The Retake

by Jen Calonita

Laura had upgraded friends. It was that simple.

  A big fat tear fell onto my phone, and then another. I quickly rubbed them away with my finger, wishing I could erase the last few months.

  “Zoe?”

  I looked up. Clare was standing in front of me.

  “Do you need a ride?” she asked. “I missed the bus too.”

  I wiped my eyes again. “Oh. I…I’m not sure my mom would want me on a motorcycle, but thanks.”

  Clare laughed. “We have a car too.” She pointed to the SUV at the curb. “I am never allowed on her bike either, other than the first day of school. It’s tradition.”

  “Oh!” What a fun tradition. “Sure. That would be great.”

  Clare nodded to the car. “Come on, then. Let’s get out of here already.”

  I followed Clare to the car. I couldn’t agree more.

  Clare’s mom tried to ask us about our first day, but neither of us was chatty. Clare seemed as fried as I did, which made me wonder what her day had been like. I didn’t press her in front of her mom. Instead I just enjoyed the air-conditioned silence. It was ninety degrees and our school’s air-conditioning was mediocre at best. By the time Clare’s mom dropped me off, I was parched. When I got home, I went straight past Taryn in the kitchen and grabbed a drink from the fridge. I immediately started to gag. The chocolate milk must have turned. I spit it out in the sink.

  “Ewwwwwwww! Zoeeeeeeeee! Gross! I’m FaceTiming!” Taryn complained as I continued to hack. “What’s wrong with you?” She and Avery, whose tiny face appeared in Taryn’s phone screen, waited for a response.

  Did Taryn actually want me to answer? Or did she just want me to disappear so she could get back to talking to Avery? I didn’t care if she wanted to talk or not. I needed to tell someone what had happened, and Laura wasn’t that person anymore. “I forgot my bus pass and my schedule, and when I went to look it up on my Insta, where I posted it, Principal Higgins saw me and took my phone away,” I blurted out. “But the main office couldn’t print my schedule either because its printer ran out of ink, so I had to rely on Clare, who got my schedule wrong, so I showed up in the wrong class, was late to others, and then dropped my tray in front of everyone and on top of everything I spent the whole day walking around with a stain on my white pants that looked like poop! That’s what’s wrong.”

  Taryn and Avery both looked at me and started laughing.

  “Zoe, you’re too funny,” Avery said. “No one’s first day is that awful!”

  “Yeah! You’re exaggerating!” Taryn said. “Aren’t you?” They both looked at me expectantly.

  I instantly regretted opening my mouth. “Yep. Like Mom would say, I was just being dramatic.”

  “I knew it.” Taryn rolled her eyes and turned back to Avery. “So what were you saying before Zoe came in and yakked?”

  “Oh! I said I am so glad we start volleyball tomorrow,” Avery said. “I’m so bored, aren’t you?”

  “Yes,” Taryn agreed, winding a lock of hair around her finger. “Who wants to sit home alone when you could be practicing with the team?”

  I hadn’t thought of that when I made the rash decision to skip tryouts. What would I do all afternoon if I had no sport and I couldn’t be in Future City because everyone thought it was nerdy? Lying on the couch was fun for a day or two. Not a whole year. Plus, there was the fact that Mom would kill me if I was home all the time.

  “Hellooooo, Zooooeeee!”

  Taryn was staring at me again. “Avery asked when your tryouts are.”

  I felt my stomach tighten. How could I skip the first day of tryouts? There was no way I’d make the team now. “They haven’t announced them yet,” I lied.

  Avery whistled. “Here we go….”

  “Avery?” Taryn said sweetly. “I’ll call you back.” Taryn hung up and pointed a purple-painted fingernail at me. “Liar! High school had their tryouts last week, but middle school always has them the first week of school. Meaning today. And you missed them! Coach Carr texted me!”

  My eyes nearly bulged out of my head. “Why’d you ask if you already knew?”

  “This is so like you! Why didn’t you go? You like volleyball. I put myself out there and told Coach Carr how good you are!”

  “You did?” I was surprised Taryn had gone to bat for me, but maybe she had an ulterior motive. “I mean, why are you butting in? Who texts with their middle school volleyball coach?”

