by Cynthia Lord
Listening to Jack say things about me in such a big way felt weird. Like hearing about someone else, even though I did like to kayak and climb mountains.
But so what? The other kids didn’t seem to be taking this assignment so seriously. And I had to start somewhere. The only way the other kids would ever get to know me was if I shared things about myself.
It might work out perfectly, too. I imagined one of the girls in my class hearing Jack talk about me and then seeing Lapi. Wow! she’d think. Emma is so interesting! She’d ask if she could pat Lapi. I’d say, “Sure!” and then we’d talk. I was pretty confident that I could take it from there on my own. It was just so hard to get started.
Even though this felt weird and uncomfortable, it would all be worth it if I found a best friend.
“And the varsity team is almost all juniors and seniors, so it’s unbelievable that I made it,” Owen said that night at supper. “Coach says I won’t start, but that’s okay. Just being on the team will be enough.”
Enough to make you busy every afternoon. I swirled a piece of spaghetti on my plate with my fork.
“Yes, that’s amazing!” Mom smiled at me. “And Emma had a friend over today.”
“Hey, that’s great!” Owen said.
The happy way he said it annoyed me, like now all my problems were over. And I knew he knew better. “Jack was the only one who could come,” I said flatly. “When you’re done, can you take a photo of me kayaking with your phone? I need it for school.”
“Do we actually have to go out on the water? Could you just be sitting in your kayak?” Owen asked. “I have some homework.”
“No. That would look ridiculous.” No one would want to go kayaking with me on the grass! I looked down at my plate. “Please? We don’t have to go far.”
“Okay.” As soon he finished supper, Owen got the paddles and I got the life jackets. When you’re the warden’s kids, you always have to follow the rules. It’s not that I ever wanted to get into trouble, but I knew there’d be extra disappointment if I did.
Looking out across the lake, I saw we had it almost to ourselves, with just one canoe gliding along the far shore. Most of the summer people had already gone home, closing up their camps and pulling their docks out of the water. It was so quiet that I could hear a woodpecker drumming on a tree across the lake.
I threw my flip-flops into the bottom of the kayak. Holding my paddle across the front, I climbed in.
“Take my phone while I push you off,” Owen said.
I tucked his phone into my pocket. I love that moment when Owen gives me a shove out past the drop-off and suddenly it’s just water under my kayak. I think it must be close to what a bird feels when it lifts off and flies. A quick burst, and then you leave the ground behind you. It’s a free feeling, with nothing holding you back.
“Where do you want to take the photo?” Owen asked, paddling up beside me.
“I want Eagle Island behind me.” On maps, it has a different name, but Owen and I named it for the big eagle’s nest in a tall pine tree at the tip. When the eagles were nesting or had eaglets, we weren’t allowed on the island, but the juveniles had flown off weeks ago. We still saw them in the treetops around the lake from time to time, but they were on their own now.
Kayaking to Eagle Island would take a little time, too. Time that I didn’t have to share Owen with anyone.
The lake was almost flat, just a breeze wrinkling the surface. As I paddled, I cut a path through the ripples. A little kingfisher cackled at us, flying low over the waves. He landed on a dead branch that stretched over the water. As we caught up to him, he flew off again, complaining.
Owen was digging his paddle so hard that my arms were getting sore trying to keep up with him. The breeze kept blowing my hair across my nose, and it itched every time. Finally I gave up and let him get ahead.
I took his phone from my pocket and shot a photo of him kayaking away from me.
Approaching the island, I looked at the empty nest, a big mess of sticks waiting for next year. When the eagles nested again in late winter, the lake would probably still be a huge field of ice.
It’s hard to imagine winter in other seasons, but it’s a different world out here. Light reflects on the ice, and the wind blows strong because there’s nothing on the lake to slow it down. It roars against my bedroom windows and whispers through the tiny spaces around the back door. The wind also sweeps the ice clean, so clear and smooth that ice skates fly over it.
