Absolutely Alfie and the First Week Friends

by Sally Warner

  What if things couldn’t be fixed?

  “But I’m truly curious about something, Alfie,” Mr. Havens was saying. “You knew what the real challenge was. So why did you end up going along with the others when you knew they were wrong?”

  I did it so Hanni and Lulu would still like me, Alfie thought, but didn’t say.

  “But—how could I do a team project all by myself?” she asked instead.

  “That’s a good question,” Mr. Havens admitted, laughing.

  “I had to do something,” Alfie explained. “I couldn’t turn in nothing. I kept hoping you’d come over and tell us we were doing things wrong,” she added, trying not to sound too blame-y. “But you didn’t.”

  “Outer space defense machines cannot assemble themselves,” he said, shaking his head. “But as I told you, I dropped the ball.”

  That was basketball talk, Alfie guessed.

  “How would you handle things if something like this ever happened again?” Mr. Havens asked. “Would you do anything differently, Alfie?”

  Alfie thought about it. “I guess I’d make up a reason to go find you,” she said at last. “You know, to ask for permission to go to the restroom or something,” she added, whispering the word “restroom.”

  How embarrassing was this?

  “There’s a plan,” he said, nodding as he smiled.

  “So, are you going to flunk us on this big project?” Alfie asked, made bold by his smile. “During the very first week of second grade?” She was barely able to put the words together, they were so terrible. “Because if you put our messed-up Cardboard Challenges on display for everyone to see, Mrs. Sobel’s gonna have a melt-down.”

  “There will be no melting-down at Back to School Night,” Mr. Havens assured Alfie. “It’s not a big deal. I’ll explain to the parents what happened today, and how it was my fault things went wrong. We can all learn from this, Alfie,” he added. “Myself included. It takes time for teamwork to happen.”

  “It is a big deal at Hanni’s house,” Alfie told him. “You should see it over there, Mr. Havens. Everything’s perfect—in every single room. Mrs. Sobel even has matching cookies stacked up straight in fancy glass jars,” she explained, trying to give Mr. Havens an example.

  Alfie had spent every other day at Hanni’s house during the last three weeks of summer. She loved looking at the things in each perfect room at the Sobels’ house, but she was always relieved when she went home.

  She could breathe deeper, somehow, in her own relaxed and cozy house.

  If the parent helpers couldn’t fix things tomorrow, Alfie did not think Mrs. Sobel was going to appreciate having Hanni’s pretend computer displayed as a bad example of teamwork on Friday night—no matter what Mr. Havens thought.

  Sometimes teachers just didn’t get parents! Not some parents, anyway.

  “There’s always hope, Miss Jakes,” Mr. Havens said, giving her a big, muscular smile. “You’re a loyal friend, and we still have tomorrow. I’ll talk to your team first thing in the afternoon.”

  He was right. The Cardboard Challenge wasn’t over yet, Alfie told herself as she slipped out the door and hurried to the girls’ restroom before it was time for class to start again.

  There was still tomorrow.

  12

  Scramble

  Alfie slid the note under EllRay’s bedroom door about ten minutes after the family finished dinner and the dishes. Tiny Princess made a furry, purry figure-eight around her ankles as Alfie waited for her brother to notice it.

  “I am in troble,” Alfie’s note read.

  Because yes, she and EllRay sometimes got on each other’s nerves.

  And yes, he was often too busy with his friends to hang out with her anymore.

  And yes, he had refused to help her with the Cardboard Challenge.

  But they had always been a team.

  Alfie sank down on the hallway floor outside EllRay’s room. She pulled Princess onto her lap and waited. She knew her sixth-grader brother was either busy plotting how to rule, whatever that meant, or he was doing his amazingly complicated sixth grade homework.

  Dividing specks of dust, maybe.

  Wasn’t she, Alfie, supposed to be doing her own “Word Scramble” worksheet that very minute? She should be figuring out how to put together five or six floating words so they made a real sentence that could sit without embarrassment on a line of notebook paper.