  Taryn crossed her arms. “Why didn’t you go today? This better not be about Laura.”

  Was I supposed to tell Taryn the truth? That I couldn’t imagine surviving another two hours of school? That between Laura’s early-morning bagel run without me, not inviting me to sit with her at lunch, and picking another partner in technology class, I felt like I was dying inside even though I wasn’t supposed to let her get to me? Or would she just laugh at me again? Instead, I said nothing.

  Taryn stared me down. “I swear, if you ruin the Mitchell reputation, I will never forgive you.” She sighed and started texting. “I’m telling Coach Carr you got food poisoning and went home after school, but you’ll be at the second tryout tomorrow. I’m saying not to hold this against you because you will wow her with your skills. Get out your phone and put in a reminder.”

  I resisted the urge to bear-hug her (Taryn hasn’t hugged me in years). “Thank you, thank you, thank—”

  “Don’t thank me yet—you still have to make the team! I told her you’re not as good as I am, but she needs you.” Taryn poked me in the shoulder. “So don’t mess this up.” Her face softened. “Besides, the team will give you a chance to meet new people.” My phone pinged, and Taryn looked at it. “Is that Miss Hashtag Best First Day Ever?”

  “You mean Laura?” I asked.

  “Yes, Laura! That pool picture she posted was so staged—it wasn’t even taken today. They all had on the same bathing suits that they did yesterday!”

  “They did?” I hadn’t noticed that.

  “Yes. Girls like her take a slew of pictures so they have posts for days.” Taryn stared at my phone. “Seriously, unfollow her.”

  “You’re following her,” I pointed out.

  “Not anymore!” Taryn swiped to her Instagram right in front of me, went to Laura’s profile, and hit unfollow. My jaw fell. Laura checked her followers. She would notice Taryn was gone. “Now you do it!”

  But I couldn’t cut the cord. Laura was my best friend. Or had been. Even if she was ready to drop me from her life, I wasn’t ready to cut her out of mine. Following her Insta might be the only way I’d know what she was up to. I clutched my phone. “No.”

  Taryn tried to pry the phone from my hand. “Do it!”

  The two of us struggled for a moment before the phone slipped from my hands and went flying across the floor. I rushed over to grab it.

  “It’s not cracked, is it?” Even she looked concerned.

  Our parents were always threatening us about taking good care of our phones because they were a privilege, not a right, and all that stuff about responsibility. I’d only gotten a phone the spring of sixth grade, while Laura had gotten one from her dad at the end of fifth, when her parents got divorced. I was desperate not to break mine. Once, Taryn cracked her phone screen, and Dad made her save up enough babysitting money to fix it before she could take it to the store to be replaced.

  Sometimes I wondered if Mom held off getting me a phone even longer because Dianne complained Laura never put her phone down. She’s obsessed with it, Dianne would say, and then the two would compare apps that were appropriate for our age. Laura was always able to download all of them before I could. Thankfully, Mom let me have an Instagram account as long as I set it to private.

  Please don’t be broken. Please don’t be broken. I took a deep breath and picked up my phone. Not broken! Not even a crack on it. But what was this new
app open on the screen? “It’s fine,” I told my sister. “No thanks to you.”

  Taryn sighed. “Good. Now go away. Just be at tryouts tomorrow.” Taryn grabbed a bag of pretzels from behind me and FaceTimed Avery again.

  I stared at my phone. The app had no name, just a pink-and-gold icon. That was strange. I hadn’t downloaded this app. Was this definitely my phone? Maybe that crazy office employee gave me the wrong one. I looked from the glittered case to the home screen again. Yes, it’s your phone, silly. You’re on the screensaver!

  “Hi, girls!” Mom walked in the front door balancing a stack of books in her arms. I rushed over to help her. “Thanks, Zo-Zo. How was your first day of seventh grade? Who was in your classes? Did you meet anyone new? Do you like your teachers? How was Spanish class? How were volleyball tryouts? And the seventh-grade cafeteria?”

