So Jelly!

by Coco Simon

  “Do you ever wonder what it will be like when Jenna moves out?” I asked Molly, who was sitting right next to me at the counter.

  “What?” she asked, looking up from her phone.

  “When Jenna goes to college,” I said, a little annoyed that she wasn’t listening. “When it’s just the four of us instead of five, do you worry that it will be weird?”

  Molly wrinkled her forehead. “I dunno,” she said. “Like will we miss her?”

  “Well, we’ll miss her, sure,” I said. “But I mean, what will dinner be like without her? What will the weekends be like?”

  “Well, the weekends will be easier, because we don’t have to worry about making noise and waking her up,” said Molly, in her very matter-of-fact Molly way.

  This was true. Jenna liked to sleep in on the weekends, and she was always barking at us to keep it down. Molly and I are early risers.

  “But won’t it be like one person is just missing?” I asked.

  I knew Molly wasn’t always into these kinds of conversations, so I was pushing it.

  “Things change, Kelsey,” Molly said in a tone that sounded like she was explaining it to a two-year-old.

  “Oh, never mind,” I said, and pushed away my chair. Molly was making me feel worse instead of better.

  Sometimes getting people to talk in our family was impossible. My cousin Lindsay was the one I used to talk to about everything. We’re just about the same age and grew up together, so in a lot of ways we are more like sisters than cousins.

  But Lindsay’s mom, my aunt Amy, died a couple years ago after being sick for a long time. If you talk to Lindsay, she doesn’t burst into tears or anything, or at least not usually, but I’m always really careful when I talk to her now, especially if I’m talking about my family.

  If, say, I complain about Mom, I’m worried that Lindsay is really thinking, Oh, well, at least you still have your mom. If I tried to talk to her about how weird it would be with Jenna gone, I’m afraid she would think, Well, she’s just going to college. She’s coming back. But my mom isn’t.

  Lindsay is actually really sweet, so I don’t think she’d think those things on purpose, and she would never say them to me out loud, but there are things I just can’t talk to her about anymore.

  “You’d better get your homework started before Mom gets home,” said Molly.

  I looked over, annoyed, and I noticed that while I’d been sitting there thinking, she had already set up her laptop and was typing away.

  Molly is only eight months older than I am, but she acts like she is my much older sister. So between her and Jenna, I really feel ganged up on sometimes and like I am the baby of the family.

  Jenna and Molly are a lot alike. They are both super organized and they belong to a million different clubs and are always thinking about their next project or what they’ll be doing in ten years.

  Dad calls me Kelsey Dreamer because I guess I daydream a lot, and I like to take my time doing things. I just don’t feel that crazy rushing sense or the competitiveness that Jenna and Molly seem to have been born with.

  I opened my laptop, logged in, and clicked over to the homework page and sighed. Ugh. There is so much homework in middle school. There was no way I’d finish before dinner, which I hated. I liked to be able to relax after dinner, and have what Dad calls downtime, when you kind of just do nothing.

  I peeked over at Molly. “Do we have to read this whole chapter for history?” I asked.

  “Yes,” said Molly, her hands flying over the keyboard.

  I opened the window and breathed in. “Ooh, someone is burning leaves,” I said. I love that smell.

  I positioned my chair so the breeze from outside tickled my face. It was a shame to spend such a beautiful afternoon inside doing homework.

  Then I looked over at Molly again. “Did you finish reading it already?” I asked.

  “Yeeesss,” said Molly with a hint of annoyance, not looking up from her laptop.

  “What is it about?” I asked.

  “KELSEY!” Molly screamed so loud I jumped. “You have to do your own homework! I’m not going to do it for you!”

  “I wasn’t asking you to do my homework,” I said crossly. “I was just curious.”

  “If you’re curious, then open the book,” said Molly, and she sounded exactly like Mom when she said it.

  I sat there for a few more minutes, listening to the leaves crinkle in the wind. Dad was going to make us help rake them up on the weekend.

