Claudia and the Friendship Feud

by Ann M. Martin

  “Well, I have my own phone.”

  Jeremy sounded impressed. “Wow.”

  I wasn’t about to explain the BSC to him then, so I left it at that.

  “So I guess I’ll see you around school?” Jeremy joked.

  “Around every corner, apparently,” I said.

  “I’m glad we talked, Claudia.”

  “Me too. Have a good night.”

  As I hung up the phone, I heard it again — loud thumping inside my chest. And my mind was racing.

  If Stacey knew what had just happened she would —

  Better not to think about it.

  Stacey didn’t have anything to do with Jeremy’s calling me. It was his decision and his decision alone. Besides, he just wanted a friend. He was NOT flirting. He was just talking.

  Jeremy Rudolph was still dating Stacey McGill. He’d said that.

  I reached into my closet to sneak one of the cookies from my secret stash. It was time to eat something sweet.

  I, Claudia Kishi, eat whenever I am stressed. And really, really confused — like right now.

  I wondered if Jeremy felt the same way.

  Never eat Oreo cream filling before bed. You’ll wake up with a headache.

  That was what I told myself on the way to school the next day.

  It was the morning after Jeremy had called me.

  Jeremy. I even liked his name.

  I glanced at my watch. It was exactly ten hours and thirty-seven minutes since I had hung up the phone.

  What was I going to do? I couldn’t stop thinking about him. I felt so … well … guilty.

  He was Stacey’s boyfriend. I would never try to take him away from her. Would I? What was happening?

  I’d have to tell Erica about this.

  “Claudia?” Jeremy was standing by the lockers.

  “Jeremy,” I said. “Hey.”

  He looked awfully cute.

  “Hey.”

  “So …”

  “So …”

  This was the weirdest ten seconds of my entire life. Here I was, standing next to this person I had gabbed on the phone with for almost a whole hour, and we had nothing to say?

  “Uh, cool outfit.” Jeremy pointed to my plaid shirt. I was wearing it with brown bell-bottom pants and maroon sneakers.

  “Yours too.” He had on a black denim jacket, painter’s pants, and Doc Martens.

  We stood there for another few seconds, wobbling.

  I couldn’t look him directly in the eye. He avoided my glances too.

  Suddenly, we both said, “Last night —”

  We smiled.

  “Was fun, really fun,” I finished with a sigh.

  “I’m glad we can still be friends, Claudia.”

  “Me too.”

  Suddenly, I saw Stacey in the distance.

  I hope we can still be friends.

  Jeremy kept talking to me. He hadn’t seen Stacey yet. But I didn’t really hear what he was saying. I was much more focused on Stacey and what she was going to do next. Grab Jeremy and run down the hall was my guess.

  But she kept her distance. She didn’t mow me over to whisk Jeremy away. She didn’t interrupt us like she had last week. She waited. She leaned on the lockers and waited until Jeremy walked away. And then she walked up to me.

  “I need to talk to you right now,” Stacey whispered, grabbing my arm this time.

  “It’s time for class,” I said, pulling away.

  “This won’t take very long.”

  Exasperated, she led me into the girls’ room and checked under each stall to make sure no one else was there.

  For a moment, I actually thought she was ready to make up with me. Maybe she was going to call an end to our feud. I felt clammy, tense.

  Stacey stood there like a totem pole, but she was staring at the floor and tapping her foot.

  Part of me wanted things to be the way they used to be. Another part of me felt a little queasy. And angry. And depressed. And anxious.

  Stacey pointed her finger at me. “I know what you’re doing, Claudia.”

  “Huh?”

  She was like a boxer ready to pounce on me.

  “I know what you’re doing! This thing you have going on with Jeremy. I’ve seen the way you two act together. Look, I told you before that I don’t care if you’re friends with him. That’s fine. But remember that he’s my boyfriend, okay?”

  She’d knocked me out with that one.

  “Okay?” she repeated, with her hands on her hips.

  I nodded. What could I say?

  And then she added, a little bit more softly, “No hard feelings?”

