by Cari Simmons
“Spoiler alert,” Alice said, frowning. “Now I think I know how Animal Farm is going to end.”
“Yeah,” said Nikki. “If I were an animal, I’d rather live with Old MacDonald, personally.”
“For real,” said Alice. “Now, if I can just remember what on earth a mitochondria does, I might do okay in biology too.”
“I have a weird way of remembering that,” said Nikki. “Mitochondria help with cellular respiration. You know, like breathing. So I think, I might breathe today: mitochondria!” Alice laughed. She felt so tempted to ask Nikki why she wasn’t this funny and silly and helpful in class, but she decided to keep it to herself. For now.
Nikki’s mom emerged again from her office. “Alice, don’t you have to get home to your parents?” She frowned. “It’s nearly six p.m. Don’t you think they’ll be worried about you?”
“Mom.” Nikki sighed.
“It’s okay,” Alice said. “I should go. But no, I don’t think they’d be worried—I mean, I don’t live that far away, and I said I’d be home for dinner by six fifteen.”
Dr. Wilcox smiled but looked pointedly at Nikki, who sighed again. “Come on, Alice,” she said. “I’ll walk you downstairs.”
“Bye, Alice!” Nikki’s mom said. “I hope you come by again soon.”
The girls left and began their way down the hall stairs. “Sorry about that,” Nikki whispered. “My mom can be so uptight.”
“It’s okay,” said Alice. “I mean, I should get going anyway.”
“I think they just assume your parents are as crazy as they are. They’re pretty overprotective since they don’t know where I am all the time,” Nikki explained. “If I’m not home from ballet by six, they have one of the neighbors call them at work so they can start freaking out. Which stinks, because I know everyone hangs out after class, but if I don’t go right away, I’ll get in big trouble.”
That explains a lot, thought Alice. “What about when you just want to go over to your friends’ houses?” she asked. “Are they okay with that?”
“Oh, um,” Nikki said as she rubbed at a chip in the wooden banister. “I don’t really have any friends—nearby anyway. So I guess that makes things easier on my parents.”
“Oh,” Alice said. She felt sorry for Nikki but didn’t want to say so.
“I mean,” Nikki said hastily as she and Alice stepped out of the lobby onto the sidewalk. “I don’t want you to throw me a pity party. It’s just something I’m used to.”
“But why?” asked Alice. She could understand if Nikki were still new, but she was on the North Shore to stay, and by and large, everyone in their grade seemed pretty nice.
“Oh, look!” said Nikki. A man with a tiny white dog approached them on the street. “It’s Muffin! Hi, Muffin!”
“Hi, Nikki!” said Muffin’s owner.
Nikki crouched down to pet Muffin and give him a few of the treats from her pocket. “Doesn’t it seem like if you had a dog, you’d always have someone who would be there for you when you’re sad?” Nikki said to Alice. “But I can’t get one because my parents don’t think I’m up to taking care of one—and they definitely don’t want to.”
After Muffin and his owner moved on, she looked at her feet. “And the reason I don’t have a lot of friends? Well. I don’t know. I think it’s the moving thing. Because of my parents’ jobs, I’ve lived in four different cities so far. And it really stunk to make friends with someone and then move on. I guess I figured with the last couple of moves that it’s easier not to make friends than to make friends and leave right away.”
“But you’re here now, right?” asked Alice. “You said so yourself. You’re not going anywhere for a while. So maybe it’s okay to get to know people.”
“Maybe,” said Nikki, and smiled.
Alice got home that night feeling unusual, but not in a bad way—it had seemed, for the last few months, she’d had only two settings: Cassidy Time or School Time, and now she had found a new, unnamed state of being. She’d gone out and actually spent time with someone from school, but she didn’t feel freaked out about being behind on her work either. Not to mention that it seemed within the realm of possibility that Nikki Wilcox was not only a functional member of society but also, it seemed, secretly a nice, funny girl hidden beneath some defensive walls. Would wonders never cease?
Upstairs, in her room after dinner, Alice was just getting into the homework zone when she heard a ping from her computer. She looked up from her bed, where she was reading (above the covers—she’d learned her lesson).