  Mom had a habit of rapid-firing questions. The good news was she only remembered about half of what she asked you. “I sat with Reagan and Jada on the bus,” I offered, skipping the volleyball discussion entirely.

  Mom smirked. “So you did hear me last night and remembered to put the bus pass in your bag! I kept telling you it was still on your desk, but you were buried in your phone. Dad said to stop reminding you since you’re in seventh grade now, but I hated the thought of you getting on the bus and realizing you didn’t have it.”

  I could feel my cheeks warm. “Yeah, that would have been a bad start to the morning.”

  “Coach had a meeting today during lunch—I made JV captain in volleyball!” Taryn yelled from the kitchen.

  “That’s wonderful!” Mom said, walking into the room. I followed, panicked that the word “volleyball” was even being mentioned. Please don’t tell Mom, Taryn.

  Meanwhile, Taryn pursed her lips as she continued to Facetime Avery. “Zoe forgot her bus pass and skipped volleyball tryouts, and the principal took her phone.”

  “Taryn!” I yelled.

  “It’s true!” Taryn shouted.

  Mom pointed to Taryn’s phone. “Hang up with Avery, please. And go upstairs. Now.” Taryn stood up and stomped away. Mom turned to me. “You got your phone taken away? And you skipped tryouts? Zoe.” She shook her head, disappointed. “What am I always saying about being present?”

  “I forgot tryouts, okay? There was a lot going on today.” My heart was beating fast. “And it didn’t matter that I forgot my pass. Clare’s mom gave me a ride home because I missed the bus.”

  Mom frowned. “Wait. Who is Clare?”

  That was what Mom had taken away from this conversation?

  “Clare. I invited her to the cabana for”—I didn’t actually want to say “Laura’s birthday”—“the party.”

  “Oh right! Why didn’t you just call Dianne?” Mom asked. “She picked up Laura and a bunch of girls this afternoon. Why didn’t you go with them? Did Laura invite you? You had classes together today, right?”

  The Laura inquisition was starting. This was my cue to exit. “Um, I’m going to go upstairs and cover my books and stuff.”

  Mom studied me for a moment quietly, and I held my breath, wondering if there would be follow-up questions. Instead, she dismissed me. “Just be ready to leave in an hour.” I walked past her and headed up the stairs. “We have Izumi reservations at five.”

  In the past we always had first-day-of-school dinner with Laura’s family. But after what happened at the beach, I assumed both of our moms agreed to cancel. Looking at my mom’s smiling face, I could only assume one thing: She didn’t realize how bad things had gotten between me and Laura. How did I get out of dinner without explaining what was going on?

  Taryn rushed back downstairs. “Mom, nooooo. We cannot go out to dinner with Laura’s family tonight!”

  Mom blinked. “Why not?”

  Taryn and I briefly glanced at each other and I knew for once we were on the same team.

  “Because I’m too old to have dinner with the twins,” Taryn said smoothly. “Who am I supposed to talk to?”

  “You can survive one dinner. It’s tradition,” Mom said. “Dianne even got a reservation for the private room tonight.”

  Laura and I always liked the private room because it had glass walls and we had our own hibachi chef. Key word: “liked.”

  “Zoe just threw up,” Taryn blurted.

  I nodded. “It’s true. I didn’t want to tell you, but…”

  “It was all over the kitchen,” Taryn added. “I cleaned it up.”

  “Really well,” I chimed in.

  “Are you all right?” Mom felt my forehead. “It’s probably from being in a hot school all day.” She ran into the bathroom and came back with a thermometer, popping it into my mouth before I could protest. The thermometer beeped ten seconds later. “No temperature. I think you’re just overheated. Why don’t you go lie down for an hour before dinner?” She looked at my sister. “And you’re going too. It’s tradition.” Her face softened. “Besides, this is the first year Dianne is going without Darren. We can’t make her go alone.”

  I knew how much Laura missed having her dad around. He’d moved upstate after the divorce and she saw him only once a month, if she was lucky. She didn’t like to talk about it much. Now I felt bad.

  “Okay. I’m sure I’ll be fine in an hour,” I said, and Taryn gave me a look.

  Mom’s face brightened. “Great! I’ll tell your dad to meet us at the restaurant. He had a meeting after school.”