Owen and I barely went skating at all last year. I missed shouting and hearing our voices echo out in the middle. I missed how Mom would put the outside light on to tell us when it was time to come back. If we were skating way out in the middle, the light was small, a tiny dot of yellow in the darkening air.
Maybe Owen and I’d go skating this winter. Soccer would be over by then. Or maybe he’d sign up for something else at school that he’d do without me.
But at least now I had Lapi at home to keep me from feeling lonely. If things didn’t get better at school, I wondered how long Mom would make me wait before I could go back to homeschooling. Surely before winter came.
I didn’t like to quit anything, but sometimes things just don’t work out and it’s better to admit it and try something else. I imagined Ms. Martel spinning her finger: “Move on.”
“Okay, give me my phone,” Owen said. “Then paddle ahead so the island will be in the background.”
As he shot photos, I smiled, trying to look fun and outdoorsy.
“I’ll email those to you,” Owen said. I thought he’d start for home, but he kayaked past me to the island.
As I beached my kayak next to his, Owen picked up a small rock and threw it. “Beat that.”
I picked up a rock and threw it as hard as I could. It didn’t go as far as his, so I tried again.
We threw rocks over and over, watching the ripples speeding outward and connecting with each other. I threw with my whole arm each time, but I still couldn’t beat his.
“We should head home,” Owen said finally.
I reached down and picked up one last stone. I slipped it into my pocket.
“What will you write on it?” he asked.
“Hope,” I said.
“I can’t believe you don’t already have that one,” Owen said, picking up another rock.
“I’ve always had hope. I didn’t need a rock to give me extra.” I sighed. “Do you ever wish you could go backward?”
“Not usually,” Owen said. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t miss some things.”
I couldn’t look at him. I wondered if I was one of those things, but I was too afraid of the answer.
“If I could go back,” I said, “I’d go back to a day when you and I were at Pépère and Mémère’s house. I miss those days a lot.”
Owen nodded. “Me, too. I don’t think I’d want to go backward for good, though. I’d miss some ‘now’ things.”
“But you wouldn’t know about the ‘now’ things because they wouldn’t have happened yet,” I said.
Owen looked at me. “Is school really going so terribly that you want to go backward?”
I lifted one shoulder. “Well, no one has bullied me or pushed me into a locker, or any of the other mean things kids do to each other on TV shows. Mostly kids just ignore me.” I looked down at my feet. “It’s harder to be different than I thought it would be, though. You’d think with all those kids, it’d be easy to make friends, but it isn’t. It seems like most kids already have enough friends, and they aren’t looking for any more.”
“It might look that way,” Owen said. “But everyone wants friends. Remember that, okay?”
“Okay,” I said, though it didn’t seem true. “I do have a plan that might help. I’m going to ask Dad if he’ll bring Lapi to school as part of my group project. I bet the kids will like him and I’ll be the girl with the adorable rabbit, not just the new kid with red hair.”
Owen smiled. “I hope Lapi brings some
rabbit magic with him, like Pépère used to say.”
He remembered.
I nodded. “Me, too.”
“Pépère would have a story about Monsieur Lapin going to school,” Owen said. “Monsieur Lapin would sneak into the cafeteria and raid the salad bar. The lunch ladies would go to serve lunch and find the lettuce bin empty.”
I laughed. “And no carrots or blueberries!”
“I’m glad Dad let you keep Lapi,” Owen said. “Though I knew the second I saw him that if the shelter didn’t know where he belonged, he’d be coming back home with us.” He grinned. “It’s hard to say no to you when you really want something, Em. Dad didn’t stand a chance.”
I grinned back. “That’s because Lapi belongs with us.”
Owen picked up his paddle. “We should get back now, though. It’s getting dark and I really do have homework. Did you want me to push you off?”
“Okay.”
Paddling toward home, the sun was setting, reflecting in our upstairs windows. I aimed the bow of my kayak at the beach in front of our house and beat Owen home.