  No hard feelings?

  With that, she picked up her backpack and walked out of the girls’ room.

  I grabbed for the edge of the sink so I wouldn’t fall over.

  My ex-best friend had just attacked me at school. She hadn’t thrown real punches, of course, but her words had hurt just as much.

  But remember that he’s my boyfriend, okay?

  I splashed a little cool water on my face.

  I couldn’t believe the Stacey McGill that I once knew and loved would ever do such a thing. What was going on?

  That’s when the second bell rang. I took a deep breath. First period would start in less than a minute. I had to hurry. I sped out into the corridor and rushed to English.

  Mrs. Hall told us about our new reading assignment: A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens. It’s a novel about the French Revolution.

  Between my English assignment and my confrontation with Stacey, I was facing one battle after another.

  * * *

  I couldn’t wait to see Erica to ask her advice on the situation. After school, we headed for a baby-sitting job at the Pikes’.

  The Pikes were quiet as mice when we first arrived. I think that because Jordan wanted to impress Erica, he convinced his brothers and sisters to be on their very best behavior. Even though we were sitting for seven kids, it felt like we were watching only one or two.

  After awhile, we left all the kids upstairs reading and playing videos, while I spilled my guts out to Erica.

  “Stacey said what? She did what?”

  Erica didn’t believe me at first. And when I told her the part about having no hard feelings, Erica just laughed.

  “No hard feelings? How about no feelings at all?”

  I wanted to cry. After all, Stacey was my best friend. Forever and ever and all that. I couldn’t just shut off my feelings for her. And Stacey had feelings too, right? I couldn’t believe that she’d suddenly turned into a monster.

  “The strange thing is,” I said to Erica, “part of me wishes Stacey were here now.”

  Before I could say anything else, Vanessa appeared.

  “Can we have an important meeting, please?”

  Vanessa marched into the living room, followed by Nicky and her sisters. They looked serious.

  “Ahem. We need to talk to you about … well …”

  “It’s just that …”

  “Claudia, you know we like it when you sit for us, but …”

  “We like Erica a lot too, but …”

  Claire spoke up all of a sudden. (She’s the youngest Pike.)

  “I wanna play with Sta-cey again,” she whined, sounding an awful lot like a Rugrat.

  It turned out that the kids had heard everything I’d said to Erica. They’d heard what had happened in school between Stacey and me and they didn’t like it one bit. Stacey had been their baby-sitter and my friend for a long time. They weren’t ready to give up on her.

  They were very confused.

  “What happened to all the times you guys told us you were friends for life? We believed you,” Vanessa said.

  Think fast, Claudia. How do you answer that one? Uh, sorry, but Stacey turned into a fink, so …

  “S-s-s-some best friends have fights,” I stammered. “Sometimes friends decide that they want to do different things. They need time apart. What used to be fun i
sn’t fun anymore and …”

  Was anyone listening? Not really.

  That was when Erica stepped in and rescued me.

  “You guys! What’s the problem? I’m just Erica the baby-sitting temp! I’m not here to replace anyone.”

  Claire sniffled. “You’re not?”

  “No. I’m just filling in for a short time while Stacey takes a break. She’ll be back. There’s absolutely nothing you should worry about.”

  The Pike kids seemed okay with Erica’s answer.

  “But when do you think you and Stacey will make up?” Vanessa asked me.

  I started to say that I didn’t know when.

  Then I started to say maybe someday in the near future.

  Then …

  I lost track of what I was saying.

  Sorry to break this to you, kids, but I will absolutely, under no circumstances, never, ever, ever be baby-sitting with Stacey McGill again, got it?

  They would die if they knew that.

  But in the bottom of my soul and in the pit of my stomach, I thought that was true.

  Even if I still missed Stacey more than ever before.

  Things I Have to Do Right Now:

  Finish centerpiece for dinner. (Add feathers to turkey if there’s time.)

  Try again to fix origami turkeys. (They look more like turtles. Should I put them at plates or not? Add them to centerpiece?)

