by Sally Warner
Skye wasn’t exactly sure what a hard-nose was, though she had a pretty good idea. “But you swiped my sketchbook back,” she said slowly. “Why?”
Kee shrugged again, then looked away. “I felt sorry for you, I guess,” he said quietly. “With your brother so messed up and everything. Also, I didn’t want them to ruin any of your drawings. Not that Aaron’s exactly going to understand my thinking.”
“Well, thanks,” Skye said, wishing she could stop the blush that was spreading up her neck and across her face. “But you don’t have to feel sorry for me, Kee, ’cause my brother’s – “
“He’s gonna be okay?” Kee asked, sounding hopeful.
“I don’t know,” Skye admitted, her voice soft. “He’ll be something like okay, I think. Eventually. But – I’d do it again, you know,” she told him suddenly. “If I had to.”
“Do what?”
“Fight back,” Skye said. “’Specially if Aaron or Cord ever, ever touch Maddy again, or if Melissa and Taylor don’t start laying off Amanda and the rest of us girls. I’ve got some pretty good drawings of them I could use, you know.”
“I know,” Kee said, smiling a little. “They saw them. We all saw them.”
“And I could always make more,” Skye said, feeling a little foolish, but glad to have said what she did.
“Tough guy,” Kee teased.
“Excuse me, you two,” Gran said, poking her head into the living room. “But would you like some delicious soda and chips? Even though it’s still morning?”
I love you, Skye thought, touched by Gran’s struggle to please her.
“Sure,” Kee said, obviously relieved at the interruption.
“I’ll be right back,” Gran said, beaming, and she disappeared into the kitchen to get their snack.
“You’re gonna really feel sorry for me when you taste those chips,” Skye whispered, daring a smile.
“Huh?” Kee said.
“You’ll find out,” Skye told him.
21
Real, True Friends
Now that she had her sketchbook back, Skye wanted to cancel the afternoon get-together – but Gran wouldn’t hear of it. “Out of the question, Skye,” she said firmly. “You cannot un-invite your friends to a party at the last minute, short of being abducted by aliens,” she added, pausing to inspect a carrot she’d been peeling for the vegetable platter that was to be the star of the snack table.
“But this wasn’t even supposed to be a party,” Skye pointed out. “It was supposed to be kind of like a meeting. You know, just so I could warn everyone about the rest of the drawings in my sketchbook. I was afraid they’d end up plastered all over the walls at school, at the very least. But everything’s okay now, Gran.”
“One more hour,” Gran said, glancing at her watch.
“But – but I’m still too new in Sierra Madre to give a party,” Skye objected.
“You’re too new to have friends?” Gran asked, cocking her curly brown head in inquiry. “Because if those five kids who jumped at the chance to come over this afternoon aren’t friends, then what are they?”
“They didn’t exactly jump,” Skye argued feebly. “Not all of them, anyway. I had to promise Maddy that she wouldn’t miss some TV show about meerkats. But–”
“But nothing,” Gran said briskly, expertly chopping the carrot into neat sticks. “As I recall, you didn’t have to argue with any one of them. And even though this sketchbook situation isn’t going to get any worse, I think you still owe those kids an explanation about the drawings you did of them that got put up at the dance.”
“I guess,” Skye mumbled.
“Maybe you even owe your friends an apology,” Gran suggested.
“They aren’t officially my friends,” Skye objected, hearing how lame her objection sounded even as she stated it. “And I never meant for anyone to see any of the drawings,” she added, defending herself – and practicing a little for the speech she’d apparently still have to give that afternoon. “Not to mention that Maddy and Jamila weren’t even at the dance,” she pointed out. “So won’t I just be stirring up trouble if I tell them–”
“You know Maddy and Jamila will hear about it eventually,” Gran interrupted. “And those kids are your new friends, Skye, whether you want to admit it or not. I thought you were getting used to living with me here in Sierra Madre, sweetheart,” she added, her voice softening. “I hoped you were, anyway. I certainly love having you here.”