That night before I went to bed, I found Owen’s rock on my pillow.
Rabbit Magic.
First thing the next day, I told Leah and Iris my idea. They had shot down my other ideas, but this time, I had Jack on my side. “Jack and I filmed our statements about each other, but we decided to do our own reveals in person. It’ll be more interesting for the audience.”
“I don’t like to talk in front of the class,” Iris said, unpacking her backpack.
I put my hands on my hips, ready to argue.
But Leah said, “I like Emma’s idea. She’s right, that’ll be more interesting, and if we’re holding something for the reveals, it’s not as hard as just standing there.”
Iris shook her head. “Let’s just—”
“Take a vote!” Jack said.
The vote was three to one to do the reveals in person.
Iris didn’t look happy, but I didn’t worry about it too much. We had done everything her way up until then. “Jack and I changed some of our statements, too.”
“The frogs were a homeschool experiment,” Jack added.
My smile froze. “Um, I was homeschooled,” I blurted out, hoping Leah and Iris didn’t hear exactly what he’d said. “My new truths are that I climbed Mount Katahdin and I like kayaking.”
“With Owen,” Jack said. “Though he’s busy now.”
“Homeschooled? Do you mean you’ve never been to school?” Iris asked.
The words weren’t mean, but the way she said it sounded like I didn’t know anything.
“I did my schoolwork at home,” I started to say, but I was relieved to see Ms. Martel coming over just then. “Jack came to my house yesterday,” I told her quickly, to put distance between me and the homeschool subject. “He met my rabbit.”
“I touched him,” Jack said. “Only on his back.”
Ms. Martel’s eyebrows went up. “You did, Jack? That’s great! How did the rabbit feel?”
“Happy,” Jack replied.
Ms. Martel opened her mouth like maybe she was expecting him to say “soft,” but then she smiled. “And how did you feel?”
“Scared,” Jack said.
“And you touched him anyway?” Ms. Martel asked. “Good for you, Jack.”
“I think it’s cool that you were homeschooled,” Leah said to me.
She does? I smiled. “Thanks!”
“Do you want to sit with us at lunch today?” Leah asked. “Nora has book club, so there’s an empty spot at our table.”
Jack looked at me. “You won’t get away this time, Monsieur Lapin!” he said in his Elmer Fudd voice. “You wascally—”
Please stop talking, Jack. It makes you stand out and not in a good way. “Sure! I’d like that,” I said loudly.
I was in over my head. Jack and I had fun when it was just us, but it was harder to be his friend in a group. While homeschooling, I mostly saw friends one or two at a time, so I could always adapt and meet them in the middle between us. Here, that middle seemed to be constantly changing and sometimes disappeared altogether. And I’d never tried to be friends with kids who weren’t friends with each other before.
Leah rolled her eyes sympathetically at me.
Right there I knew I had to choose. I liked Jack and I wanted to be friends with him. But I really wanted to be friends with some girls, too. And this was my first real chance.
I rolled my eyes, too.
For the first time since school started, I was excited for lunch. I had a place to go, a seat waiting for me at a table with other fifth grade girls.
It’d only be for today since I was just a substitute for Nora. But maybe I could be a regular on Nora’s book club day.
When I reached the table, all the chairs were full except one with a spiral notebook that said “Elise” across the top.
As Elise moved the book for me, I felt like I was floating inside.
“Hi!” I grinned and sat down.
They all looked nice. Everyone said their names, but I was concentrating so hard on looking friendly that when they were done, I didn’t remember a single one, except Leah, Iris, and Elise.
“Emma has never been to school before,” Iris said. “She was homeschooled.”
I sighed. Did that have to be the first thing the other girls knew about me?
“So what do you think of public school?” a black-haired girl asked.
“Parts of it are fun,” I said. “But it’s too long.”
They all laughed. “You can say that again!” the black-haired girl said. “I’m ready for another vacation!”