NKWLCX: Hey! That was fun! Can we do it again soon?
Alice’s instant messenger must have automatically turned on when she powered up the computer. She didn’t even have time to get to her desk and respond until she heard several more pings.
NKWLCX: This is Alice, right? I got your IM from the school directory.
NKWLCX: If this is not Alice, I apologize for being weird.
Alice laughed to herself and sat down in her desk chair.
AISFORALICE: Hey! It is me. You are kind of weird but not TOO weird. ☺
NKWLCX: Ha! What are you up to?
AISFORALICE: Actually, I’m doing hw. Sorry, I didn’t mean to turn on my IM. I probably shouldn’t be chatting right now. But yes, I would like to hang out again soon!
NKWLCX: Ah. Sorry to bother you! ☺
NKWLCX: I was just psyched to see you online. My buddy list is short. ☺
Alice cringed a little bit. She didn’t quite know how to process this information. Nikki actually seemed pretty well adjusted for someone who freely admitted that she didn’t have a lot of friends, but at the same time, Alice didn’t know that she’d talk about it so much if it were her.
Alice sat back in her chair and pondered how lucky she was to have parents who were so relaxed (at least in comparison), to have Cassidy as her best friend (even if they weren’t seeing each other as much as usual), and even to have the Nerd Herd. She didn’t have as much to complain about as she thought she did. She had an idea.
AISFORALICE: Tell you what. Later this week, let’s do another study session, but this time on MY turf. I’m taking you to Walker Bros. so we can have some REAL brain food.
NKWLCX: What’s Walker Bros.? Either way, I’m in!
AISFORALICE: It’s basically the happiest place on earth.
NKWLCX: That sounds *pretty* good. See you tomorrow!
Alice signed off and let herself spend a moment fantasizing about Walker Bros., a breakfast spot that she and Cassidy had been going to since they were little. There, the air smelled like syrup and coffee, busboys in white hats bustled about, and the wooden tables were all comfortingly sticky and cozy. She smiled to herself, thinking about how each and every time they went, both she and Cassidy agonized over what to order, but they always got the same thing: chocolate chip pancakes for Alice, strawberry waffle for Cassidy.
Time to get to work. Alice dumped her backpack onto her floor. She felt guilty as the notebook called out to her—Hey, remember me? Alice felt a pang that she hadn’t written in it, and almost that she was keeping a secret from Cassidy, because she could write so much about Nikki, her parents, her dog obsession, her loneliness. Cassidy would die! But the notebook stayed closed.
After about an hour of homework, Alice heard a knock on her door.
“Hey, kid,” her dad said. “Want to go nuts and go get some ice cream? It’s nice out, and your mom and I are feeling wild and crazy.”
“Sure!” Alice said, glad that she had gotten her work over with. The Kinneys walked the three blocks to the ice cream parlor, discussing along the way what type of ice cream they’d get so as to optimize maximum tasting ability. (They decided on pralines and cream for Alice’s mom, rocky road for Alice’s dad, and mint chip for Alice.)
“Hey, isn’t that Cassidy?” Mrs. Kinney asked as they entered Sweet Treats. Alice brightened: this was going to turn out to be an extra-fun night after all. Until she saw that Cassidy was sitting at a ta
ble not with her family, but with Evie, Xia, April, and a few other girls Alice recognized from the musical.
“Uh, hi!” Alice said, approaching their table. She wasn’t sure if she was interrupting something, or not.
“Hi!” Cassidy said. She glanced quickly at the other girls, almost guiltily. They all smiled and said hi to Alice, friendly as could be. So why did she feel like the odd girl out?
“Um, so . . . ,” Alice said. She couldn’t think of a question that didn’t sound idiotic (“Having some ice cream?”) or passive-aggressive (“Having a good time without me?”).
“We were just meeting up to brainstorm costume ideas for the musical,” Cassidy explained hastily. “We’re in charge of our own wardrobe and we wanted to make sure we looked cute—coordinated, but not too . . .”
“. . . matchy-matchy?” Alice filled in, remembering their plans for their first day of school.
