside,” she asked with a small laugh, seeming embarrassed by her misjudgment.
I couldn’t stay annoyed with her. I tossed her some socks and a pair of clean jeans.
“Here, try these,” I said. “They’ll be big on you, but I don't think I have any of the stuff I've grown out of anymore.”
“These will be just fine, thank you. I owe you,” she said. I waved it off and showed her to the bathroom so she could wash her hands and face. I grabbed her dirty clothes and boots and headed downstairs to drop them off in the wash room.
We had been upstairs for no more than two or three minutes, but when I got downstairs, no one was in the kitchen anymore. In fact, no one was in the same spot at all.
Ethan was in my dad's office looking through books on his shelf. When I stopped short in the hallway and stared at him, he said, “Oh! Your dad said Alexandra and I could borrow some of his books on oceanography and cartography.”
I leaned further into the office and saw Alexandra in the big corner chair, sipping on her espresso beverage with Parsley tucked into her lap. She held up her cup as if to “cheers” me. I didn't even bother to ask why in the world they wanted to read about oceanography and map-making. Dad’s work had never interested me, that’s for sure.
Shaking my head, I rushed to the wash room to drop off Britta’s clothes and to see where everyone else was. Suddenly, beautiful piano music drifted down the hall. I was confused; our piano hadn’t been played in ages. I headed toward the formal living room where the piano was, but Ethan bolted past me once he had heard it too.
“Oh, sure, don't worry Ethan, I got this!” Alexandra called out from the office, annoyed that she now had to deal with the pile of books he had pulled out herself.
When I entered the living room, I saw that Mom had cleaned all the books and decorations off of the old dusty piano. Wes was sitting on the bench, playing a beautiful melody that was nothing like the hard rock I was used to hearing him play with his band.
I couldn't believe the piano was even in tune. Maybe it wasn't, and he was just that good. I felt a little twinge of...something. I had found it so stereotypically nerdy when I learned that Ethan played classical piano, yet I was more than impressed to hear Wes play.
Mom stood behind him looking as if she were going to cry. Wes was the musically-inclined child she never had. It sure wasn't me. Ethan stood looking over Wes's shoulder as if he desperately wanted to find something to correct about his playing, but came up with nothing.
As charmed as even I was by the piano music, I shook my head and walked back through the kitchen to the den on the other side. There I found Dad and Chase, engaged in some lively discussion about football while Thursday night's highlights played on the huge TV in front of them.
Dad was all decked out in his Saints jersey, waiting for the game to come on in a few hours. He grew up in New Orleans, and had been a loyal Saints fan his whole life. While his Creole accent was only still there in traces, when his “boys” played, it came out in full force.
“You can take the boy out of the bayou, but you can't take the bayou out of the boy!” Dad always said with a laugh.
Fortunately, he wasn't all worked up just yet since the game hadn't started. Even still, he was tame compared to how excited Alma's family got during Jets games.
Suddenly I felt an overwhelming sense of dread pass over me. Alma. Football. Sunday. I had promised her I would come over today, like I did every week. In the midst of our plans to visit Dr. Wyatt, I had completely forgotten about it.
I looked up at the clock and saw it was almost eleven. We still had about two hours before the game started. Even though I always went over to Alma's an hour or two early, I could get by with just showing up on time.
“Guys! We've got to head out, let's go!” I said loudly.
No reaction. The piano continued, as did laughter from the den, Alexandra playing with a squeaky toy with Parsley, and was that the shower I heard upstairs?! It was like herding cats.
I headed back toward the living room, prepared to give Mom that panicked “help me, do something!” glance that only a mother could translate. Before I got the chance, she spoke first.
“Jenna, I forgot to tell you, Alma called a couple times after you left this morning.”
“Why would she call the house?” I said as I pulled out my cell phone. Then I saw the notification: “Alma: (3) Missed Calls”. Shoot! My phone must have been silenced. I couldn't stand to hear disappointment in her voice, so I started to write a text to her instead.