  Go to cemetery to visit Mimi this week. (Sometimes around the holidays I go visit where she’s buried just to say hello and put some evergreen branches by her headstone.)

  So now it was Thanksgiving and I hadn’t spoken to Stacey (not a surprise) or Jeremy (a little bit of a surprise) in three whole days. After seeing Jeremy in the hall everywhere for an entire week, he seemed to have suddenly disappeared. My theory was that Stacey was staking out the halls, waiting until I was gone before she let him go to classes.

  I missed talking to him, in a friend kind of way.

  * * *

  I had made arrangements to go to Peaches’ early to watch the Macy’s parade with her, Molly, and Lynn (not that Lynn would actually watch, of course). When I got there, Molly answered the door.

  “You must be Claudia,” she exclaimed, and threw her arms around me and squeeeeeeezed. Then she called back to Peaches, “She’s here! And she’s just gorgeous!”

  Peaches came into the living room, toting Lynn in one arm and a diaper in her free hand.

  “So I see you’ve met Molly,” she said, winking at me.

  “Yup, she has! And she is just drop-dead, Miyoshi.” (Miyoshi is Peaches’ real name.)

  I felt my cheeks flush at all this flattery.

  “Happy Thanksgiving,” I said meekly.

  Peaches and Molly looked at each other and laughed. Then we sat on the sofa to watch the parade.

  We alternated between watching and talking about Molly’s adventures as photographer of the world. She has an awesome life. She’s seen everything. She’s done everything.

  “I was in this little town in Greece a month ago and I had the chance to photograph an exquisite wedding. It was on a cliff near the ocean and it was just breathtaking.”

  I smiled, but Peaches was frowning. Why?

  “That’s a far cry from photographing my ordinary Stoneybrook wedding, eh, Molly?” Peaches said.

  “What are you talking about, Miyoshi? You and Russ are perfect.”

  “Photos of our life in Stoneybrook are certainly no match for the ones you’ve taken in Greece and Sydney and St. Petersburg.”

  Molly reached for my aunt’s hand. “Where is this coming from?”

  “Oh, just ignore me. I’m tired, that’s all.”

  I suddenly let out a burst of laughter that cut through the tension.

  “Look at Clifford!” I shrieked. On the TV, the Clifford balloon had sprung a leak and its nose was deflating. “The Big Red Dog isn’t so big anymore. He’s shrinking.”

  Molly laughed too.

  “Hey, Miyoshi, do you remember that time in college when that professor — oh, what was his name — something like hammer or wrench or —”

  “Lugnut?”

  “That’s it! Lugnut! Remember him? With his big red nose and cheeks? And he was threatening to fail me in chemistry, so you went to his office to complain?”

  “You didn’t deserve to be failed.”

  “Yes I did. I stunk in chemistry! Claudia.” Molly turned to me. “Your aunt is the truest, bluest friend you would ever want to have. You don’t find many like her.”

  Now it was my aunt’s turn to blush.

  Lynn gurgled.

  “See?” Molly continued. “Even Lynn agrees.”

  I nodded. Of course I agreed too. I thought Peaches was the greatest aunt in the universe.

  “Molly, what else did you guys do at school?” I asked.

  Molly threw herself back on the couch. “Claudia, I could talk for hours! Don’t even get me started.”

  “She’s right,” Peaches said. “Don’t get her started. We’ll never get to dinner.”

  Russ called out from the other room, “Time to hit the road, folks! Time to face the turkey!”

  Peaches gathered up Lynn, turned to Molly, and said, “I’m sorry for what I was saying before. It’s just that —”

  Molly threw her arms around my aunt and said, “Enough. No explanations necessary.”

  They laughed and hugged, and we left for the Kishi Thanksgiving feast.

  On the ride to our house, Molly did most of the talking, reminiscing about old times again with Peaches.

  My mind was racing.

  I wondered where Stacey was on this day. In New York with her dad? Had she said so at a BSC meeting the week before? I couldn’t remember. The events of the last month were a blur to me.