  “The boy throws the ball,” instead of “boy The ball throws the.”

  An answering note slid back out to her, and Princess pounced on it. “No,” Alfie whispered, laughing. “Give it here, kitty.”

  She unfolded EllRay’s note.

  “Knock three times, then count to ten, then come in,” it read.

  Alfie chewed her lip for a second. “I don’t know this first word yet,” she called through the door. “What am I supposed to do three times before I count to ten?”

  “Knock,” EllRay yelled back.

  “Oh. I think you spelled it wrong, but okay,” Alfie said. She could do that.

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  One—two—three—four—five—six—seven—eight—nine—ten.

  Open the door.

  Her brother sat with his back against the bed, an open notebook on the floor next to him. He scratched his fingers on the floor, and Princess tottered over. She was part of their team now, too, Alfie thought, smiling.

  Their cute mascot, maybe.

  “What kind of trouble?” EllRay asked. “It’s only the first week of school. I gotta say, I’m surprised,” he added, teasing.

  “Don’t joke,” Alfie said. “And please don’t tell Mom or Dad. This is serious, and they’ll find out soon enough. Remember the Cardboard Challenge I told you about last night?” she asked. “That teamwork project you wouldn’t help me with?”

  “Uh-huh,” EllRay said, not looking at all guilty as he tickled Princess’s tummy.

  And Alfie told her brother the story of that terrible afternoon.

  “Where was Coach during all this?” EllRay asked. “Mr. Havens, I mean?”

  “In the craft closet,” Alfie reported. “But later on, he seemed to know everything that happened.”

  “He’s like that on the playground, too,” EllRay told her, nodding. “He’s Stealth-Dude out there during basketball practice. He sees all and hears all. He catches every little mistake. So, how did it end?” he asked.

  “Mr. Havens said he’d talk to the other kids on my team tomorrow afternoon,” Alfie said. “He wasn’t really worried at all,” she added, frowning. “He said ‘mistakes happen.’ He’s treating the whole thing like it’s some weird science experiment.”

  “Yeah,” EllRay said. “Sometimes he lets kids goof up—just to prove a point. Especially if they didn’t listen in the first place.”

  “But now, my team only has one more day—an hour, really—to get the project right,” Alfie told him. “Because today was building day, see, and tomorrow is decorating day,” she explained.

  “Huh.”

  “But what do you think I should do tomorrow morning?” Alfie asked. “Something? Anything?”

  “The way I see it, you have two choices,” EllRay said. “One, you could tell the other kids what Mr. Havens said about them doing the project wrong,” he told her. “Or two, you could not tell them what he said. Just let him do it in the afternoon, like he said.”

  “I like number two,” Alfie said. “I already told them the right thing once,” she added, “and nobody listened. If I tell them again, Hanni and Lulu might say I think I’m so great. And anyway, no matter what he says, it’s too late for us to build a new teamwork project together and have time to decorate it. No matter how much help we get. Not with just one hour left tomorrow.”

  “I guess you’re right,” EllRay said, stroking the now-sleepi
ng kitten curled up on his open notebook.

  “But if I don’t tell them what he said about teamwork,” Alfie said, trying to work out this real-life scramble as she spoke, “and if we don’t have time to fix things, then I will end up turning in a wrong project too. And on Back to School Night, Mom and Dad will think I didn’t know any better. They’ll be so embarrassed.”

  Especially her dad, Alfie thought. He was super-interested in having EllRay and her doing well in school.

  “They’ll survive,” EllRay said, laughing. “I’ve embarrassed them a lot worse.”

  “But instead of being the All-Stars,” Alfie said, “our team will be the No-Stars if I turn in a wrong assignment, too. Not that I could do a team project all by myself. I’m just one kid. But even if it’s wrong,” she added, cheering herself up, “I’ll still have my special first week, second grade friends. Hanni and Lulu will still like me.”