  “Kelsey, I can help you if you get stuck, but you have to start and you have to try,” said Molly.

  “Okay,” I said, eating some more popcorn. “This tastes so much better when Dad makes it on the stove than in the microwave,” I said. “And it’s fluffier.”

  Molly looked at me sideways. “Thanks for the review, Princess Popcorn,” she said.

  I snickered.

  Molly looked over and giggled too. Then she grabbed a handful and chewed. “You’re right,” she said. “This does taste good.”

  She glanced over at me with a mischievous twinkle in her eye that I know well and said, “Sheep on a log! Well, what if those sheep flew?”

  Then she hurled a fistful of popcorn at me.

  “MOLLY!” I screamed, shaking popcorn from my hair but laughing.

  I tossed some down the back of her shirt.

  “Oh, it is on, Princess Popcorn!” she said, and showered me with half of what was in the bowl.

  We were both throwing the popcorn and cracking up when we heard my mom say, loudly, “Girls, what on earth is going on in here?”

  Jenna peered around her. “Are you maniacs having a popcorn fight?”

  We both said, “No!” while popcorn fell from our hair, and we tried not to giggle.

  Mom sighed and handed me the broom and Molly the dustpan. “I don’t even want to know. And I don’t want to see anything either… please clean up this mess.”

  I started sweeping and Molly scooped up the piles, but we couldn’t stop laughing.

  “Sheep on a log!” Molly whispered, trying to stifle her laughter.

  “What are sheep on a log?” asked Jenna.

  “What happens when you don’t have ants,” I said, and Molly started to laugh even harder.

  “What?” asked Jenna, but she started to laugh too.

  Sometimes that happens when we’re all together. We just start laughing and we can’t stop, sometimes over something silly and sometimes over nothing at all.

  Mom looked at the three of us cackling and threw up her hands. “I don’t get it,” she said. “But the sound of you three girls laughing is always the best.”

  Molly and I settled down and cleaned up and Jenna started to set the table. I felt another surge—this was so nice—the three of us together with our own secret kind of language.

  Why would you ever want to leave it? I just wished it could stay this way forever.

  Chapter Three Morning Meeting Surprise

  Every day at school we have the morning meeting in the cafeteria. All the classes gather there and we hang out until Principal Clarke stands up and reads any announcements or talks about upcoming events.

  I headed over to the corner table where I always sat with Sophia, Michelle, and Riley, and I was surprised to see Isabella sitting there already.

  “Good morning!” she said, smiling at me.

  I looked around, thinking it was odd that she wasn’t sitting with Olivia, whom she was normally always with.

  “Hi!” I said, and dropped my backpack on the table.

  Isabella was best friends with Olivia. They’d been inseparable all summer long and they’d join us at the lake, usually with Hannah and Elizabeth, too. I hadn’t really seen the two of them hanging out much since school started, though.…

  Casey and my cousin Lindsay sat across from us. Casey and Lindsay had been BFFs since they were babies. We’re all still friends with each other, but we all have certain friends we’re closer to than others. Or at
least we used to.

  “How was soccer?” I asked Isabella.

  “Oh, Riley didn’t tell you?” she said.

  Again, I got this short-tempered feeling. It wasn’t like she’d said anything bad or wrong, but it was just the fact that she said it that bothered me.

  “No, that’s why I’m asking you,” I said.

  “Oh,” said Isabella, either not noticing I was annoyed or ignoring me. “She did really great. She was on a scrimmage team with Molly.”

  I wondered why Molly hadn’t mentioned it.

  Riley bounded in, chomping on a bagel, with Sophia in tow. Riley was a total talk-fest, while Sophia and I were usually quieter until we got going. We’re both early risers but not naturally enthusiastic morning people.

  “Hey, Bella Bella!” Riley chimed.

  Sophia and I looked at each other, annoyed at her perkiness.

  A minute or two later Hannah sat down with us, and so did Elizabeth. We all paused for a moment while Elizabeth unpacked her food. Her mom made her the most awesome sandwiches and salads.

