Sleeping Over

by P J Denton

  “What?” Kara exclaimed. “You have to go! It’ll be no fun without all of us there.”

  Jo was frowning. “Wait, I think I see the problem,” she said to Emily. “It’s your parents, right? You think they might not let you go?”

  Emily nodded. She was afraid if she said anything, she might start crying again.

  “Come on, that’s silly, Emmers,” Taylor declared. “They’ve let you come to lots of parties at my house before.”

  “But not slumber parties,” Jo told her.

  Kara bit her lip, looking worried. “I get it,” she said. “Em’s parents are awesome and nice and everything. But they can be a little, um . ” She paused, glancing over at Jo.

  “Old-fashioned,” Jo finished for her. “At least about some things.”

  Emily nodded. “I’m afraid this might be one of those things,” she said. “What if they say no?”

  “What if they say yes?” Taylor said quickly. “You won’t know until you ask them, right?”

  “Taylor’s right,” Jo agreed. “We don’t even know if this is going to be a problem yet. You can go home and ask them today, and then we’ll know—one way or the other.”

  Kara clasped her hands together, almost knocking over her juice box. “I hope they say yes!” she exclaimed. “The Sleepover Squad wouldn’t be the same without you, Em!”

  “Don’t think that way,” Taylor told Kara. “Like Jo said, they haven’t said no yet. So maybe they’ll say yes, and everything will be fine.”

  “I hope so,” Emily said. But inside, she wasn’t so sure. “I guess all I can do is ask, right?”

  “Hi, Emily-Memily,” Mr. McDougal said with a smile as Emily climbed into the car. “How was school today?”

  “Fine.” Emily smiled back, then quickly turned around to pull out her seat belt. She was afraid if she said anything else to her father, she would spill out her news about the sleepover. She didn’t want to do that—not yet. It would be better to wait until she could talk to both of her parents together.

  She had to bite her lip all the way home to keep from telling. It took only about fifteen minutes to drive from Oak Tree Elementary to the McDougals’ green-shuttered old farmhouse on a quiet country lane outside of town. But that day it seemed to take forever. Luckily, Emily’s father was in a silly mood. He told jokes and sang along with the radio as he drove. That kept him busy enough not to notice that Emily was being extra quiet.

  Finally, they turned in past the McDougal Organic Nursery sign by the mailbox. The car bounced down the long gravel driveway between two rows of tall maple trees. “Last stop! All ashore that’s going ashore!” Mr. McDougal sang out.

  Emily got out of the car. It was a warm, sunny day, and she could see her mother out in the large vegetable garden at the side of the house. “Let’s go talk to Mom for a second,” she told her father.

  “Are you sure?” Mr. McDougal patted his stomach. “I could use a snack. How about if I make us some cinnamon toast?”

  “Um, maybe in a few minutes,” Emily said. She was so nervous by now that she knew she couldn’t possibly eat anything—not even her father’s cinnamon toast. “I really want to talk to you and Mom about something.”

  “Oh!” Her father looked surprised, but he nodded. “Okay, then. Let’s go.”

  They walked over to where Mrs. McDougal was hard at work weeding a lettuce bed. She looked up at them, squinting even under her wide-brimmed straw hat. Then she brushed the dirt off her knees and stood up.

  “Hello, you two,” she said. “How was school?”

  “Miraculous,” Mr. McDougal said. “All my tenth graders passed their pop quiz! But never mind that—it seems Emily has something she wants to say to us.”

  “Oh?” Mrs. McDougal squinted at Emily. “What is it, sweetheart?”

  Emily’s mouth felt dry. This was it: She was about to find out whether her last day of school—and maybe the rest of the summer, if not her whole life—would be great or terrible.

  “Um, okay,” she said, shuffling her feet in the dirt. “See, Taylor had a great idea. You know how she’s always having parties, right? And they’re always lots of fun, and you always let me go? Well, anyway, she had a new idea for a party. It’s to celebrate the last day of school. And her parents said it was okay for her to have a sleepover instead of a regular party this time. It would be just the four of us—me, Taylor, Jo, and Kara. We would stay at Taylor’s and play games and stuff just like a regular party, only this time we would bring our sleeping bags and stay over. ”

  She was talking as fast as she could. She didn’t want to give her parents a chance to say no before they heard her out. But finally, she ran out of breath and had to stop.

