by Jessica Wood
“Good morning, class.”
“Good morning, Ms. Peters¸” the class greeted back in unison.
“Before we get started, I want everyone to say hello to Chloe Sinclair.”
“Hello, Chloe Sinclair,” the class repeated.
“Hi,” I replied in a hesitant voice as I waved to everyone.
Ms. Peters smiled down at me. “Chloe just moved into the area and will be joining our first-grade class this year. Because she’s new here, she is still figuring her way around the school. So if you see her around, please make sure she feels welcomed and answer any questions she may have, okay?”
“Yes, Ms. Peters,” the class responded.
“Chloe, we’re all really excited to get to know you. There’s an empty desk in the third row. Why don’t you take that one?”
“Okay. Thanks, Ms. Peters.” I flashed her a smile before walking to the seat she pointed out.
As I walked up the row to my seat, a girl with pretty blond hair smiled at me. I smiled back and was about to say hi to her, but as I got closer to her, I noticed that her smile was more of a smirk.
“There are black holes on your overalls.”
Feeling embarrassed, I looked down to inspect my red overalls and Strawberry Shortcake top. I noticed the small black burn marks the girl was talking about. They were from my mom’s cigarettes. She would sometimes get clumsy when doing the laundry after she had some alcohol.
I didn’t know what to say to the pretty girl, so I just walked past her and sat down at my seat.
“Okay, let’s start out the day with some vocabulary,” Ms. Peters called out from the front of the room and instructed us to take out our notebooks.
As I pulled the new notebook Aunt Betty had gotten me the other day from my backpack, I thought I heard someone whisper, “Pst! Hey.”
I looked to my left and then my right and didn’t see anyone looking at me.
But then the low whisper came again. “Pst! Pippi Longstocking.”
My body froze when I heard those words. It can’t be him. Can it? I finally looked around again, and there he was, in the next row, a desk back from mine. It was the boy I had seen in the treehouse a week ago, the mean boy who I wasn’t going to be friends with.
“It’s me,” he whispered with his boyish grin.
“Duh,” I shot back. I then stuck my tongue out at him and turned back around. I wasn’t going to talk to him.
And I didn’t. For that entire morning, he had tried to get my attention three more times, but I pretended that I couldn’t hear him and looked straight ahead to the front of the class.
***
When lunchtime came, I started to feel nervous. In my old school, I used to sit at a small table with another girl who didn’t seem to have any friends either. She was very shy and didn’t talk much. But that was okay. I liked sitting next to her because she wasn’t mean and didn’t bother me.
I took my new Barbie lunchbox out of my backpack and looked for a place to sit and eat. The cafeteria was noisy, and smelled like tuna fish and French fries. As I walked around the large, crowded cafeteria, I couldn’t see an empty table anywhere.
I was about to give up and go find an empty bench in the hallway, when to my delight, I heard someone say, “Hi, Chloe.”
I quickly turned toward the voice and smiled. It was the pretty blond girl from my class.
“Hi … I don’t know your name,” I admitted sheepishly.
“It’s Amber.”
“Hi, Amber.” I smiled and waved at her and the three other girls at the table. They giggled and said hi back.
“Where are you going to eat your lunch?” Amber asked.
“I don’t know,” I replied. I looked down at my feet and wished I was like her and had friends to sit with.
“Well, we have an extra seat here that you can sit in,” she began and she pointed to the empty seat next to her.
My eyes lit up and I looked up at her as I felt the relief wash over me. “Really?” I asked hopefully and took a step toward her table.
“But,” she continued and the same smirk from that morning spread across her face, “I don’t think you want to sit with us.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You’re dirty and you love to sit on the ground so your clothes can get more dirt and black holes on them.” She started to laugh and her friends joined in.