  Every time my grandfather would see Elizabeth at the restaurant, he would remind her to tell her mom there’s always a job open for her as a chef if she wants one.

  Elizabeth smiled at all of us as she took out her sandwich.

  “Nothing very exotic this morning,” she informed us. “Cream cheese on date nut bread.”

  “That’s exotic to me,” Michelle said. “I’ve never had cream cheese on anything but a bagel!”

  “The crunchy nuts are good with the cream cheese,” Elizabeth said.

  We all chatted about our food for a few minutes when suddenly Hannah cleared her throat dramatically so we all turned to look at her.

  “So, I’m running for student council,” she said, whipping her phone out. “And in order to run, I need twenty-five signatures to get on the ballot.”

  “I’ll sign,” said Sophia, and took Hannah’s phone. “Wait… you’re running with Olivia?”

  “Yeah!” said Hannah. “Olivia is my running mate. Our campaign slogan is ‘Two Girls Can Get It Done!’ ”

  “I didn’t know you guys were that friendly,” I said.

  “What do you mean?” said Hannah. She waved her hand around. “We’ve all known each other since kindergarten!”

  That was true. But when did Hannah even start talking to Olivia, let alone hanging out with her? We’d all hung out at the lake together this past summer, but I’d never noticed Hannah and Olivia being particularly buddy-buddy.

  “You need a campaign plan,” said Riley, signing after Sophia. “We should talk about it after school when we go for pizza.”

  “But Kelsey can’t come,” said Michelle. “She has to work.”

  They all looked at me.

  “Sorry,” I said, looking down at the phone and signing my name.

  Part of me wasn’t so mad that I had to work. I wasn’t sure about all this new student council stuff or hanging out with Olivia, Isabella, Hannah, and Elizabeth instead of just Sophia, Michelle, and Riley.

  “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen,” said Principal Clarke into the microphone.

  The room settled down.

  “Today we have to report that a lost gray sweatshirt was left in the STEAM lab. If it’s yours, please come to the office during lunch.”

  “Oh that’s mine!” yelled Jeff Simons, and everyone laughed.

  “Okay, Jeff. You can pick it up later,” said Principal Clarke. “Also, we have some exciting new programs this year. We’ve decided that we are going to elect class representatives for each grade, one student per grade.

  “And this position will be different from student council. Our representatives will actually be representing their classes with the teachers and working on how to improve your school day. So think of your rep as your human suggestion box.

  “The idea is that you can go to your rep with issues or concerns or questions, and your rep will bring them to a committee that some teachers and I will be on to make decisions about your concerns.

  “The rep should be someone who is a good listener, who can work with many groups of people, and who is enthusiastic about our time at Bellgrove Middle School. We have nominations that will go in the ballot box in the cafeteria.

  “If you know of someone you think can best represent your class, please write down their name and submit it to us. The results will be announced next Friday.”

  There was a lot of conversation and murmuring. Lindsay and Casey nodded at each other and then looked at me.

  “Our grade representative should be you, Kelsey,” Casey said.

  “ME?” I looked at them, stunned. “Why?”

  “Well,” said Lindsay, “you get along with everyone, and you’re a pretty good student.”

  She cleared her throat, because she knew I’d had a lot of trouble with social studies last year.

  “And you really do always know the right thing to say. Also, if it’s supposed to be someone who loves BMS, well, anytime anyone says something bad about Bellgrove, you always say how wonderful it is. You should be, like, the spokesperson for living here.”

  I knew that Lindsay, like Jenna, couldn’t wait to get out of Bellgrove, so I wasn’t quite sure if she was complimenting me or if she was shading me just a little bit.

  Sophia put her arm around me. “You are the best representative for everything, Kels,” she said.

  “Absolutely!” said Riley. “I vote for Kelsey!”

  I smiled.

  You can always rely on your BFFs. Even when they try out for the soccer team.