  I couldn’t help feeling that Stacey and I were a lot like Molly and Peaches. At least we had been before Jeremy. I remembered Peaches’ story about Billy Bradford. My aunt and Molly hadn’t let a boy come between them. Maybe there was still hope for Stacey and me.

  But I doubted it. Stacey wouldn’t be coming over after dinner this year. We wouldn’t be swapping Thanksgiving stories. We wouldn’t be scoping out the post-Thanksgiving sales at Washington Mall.

  Not this year. And maybe not ever.

  “We’re heeeeeeeere!” Molly sang out as we walked into my house.

  My mom had met Molly a few times before. “Molly Bishop, you look great!”

  Everyone said their hellos and then we crashed in the living room in front of the television again. It was funny, because I hardly ever watch TV, but on Thanksgiving, between the parade and football, the TV is on all day long. Russ and Dad were placing bets (just for fun, not for money) on which team would win the afternoon game. Meanwhile, I was holding Lynn tightly in my arms. She had almost fallen asleep. I have that effect on babies, I guess.

  The dinner hour approached. When it came time to eat, we couldn’t sit down fast enough.

  “What a beautiful centerpiece!” Molly and Peaches declared.

  “And these place cards too. Claudia, these are wonderful,” Russ added.

  I was proud.

  Molly pulled out her camera with its different lenses and flashes. “Photo op!” She took a shot of the table and then turned her camera on me. “Smile, beautiful!”

  There were dishes crammed together on a small table at one side of the dining room. I drooled looking at them. There was hot squash, sage stuffing, whipped potatoes, whole-berry cranberry sauce, steaming green beans, and more. Peaches had even baked pumpkin muffins.

  “I think now would be a good time to say grace,” Dad said. “How about each of us saying something we’re grateful for.”

  Everyone agreed. Dad began.

  “On this Thanksgiving, I am thankful for my wonderful wife, my two daughters, and good friends and family.”

  Janine was next. “I’m grateful for everyone, of course … and for life in general.”

  Mom continued. “I am also thankfu
l for family. I am truly blessed. And I must admit that I am also thankful that the turkey isn’t dry.”

  Everyone chuckled. Mom turned to Russ.

  “Thankful is all I am. Especially today. For my big Peach and my littlest peach, Lynn. And my nieces.”

  I was starting to feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

  Molly spoke up next. “Well, I’m just plain lucky to be here, since my family is overseas and … well, being in Stoneybrook is just about the greatest gift I could hope for. You are all a joy. Thanks to all of you for reminding me about the importance of home.”

  Lynn, in her high chair, gurgled. I think even she was thankful.

  Peaches spoke next and got all choked up. She talked about how lucky she was — that lately she had been feeling kind of sad but that those closest to her reminded her she was actually very fortunate.

  She winked at me when she said that. Then she blew a kiss to Molly, who smiled.

  They looked so happy to be with each other. Even after my aunt’s nervousness these two pals really did seem to be there for each other no matter what.

  Russ grabbed Peaches and squeezed.

  And then it was my turn. “Thank you for this food,” I began, sounding as if I were praying. “Thank you for a niece like Lynn. Thanks for a sister like Janine — even when we fight.”

  I included everyone in the room. And in my mind, I was silently giving thanks for each of my friends. For my newest friend, Erica.

  And for my old friend, Stacey, traitor or not.

  “You never go shopping just for fun?” I asked. I couldn’t believe it.

  Erica and I were taking a walk through downtown Stoneybrook. She and I had talked for a few minutes after the guests had left on Thanksgiving. She wanted to hang out on Friday, but I could tell by the sound of her voice that she wasn’t eager to go shopping again.

  But we had to go shopping! Everybody goes shopping the day after Thanksgiving.

  “Well, we could meet downtown instead of at the mall. It’ll be less crowded. Please?” I had said.

  After eleven “pleases,” Erica finally agreed. We’d meet at eleven o’clock the next day. I was determined to make a post-Thanksgiving shopping spree happen with or without Stacey.

  I’d even made a list:

  Shopping with Erica