  I hope, she added silently.

  “Sorry I couldn’t help,” EllRay said, shrugging.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Alfie said, flashing her big brother a smile. “For some weird reason, I usually feel better after talking to you, EllRay. Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome?” he said, turning his reply into a confused question.

  But then he smiled at her, too.

  Teamwork!

  13

  Good-night Cuddle

  An hour later, Alfie was freshly showered and sitting up in bed coloring as she waited for her dad. She had already said good night to her mom. She wished Princess was there—but Princess had decided to sleep in EllRay’s room tonight.

  “Oh well,” Alfie murmured.

  “Oh well, what?” her dad said, slipping into her room.

  “Oh well, I have to share Princess,” she explained. “But I don’t mind.”

  Dr. Jakes perched on the end of Alfie’s bed. He was tall and thin, and his glasses glittered in the darkened room. He straightened his daughter’s blanket and gently brushed his big hand across her brow. “My second-grader,” he said, sounding proud. “Did you finish your homework, Cricket?”

  “Mm-hmm,” she said, nodding. “It was just a couple of worksheets. I think Mr. Havens is busy thinking about Back to School Night on Friday. But you and Mom don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” she added, inspired. “I can tell you what he’s going to say.”

  “Are you kidding?” her dad said. “We wouldn’t miss it for the world! I want to see for myself what’s going on with Mr. Havens and the All-Stars,” he added.

  “So you heard about that,” Alfie said, and she sighed. Her eyes wanted to close as her father spoke, but she had to stay alert, she warned herself. There was something she needed to say. “That means you’re going to be the one visiting my class, right?” she asked. “And Mom is going to EllRay’s room this year?”

  It was complicated for parents when they had two kids going to the same school on Back to School Night, Alfie knew.

  “For the most part,” her dad told her. “But of course your mom and I will meet both your teachers. I hope there will be lots of work up on the walls,” he said, smiling in the dark.

  “It’s only Wednesday,” Alfie warned him. “The first week of school. We haven’t done very much work yet. In fact, I haven’t learned one new thing,” she added, scowling. “Maybe you should ask for your money back. Or stay home.”

  “I’m not worried,” her dad said, laughing. “There’s a little time left in the school year, I think.”

  “As long as I’m trying. Right, Dad?” Alfie asked, hoping to plant this idea in his brainy head.

  “Mmm?” he asked, sounding as if he were away somewhere, lost in his own scientific thoughts. Geology was about everything that made up planet Earth, Alfie knew by now, so those thoughts could keep him pretty busy.

  “Just as long as I try, then that’s okay,” Alfie said, repeating her secret message in a slightly different way.

  “Well, trying is certainly important,” her father said, thinking about it. “But I believe that both you and EllRay know that your mother and I expect a little more of you than just that.”

  “But trying is a big part of anything, right?” Alfie asked. “Because nobody can be perfect all the time.”

  She pictured her father on Back to School Night, peering down at her puny cardboard frame as a tiny photograph of Princess stared back at him. “Teamwork!” Mr. Havens would be saying as her father’s brow wrinkled in concern, seeing this solitary effort. Could it be any more opposite?

  He might come home disappointed in her!

  The worst.

  “I don’t expect you to be perfect, Alfie,” her dad said, his voice rumbly and deep. “You’re not worried about that, are you?”

  “Not that,” Alfie murmured. “Not exactly.”

  But there was a big difference between perfection, she thought, and doing your first assignment all wrong. Her dad wouldn’t know any of the complicated details about how that had happened.

  About the parent helper who might have had car trouble.

  About the long line at the craft closet.

  About Mr. Havens’s goofy “mistakes happen” attitude.

  About the parent helpers who probably wouldn’t be able to fix things tomorrow.

  “I’m sure everything at Back to School Night will be just fine,” Alfie’s dad said, getting ready to kiss her cheek and leave. “Your mother and I will come home on Friday night as proud as peacocks—of both our children.”