When I heard her words, I felt my face grow hot with embarrassment as tears welled up in my eyes. Aunt Betty had bought me some new clothes last week, but I wanted to wear my Strawberry Shortcake top and cherry-red overalls. They reminded me of my mom because it was her favorite. My mom had bought the top and overalls at a yard sale a year ago for only $0.50. I still remember how happy she was that it had fit me perfectly. She’d said it was her favorite because I’d looked as sweet as strawberries in the outfit.
“I’m not dirty,” I finally said. I wanted to sound louder, but my words came out as a whisper. But I didn’t wait to see if she had heard me. I turned around and began to run to the nearest exit to get away from their giggles.
But I only got past one table before I tripped over someone’s extended foot. I watched in horror as my Barbie lunchbox flew out of my hand as I fell forward and landed across my chest.
“Oh my God, she totally ate it,” Amber cried out as she called attention to my fall.
An explosion of laughter echoed in the cafeteria as my chest started to hurt from the impact. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me as I remained face down on the green-and-white checkered vinyl floor. I didn’t want to get up. Not because my body hurt, but because I didn’t want everyone to see me cry.
Then I heard someone walk up to me. I held my breath and prepared myself for more embarrassment.
“Amber’s breath smells like stinky farts,” cried out a boy’s voice. “Don’t let her breathe on you!” Another uproar of laughter exploded around me, but to my relief, it didn’t seem to be directed at me.
I turned my head slightly and tried to see who was making fun of Amber. But before I could see who it was, Amber screamed in a piercing voice, “It does not! You take that back, Jackson!”
Jackson just laughed. “But it’s the truth,” he continued with mirth in his voice. “That’s why you chew gum all the time when we’re not allowed to.”
“That’s not true at all!” Amber screamed. I couldn’t see her but it sounded like she was about to cry. Just as I picked my head up to look in her direction, I saw Amber storm past me and in the direction of the cafeteria door. “I hate you, Jackson Pierce! I’m going to tell your mom.”
“That’s because you’re a tattletale! Tattletale Amber.” The boy named Jackson laughed, and to my surprise, several kids started laughing and chanting, “Tattletale Amber. Tattletale Amber.”
A part of me felt bad that everyone was laughing at Amber for having stinky breath and being a tattletale, but I was more relieved that no one seemed to be looking at me anymore.
“Hey, take my hand,” came Jackson’s voice from behind me.
I smiled and wanted to hug this boy who had helped me. But when I turned around and rolled to my back to face him, I gasped.
The boy named Jackson—the boy who had just saved me from evil Tattletale Amber—was the same boy in the treehouse who lived next door, the same boy who called me Pippi Longstocking the first time we met, the same boy whom I hated.
“It’s you,” I blurted out as I stared at him and his outstretched hand.
“Yes, last time I checked, I am me.” He smirked, probably proud of himself for being such a smart-ass. “Come on, take my hand.” He held out his hand to me and smiled down at me.
I didn’t want his help, not from a boy who had been mean to me. But then I remembered what he had just done for me. He had been mean to Amber so people would stop laughing at me. But can I trust him? I wondered, hesitant to let my guard down with this boy.
But when I met his gaze, I felt myself relax. There was a warmth in
his eyes that was echoed in his smile, and my hand reached up for his before I realized it. As his hand clasped firmly around mine, I felt safe and comforted.
“Thank you,” I said softly as he pulled me up from the ground. Then he handed me my lunchbox. “Oh.” I looked at it in surprise. “Thanks for picking that up too.”
“No problem.” He brushed off some dust from the front of my overalls. “Amber isn’t very nice. You should be careful with her.”
I nodded, realizing I learned it the hard way that Amber was not nice. “But why did you help me, then? You weren’t careful with her. What if she does something to you?” All of a sudden, I was worried for Jackson. Even though he hadn’t been nice to me before, I didn’t want Amber to be mean to him because he had helped me.
Jackson grinned, his green eyes sparkling in the light. “She won’t,” he said confidently.
“Why not?”
“Because she has a crush on me.” He shook his body like he was shuddering and scrunched his face to look disgusted.