I gave her a real smile. It felt good that I had made them laugh, even if it had been by accident.
“I’d hate being homeschooled,” the girl with the pigtails said. “I’d be so bored being at home all day with nothing to do.”
I opened my mouth to say I hadn’t been bored, but everyone else was nodding. When they got to know me better, it’d be easier to tell them the truth. For now, it seemed more important to fit in. “I wanted to give public school a try and see if I liked it.”
“You should join chorus!” the girl with the pigtails said. “That’s super fun! We even go to a concert in Boston every year!”
I grinned. That did sound like fun.
“Do you play sports?” Elise asked.
I nodded. “But I haven’t had many chances to be on a team. I really like—”
“Time for lunch,” I heard behind me.
Uh-oh. I thought Jack understood I was having lunch with Leah’s group today.
“Hey, Jack,” I said. “I’m sitting here today. Okay?”
“Yes,” he said.
As soon as he was too far away to hear, Leah said, “I’m sorry you got Jack as a partner for our presentation. He can be hard to talk to.”
I couldn’t tell if she was saying it to be mean or just stating a fact. “Unless it’s about animals,” I agreed, unwrapping my sandwich.
That wasn’t mean. It was just the truth, right?
“He’s why Ms. Martel comes to our room,” Leah explained. “She acts like she’s there to help out with everyone, but really, she’s Jack’s aide. When he was little, he used to throw tantrums. Remember?” She raised her eyebrows to the other girls.
“Wild tantrums!” Elise agreed. “And be careful what you tell him. He doesn’t always get that some things are private.”
Iris groaned. “Remember last year, Akari?”
The black-haired girl rolled her eyes. “He told Mrs. Keller about the surprise party we were throwing for her, even though we told him not to!”
Elise. Akari. I willed myself to remember the names until I could write them down in the back of my assignment notebook.
“She caught us making some decorations,” Akari said. “She asked what they were for. And he just told her the truth!”
“I’m glad he’s not in my class this year,” Elise said.
I tried to concentrate on my sandwich, but I was squirming inside. It didn’t feel good talking about Jack, even if everything they said sounded true.
I felt lucky the other girls didn’t know the mistakes I’d made when I was younger, too. Like the time I locked my whole family out of our house and it was snowing. We had to wait in the barn until a locksmith came. Or the time I accidentally ate some dog biscuits because they were in a plain plastic bag and looked like crackers.
Friends can tease you over dumb things like that and it’s funny. But if you’re not friends, it hurts.
Maybe if these girls knew those things about me and a bunch more, they wouldn’t want to be my friends, either.
I wished I hadn’t rolled my eyes about Jack with Leah.
Leah took a bite of her sandwich. “Ugh! I told Mom to ask for no pickles! I don’t know why she can’t remember that I don’t like them.” She smiled at me.
Oh no! I fought to keep smiling as Leah plucked pickles out of her sandwich and put them on her napkin. “You can have them, Emma.”
I wanted to say “Thanks,” because it was a friendly thing that she was sharing something with me, but—“That’s okay. Really.”
“It’s no problem,” she said. “I don’t like them.”
Six pickle slices. “Oh, yum,” I said, trying to sound excited as she slid the napkin to me. “Would anyone else like some? I don’t want to hog them.”
“I don’t like pickles,” Iris said.
“No thanks,” Akari said.
Leah was still smiling at me, so I took a nibble off the edge of the first pickle. I wanted to make a horrible face, but I forced myself to nod. “Mmm.” I took another tiny bite and moved the pickle piece way over to one side of my mouth, away from my tongue.
“I think my family is going to the movies on Saturday,” Iris said. “If we do go, do you want to come, Leah?”
Leah sighed. “I wish! But we’re going to New Hampshire to see my grandparents. It’s so boring. It’s a really long ride and then we just sit in their living room and talk. Or actually mostly I listen to the adults talk. I just nod and say ‘uh-huh’ every now and then.”