by Jen Calonita
“Really? Okay!” I didn’t even remember buying this shirt, let alone wearing it. What was with the rope braiding? That didn’t look like my style at all, but it fit Taryn perfectly.
Taryn jumped up, ran into her room, and came back with the jeans I coveted. “Here.”
I pinched myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. Nope.
“And hey, if you’re not with Ava and Sarah and everyone tomorrow night, do you want to hang? We could get sushi and watch an Audrey Hepburn movie. You’ve been so busy, we haven’t had a sister night in forever.”
Okay, now I really knew something was up. Taryn never wanted to hang out with me anymore. But who was I to refuse? “Sure!”
Taryn pulled back my quilt. “Now get up! Marisol’s mom will be here any minute. I told Mom you were up fifteen minutes ago.”
“Marisol?” I repeated. “Ava’s friend?” Taryn nodded. “Don’t I take the bus?”
Taryn turned to walk out the door. “Get dressed already before Mom changes her mind!”
“ ‘Changes her mind’? About what? Where is Mom?” I asked.
Taryn whipped her head back to look at me with a raised eyebrow. “You sure you want to ask either of those questions? You’re lucky she left early today, or she’d have been all over you about that stunt you pulled.”
“What stunt?” I asked, but Taryn shook her head and kept going, waving her hand toward my corkboard, which I noticed was overflowing with pictures. There were pictures of me, Laura, and the drama queens at the beach, at an amusement park, holding a broken stop sign (um, wasn’t that illegal?), on a campout, even onstage doing…karaoke? I was holding a microphone in the picture. No way.
There were no photos of Laura and me alone, but tons of us with her friends Ava, Hyacinth, Sarah, Steph, and Marisol. I didn’t see Jada or Reagan in any of the pictures, though, or anything from Future City.
Clearly things had changed from that one party, but it looked like for the better. Taryn and I were hanging out, my photo board was full of fun I didn’t remember having, and I no longer had to take the bus!
The second day of school was going much better than the first already.
I brushed my teeth, combed my hair, went back to my room to get dressed, pulling on Taryn’s jeans—they were as perfect as I’d always imagined—and then I went to my closet to pick out a top. Whoa! Where did these new clothes come from? And when did I get so neat? My clothes were now coordinated by color and hanging on racks rather than littering the floor. I grabbed a blue button-down top with anchors on it. It looked really cute with the jeans.
A car honked.
“Your ride is here!” Taryn yelled.
“Coming!” I grabbed my bag and my phone. It felt warm, as if it had been working hard all night. I guess it had. I quickly texted Laura.
Me: Hey! See you in Mr. Goran’s class. Avoid a seat in the spit zone!
I waited a second for Laura’s reply, but none came. Maybe she was in the car with Marisol already. As soon as I stepped outside, I saw a red minivan parked in the driveway. The sliding door opened and Marisol poked her head out. “Get in!”
I climbed in and came face to face with five girls wearing yellow. Laura wasn’t one of them.
Ava looked up from her phone and grimaced. “I thought we agreed on yellow today.” She was wearing a yellow eyelet dress.
“We definitely said yellow,” said Sarah, even though she didn’t look up from her phone. She had on a yellow The Lion King T-shirt.
“Yellow!” said Hyacinth, holding up her wrist, which had a yellow scrunchie wrapped around it.
“Z, you were the one who suggested yellow in the first place,” said Steph, who had a yellow headband in her hair. “And now you’re wearing blue.”
“Seat belt, Z!” said Mrs. Tolman, who clearly knew me and called me Z.
Ugh. Dad always joked Z would be my alien name. We always joked that we’d know if there had been an alien infiltration if anyone used Z as my real name. Now the drama queens were.
“Sorry, I must have forgot.” I climbed into the third row next to Steph, and the door shut behind me. Ava and Hyacinth were sitting in front of me checking their Instagram feeds. “Where’s Laura? Is she sick?”
Hyacinth snorted. “Laura,” she said, but that really wasn’t an answer.