  “So that’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” she finished. “Can I go? Please?”

  Her parents glanced at each other. Emily’s heart sank as she saw her mother frown slightly and shake her head. Her father was pursing his lips the way he always did when he was worried about something.

  “I’m sorry, Emily,” Mrs. McDougal said after a moment of silence. “I don’t think so. Not until you’re a little older.”

  Emily could hardly believe her ears. “Why not?” she cried.

  Her father sighed. “As your mother said, it’s just too soon, Emily,” he said. “Maybe in a year or so we can discuss it again.”

  “But Taylor’s party isn’t in a year or so,” Emily said. “It’s this Friday! Don’t you realize how important this is? If I don’t get to go—”

  She couldn’t go on. From the way her parents were staring at her, she knew her arguments wouldn’t change their minds. It was just too unfair. She burst into tears and took off toward the house.

  Flinging open the mudroom door, she raced inside and almost tripped over her cat, Mi-Mo, who was sleeping on the rag rug just inside. Mumbling an apology to the startled cat, she continued through the room, up the creaky wooden back staircase, and down the hall to her room. Slamming the door behind her, she flung herself onto the handmade quilt covering her bed.

  She grabbed her favorite doll, Annabelle. “It’s not fair,” she mumbled into Annabelle’s yarn hair. “It’s just not fair!”

  She had been worried all day that her parents might say no. But she still could hardly believe that they’d really done it. None of her friends’ parents treated them like that, acting as if they weren’t old enough to do anything. Emily figured she might as well plug her night-light back in and stay a baby forever. After all, that was how her parents would always see her.

  She sobbed into Annabelle’s hair for a while longer. Then, all cried out, she sat up and looked around. The afternoon sunlight was pouring in through her windows, making splashes of brightness on the colorful hooked rug on her floor. Standing up, she walked over to the window and looked out. She had a good view of the vegetable garden from there. Mrs. McDougal was still out there weeding, while Emily’s father pushed a wheelbarrow toward the compost bins at the edge of the woods.

  Emily hurried to her bedroom door and opened it a crack. Mi-Mo was standing outside, swishing his tail. When he saw her, he let out an annoyed meow.

  “Sorry, Mi-Mo,” she whispered. “Come on in.”

  She let the cat into her room and then tiptoed out into the hallway, making a beeline for the cordless phone on the little table near the top of the front staircase. Grabbing the handset, she scooted back to her room and closed the door again. Normally, she wasn’t supposed to use the phone without asking first. But that day she didn’t feel like following her parents’ rules.

  She sat down next to Mi-Mo, who had just jumped up onto her bed. Then she dialed Kara’s number. After two rings someone on the other end picked up.

  “Who is it?” a loud male voice barked, making Emily jump.

  “Um, hello?” she said. “This is Emily. Is Kara home?”

  “Kara who?” the voice demanded gruffly. For a second Emily was afraid she’d dialed the wrong number. Then she heard giggles and snorting in the b
ackground.

  “Eddie? Chip?” she guessed uncertainly. Kara’s two older brothers sounded almost alike on the phone.

  There was a sudden burst of muffled yelling in the background. For a second there was no other sound. Then Kara’s familiar voice came on the line, sounding a little breathless.

  “Sorry about that, Em,” she said. “My brothers are idiots. But never mind that—what’s up? Did you ask them?”

  Emily sighed. “I asked them,” she said glumly. “They said no. Just like I was afraid of.”

  “What?” Kara shrieked so loudly that Emily had to move the phone away from her ear. “You’re kidding! I can’t believe they said no. Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure. They think I’m too young for a sleepover.”

  “How can they say that?” Kara sounded outraged. “You’re practically the most mature and responsible person in the whole second grade. Are they crazy?”