“Kind of,” said Cassidy. “Anyway. Do you want to . . .” She gestured to the table, where there were no free seats anyway.
“No, that’s fine, thanks,” Alice said. “I’m here with my, um . . .” She leaned her head towards her parents, because saying “I’m here with my parents” sounded too lame.
“Okay!” Cassidy said. “Well . . . catch you tomorrow?”
“Sure,” said Alice. “Catch you tomorrow.” The girls smiled awkwardly and Alice got in line with her parents, even though she had kind of lost her appetite for ice cream.
“Everything okay?” Alice’s dad said as they walked home. She didn’t even complain when he took his usual way-too-big bite of her ice cream.
“Sure,” Alice said. “Cassidy and those girls are just working on the musical.”
“That’s fun!” Alice’s mom said brightly, and Alice could only agree. There wasn’t anything wrong with Cassidy working on the musical with the kids in it—Alice wasn’t in it, after all, so why should she be involved with an ice-cream meeting about wardrobe?
It’s fine. Alice shrugged to herself. Until the musical is over, Cassidy is doing her thing, and I guess I’m doing mine. There’s nothing wrong with that . . . right?
CHAPTER 12
WORLDS COLLIDE?
Alice and Nikki were making their way to the front of the quick-moving line at the Walker Bros. entrance, and Alice could already hear the clink of heavy white plates and mugs, the ching of the cash register up front. They’d successfully made it through the Animal Farm section of Mr. Nichols’s class, each getting a “goodish” grade on the paper (they agreed not to reveal to each other what grades they got on their work, an idea of Nikki’s that surprised Alice, who would have taken her for a more competitive person), and decided the end of the week was a good time to celebrate.
Plus, they could work some more on their math problems: Nikki had been informed she’d be a starter on the math meet coming up. She wasn’t exactly excited about it, but she was excited about the idea of pancakes after school.
“I can’t believe you haven’t been here before,” Alice said again.
“Why would I make that up?” Nikki asked, grinning. “I could come up with much more interesting lies than that.”
“Prove it.”
“Um. Let’s see. I’m not actually a student at Lakeside Middle School. I’m a spy, sent there by the government. I am actually forty years old but just look really young. And not only have I been to Walker Bros. before, I own it! Welcome to my restaurant. I’m one of four brothers named Walker. I’m Walker Number Three.”
Alice laughed. “But where do your parents take you for pancakes on the weekends?”
Nikki shrugged. “What can I say? You’ve met my parents. They don’t get out much. And you’ve seen our kitchen; they don’t exactly prioritize delicious food. If I’m lucky, I get a frozen waffle—and if it’s an extraspecial day, my mom will even put it in the toaster for me.”
“Well, you’re in for a treat,” Alice said over her shoulder, after a no-nonsense hostess signaled to the girls that she had room for two and waved them on. They settled into a tiny wooden booth that was just big enough for the both of them. One of the busboys set down some sweating glasses of water and moved on in a flash.
“Whoa,” said Nikki, her eyes widening at the menu. “I’m going to need an hour to look this over. Where are the flabby celery sticks and dried-up oranges?”
“I think they only serve those on special occasions,” Alice said.
“You girls ready?” asked a tired-looking waitress who looked like she didn’t have a lot of time for dillydallying.
“Um,” said Nikki.
“If you get the chocolate chippies, you can’t go wrong,” said Alice.
“Done,” Nikki said.
“I’ll have the apple pancake,” Alice said. She decided today was a good day to try something new. Besides, she’d seen enough apple pancakes go by to know that they were basically glorified apple pies, and what could go wrong with that? “And a small orange juice.”
“What if . . . ,” Nikki said, scrunching her dark eyebrows together. “What if I got a hot chocolate . . . and chocolate chip pancakes?”
The waitress waited, her pencil in the air.
“Do it!” Alice grinned.
“It’s crazy!” Nikki said. “My parents would die if they knew I was eating so much sugar!”
“I’m pretty sure hot chocolate is the only thing that goes with chocolate chip pancakes,” Alice said. After being the nerd in her friendship with Cass, being the one who had to go home and do homework and who had too much stage fright to perform in public, it was fun to feel like the crazier, more outgoing one.