None of the other girls replied. That’s when I started to worry. Where was Laura? And why was I getting a ride to school and she wasn’t? Not that I missed the bus, but this car was warm and smelled like a sea of perfumes that was making me gag. I had to calm down and figure out what was going on. I fished in my bag, hoping to find my metal water bottle. I found it and took a swig.
Marisol turned around in the front seat and smiled at me. “I’m wearing yellow and blue, so I guess Z and I think alike.”
Sarah gave me a skeptical look. “Or maybe Z called you and told you she changed her mind.” Everyone looked at me as I busied myself taking another chug. “That would be a best friend thing to do.”
I spewed water all over Ava and Hyacinth.
“Eww!” Hyacinth cried.
“Z! What gives?” asked Ava.
“Marisol and I are best friends?” I barely knew her!
“Girls, you’re all friends,” Marisol’s mom chimed in.
“Mom,” Marisol hissed.
“Sarah’s just paranoid.” Ava wiped off the water with a tissue. “We equally adore each other.” The others nodded. “I’m sure Z just forgot she suggested wearing yellow today.” She smiled at me. “I’m sure she won’t forget we’re wearing gray tomorrow.”
“Gray!” Marisol said, and texted herself a reminder.
I thought back to Laura’s first-day-of-school picture when the drama queens were wearing rainbow-colored skirts. Did they color-coordinate so everyone knew they were friends? Why couldn’t everyone wear what they wanted?
Mrs. Tolman pulled up in front of the school. “Have a great second day!” The side door slid open, and the drama queens began to pile out. “What time is Steph’s mom getting you this afternoon? Are there play auditions yet, or is that next week?”
I froze climbing out of the minivan. Play auditions? I was part of the play now too?
“Next week,” Hyacinth said. “But I think we’re practicing at Sarah’s this afternoon, then going for pizza.”
Mrs. Tolman nodded. “Okay, text me if you need a ride.” Then she was off.
Hyacinth winked at me. “Play practice and pizza after we go shopping at On Point. It’s your turn to pick out what top we’re buying!”
She said it like I had the money to shop in that store. I didn’t. On Point was a boutique in town where there was nothing under forty dollars. Even their scrunchies were designer and cost fifty dollars and up.
I searched the crowd for Laura, half expecting to see her waiting for us at the curb, but she wasn’t there either. My phone buzzed in my bag, and I pulled it out, wondering if it was her texting me to say where she was. Instead, it was Mom.
Mom: I hate fighting with you, but I meant what I said. Your attitude has to change. This is not like you.
Huh? Another text, much longer than the first, appeared.
Mom: Lying about where you are, not answering texts, asking for money almost daily to buy frozen coffee drinks and all those clothes. We can’t keep up with this spending! You want more money, start babysitting, but no, you don’t want to miss out on a minute with your friends. Zoe, if this doesn’t stop, you won’t just be grounded; you won’t leave the house again till high school graduation. And don’t get me started on how you’ve been treating Laura.
How I’ve been treating Laura? Spending money on coffee drinks? I didn’t even drink coffee! And what clothes? Unless…Was that what Hyacinth meant by picking out shirts at On Point? Did the drama queens take turns deciding what clothes we bought? Wh
y would I want all my clothes to look just like theirs? I would never do that…would I? I thought again about my new color-coordinated wardrobe. Obviously, things had changed. My heart started to pound as a third text appeared.
Mom: I expect you home for dinner—do not go for pizza after school! Marisol’s mom already texted me that’s the plan—and we will talk further. I love you.
“Z! You coming?” Hyacinth and the girls were headed to the main entrance. Our two assistant principals were standing outside greeting students.
I scanned the crowd again for Laura. Where was she?
“Z! Let’s go!”
I put my phone back into my pocket and hurried after the sea of yellow. Maybe the answers I was looking for were waiting inside.
