My Best Frenemy

by Julie Bowe

  I nod and give her a wave. “Bye, ” I say.

  “Bye, ” Stacey says back. Then she turns around and jingles away.

  I climb on the bus. The driver shuts the door.

  I’m the last one on, so it’s crowded. I slide in next to Jenna.

  The bus pulls away from the curb and we rumble down the street.

  “Thanks for trying to get me out of trouble at lunch, ” I say, glancing at Jenna.

  “I didn’t try to get you out of trouble,” Jenna says. “I was trying to get Quinn into trouble. For calling me a baby last week. ”

  “Oh, ” I say. “Sorry. My mistake. ”

  I pick at a crack in the seat cushion. “But if you wanted to get back at someone,” I say, “why not Randi? She’s the one who put the mouse on my tray, plus she made you tell Zane that you like him. ”

  “That was on Monday, ” Jenna says. “Quinn teased me about sucking my thumb last week. You have to get back at people in the right order. ”

  The bus turns a corner and then slows to a stop. A couple of little kids get off and we start moving again.

  Jenna glances at me. “Stacey’s mad at you, isn’t she?”

  “No, ” I say. “She’s not mad. ”

  Jenna clicks her tongue and looks away. She puts the side of her bare fist on the bus window, holding it against the frost.

  I give her left braid a frown. “Why?” I say. “Do you think she’s mad? ”

  Jenna shrugs and pulls her fist away, leaving a curved shape in the frost. She melts five fingertip circles at the top of the shape. Altogether, it looks like a little footprint. “It’s just . . . you know, ” she says. “She didn’t squeeze your arm. ”

  I do a snort. “So? ”

  Jenna turns to me. “So-o,” she says, “Stacey always squeezes the other person’s arm when she says good-bye. Haven’t you noticed? ”

  I fidget a little. “No. ”

  “Well, she does.” Jenna looks past me and does a big sparkly smile. A Stacey smile. “Bye!... squeeze. Bye! . . . squeeze. Bye! . . . squeeze.” She squeezes her hand into a fist each time she says it. Then she makes her face go normal again. “It’s like a pattern with her. ”

  Jenna turns back to the window and presses her fist against the glass.

  I face forward and rub my unsqueezed arm.

  “She’s not mad at me, ” I say.

  Jenna clicks her tongue again.

  Dear Stella,

  Today was the worst day of my Life. Even worse than that time I got my toe caught in those bike spokes. Today I got sent to the principal’s office! The only good thing about getting sent there was that Ms. Stevens didn’t tell my parents. I don’t plan on telling them either.

  But the bad thing was I spilled the beans on my friends. We all got in trouble for playing truth or dare, and now everyone is secretly mad at me. Even Stacey. At Least that’s what Jenna thinks, and I’m starting to think so too. Partly because Stacey did not squeeze my arm good-bye, and partly because all of the other girls said “We’re not mad!” all sweet and swirly. Like cotton candy. But when they turned away it was Like their words melted into nothing.

  The only one who doesn’t seem mad is Jenna. In fact, she seems happy that everyone else is mad.

  I guess that’s typical for a frenemy.

  Bye,

  Ida

  P.S. Stacey promised she would try to call me tonight. But she didn’t.

  Chapter 12

  When class starts the next day I try to pretend like everything is normal even though I know it isn’t. I keep catching the other girls’ glances. Sometimes they smile, but they aren’t the kind that stick. No one is mean to me, but no one is going out of their way to be nice to me either.

  And guess who gets to be the odd girl out when Mr. Crow tells us to pair up and do an English worksheet? Me. No one invites me to triple up. Not even Stacey, who is with Brooke.

  During recess, I memorize all the messages written on the inside of the third stall in the girls’ bathroom.

  GS + V R

  CU L8R!

  KAI = X BF

  It takes me until the bell rings to do the whole stall, which means I don’t have time to meet up with the other girls at the snow fort.

  At lunch it feels like everyone is reading from a script instead of just talking. Like they’re afraid that a microphone is hidden in the pocket of my hoodie and everything they say is being pumped straight to Ms. Stevens’s office.