  Chapter Four A Bad Day At Work

  As far as jobs at the Park go, working at the Donut Dreams counter is one of the easiest, and I think that’s why they gave it to Lindsay, then just paired me with her. It’s not that everyone always just gives Lindsay a pass. I mean, she does have to work, but it’s like everyone in our family tries to make things a lot easier for her if they can.

  After Aunt Amy died, Mom sat us down and talked about how we’d need to be sensitive around Lindsay. And while I totally get that, I also wonder when we won’t have to tiptoe around her anymore, and when things can finally go back to normal.

  I was in a little bit of a sour mood when I arrived at the Park, because I knew Sophia and Riley and Michelle were out for pizza and I had to work.

  Michelle had texted me,

  Wish u were here!

  She had also sent a selfie of her taking a huge bite out of the most amazing slice of pepperoni pizza I had ever seen. My mouth had watered just looking at it.

  Guess I looked more grouchy than I thought, because when I walked in, tying my apron behind me, Grandpa boomed, “What’s wrong? Aren’t you glad to be at work today, my lovely Kelsey?”

  He was standing at the front podium of the restaurant. A podium is kind of funny, when you think about it, because we have one at school. It’s like a stand that they roll out when we have an assembly or a speaker, and the speaker stands behind it.

  We have one at the restaurant, because that’s where the host stands. The host greets everyone who comes in and asks how many people are in their party (which also makes me giggle, because how is going out for lunch a party?), and then shows them to their table.

  My cousin Lily is the host a lot because she’s really friendly and patient with people. She’s also not the best waitress because she’s a little clumsy, so they had to find another job for her.

  I sighed. “Well, I’m coming to work on a beautiful day, Grandpa,” I said.

  “And?” he bellowed.

  “And my friends all went out for pizza after school and I had to come to work,” I said, frowning. I knew I sounded a little bratty, but I couldn’t help it.

  “Some people would be very glad to have a job, Ms. Kelsey,” said Grandpa. “You are lucky to be able to start making money to save for college.”

  College. Again. Why was everyone so obsessed with college?

  “And,” he said, “that’s wh
y they call it work and not play. Just like homework. They don’t call it ‘homeplay,’ do they?”

  I shook my head.

  “Now, try not to look so grumpy,” said Grandpa. “Customers don’t like buying a sweet donut from a grumpy server!”

  I blew the bangs off my forehead. They were annoying me today too.

  I forced a smile at Grandpa and walked over to the Donut Dreams counter, where Lindsay was already wiping down the glass case.

  “Hi,” I said unenthusiastically.

  “Bad mood?” asked Lindsay.

  “Yeah,” I said, and then I regretted it.

  I mean, what did I really have to be in a bad mood about in front of Lindsay? I still had my mom and dad and everyone was healthy.

  I put my phone under the counter, as we had to do when we were working. Grandpa was a real stickler about that.

  “How busy are we?” I asked Lindsay, who was making sure all the trays were filled and neat.

  “Not too bad,” she said. “I got here a little early and there were some high school kids, but not a huge crowd.”

  I leaned on the counter, which was another Grandpa “no-no.” You were always supposed to look “alert and approachable,” according to the rules. Grandpa had a lot of rules at the restaurant.

  When you started working at the Park and at Donut Dreams, you got a little employee handbook with all the rules listed. Most of them were pretty obvious, like always wash your hands, which is reasonable if you are serving food (because eeeeuuw!), but some of them were a pain: no cell phones, no leaning, say hello to everyone you see, no eating in the dining area of the restaurant—only in the kitchen. Grandpa thought it looked sloppy to have the employees shoving food in their mouths or dropping crumbs all over the place.

  Sometimes Lindsay and I snuck a donut under the counter if we were really slow. It is hard to be around them all day without wanting just a little bite, but usually by the end of my shifts, I never want to see or smell a donut again.

  Mom came out of the back room, where her office was, and waved at me.

  “Ah, I wanted to make sure Jenna dropped you off,” she said.