The halls were crowded as Marisol and I zigzagged around people hanging out in front of their lockers. Before first period was the most chaotic time of the day at Fairview. I didn’t see Reagan or Jada either. I tried looking for Laura, but it was no use. Eventually, I even lost sight of Marisol.
“Hey.”
When I turned around, I came face to face with Jake Graser. “Hey?” Was he talking to me?
He held his books under one arm and balanced a Sharks lacrosse cinch bag over his left shoulder. “How have you been?”
“Good? I think?” It was an honest answer, but it still didn’t explain why Jake was talking to me.
“Cool.” He ran a hand through that floppy brown hair of his that always covered his right eye. I constantly teased Laura that Jake needed a serious haircut. “You have math first, right?” he said. “Can I walk you up there?”
Walk me to class? Me?
I felt someone grab my hand. It was Marisol. “Sorry, Jakey, she’s got to go.” Marisol pulled me away and Jake just stood there looking sort of defeated. “He is so suffocating, am I right?” We bobbed and weaved our way through the crowd again and headed up the stairs. “I mean, you dumped him weeks ago, and he still hasn’t gotten the hint.”
“I dumped Jake Graser?” I stopped short, and two guys walking behind us crashed into me.
“Sorry, Z!” one guy apologized before walking away.
I didn’t even know who they were and they were calling me Z? And I’d dated Jake Graser? No wonder Laura hadn’t texted me back! No, this wasn’t how things were supposed to go at all! My hands were starting to feel clammy. I could almost feel my phone burning in my jeans pockets—excuse me, Taryn’s jeans pockets, because she liked me enough to lend them to me. Meanwhile, I was overspending money I didn’t have and was in huge trouble at home. “I don’t understand what is going on.”
Marisol cocked her head to one side. “You really need to calm down. You’ll never beat Sarah for the lead in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory if you get this worked up, and I’d prefer you get the part over her. No offense. Maybe I’ll even get to be your understudy.”
“I am not trying out for Charlie and the Chocolate Factory! I’d break out in hives if I had to do the play.”
“Technically, it’s a musical, but hey!” Marisol stopped and stood in front of me, her eyes burning into my head. “What have we talked about?”
“Uh…” I didn’t know the answer to this question.
“Be confident!” Marisol said as if I should know. “You have to believe you’ll get the part.” She looped her arm through mine. “There’s nothing to be scared of. All of us will be cheering you on when you’re up there trying out. Besides, it will be fun. We already agreed we’re doing the play together as a group.”
For a moment I wasn’t sure what to say. Marisol was being really nice. She made the drama queens sound like my own personal cheerleaders. Maybe that’s what Laura liked about them. But at the end of the day, doing the drama—or musical—just wasn’t what I was interested in. “Yeah, but…”
“Z…” Marisol played with the long yellow beaded necklace around her neck. “Everything okay? You were so quiet in the car this morning. Do you have food poisoning? Maybe the hibachi place had bad sushi. Ava keeps saying we have to try somewhere new since everyone goes there now, even Laura.”
I grabbed Marisol by the shoulders. “Laura? Laura Lancaster? Where is she?”
Marisol looked alarmed. “How should I know? We haven’t spoken to her in a while.”
“ ‘We’?” I echoed. “You mean you, right?”
“I mean all of us. You know things have been frosty since that sleepover at her house right before summer. First, Jake was all into you and she was jealous, and then you sort of took her spot in the group.” She shrugged. “I guess she finally got tired of it because she fell off the radar by the time Annie rolled around. Things have calmed down, I guess, but she really hates you.”
“Hates me?” A ringing sound started to whoosh through my ears. “Why?”
“Because…Uh-oh.” Marisol’s eyes widened. “Speaking of drama—there she is….” She motioned down the hall.
Laura was walking alone, her head down, a Charlie and the Chocolate Factory script visible in her pile of books. Coincidentally, she was wearing the same vintage yellow Lion King shirt Sarah had on.
“I wouldn’t talk to her if I were you,” Marisol warned, but I was already running toward her. “Last time things didn’t go so well.”