Nikki nodded. “Okay. That’s what I’ll have. But I’m holding you accountable if things get weird.” She waggled her eyebrows.
“Rebels,” the waitress muttered, and rolled her eyes while she scribbled a little bit. Alice didn’t feel too bad about the breakfast indulgence, though. Walker Bros. was the place to pack it away. She once saw four football players from the high school order ten orders of Belgian waffles with strawberries and whipped cream—and eat them all, then ask for a follow-up side of bacon.
“So,” Nikki said, and began to shred the edge of her white paper napkin. “I wanted to let you know—no pressure—that the date of our first big math meet of the season is in a few weeks. And—I know, math meet, ugh!—but if you were, like, bored or something, if you wanted to come, that would be cool. Since you’ve been so helpful so far with the formulas and stuff.” She then blushed pink and pushed a packet of sweetener around the table with her finger like it was a toy car.
Alice was charmed by how bashful Nikki seemed to be. Are we friends now? she wondered. Sure, why not. “No problem!” Alice said. “I’ll have to check with my parents, but I think I can be there.”
“Okay!” Nikki said. “It’s November tenth.”
Something about the date sounded familiar to Alice, but she forgot about it once the drinks came. The orange juice at Walker Bros. was sweet and bright and came in the perfect-size glass, not too big but not too small. But nobody seemed as happy as Nikki did with her hot chocolate, which came topped with a mountain of whipped cream.
“Ooh,” she said. “I’m almost sad to eat it. It’s so beautiful.” She dipped a spoon into the mug to get a bit of the drink topped with a bit of the cream.
“Ooh!” she said again when a busboy showed up with the girls’ order. Nikki’s pancakes were dotted with melty chocolate chips and topped with even more whipped cream, while Alice’s pancake was the size and shape of a deep-dish pizza, except one that was filled with sticky caramelized apples.
“Welcome to Walker Bros.,” Alice said, and they dug in.
The girls ate, in heaven, for as long as they could before they sat back against their seats, too full to continue.
“I want to keep eating, but I’m afraid of what will happen,” moaned Nikki.
“Why don’t we work on some of the math stuff and take a break,” suggested Alice. “Maybe we’ll get a secon
d wind after a few problems.”
“The sugar will give us an energy boost!” Nikki giggled. The two pushed their plates to the side and squeezed their notebooks and textbooks onto the table. They measured angles for a little while.
“You know what would not be the worst idea in the world?” Alice said. “If two brains are better than one, maybe even more brains would be great. What if we got some other Nerd Herders together sometime? We could meet at my house and go over math and reading for Mr. Nichols’s class and biology. Who knows what other cool tricks and ideas everyone else has?”
“Sure,” Nikki said, but her brow was furrowed. “I mean, do you think people would be okay if I was there too?”
Alice smiled and rolled her eyes. “We’re one big Herd, aren’t we?” she asked. “I promise you, it’ll be fun. Well, if not fun, anyway, interesting. Maybe not interesting, actually—useful? If not useful . . . at least we have an excuse to eat snacks and drink pop?”
“All right, I’m sold!” said Nikki. She then tilted her head. “Hey, do you hear that?”
Alice lifted her head. Above the general din of the other diners, the noise from the kitchen and the checkout line up front, she did hear something, a different, organized type of sound. It was . . . singing.
“What is that?” Nikki asked, looking more curious than annoyed. Some of the other diners around them seemed irritated.
“That sounds familiar,” Alice said.
“Maybe it’s a party or something!” Nikki said. “I’m going to go check it out.”
“Okay,” Alice said. She was considering taking another stab at her apple pancake when it hit her. The song was “Don’t Stop Believin’,” and the people singing were Cassidy and the other kids from the musical.
For the second time in a week, I’m going to look like a loser in front of all them for not being part of the show, Alice thought glumly. But then another, more urgent thought came to her: Cassidy still doesn’t know that Nikki and I have been hanging out! She looked up in a panic to see Nikki just steps away from Cassidy’s table.