The Retake

by Jen Calonita

  “By not photographing it!” I said, which is exactly what I said at the time. I watched Dad taking a picture of the twins. “If you only knew how many photos I had to take on battlefields this summer.”

  Laura winced. “I never asked you how that went. Was it torture?”

  “Torture.” But even three weeks in the car living on fast food wasn’t as torturous as coming home and realizing my best friend had dropped me. “What about you? How was playing Molly in Annie? I saw that video you posted from the ‘Hard Knock Life’ scene. You were really good.”

  Laura sat up straighter and smiled. “Thanks! I hated that we only had three performances. We really wanted you to see it.”

  “We.” Laura had a new “we.” Was it Sarah, or did she just mean her and her mom? I tried to hold it together. “And how was Lake George with your dad? You didn’t post any pictures.”

  Laura’s smile faded. “Yeah, I…” She looked over at Dianne talking to my mother and lowered her voice. “I felt funny posting because Mom wasn’t there, you know? I didn’t want it to look like we were having fun without her….” She trailed off and looked at her plate. “It was our first separate family vacation, and it was a little weird.”

  “I get it.” Weird was something I could understand.

  “We went on the Minnehaha sunset cruise, rode a Jet Ski, did the usual horse-and-carriage ride, hit the water park. Paige and Petra didn’t seem to care, but I thought it was strange. I mean, if you want us to get used to only seeing you once a month and loving it, then plan something different, you know?”

  Laura was confiding in me just like I wanted. We hadn’t talked like this in months! What if I said the wrong thing? I tried to keep my answers short. “I’m sorry.”

  She shrugged, showing off her sunburned shoulders. “Whatever. I’m pushing Mom to take us to Florida for Christmas.” The waitress placed the sodas in front of us, and Laura passed me one. We both unwrapped the cap, snapped the cap into the top of bottle, and heard the satisfying pop as the marble in the soda dropped into the main part. “At least you got to do something new on vacation.” She turned to her side. “Mom?” Laura called over to Dianne across the table. “Tell them we want the flaming onion tower! It’s our thing.”

  Our thing. What was happening?

  Were Laura and I okay again?

  It sure felt that way. For the next hour we talked so much we almost missed the flaming-onion-volcano. We both put our phones away. She didn’t mention the drama queens. I didn’t mention the birthday disaster. We talked about The Office reruns (we were both still obsessed) and this app Laura had discovered that filters a tan onto your skin, even when you’re pale. (This explained why the drama queens always looked so flawless.) We were acting normal. Laura-and-Zoe normal. And it felt great. So great that I felt relaxed enough to ask Laura what activities she was doing that fall.

  Laura scrunched up her nose. “Not volleyball. That’s for sure.”

  The chef slid the steak and shrimp I’d ordered onto my plate, next to the mountain of fried rice I loved. Suddenly I wasn’t hungry.

  “I told Mom I am not doing sports this year.” She took the chicken from her plate and put it onto mine, then took my shrimp without even asking. It was how we always did it.

  “Yes, you are!” Dianne yelled from across the table. It’s amazing what great hearing moms have. Dianne looked at my mom. “I told her I want her to do at least two sports this year, and…”

  The two started talking again, and Laura looked at me. “She’s delusional. I’m not doing volleyball or track. Maybe lacrosse.”

  I pointed a chopstick at her. “You hate lacrosse. You said it was scary.”

  Laura blinked. “Well, I was wrong. Sarah plays, and she’s been teaching me this summer. I might try it in the spring. I love watching Jake Graser play.” She grinned. “Maybe we’ll both play, and then he and I can practice together. Killer bees, that would be amazing.”

  “Killer bees?” Now it was my turn to blink.

  Laura pushed her hair behind her right ear, and I noticed she had a second piercing. The earrings were tiny anchors. “Oh, it’s just this thing Sarah and I made up.” She started to giggle. “We were outside the Annie rehearsals, and there was a bee, and Sarah said it was a killer bee. Then I said let’s kill all the bees, and I swear the bee heard us and started chasing us, so now it’s what we say when we are really into something. It means, like, amazing. Definite.” She shrugged. “It’s our thing.”