“Really? She does?” I looked at Jackson and wondered if it was true. I could see how some girls might think he was cute, with his pretty, green eyes and tousled warm-chestnut hair. But I didn’t like boys. My mom always told me they will only make girls cry, and I didn’t like to cry.
“You can eat at my table, if you’d like.”
“I can?” I looked at him eagerly. “You don’t think I’m dirty?”
“Nah. Kids are supposed to be a little dirty. If you’re not dirty, you’re boring.”
I giggled and liked his reasoning. Maybe he’s not so mean after all, I thought.
When we got to his table, the two other boys said hi to me quickly before going back to their conversation about yesterday’s episode of Batman.
“Do you watch cartoons?” Jackson asked me.
“A little,” I said noncommittally.
“What superhero would you be if you could choose?”
I stared at him and giggled. Is this what boys talked about? “I don’t know. Who would you be?”
“I’d be Michelangelo!” He got up from his seat, clenched his fists and made a karate move in front of me. “He’s funny and loves pizza the most. I love pizza!”
“Okay.” I tried not to giggle at how excited he was.
“I know everything about the Ninja Turtles. It’s my favorite show.” He sat back down next to me. “Since you don’t know who you’d be, you can be April O’Neil.”
“Why?”
“Because the Ninja Turtles saved her life, like I saved you earlier.”
I rolled my eyes. “The Ninja Turtles are just large turtles who got lucky and had Master Splinter train them.”
His eyes lit up and he leaned toward me. “So you do watch the show.”
“I don’t,” I denied, even though secretly, it was one of my favorite shows.
“You wanna come over and play after school? We can watch it together?” He seemed to have ignored me completely.
I stared at him and tried to remind myself that he had made fun of me last week.
“Why would you want me to watch it with you?” I looked at him dubiously.
“Because we’re friends, silly.” He rolled his eyes. “Duh!”
“Friends?” I tilted my head and looked over at him, wondering if I heard him correctly.
“Yeah. Why?” He frowned. “You don’t wanna be my friend?”
I shrugged. “I’ve never had a friend before.”
“Never?” He looked at me in surprise.
I bowed my head and shook it slowly, feeling embarrassed about this. “There weren’t any kids where I lived.”
“Oh.” He paused. “Well, that means, I’ll be your first friend!”
I couldn’t help but smile at what he said.
“So, Ninja Turtles after school, then?”
I smiled, feeling happy that I’d met a new friend—my very first friend.
CHAPTER SEVEN
November 1994
Nine Years Old
“I seriously love your aunt.” Jackson licked his spoon, savoring the last traces of the chicken pot pie I’d brought over.
I shook my head in amazement, looking from Jackson’s empty plate to my barely-eaten pot pie. “You know, if I didn’t know you lived in a huge house like this, with a fridge stocked full of food, I’d think you hadn’t eaten a decent meal in weeks.”
He laughed. “Well, you’re just spoiled and don’t understand how delicious your aunt’s cooking is.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.” I only had to look around at Jackson’s house to know what he’d meant. While his house was almost twice the size of mine, it didn’t nearly feel as comfortable. Besides Jackson’s room, every other room of the house looked like they’d come straight out of some interior design magazine. Everything looked expensive and immaculate, but felt cold and not lived in.
“Coaster,” Jackson warned as he watched me almost place my glass of water on the bare maple dining table.
“Oh, oops.” I flashed him an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I always forget.”
Jackson relaxed a little. “It’s okay. My mom’s just a little picky about everything.”
“Yeah, I know.” I looked around. “Everything’s spotless.”
He shrugged. “Like it matters. It’s not like they’re home much to even enjoy it.”
I frowned and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Your parents work really hard to take care of you. I’m sure if they had a choice, they’d much rather be home than be stuck at work all the time.”
He sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. I just wish we had regular family dinners like you guys, and not once every week or so.”