  When it’s time for our second recess, I memorize the second bathroom stall.

  After school, I walk with Stacey through the park to Miss Woo’s dance studio. Stacey has dance class today with all the other girls, except Randi. And me. The other girls aren’t walking with us, like they usually do.

  We stop in front of the Purdee Good Café. It’s right across the street from Miss Woo’s. We always meet here after Stacey’s done with dance and share a giant cookie. Then, when Stacey’s mom is done working, she gives me a ride home.

  Thursdays are the best days because of the giant cookies. And all the stuff that goes with them.

  But today when we stop in front of the café something feels different. Like the air between us is colder than usual, and not just because it’s winter.

  I grab the handle on the door, but I don’t pull it open. I glance at Stacey. “See you after dance?” I say.

  “Um . . . ” Stacey says. “I can’t today. ” She taps snow off her boots. Her jingle bell laces dance and ring.

  I squeeze the handle tighter. “Why not? ”

  “Because . . . um . . . Brooke invited me over to her house so we can start planning our shapes snack. We both got circles. ”

  Mr. Crow assigned all of us geometric shapes today. Circles, triangles, squares. Even stars. Next week, we have to bring a snack to share that looks like our shape.

  “But circles are easy,” I say. “Practically every snack is shaped like one. Cookies. Donuts. Bananas, if you slice them. Besides, we don’t have to bring the snacks until Monday. Can’t you and Brooke do it over the weekend? ”

  Stacey taps her boots again. “Sorry,” she says. “I already promised.” Stacey glances across the street and waves to Brooke, Meeka, and Jolene. They watch us for a moment, then slip inside Miss Woo’s. “Plus, there’s something else. ”

  “What? ”

  “We had a secret meeting in the snow fort today. Brooke decided you can’t be in our group anymore. Not unless you do a triple-dog dare. ”

  My eyes start to sting and I blink fast. “What did you say? ”

  “I said it’s no fair for one person to decide that, so . . . we did a vote. ”

  “And? Did you vote me out? ”

  Stacey nods. “Not me, of course. But it was four against two so, you know, majority rules. ”

  I let my hand fall from the handle.

  Stacey starts to cross the street. She stops and turns. “I’m sorry, Ida, ” she says. “Really. I’ll still be your friend even if you don’t do a triple-dog dare, okay? ”

  I nod and blink faster. But not fast enough to keep up with my tears.

  Stacey is all the way across the street when I suddenly remember something she said about the vote. She said it was four to two.

  “Stacey!” I yell. “Who else voted to keep me in? ”

  But Stacey’s already headed into Miss Woo’s.

  I wipe my eyes and step inside the Purdee Good.

  Brooke’s sister, Jade, and another high school girl, Meghan, are huddled at the counter, talking fast to each other. They look up when I walk in. When they see that it’s just me, they go back to talking.

  “One skinny mocha, extra cream,” Kelli says, setting a mug that’s as big as a cereal bowl in front of Jade. “And one chocolate chai with cream, hold the nutmeg. ” She sets another mug in front of Meghan.

  “Thank you!” Jade and Meghan say together. They lift the mugs to their lips and start sucking cream.

  There’s an empty stool next to Ja
de, so I put my backpack on it and scoot onto the next one over. I pull off my gloves, but I don’t bother to take off my coat and hat. In fact, I wonder why I’m hanging around at all since Stacey isn’t going to show up. I think about calling my mom to see if she will come and get me. I could walk home from here, but my legs aren’t feeling very walkable right now.

  “Rough day?” Kelli asks. She wipes up a ring of water on the counter and gives me a smile.

  I nod.

  Kelli leans in, resting her elbows on the counter. She smells spicy. Probably from all the cooking that goes on around here. And fruity. Probably from all the gel in her short, spiky hair. It’s a friendly way to smell.

  “Will a cookie help? ” she asks.

  “Probably not,” I say, pulling off my hat and setting it on my backpack. “But I’ll have one anyway.”

  Kelli walks over to a glass case that sits at the far end of the counter. She takes out a giant chocolate chip cookie, puts it on a plate, and brings it back to me. “This one has extra chips, ” she whispers, and sets down the plate.