  “Yay, tradition.” Taryn pumped her fist in the air and stomped up the stairs and to her room. So did I.

  “Oh, and Zo-Zo?” Mom called back to me. “You might want to change your pants. There’s a stain on the back of them.”

  * * *

  For a Tuesday night the restaurant was packed. I assumed it was because everyone was celebrating the first day of school like we were. Everywhere I looked, chefs were flinging shrimp to customers or creating onion volcanos that they lit on fire. Waitresses hurried past with brightly colored bottles of Ramune sodas with the marble at the top that descended into the drink when you popped the cap on the lid. Laura and I were obsessed with them. “Were.” Who knew what she was into now?

  My heart was beating wildly as my parents snaked through the restaurant, following the hostess to the private room. In a panic, I pulled out my phone. YouTube. Instagram. Twitter. Maybe if I looked busy—maybe if I was busy—I wouldn’t freak out about having to make small talk with my ex-BFF. Taryn and I walked behind my parents. I felt Taryn put her hand on my arm.

  “Do you want my advice about this dinner, or do you only take advice from Laura?” she whispered.

  I spun around, surprised. “Of course I want your advice; you just never give me any. What should I do?”

  “Be friendly enough for Mom not to notice anything is wrong, but not so friendly that you look pathetic.” She exhaled long and slow, and her voice dropped even lower. “This happened to me once too, and I know it’s hard, but trust me, you do not want an ex-friend thinking you’re obsessed with them.”

  I didn’t know Taryn had friend problems. “What happened to you?”

  “It doesn’t matter. Just know I’ve got your— HEY!” Taryn noticed a group of girls waving to her. “What are you doing here?” She turned to me. “Are you going to be okay if I hang here for a few?”

  The other girls looked at me, and my stomach tightened. Taryn was supposed to be my wingwoman in there. But what was I supposed to say? “I’ll be fine.”

  I was officially on my own.

  The hostess held open the door to the private dining table. Laura’s twin sisters, Paige and Petra, were already popping open blue Ramune sodas and talking animatedly to the waitress. Mom and Dad made a beeline for Dianne. That left me and Laura, who was already seated and looking at her phone.

  Here went nothing.

  I walked over. “H
ey, Laura.”

  Laura looked up and smiled. “Zo-Zo!” Then she stood up and hugged me. “How was your first day? Did you ever find your schedule after I saw you in my Spanish class?”

  My cheeks burned at the memory. “Yep! The rest of my day went smooth.” Not really.

  “Oh good!” Laura smiled. “Sorry I couldn’t help you, but I did not want to start talking and get in trouble on the first day, you know?” Her blue eyes blinked rapidly. “Today was crazy! Going from Spanish to English on the other side of the building in three minutes is insane! And Senorita Browning seems tough.” She handed me a pair of chopsticks, and we both got to work ripping open the paper packaging, snapping the chopsticks apart, and filing the top rough edge of the wood, like we always did.

  “I know!” Was Laura really opening up to me? “And what’s with Mr. Goran spitting all over the front row while he talks in social studies?”

  Laura threw back her head and her long blond hair touched her waist. “Eww! I was in the splash zone for about two minutes before I moved my seat.” We both laughed, and it felt good.

  “Anything to drink?” asked the waitress.

  “Two blue raspberry sodas.” Laura looked at me for confirmation. “Right?”

  “Right,” I said, surprised she was speaking for the two of us again.

  “Girls!” Dad walked over with his camera. He’s the only person I know who still takes pictures with a real camera and not a phone. “Say ‘We’re in seventh grade!’ ”

  Laura threw her arm around me. “We’re in seventh grade!” she shouted.

  Satisfied, Dad went to bother Paige and Petra. Laura started giggling.

  “OMG, I love your dad. He never leaves home without that camera, even though he has an iPhone! Remember that time he tried to take our picture at the opening of Burgeritos?”

  I started to laugh too. “I got mad at him and started yelling on line.”

  Laura imitated my dad’s voice. “ ‘It’s the first time you’ve ever had a burger in a tortilla. How can I not photograph it?’ ”