  They had a thing now? We were the ones who had things!

  “What about Future City? Are you still doing that?” I asked as the chef began tossing shrimp. Taryn still wasn’t even in the room yet.

  “I love Future City!” Laura said extra loud, then leaned closer to me. “I told my mom I’m doing it, but I’m not.” She looked horrified. “No one does Future City in seventh grade. At least, that’s what Ava told me. She was in Annie, too, and her older sister said some of these clubs are a social death sentence. Besides, there are so many cooler clubs to choose from, like a cappella group.” I must have made a face, because she quickly backpedaled. “But if Future City is still your thing, then you should do it. It’s just not mine anymore.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say. That morning, when Reagan, Jada, and I were talking about this year’s Future City project, I was already thinking of what I would create in our SimCity computer program model. But hearing Laura, I felt funny again. Was a STEM club lame? If I liked it, did that make me lame too?

  “I’m too busy for clubs anyway,” Laura yammered on. “My first love is theater. I’m trying out for the fall drama, then the spring musical and another local theater production, so my schedule will be packed. Did you know if you’re into theater, you can even apply to Sayerville High’s On Tour drama program and go there instead of Fairview High? Sarah and I are definitely applying.” She got a far-off look in her eyes. “Killer bees, that would be incredible if we both got in.”

  Now Laura was thinking of going with Sarah to a different high school? And she hadn’t even thought to tell me? Everything about our friendship had changed so fast, I couldn’t keep up.

  Laura’s phone pinged. She read the text and laughed, then put the phone down again. “Mom? It’s almost seven.”

  Her mom frowned. “We’re not done eating yet.” She looked at my mom apologetically. “Some of Laura’s new friends are rehearsing tonight for the upcoming play.”

  Now Laura was leaving the dinner, which I hadn’t even wanted to go to?

  Laura was texting away again. “You know, you really should try out, Zo-Zo! You’d be good. Think of how great we always sing together.”

  “In the car maybe, but you know I hate doing anything in front of a crowd. Don’t you remember what happened at Future City regionals last spring? I botched my part of the presentation and couldn’t remember anything. Even the memory of that hot convention center room in New Jersey still makes me nauseous.”

  Laura sighed and pulled her hand away and I wasn’t sure if it was because I was talking about Future City again, or because of my fear of public speaking. “You just have to practice more and you’ll be fine. You know, Sarah says—”

  I finally snapped. “I don’t care what one of the drama queens thinks.” I instantly regretted my choice of words, but it was too late.

  Laura put her phone into her bag. “Drama queens? Is that what you think we are? Nice.”

  “I just meant because you’re all in drama,” I said quickly, but Laura ignored me and stood up.

  “Mom? I told Sarah we’d pick her up at seven. We have to go,” Laura announced.

  “Sarah! Sarah!” the twins shouted as Taryn finally walked in.

  “I love her,” said Petra.

  “She’s the new you, Zoe,” Paige added, and Taryn winced.

  Laura caught my eye, but I lo
oked away as if I hadn’t heard. I stood up as well. “I’m just going to run to the bathroom,” I told my mom, then I smiled at Laura. “Good luck with rehearsal.”

  “Thanks,” Laura said awkwardly. “And hey…next time we do this, we’ll have to make sure we have time for green-tea ice cream. It’s the best.”

  “The best,” I repeated, but we just looked at each other sadly before turning away.

  I wasn’t sure there would be a next time with green-tea ice cream.

  Our moment—if I could even call it that—was already gone.

  Nice move, Zoe.

  Laura and I were getting along like we used to, and what did I do? Called Sarah a drama queen.

  Why did I do that? Why?

  I knew I should apologize, but bringing it up on text felt stupid, and I couldn’t approach her at her locker because the drama queens would be with her. We weren’t hanging out, and who knew when Mom and Dianne were going to get us together again? It could be a month or longer, and by then, it would be too late to say anything. Paige was already calling Sarah the new Zoe. I couldn’t let things between us get any worse. I had to fix our friendship now.