  “Thanks, ” I say. “Did you know Stacey is going to Brooke’s after dance? ”

  Kelli nods. “She texted me. Something about a homework assignment? ”

  “Something like that, ” I say.

  Kelli picks up a coffeepot. “I can still give you a ride home if you want, ” she says.

  “That’s okay, ” I say back. “I can use the exercise. ”

  Kelli carries the coffeepot to a booth where three women are sharing a slice of lemon meringue pie.

  “Want to talk about it? ” I hear someone say.

  I glance up. Jade is studying me with her very blue eyes. Well, today they’re very blue. Sometimes they’re very green. Sometimes brown, which I think is her real color.

  Meghan does a little snort. She gives Jade a nudge.

  Jade lets her perfectly smooth face crack into a sweet smile. Too sweet. The bands on her braces match her black outfit. And her black hair. She cups a few loose strands behind her ear. It’s a small ear, like a doll’s dish, but she can still fit three earrings on it. Her other ear—the one that’s hidden under her hair—is even smaller and curled up tight, like a baby’s fist. I know because I saw it once. Jade can’t even hear out of it. Brooke told us.

  “Talk about what? ” I say back.

  “You know,” Jade says, leaning in. “Your bad day? ”

  Meghan lets another snort slip.

  Jade tries to hide her real smile behind the rim of her coffee mug.

  I know they’re teasing me. I knew it even before the first snort. Jade can be nice when it’s just her and you. Like when she’s babysitting. Then she lets you stay up late and watch PG-13 movies, and sometimes she will even paint your toenails if you’ve taken a bath first. That’s how I saw her baby-fist ear. She pulled her hair back with a scrunchy so it wouldn’t touch the wet polish.

  The door jingles and Randi stomps in. Snow falls from her boots and coat. She pulls off her face mask and gives it a shake.

  “Leave any outside? ” Kelli asks, walking past Randi to get behind the counter.

  “Not much, ” Randi says, dropping her backpack. She pulls my backpack off the stool and sits down, digging snow out of her collar. “What a wiener, ” she says, flicking snow onto the floor.

  “Who’s a wiener? ” I ask. “Me? ”

  “Not you, ” Randi says. “Rusty. ” She reaches over and breaks off a chunk of my cookie. “Mind? ” she asks, popping the chunk into her mouth.

  I scoot the plate toward her. “Why? What did Rusty do? ”

  “You know that big tree in front of Mrs. Eddy’s house? ” she asks.

  I nod.

  “He was hiding behind it. When I walked by he ran out, tackled me, and stuffed a snowball down my neck. ”

  “He must have figured out you put one in his backpack, huh? ” I say.

  “Huh, ” Randi replies.

  “Can I get you anything?” Kelli asks Randi. “Hot chocolate? Cookie? Towel? ”

  “No thanks, I’m good,” Randi says, breaking off another chunk of my cookie. But I don’t mind. I’m just happy she’s still talking to me.

  The door jingles again and a bunch of boys pile in, talking loud and laughing. Joey, the Dylans, and Rusty.

  Randi shoots a look at Rusty. “You are dead meat, ” she says.

  Rusty’s eyes and mouth go wide. “What’d I do? ” he asks, all innocent.

  “Yeah, what’d he do? ” Joey chimes in.

  The Dylans snort back laughs. They scoot down the counter, order four sodas from Kelli, and gallop to a back booth.

  Randi’s eyes stay on Rusty. She’s frowning, but I can see a grin around the edges.

  I break the rest of my cookie down the middle and hold half of it out to her. “Thanks,” she says, taking it. “I’m starved. Remind me to bring a cold lunch to school on tuna noodle casserole day. ”

  “Me too, ” I reply.

  Randi munches the cookie. “Not like mouseroni and cheese, huh? Gotta love that. ” She loosens up a grin.

  “I could live without it, ” I mumble. “In fact, I would eat tuna noodle casserole every day until middle school if it meant everyone would stop being mad at me. ”

  Randi chews for a minute. “Well, there’s only one way to fix it, ” she says. “You gotta do a triple-dog dare. ”

  “I know, ” I mumble. “Stacey told me. But if I do one, will everything be the same again? ”

  Randi bobs her head. “Same same. ”

  I think about how much I don’t want to be the odd girl out. And how doing one more dare will get me back in.