“I am getting used to it,” Skye mumbled. “Too used to it, maybe! Because this is only temporary, and sooner or later, I have to go back.”
It wasn’t “back home” anymore, Skye noted, surprised–just “back.”
“Not necessarily,” Gran said carefully, turning to wash a green pepper under cool running water. “This whole situation isn’t only about Scotty, Skye. Everyone – including your mom and your dad – wants what’s best for you. We want you never to feel trapped. And you do have a say in the matter.”
“Really?” Skye asked.
“Really.”
“Well, one thing I have to say,” Skye said suddenly, “is that I wouldn’t put that green pepper on the platter if I were you, Gran – or Maddy will freak, and that’s all we need to make it a perfect afternoon.”
“Oh, my gosh, you’re right!” Gran said, smacking her head with the plump palm of her hand. “Now, that would have been a disaster.”
“A little one, anyway,” Skye said, laughing.
“And we’ve had enough of the other kind, haven’t we?” Gran said, reeling Skye in for a hug.
“And so I just wanted to say that I’m sorry if anyone was embarrassed Friday night by those drawings, or if your feelings got hurt,” Skye told Amanda, Matteo, Jamila, Pip, and a confused-looking Maddy an hour later. “I didn’t mean anything bad when I did them, and anyway, they were supposed to be private.”
Amanda scowled. “But I don’t get it,” she said. “Why did you even draw us that way? I thought you liked us! And you made me look like a – “
“I do like you,” Skye interrupted hastily. “I mostly drew those pictures when I first got here, and I didn’t even know you guys. Not really. And I was feeling really bad about – about everything, so I kind of took it out on you. You’re not the only one with a dark inner life, you know,” she told Amanda, hoping she would remember the time she’d proudly claimed that for herself.
“Sorry about your brother,” Pip mumbled, looking embarrassed.
“Yeah,” Matteo said, eyeing the bowl of chips. “That’s gotta suck.”
“Scott’s better than he was last summer,” Skye assured them. “And it’s funny,” she continued, “but he and I are a lot closer since I’ve been living far away. Closer than we’ve been since we were little kids.”
“Well, that’s good, I guess,” Jamila said. “But getting back to those drawings – what did the one of me look like?”
“You looked good, naturally,” Amanda said, sounding a little bitter. “But Skye made me look like a – “
“I’m sorry,” Skye said again. She looked at Maddy, to include her in the apology, but Maddy was staring down at Gran’s rug as if she were inspecting it for dust mites.
“So where are they?” Jamila interrupted, looking around the living room.
“They got thrown out,” Skye told her, mourning her lost drawings only a little. “By one of the committee moms.”
“This isn’t over, though,” Pip said, frowning. “Because those guys still have your sketchbook.”
“But they don’t,” Skye told everyone eagerly. “I got it back! Someone gave it to me this morning.”
“Who?” Jamila asked. “One of the grown-ups at the dance?”
“Who cares who it was?” Matteo said, helping himself to a handful of chips. “This whole thing is over, if you’ve got the sketchbook back. So let’s eat!”
“Maddy?” Skye asked quietly, as the other kids swarmed over Gran’s assorted snacks and jabbered excitedly abo
ut Friday night. “Are we okay?”
“I feel fine, thank you,” Maddy said, misunderstanding Skye’s question.
“Then why won’t you look at me?” Skye asked.
“Because I don’t want to,” Maddy said, still studying the rug. “You made a joke out of me in front of everyone, and I thought you were my real, true friend.”
“I didn’t make a joke out of you,” Skye tried to explain. “I drew a cartoon of you when I moved here last summer, before I even really got to know you. I drew crazy pictures of everyone, Maddy! I never meant for anyone else to see them, though.”
“But I don’t get it,” Maddy said, frowning in concentration. “How is a mean picture supposed to be funny? I would never do something like that to you, Skye.”
“Maybe you’re nicer than I am,” Skye replied, meaning every word. “And anyway,” she continued, “the pictures I drew were just supposed to be funny to me. My sketchbook was like my diary, Maddy. But I’m very, very sorry if I hurt your feelings. I just – like I said before, I was feeling really bad when I had to move here.”