  But how?

  Lying on my bed after dinner, I pulled out my phone and took a selfie. It felt important to show I wasn’t upset that Laura and I had fought. I let my hair spill all around me on the pillow, and snapped three-quarters of my smiling face. I hashtagged it #firstdayinthebooks and uploaded it to Instagram.

  As soon as I did, I saw Laura’s latest post. She and five girls were sitting on someone’s porch and holding what looked like scripts. Rehearsing! Laura had written along with the hashtags #getitrightordontdoitatall #bestiesboundforbroadway #killerbees #dramaqueens.

  Was the “drama queens” hashtag a dig at me? I pictured Laura telling Sarah about what I said at dinner. You know who’s the real drama queen? Zoe. She can’t accept that our friendship has been over for months.

  Tonight could have been my chance to smooth things over with Laura, and I’d blown it. What if I never got another chance to make things right? A tear fell onto my phone. I quickly rubbed it away, accidentally closing Instagram along with it. The icon for the new app stared back at me. It had a symbol of a camera with counterclockwise arrows surrounding it. Curious, I clicked on it.

  Strangely, the app features were just like Instagram, with lots of people’s photos and posts in a continuous scroll. I didn’t recognize anyone I knew, so I kept scrolling till I landed on a picture that was familiar.

  It was mine.

  I sat up on my bed. How did this app have my Instagram pictures? Or a whole profile on me that I hadn’t created? I started clicking through my pictures and found one of Laura and me on a sleepover last spring. We were side by side in matching purple sleeping bags.

  Laura’s mom always let her do something over-the-top the weekend before school ended, and she always invited me to come along. One year we did Sephora makeovers, and another, facials. The sleepover had always been just the two of us, but this spring, Laura invited the drama queens to come, too, because they’d just started hanging out during the sixth-grade play. The drama queens wanted to spend the night pranking boys and playing this game called Truth or Text, which went really badly. Laura blamed me for what happened.

  Looking at the picture of us again I wondered: If I had spent the sleepover talking to Laura about Jake’s hair and his lacrosse team like Sarah and the drama queens did, would that have changed everything between us? Compared to Laura and her new friends, were my interests immature?

  There was a knock on my door. “Zo-Zo? You still up?”

  It was Mom. I quickly wiped my eyes. “Yeah. Just getting ready for bed.”

  Mom came in carrying a stack of laundry for me to put away. It smelled like baby powder, lavender, and fresh sheets rolled into one, kind of how my mom smelled. She took one look at me and just knew. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

  I didn’t answer. I just started to cry harder.

  Mom sat down on the edge of my bed and didn’t say a word. Instead, she leaned in for a hug, and I crumbled into her.

  “You’re getting so big that I’ll take these free hugs whenever I can get them,” she said. “They’re rare these days.”

  “I hugged you just last week,” I told her shoulder.

  “Yeah, because I gave you twenty dollars to get a new phone case.”

  “That was hugworthy!” I pointed out, and we both broke apart laughing.

  “Was dinner okay tonight?” Mom asked suddenly. “I know Laura had to leave early….”

  My smile slipped at the mention of Laura. “It was fine.”

  “I didn’t know Laura had other plans. Dianne said she’s very into acting lately. If I had known she would leave before dessert, I would have—”

  I just wanted to stop talking about Laura. “It’s okay, Mom.”

  Mom pushed my hair off my face and stared back at me. “You know, seventh grade is a great time to meet some new people, try some new things.”

  “Mom.” I turned away, realizing I sounded a lot like Taryn.

  “I’m just saying, Laura is doing the school play instead of volleyball. Maybe it’s time you branched out, too, and did something without Laura.”

  I blinked in surprise. “I like doing things with Laura.”

  “I know.” Mom pulled at a loose thread on my quilt and yanked it out. “I just don’t want to see you waiting around for her to call or text you when she’s doing other things. If you really like volleyball and Future City, which I think you do, stick with them because you like them. Don’t quit because Laura isn’t doing them too.”