  “Okay, ” I say. “Do it. Triple-dog dare me. ”

  “Can’t,” Randi says, brushing crumbs from her coat. She scoots off her stool. “You told on the whole group, so the whole group has to decide on the dare. ”

  “Oh, ” I say, slouching.

  Randi gives my back a friendly pat. “Don’t worry,” she says. “We’ll figure it out tomorrow. When we’re finished with you, no one will be mad anymore. ”

  “Um . . . thanks, ” I say.

  Randi gives me another pat. Then she tromps to the back of the café, where the boys are dumping sugar packets into their sodas. She gives Rusty’s shoulder a fake punch and he does a fake yelp. Then she squishes in next to him.

  Jade and Meghan scoot off their stools and walk past me to the coat tree by the door. Meghan grabs her stuff and says good-bye.

  Jade takes a minute to button up her brown wool coat. She winds a bright red scarf around her neck and steps toward me. “What was that all about? ” she asks.

  I give her a shrug.

  “Hello? ” she says. “Mouseroni and cheese? Triple-dog dare? Everybody mad at you? ”

  “Oh, that,” I say. “It’s nothing. Just sort of . . . a game. ”

  “A game, huh?” Jade says. She takes a hat out of her coat pocket and pulls it on. “Sounds more like a mess to me. ”

  Dear Stella,

  I got voted out of the group today. I can’t get back in unless I do a triple-dog dare.

  Stacey said she would still be my friend even if I’m not in the group. But that would mean I only get half a best friend because part of her would always be with them.

  So I told Randi I would do a triple-dog dare.

  Ms. Stevens said we can’t do dares at school anymore, so it will have to be something they can make me do after school or on the weekend.

  I can think of a million dares that could happen after school or on a weekend. Drink a bottle of hot sauce. Hold a sign that says “I Like Quinn.” Go sledding with underwear on my head.

  I set my journal down on my bed and rub my eyes because it feels like a tiny hammer is pounding behind them.

  It taps out a few tears.

  I reach for a tissue and blow my nose.

  George tips sideways off my pillow and nudges against my arm.

  “Thanks,” I say to him. “I know you want to help,
but I have to do this by myself. ”

  I pick up George and rest my chin on his head. He still smells like the perfume I sprayed on him when I was in kindergarten. Back when my biggest worry was getting stuck next to Zane for rest time because of his drool. And my hardest problem was tying my shoes.

  I pick up my journal again.

  Mr. Crow gave us homework for next week. We all have to bring shape snacks to school. Some kids got easy ones Like circles and squares. But I got a hard one. Hexagons. What can you eat that has six equal sides? Snowflakes maybe, but it would take a Lot of them to make a snack.

  I’m getting to be an expert at hard stuff.

  Chapter 13

  The next morning I take extra long getting dressed and eating my breakfast and brushing my teeth so I will accidentally miss the bus. I wait on my porch until I see it go by. Then I wait a few more minutes before I ask my mom if she can drive me.

  We get to school just as the bell rings, which is what I was hoping for, since I’m not in the mood for being left out before I even get inside our classroom.

  All the girls get together in the snow fort during recess to plan my triple-dog dare. I know because I’m watching them from the top of the monkey bars.

  “Won’t they let you play with them today?” someone asks.

  Tom Sanders climbs up next to me.

  I glance away from the snow fort. “No, it’s not that. Our fort is just a little small, so I volunteered to play by myself. ”

  “Uh-huh, ” Tom says.

  “What about you?” I ask. “It looks like the other boys are playing king of the mountain. ”

  Tom shrugs and bumps his boot against the metal bar we’re standing on. “Not really my game, ” he says.

  Snow chunks fall from Tom’s boot and land on two kids below us. They look up and frown.

  “Oops, ” Toms says. “Sorry! ”

  The kids move away. Tom glances at me. “Do you think they’re mad? ”

  “Probably not, ” I say. “A few snow chunks on your head is no big deal. ”