  Emily sighed again. She could tell that Kara was trying to make her feel better. But instead, she was feeling worse.

  “I’d better get off the phone before my parents come inside,” Emily said. “Can you call the others and tell them?”

  “Sure. And don’t worry, Em—we’ll figure out something to do about this!”

  “Okay.” Emily didn’t think there was anything her friends could do that would help. But she didn’t tell Kara that. “See you in school tomorrow.”

  She and Kara said good-bye and hung up. Emily returned the phone to its spot in the hall, then closed herself in her room again. She usually loved hanging out in her room. She had picked out the colors herself—pink and yellow—and helped her mother paint the walls. She had her dolls, two shelves full of toy horses, and dozens and dozens of books crammed into the bookcase her father had made out in his workshop. But that day none of it seemed very interesting.

  Mi-Mo was sitting with his front legs tucked under his chest, purring loudly. Emily sat down beside him and stroked his glossy fur. Even that didn’t make her feel much better.

  Half an hour later she heard her mother calling her downstairs to dinner. Emily groaned and pushed herself off the bed.

  “Guess I’d better go down, Mi-Mo,” she told her cat, feeling grumpy at the thought of facing her parents again. “I wish I didn’t have to, though.”

  She stomped down the steps and into the kitchen. Her father was standing at the stove stirring something, while her mother set the table with the family’s cheerful blue and white plates.

  “Can you grab the silverware, Em?” Mrs. McDougal said.

  Emily frowned. “Do I have a choice?” she muttered under her breath.

  Her mother glanced over at her. “What was that, Emily?”

  “Never mind.” Emily trudged over to the cabinet and grabbed a handful of forks and spoons, letting them clank together as loudly as possible. She tossed a fork and spoon beside each of the three plates on the table, not bothering to straighten them.

  She expected her parents to scold her about that. Instead, she saw them exchange a long, serious look.

  “All right, people,” her father said a moment later. “I think the vegetables are ready. Let’s eat!”

  Emily ate as quickly as she could. Her stomach felt kind of funny, and she didn’t have much of an appetite. But she knew her parents wouldn’t let her be excused until she’d eaten something. So she forced down several spoonfuls of peas and carrots and a whole piece of chicken.

  “May I be excused?” she asked as soon as she had gulped down the last of her glass of milk. “Please.”

  Her parents exchanged another glance. Mrs. McDougal’s face wore a slight frown, and Mr. McDougal looked somber. But once again, neither of them said anything about Emily’s unusual behavior.

  “Yes, you’re excused,” Mrs. McDougal said.

  “Thanks,” Emily muttered sullenly. Pushing back her chair, she ran back upstairs.

  “O kay,” Taylor said. “We need a plan.”

  The four friends were huddled around Emily’s desk in Ms. Byrd’s homeroom. As promised, Kara had called the others the previous afternoon to tell them what Emily’s parents had said. Emily had filled them all in on the rest of the details when she’d first arrived at school that morning. Now they were all trying to figure out what to do about it.

  “What kind of plan?” Emily asked hopelessly. “You guys know my parents. They hardly ever change their minds about stuff.”

  “Hey, they just agreed to let you turn off your night-light, right?” Kara pointed out. “Maybe they’ll see the light about this, too.” She grinned. “Get it? See the light? Like night- light?”

  Jo rolled her eyes. “Hardy har har,” she said. “Maybe you should do your stand-up comedy routine at the sleepover, Kara.”

  Emily bit her lip and glanced around the room, which was filling up with her classmates. She was afraid she was about to embarrass herself by starting to cry again.

  “Yeah,” she said. “And you guys can tell me all about it the next day, since I’ll have to miss it.”

  “Don’t worry, Emmers,” Taylor said, reaching over to give Emily a hug. “That’s definitely not going to happen. If you can’t come, the sleepover is off. We’ll do a picnic or something instead. But I’m not ready to give up yet!”

  “Taylor’s right,” Kara said as Jo nodded. “It wouldn’t be any fun without you.”