  “I’m not.” But the word “immature” kept flashing through my mind.

  “Good!” She patted my leg. “Maybe a break from Laura is a good thing.”

  “But I don’t want a break from Laura,” I said, a little taken aback Mom even suggested it. “She’s my best friend.”

  “I know, but…” She hesitated. “What about those girls you like from Future City? Reagan and Jada? You invited them to Laura’s birthday party. Where do they hang out? What do they do?”

  Here came the questions. “I don’t know. They’re best friends. Like Laura and I.” Were, I don’t add. “They have each other. They don’t need a third wheel.”

  “Not everyone only hangs out with one person,” Mom reminded me. “Maybe those girls are hoping to making new friends this year. I just don’t want to see you sitting home waiting for Laura to call.”

  “I’m not against new friends, but Laura is my best friend,” I said, a bit huffier than I intended. “And she’s just busy getting ready to try out for the musical. They wanted to practice tonight. That’s all.”

  “I’m just saying new friends can be a great part of middle school.” Mom smiled to herself. “I remember when Christiane Larken moved to my town in seventh grade. She was so quiet in class. I thought she was stuck-up.”

  “Stuck-up?” I repeated. Mom used such funny phrases sometimes.

  “Yes, but your grandmother said to give her a chance. Maybe she’s shy, I remember her saying, and it turned out she was right. I invited Christiane to sit with me at lunch, and the rest is history. Ask Aunt Chris. She’ll tell you the story.”

  “Aunt Chris is Christiane Larken?” I said in surprise. Aunt Chris lived in Massachusetts, so we didn’t see her often, but when they got together, they talked for hours. Sometimes when they were on the phone, Mom laughed so hard I thought she would fall over. It wasn’t hard to see how well they got along.

  Mom nodded. “Yes. We’ve been friends ever since. Turns out she was terrified of starting a new school. That was why she was quiet. You never know what is going on in someone else’s head. I’m just asking you to try to be present, get your head out of your phone, and look around. You might be missing out on an amazing friendsh
ip right in front of you.” She kissed my head and closed the door behind her when she left.

  I knew Mom meant well, but she was wrong. So was Taryn. Laura and I had been best friends for years. That didn’t just end in a day. I just had to work on being cooler and liking some of the new activities she did. Maybe if I did that, she wouldn’t keep ditching me for the drama queens. Or she’d invite me to hang out with them too. I wasn’t sure I liked that idea, but if it meant hanging with Laura, it was worth it. I looked at my phone again. The sleepover picture was still open in that app. I’d captioned the picture two peas in a pod. We weren’t anymore.

  Then I noticed something I hadn’t seen before. Just like on Instagram, this app had a like button and a comment feature. But this app also had a third option: a back arrow. What was that for?

  I clicked on the button. Suddenly there was a bright camera flash, as if I had taken a picture, but no new image appeared on the screen.

  This app doesn’t even work. How lame.

  I placed my phone down on my bedside table, and the next thing I knew, I was asleep.

  * * *

  “Zoooooeeeeee! ZOE!”

  I felt someone shaking me, and I opened my eyes. Loud music was playing and I heard people laughing. The smell of burnt popcorn filled the air. I blinked hard. Was that Laura leaning over me?

  “Don’t go to sleep! It’s only ten o’clock! We were just taking pictures! Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!”

  I was so confused. “What are you doing here?” I asked with a yawn.

  Laura started to laugh so hard she snorted. “What am I doing here? This is my house!”

  What? I looked down. I was in my purple sleeping bag. Laura was in her purple sleeping bag. I looked up again. We were in her basement. I could see other girls stretched out on sleeping bags all around us, and a rom-com playing on the TV. This all felt very familiar…..

  Wait a minute!

  This felt familiar because it was familiar! This was the sleepover Laura had! But it couldn’t be. I had to be dreaming. Yes, that was it. I was dreaming about the sleepover because I’d just looked at the picture in that strange app.