“Feeling bad from keeping so many secrets?” Maddy asked, finally looking at Skye. “Like about having a brother, and about being an artist?”
“I guess,” Skye said. “I kind of liked having a few secrets,” she added, surprised by her own admission. “But that’s private, okay? Just between you and me.”
“Another secret?” a startled Maddy asked.
“But this is the good kind,” Skye assured her. “It’s the kind of secret friends share.”
“Because we are friends, right?” Maddy asked, obviously trying to get things straight. “Real, true friends? If I forgive you?”
“Mm-hmm,” Skye said, nodding.
Maddy thought – for what seemed to Skye like a long, long time. “Then I forgive you, Skye,” she finally said. “Because anyone can make a mistake. But I’m probably missing the meerkats this very minute, so maybe I’d better go home.”
“I’ll ask Gran to turn on the TV, okay?” Skye said. “That way, you can watch the meerkats here, Maddy. Because I really want you to stay.”
“Okay,” Maddy said, smiling. “Go ask!”
22
Big, Big Trouble
HI SKYE! YOU WILL BE HERE THS WEDSDAY, BUT THER IS A SUPRISE! WE ARE GONG TO SANTA FE FOR THNSKGVNG AND SPND 3 DAYS, ITS A PRESNT FRM GRAN. WE STAYE IN A HOTL, MOM SAYS WE EVEN GET RM SEVICE IF WE WANT 2! NO MATTR WHAT HAPPNS WITH MOM AND DAD, YOU AND I HAV FUN, OK? ALWASE. I MISS YOU! LOVE, SCOTT
Dear Scott, Really? That is so cool about Santa Fe!! But I still have to go to school for 2 1/2 more days. Be thinking of me after lunch today, okay? Because I have a feeling I am in big, big trouble with my art teacher.
Love, Skye
P.S. I got my sketchbook back! I’ll tell you all about it when I see you. Oh, and some of my friends came over this afternoon. I thought it was going to be terrible, but we ended up having a lot of fun. Gran even sent out for 3 pizzas, one plain cheese pizza just for Maddy!
“Front and center, art activities kids,” a grim-looking Ms. O’Hare said a few minutes after art class began on Monday and the students had gotten to work on their torn paper collages. “Gather around my desk, if you please.”
Skye, Amanda, Jamila, Matteo, and Pip shot each other brief, panicky glances, then sidled up to their teacher’s desk. Ms. O’Hare pulled a cardboard file out of her gingham-lined tote, opened it, and placed the Homecoming newspaper insert square, on her desk. “So,” she said, and then she waited, as if the other kids in class – industriously snipping and gluing, and pretending not to listen – didn’t know exactly what was happening.
Silent, Skye and the other art activities kids stared down at the insert as if hypnotized; Skye’s four drawings seemed to jump off the page.
“We’ll gather after school for a short meeting, people,” Ms. O’Hare told them. “No excuses. And that includes Maddy, Skye. You can round her up.”
“But I have gymnastics,” Matteo argued feebly.
“And I have track,” Jamila chimed in.
“After school, and no excuses,” Ms. O’Hare said again, sounding more like a scary principal than an art teacher, in Skye’s opinion. “This was a group effort, and you’ll face the consequences as a group.”
“You really let me down,” Ms. O’Hare said when everyone assembled after classes had ended for the day – everyone, including the still-grumbling Matteo and Jamila and Maddy, who, though terror-stricken, had quietly told Skye she would share the blame, if that would help.
“That’s what friends are for,” Maddy solemnly said.
“This – this escapade really makes me look bad, do you realize that?” Ms. O’Hare told her art activities kids. “It makes it seem as though I don’t know what’s going on in my own class! And the art department is on thin ice around here already.”
The art activities kids shifted back and forth, scared that one of them was going to say something about what they’d done, or about why they wanted to get revenge – or that no one would say anything. Skye didn’t know which would be worse.