“Aunt Betty and Uncle Tom are great,” I admitted, “but I would give almost anything to be able to have weekly dinners with my mom and dad,” I said wistfully.
“Crap. Sorry, Chloe. I shouldn’t be so insensitive sometimes when I complain about my parents.”
I flashed him a reassuring smile. “It’s okay. You’re not being insensitive. You shouldn’t feel bad for wishing your parents were more around for you.”
“Yeah, but I feel like such a jerk when I do. Your dad died before you were born and you don’t get to see your mom that often—”
“It’s okay,” I said, cutting him off. I didn’t really want to be reminded of what I didn’t have. “Let’s talk about something else.” I tried to sound cheerful as I forced a smile on my face.
Just then we heard the door to the garage open down the hall.
“Jackson? You home?” a voice called out.
“Hey, Dad. In the dining room,” Jackson called out.
“Well, look who’s here,” Mr. Pierce said with a smile as he walked through the entrance the kitchen.
“Hi, Mr. Pierce.” I returned his smile.
“Now, now. Call me John, Chloe. ‘Mr. Pierce’ makes me sound old.” He chuckled.
But you are old, I thought to myself, but would never dare to say out loud. I forced a small laugh. “Ok…John.”
“Much better.” He then turned to Jackson. “Sorry, my office hours ran a bit late this afternoon. Finals are coming up, so I’ve been getting a line of students with last minute questions. Did Maria leave already?”
“Yeah, she left about an hour ago. She said your dry cleaning is in your closet.”
“Okay, great.” He looked at his watch. “Did she order you dinner?”
“No, Chloe’s aunt sent over some chicken pot pie, so I told Maria not to order me anything for dinner.” Maria was the person Jackson’s parents had hired to look after him when they weren’t home.
“That’s so nice of her.” He then turned to look at me and smiled. “Please tell your aunt ‘thank you’ for me, Chloe.”
“Sure thing.”
As Mr. Pierce walked past us, he put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed it. “Thanks for taking care of my son. I don’t know what he’d do without you.”
I blushed.
�
��Dad, stop it. You’re embarrassing me,” Jackson complained as he got up from his chair. “We got to get going. We’re going over to hang out at the park for a bit.”
Mr. Pierced laughed as he walked over to the fridge and took out a bottle of water. “You know, Chloe,” he began, looking backed at me, “it takes a special girl like you to make Jackson embarrassed and flustered. Don’t break his heart.” He then winked at me before taking a swig from his water bottle.
Feeling a bit uncomfortable with his comment, I quickly explained, “We’re just friends, Mr. Pierce.”
“John,” he corrected.
“Right. Sorry. John. We’re just good friends.”
“Good to know.” He looked between us. “Well, I’m heading up to my office. I still have some papers to grade.”
“Good night, Mr.—I mean, John.”
“Have a nice night, guys. Don’t stay out too late.”
“We won’t, Dad. See yah.”
It took me and Jackson fifteen minutes to walk to the park from the house. Besides Jackson’s treehouse, the small lake at the center of the park was one of our favorite places to hang out. It was a cold night and the park was showing its beginning signs of winter. But after our walk, the cold air felt nice against my face. The sun had just disappeared beyond the horizon and we were lying on the grass next to the lake, staring up at the sky and watching the stars begin to appear.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” I let out a deep sigh as my eyes took in the wide expanse of the twilight-colored sky, marveling at how beautiful something so simple could be.
“Yeah, it’s pretty cool.” I could tell from his tone that he was unimpressed and was only here because I had wanted to come.
“Jax?” I turned to face Jackson, calling him by my nickname for him. He turned his head to face me. “Yeah, Clo?” he replied with his nickname for me. I heard him picking at the grass underneath his hands.
“What do you want to be when you grow up?”
“Hmm. I don’t know. I’m only ten.”
“Come on,” I insisted. “If you could be anything you wanted, what would it be?”
He stared at the sky in silence for a few seconds. Then from the corner of my eye, I saw a smirk appear on his face.