'Hey! Sorry I missed your calls, I was out walking Parsley and didn't have my phone. I'm heading to the grocery store with Mom now but I wanted to text you really quick to tell you that I will try really hard to be there by kick-off!'
As I finished the message off with three or four smiling emojis, the doorbell rang. Probably FedEx or something. I hit send, then walked back toward the kitchen to try to rally the troops again. I could see into the den, where my dad was just opening the door.
There stood Alma.
My heart leapt up into my throat.
“Hey Sugar Bean!” my Dad greeted her with the pet name he had given her years before.
“Hi Mr. Wallace,” she said, her eyes falling onto Chase, who leaned forward on the couch watching the television. He nodded his head and said “What’s up, Alma”. She returned a small wave, but her forehead crinkled in confusion. Then her eyes traveled up to meet mine.
I was prepared to grab her and run her back out the door, make up some stupid lie about how I was going out with Chase now or something, and she would get all excited and giddy, and she would give me a free pass on football today so I could spend time with my new beau, and tomorrow at school she would be so happy for me that she would forget all about being mad at me, and—
Another daydream interrupted. Apparently the troops decided to rally at the most inconvenient time for me.
At that moment Parsley shot past my legs pursued by Alexandra, who had engaged him in a lively game of tug. Then came Ethan, his arms full of a stack of Dad's books. He took them over to Dad to show him which ones he'd chosen, and they started talking excitedly about the content of each.
Then came Mom and Wes, as he wrapped up a story about the first symphony he attended. Mom seemed mesmerized. Great, I thought, now Mom's going to be all like “why can't you be more like Wes”. And the icing on the cake: Britta appeared all fresh and clean, wearing my clothes.
“Oh hi sweetie!” Mom shrieked when she saw Alma. She loves Alma. “Well now it's really a party!”
The worst part about all this was that I could not read Alma's face. She was my best friend. We knew everything about each other. We had seen each other's best and worst sides. But this time, her face looked completely expressionless.
For the first time, I had no idea what she was thinking or feeling. I would have rather seen rage on her face than nothing at all.
She nodded as if something was clear to her now. “I can't stay, I just…wanted to see if you were still coming today, Jenna. You look pretty busy, though, so how about we take a rain check until next week.”
She started to turn back toward the door. Th
e others had gotten back into their own conversations, and though the room was full I felt like it was empty except for the two of us. I couldn't come up with anything to say.
As soon as she started to open the door, her phone made a chirp. She pulled it out of her pocket with her gloved hand and read something. I had another mini heart attack.
The text message!
I felt every second that passed made me less worthy of her time, her forgiveness, or her friendship. And I had absolutely nothing to say for myself. Who was I? What was with all the lies lately?
As she read, she crumpled her forehead once more in confusion. Then it softened. She looked back up at me, shook her head, and turned and left.
Chapter 14
Solar Panels and Strange Smells
I WAS RATHER QUIET during the fifteen-minute walk from my house to the college campus, thinking about Alma and what was going on with our friendship. Was she just jealous that I was making new friends, or was I really neglecting her more than I even realized?
It's true that I had forgotten about football that day, but was there more that I wasn’t seeing? I had been keeping her out of all the science group stuff, but up until recently that was only because I was embarrassed to be a part of it. Now, it was because I was changing; Alma wouldn’t understand.
Once we reached the science building, I shook off thoughts of Alma. I got out the key Mom had lent me, but the door was unlocked. Mom had told us Dr. Wyatt's lab was on the lower floor, so we found the stairs and headed down.
As we walked down the hallway, we could see that several labs had their doors open with a few people working inside. Some sat at computers, some in front of microscopes, some scrubbing things in sinks.
Dr. Wyatt's lab ended up being all the way at the end of the hall. As expected, his door was open, but I still felt a little nervous going inside. We were just a bunch of kids, and he a brilliant scientist. Would he even waste his time helping us?