“Now, I know whose drawings these are,” Ms. O’Hare continued gravely. “I recognize the line. But I’d like that person to step forward and take full responsibility.”
Jamila scowled. “I wasn’t even at the dance, so it’s not me,” she objected, though that wouldn’t clear her at all if she were the guilty one, Skye thought, working it out.
“I was at the dance,” Amanda admitted. “But I didn’t have any fun, if that counts.”
Frozen where she stood, Skye suddenly heard the sound of her beating heart echo in her ears. Did this mean she was about to faint? She cleared her throat. “I – “
“It was all of us,” Pip interrupted, his voice surprisingly firm. “Even Jamila and Amanda. We all thought up the idea. We just talked Skye into doing the drawings, that’s all. She didn’t know any better, ’cause she’s new here. She’s like a foreign-exchange student, practically.”
“I am not,” Skye objected hotly. “I’m from New Mexico, in the U.S.A. It’s just two states over! Geez.”
“It was our forty-seventh state,” loyal Maddy confirmed. “And it has been, ever since 1912.”
“What on earth made you do such a thing, Skye?” Ms. O’Hare asked her, ignoring the history lesson.
A dozen thoughts chased each other around inside Skye’s head, because – how could she explain? That she was getting even with those football guys for “colliding” with Maddy that first day, for trying to hurt Amanda’s feelings, and for kicking Pip? Or that she was getting even with Melissa and Taylor, too, for all their snotty comments? And that she wanted to get even with any mean person in the future who might tease or torment Maddy or Scott – or anyone else with anything wrong with them?
That, in a weird way, she was trying to make Sierra Madre seem more real?
None of it sounded very plausible, even if all of it was the truth.
“You ruined a souvenir of a very special day in those boys’ lives,” Ms. O’Hare said. “Also, you abused both your talent and the trust I placed in you all to do a professional job on this paper. And now, we have to figure out a way of making things right for those four boys. First, an apology is in order.”
“We’re sorry,” the art kids mumbled in unison.
“Don’t apologize to me, for heaven’s sake,” Ms. O’Hare said, shaking her head in exasperation. “Apologize to the boys you wronged! And here they are now.”
And, to the horror of Skye and all the other art activities kids, Aaron Petterson, Danko Marshall, Cord Driscoll, and Kee Williams came slinking into the room, accompanied by their football coach. Kee looked briefly at Skye and gave her a secret smile so small that his mouth barely moved, and Danko glanced at her once, then blushed and looked away.
And for the first time in weeks, Skye wished again that she were invisible – just so she could stare deep into Danko’s eyes and search for the artist who was hiding
somewhere inside.
She wanted to know what he’d been trying to say.
23
Making Things Right
“Apologize to these nice young men,” Ms. O’Hare instructed her wayward little flock.
“We’re sorry,” most of the art kids chorused, fingers crossed behind one or two backs.
Pip, however, had something else to say. “They aren’t nice, and we only did what we did because we had to,” he said loudly, his voice shaking a little.
“Why did you have to?” Ms. O’Hare asked, frowning.
“Because those boys kept calling Pip against-the-law names, that’s why,” Amanda said, stepping forward, her voice squeaking more than ever. “Like ‘pansy’ and –” She whispered the bad words to Ms. O’Hare. “Especially Aaron and Cord! And Melissa and Taylor. And they aren’t so nice to me, either.”
“They’re mean,” Matteo and Jamila confirmed, heads nodding.
“And I know it’s not a good thing to tattle,” Maddy said, after raising her hand, “but sometimes Aaron and Cord bump into me on purpose, and they call me ‘retard.’ And those two girls do it, also.”
Skye knew how much courage it had taken Maddy to speak up, and she gave her friend’s cold hand a warm squeeze.
Coach turned to face his players. “Is any of this true?” he asked quietly.
“No,” a sullen Aaron replied.
“They’re lying,” Cord said.
“All of them?” Coach asked, folding his big arms across his chest.
“They aren’t lying,” Kee said, stepping forward. “I guess we should apologize or something. All of us.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Danko mumbled.