  “But if you don’t come home proud, at least you know we tried,” Alfie reminded him. “Because everyone makes mistakes, Dad. They happen.”

  “I know that, Alfie,” her father told her, sounding a little bewildered. “Now, stop worrying, and go to sleep. Okay? Can you do that for me? Because tomorrow is another day.”

  Grownups were always saying stuff like that, Alfie thought scooching down under the covers.

  “I can try to sleep,” she said, driving home her point in what she hoped was a sneaky but clever way.

  “You try, then, Cricket,” her dad said, grazing his lips across her cheek. It was his version of a goodnight kiss. “Sleep tight.”

  Hah, Alfie thought, watching a pie-slice of golden ceiling light grow skinny as he closed her bedroom door behind him. Just—hah.

  She was going to sleep loose, not tight. Loose—and worried.

  14

  The Perfect S’more

  On Thursday morning, Alfie could feel the difference in temperature at once when she went outside. “That’s better,” she whispered as she climbed into her mom’s car for carpool.

  According to her brother EllRay’s theory, it would either be hot today, or hot-hot. But not weird-hot.

  Hanni was full of chatter about her cardboard project during the ride to school, but Alfie didn’t say a word. She would leave everything to Mr. Havens.

  Once they got to school, the morning went by so fast that she didn’t have time to worry much about that afternoon’s decorating session. Mr. Havens’s class whizzed through Shared Reading, Writing Workshop, and morning recess as if they’d been in second grade for months, not just a few days.

  Even math went by fast. Alfie was calling it “Money Math,” because money had been the theme of the arithmetic they’d done so far. Today, Suzette Monahan had a mini-meltdown during the “Can I Buy It?” lesson when she learned that she did not have enough pretend money to buy the pretend snack she wanted.

  But apart from that, the All-Stars had it down, Mr. Havens assured them.

  Now it was time for lunch, and to Alfie’s joy it was cool enough for them to eat outside. “Wait for me,” Phoebe was telling Arletty at the cubby room door. “Can we eat together? You too, Alfie, if you want,” she added. A crowd of noisy, hungry kids churned around them, but Phoebe’s voice was friendly and warm.

  Phoebe could be a c
haracter in one of her mother’s books, Alfie thought, watching the girl’s golden hair catch the light. Some princess’s daughter, maybe.

  Alfie wondered what it would be like to have easy hair like Phoebe’s. Just brush-and-go, she guessed. But she knew she would miss the special time her mom spent with her each day, doing her hair. Not the detangling part, but everything else.

  “Maybe I can,” she said to Phoebe with a smile.

  But it wouldn’t be today, because this lunch was Alfie’s last chance to play with Hanni and Lulu before that afternoon’s dreaded decorating session. She needed somehow to super-glue the three of them together for good. She wanted to stay on their sweet side so they would end up fitting together perfectly—like a three-piece puzzle.

  After that, it would be Hanni, Lulu, and Alfie forever.

  Leadership, cuteness, and energy. Win, win, win!

  Hanni and Lulu had already gone outside together to the picnic tables, along with Suzette Monahan and a couple of other girls in their class. Alfie hurried after them.

  Like most kids, Alfie finished her lunch as quickly as possible. She always wanted more time to play. But when playtime came, instead of choosing what seemed to her to be the most fun thing to do, Alfie looked to see what Hanni and Lulu were doing.

  Because today, she needed to do that.

  Hanni and Lulu were down in the sunken play area, perched on a circle of upright logs that had been turned into outdoor chairs. The circle had been installed around what the kids called their invisible campfire. This was one of Oak Glen Primary School’s new “nature features,” they’d been told the first day of school.

  The second grade girls had claimed it right away.

  Alfie liked activities in the running-and-jumping family much better than perching, but whatever, she told herself, remembering her goal.

  “Hi, guys,” she said, slipping into the circle of girls and taking a seat.