  Emily was glad the others didn’t want to have the slumber party without her. But that made her feel even worse about the whole situation. Her parents weren’t just ruining things for her—they were ruining them for her best friends, too!

  “Okay, so all we need is a good plan, right?” Kara said, tipping her chair back against the desk behind her. “So who has a good idea?”

  “Maybe we should all go over and talk to Em’s parents,” Taylor suggested, rubbing her hands together. “We can just keep telling them all the reasons we need Emmers there until they have no choice but to give in.”

  “I have a better idea,” Kara said. “Emily could go on a hunger strike! You’re so skinny already, Em—if you swore you wouldn’t eat again until your parents changed their minds, they’d have to give in. Oh! Or how about this—the silent treatment. Don’t talk to them until they say you can come to the party.”

  Emily was pretty sure neither of those things was likely to work. “Maybe I’d be better off running away from home and coming to live with you,” she told Kara, only half joking. “Your parents would never notice another kid around the place.”

  Taylor laughed. “Now you’re thinking!”

  “I have an idea.”

  Jo’s voice was quiet. But all three of the others stopped talking and turned to listen. Emily realized that Jo hadn’t said anything for a few minutes and guessed that she’d been busy thinking. That made her heart jump with a tiny spark of hope. Jo always came up with the best plans.

  “What is it, J?” Taylor asked eagerly. “What’s your idea?”

  Before Jo could answer, Randy Blevins came racing into the room. He was yelling, as usual. His friend Max Wolfe was yelling too. They skidded across the floor, their sneakers squeaking. Both of them crashed into Marie Torelli’s desk, making her scream. Her backpack fell off the desk, and her papers scattered everywhere.

  “Uh-oh!” Max yelled.

  Randy hooted with laughter. “Marie made a mess!” he shouted gleefully. “Messy Marie!”

  Max and two or three of the other boys in the room started chanting “Messy Marie! Messy Marie!” over and over again. Marie and her best friend, Tammy Tandrich, scowled at the boys and started picking up the papers.

  Kara wrinkled her nose as she watched. “Boys,” she declared with distaste. “Why do they always have to act so immature?”

  “Never mind them.” Taylor turned back to stare at Jo. “We have more important things to worry about than stupid boys. Now come on, Jojo—tell us your plan!”

  Jo shrugged. “Okay, but it’s not really the kind of plan you guys were talking about,”
she said. “I was just thinking about how Emily told us she was in a bad mood after her parents said no, stomping around and everything.”

  “I still can hardly believe that part,” Kara broke in with a giggle. “Em’s never in a bad mood!”

  “I guess I was last night,” Emily admitted, feeling a little bit guilty about the way she’d acted. “I was just so mad about being treated like a baby—I couldn’t help it.”

  “But see, that’s what I’m trying to say.” Jo turned to gaze at Emily. “I think the best way to change your parents’ minds is to apologize for acting that way.”

  “What?” Taylor exclaimed. “Why should she apologize? They’re the ones treating her like a kindergartner!”

  “No kidding!” Kara agreed quickly. “They should apologize to her!”

  “I know, I know.” Jo still sounded calm, even though Taylor and Kara were both scowling at her. “But think about it, you guys. After she apologizes, they’ll definitely listen if she explains about the slumber party in a more grown-up way.”

  Emily shook her head, not really sure what Jo meant. “But why?” she said. “They already said no when I tried that before. That’s why I was mad in the first place, remember?”

  “Okay, but didn’t you say you barely had a chance to discuss it before you started crying?” Jo said.

  Emily glanced around, hoping nobody else had heard what Jo had said. Luckily, Randy and Max were roughhousing in the back of the room, and most of the kids in the class were back there watching them.

  “You don’t have to tell the whole world what a crybaby I am,” Emily told Jo with a slight frown. “Anyway, this is probably a waste of time. My parents think I’m still a baby, and nothing will change their minds.”

  Jo shrugged. “But see, that’s just the problem. If you act like a baby, they’ll keep treating you like one. But if you act more like a grown-up, maybe they’ll notice that you are growing up.”