“Laura!” I called frantically as people in the hallway turned to look at us. “Laura!”
Laura saw me and quickly turned on her track shoes.
But I wouldn’t give up. “Laura!” She turned left into the girls’ bathroom, and I followed. I grabbed her before she could close herself into a stall.
Her face was eerily calm. “Oh, now you can talk to me when no one is around?” she said coldly, and I winced.
“It’s not like that,” I said, gulping for air.
“Let me guess—next, you’re going to tell me you’re sorry,” Laura said, folding her arms. “Guess what? You’re too late. I waited all summer for you to apologize, but you never did. You ghosted me, took my friends and the boy I liked, and acted like I didn’t exist.”
I never would have done that, would I? “Please. You’re my best friend. That night at the sleepover with the Jake text…I was just doing it to protect you.”
“Protect me?” Laura freaked. “You were looking out for yourself. I saw you trying to kiss up to Sarah and Ava, which is funny because you always told me they were drama queens!”
“You can have them back,” I blurted out. “I don’t want to be friends with them, audition for the play, overspend at On Point, or have to choose my outfit for school based on a group decision.”
“Is that so?” I heard someone say.
I turned around. Marisol was standing in the doorway, and she actually looked hurt. Now I felt even worse.
“Find someone else to sit with at lunch,” Marisol said.
“Wait, I…” But Marisol stormed away.
“Guess your friendship with them is over now too,” Laura said.
I inhaled sharply and tried not to cry.
“Getting upset isn’t going to work with me,” Laura said coldly. “We both know you couldn’t find your own life so you had to take mine. When we were friends I could never have anything for myself! You wanted everything—even Jake!”
Was that really what Laura thought? That I wanted her life? It wasn’t true. I just wanted her to still be part of mine. “I swear you’ve got this all wrong….”
How did one little text change so much?
“Let me make things right,” I said desperately as the first bell rang. “I miss you. You’re my best friend.”
Laura looked unfazed. “If this is how you treat your best friend, you don’t deserve one. In fact, I wish we’d never been friends to begin with. Stay away from me!” Laura ran out of the bathroom.
Before the door even swung shut behind her, I burst into tears. I didn’t care
that I was missing first period, or that I’d get detention. I couldn’t face anyone like this. I wasn’t sure how long I stood there crying before I heard a squeaky stall door open and footsteps.
“Zoe? Are you okay?”
It was Clare. When I saw her, I started to sob even harder.
“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I was in a stall, and I heard you two come in and start yelling and…oh geez, Zoe, I’m so sorry. Listen to me. Take a deep breath,” she said, and I did as I was told. “Good.” Clare wet a paper towel and handed it to me. “This will keep your face from getting blotchy. You don’t want to go out in the hallway looking like you were crying. Even though, well, you were.”
I pressed the wet towel to my face and felt my breathing start to slow. “Thanks.” I stopped sniffling. “What are you doing in here anyway? No one uses this bathroom.”
“I know. That’s why I use it.” Clare ran a hand through a strand of her purple-dipped hair. “Or at least that’s why I did at first.” She looked around at the peeling pink-painted walls. “Last year I was in here crying every day.” She half smiled. “It feels like some unofficial rule that girls should always help another girl crying in the bathroom.”
We laughed till the sound died out and I could hear a faucet leaking at one of the sinks. Someone needed to fix that ASAP. I looked curiously at Clare. “I don’t mean to pry, but why did you cry so much last year?”
“It was over my best friend too,” Clare said. “Ava Sinclair.” I must have looked surprised, because then Clare said, “Yeah, a lot of people can’t believe we were friends either. But Ava was different when we were both at Camp Elementary. Would you believe she lived for STEM Club? We even won a Long Island robotics competition for a LEGO MINDSTORMS robot we programmed.”
“Ava?” I repeated. “Built LEGO robots for fun?” The girl who talked about nothing but boys and coordinating outfits was into building robots?