by Megan Atwood
Suddenly, something occurred to her. “Oh, no,” she said. “Oh, no, Sheriff Hadley. I think that means I’m the . . . mean one!”
A wave of shame washed over her. She hadn’t been nice to Olive and Peter at all. It wasn’t their fault that she was worried about her friendship. And even if she was going to lose Lizzie, she couldn’t be like the mean people who were terrible to Nane and Papa.
The sheriff spoke, again softly. “Listen, honey. You’re not a mean person. You’re working some things out. But if there’s one thing I know and love about New Amity, it’s that we take care of each other. We know what it’s like to be on the outside. And so we make sure to let everybody in. And, my dear—you are a part of New Amity. There’s always time to do the kind thing.”
Sarah, with tears in her eyes for a different reason, nodded. “I have to go.”
The sheriff smiled. “It sounds like it.”
Sarah sprinted to the door and threw it open. She got about two steps away and then ran back inside.
Breathlessly, she said, “Sheriff Hadley, did you steal any money from the ice cream stand?”
The sheriff had his paintbrush in his hand again and popped around the almost-Tardis. “WHAT?” he said, his face twisted in confusion and already speckled with more blue.
Sarah yelled, “Didn’t think so! Thanks, Sheriff Hadley!” and then she walked fast out the door again and started toward the orchard.
Then she stopped. She couldn’t go back to the orchard yet, not without having talked to Ms. Henderson. She’d just have to stop there first. And anyway, she needed to think of what she’d say. Or how they could all make up. She started the walk to Annabelle’s, thinking about the ways she’d make things better.
She imagined running up to Olive and Peter and saying, “WELCOME!” and then they’d hug her and laugh. And Olive would say, “Finally,” and Peter would say something math-related or robot-related. And Lizzie would say to her, “You are the best person and friend anyone could ever hope to be.” And then they’d have inside jokes among ALL of them and it would feel good for the first time since summer started.
Sarah hurried down the path, imagining all sorts of fun scenarios, and almost bulldozed right into Gloria.
“Excuse you, baby child. You should watch where you’re going.” Gloria wore a beret and sunglasses and a short red scarf tied around her neck. Her blue-striped shirt made her look like an old-fashioned sailor.
Sarah said, “Sorry, Gloria.”
The chime on the door of Annabelle’s tinkled, and Ms. Henderson stepped out. “Oh, goodness, I’m so glad I caught you. I found these for the props in the play. And I should have your costumes ready soon for you to try on. I’ve been working on them day and night all week—I haven’t left this store or my apartment once!”
“Well, that means Ms. Henderson is out of the equation,” thought Sarah. “That was easy.”
Gloria looked over her sunglasses at the candlesticks Ms. Henderson had brought. “Très magnifique, Mademoiselle Henderson. I believe Nyo and Aisling will adore these as I do. Bises!” She leaned over and gave a surprised Ms. Henderson a kiss on one cheek and then on the other. Now Sarah got it—Gloria was pretending to be French today.
Ms. Henderson beamed and said, “Good to see you again, Sarah. I hope you were all able to use the facilities after your visit today.”
Sarah wrinkled her nose. “Huh?”
“Your potty dance outside the window. You had just left and then you all seemed to get a case of the . . . well, I won’t say more. Already I fear I am indelicate. It is always good to see you.” And with that she disappeared back into the store.
Sarah’s face burned. Ms. Henderson was talking about when Beckett had seen them and they had each done something weird.
“Goodbye, baby child. I hope you needn’t do a pee-pee dance again.” Gloria waved her hand and started down the path.
Sarah had a thought. She caught up with Gloria so they were walking side by side. “Gloria . . . how come you don’t hang out with Jeff anymore?”
Gloria stopped abruptly. She fanned her face. “Oh, I’m afraid that topic is entirely too distressing. I shall not go into it.” She started walking again, still fanning her face.
“Did you decide you liked Nyo and Aisling better? Is that what happened?” Sarah had to know. She had to.
Gloria stopped again. “How dare you, mademoiselle!” she said, then started walking yet again.
Sarah thought this might be an incredibly long conversation. Gloria stopped again. Sarah also thought she might get whiplash from all the starts and stops.
“I’ll tell you why we are not friends anymore! He decided not to support me in my new endeavors. Instead of being a GOOD friend, très bien, he chose to think my new life’s passion was stupide and told me so. Then he stopped talking to ME. Can you believe it?” Gloria looked out into the distance, and for the first time, Sarah saw real hurt in her eyes.
“You think your best friend will support you no matter what. That he will grow with you instead of trying to hold on to only those things in the past. We didn’t need to like the same things. He just had to understand that I liked them.” Gloria sniffled and pushed her sunglasses back up. She continued, “It’s no worry at this point. I’ve found people who do support me. All is très bien again.” She began to walk fast away from Sarah. “Goodbye, baby child. Au revoir!”
This time Sarah let her go on ahead. She felt like she’d learned a lot, though. The bad part was—she’d learned a lot about herself. And maybe didn’t like what she saw.
CHAPTER 11
No Ice Cream. Not Any.
This time, Sarah would make it to the orchard, tell everyone what she knew, and . . . start again. This time, she’d be the kind of person everyone thought she was. The person she wanted to be. Suddenly, the zombie hayride and the stolen money didn’t seem as important anymore.
Sarah ran back and got her bike from behind Annabelle’s. It seemed like years since they’d followed Beckett. Well, at least Sarah felt older and wiser. No one else’s bikes were there, and she was excited that everyone would be meeting at the orchard. She hopped on, mentally practicing things she was going to say when she caught up with everyone. She went back to her scenario, only made it bigger—more hugs! More of “You’re so great, Sarah!” And from Lizzie? “I’m so happy you’re my best friend.” Sarah smiled to herself as she started biking toward Main Street.
She didn’t get very far before she was stopped in her tracks. In front of Dinah’s Diner (and Bait) were three bikes. Three bikes that should have been at the orchard. An uncomfortable feeling started in Sarah’s stomach and traveled all the way to her head and all the way back to her feet. She got off her bike and walked it to the diner’s window, dread making her steps heavy.
Sarah looked through the window—there Olive, Peter, and Lizzie sat in a booth. They were laughing hysterically and had gigantic malts in front of them again.
They were supposed to split up.
But instead, the three of them were using the time to have fun together—without Sarah.
Maybe they’d even planned it so that Sarah didn’t ruin their fun with all her . . . Sarahness.
For the second time that day, tears sprang to her eyes. But this time, they were mad tears—mad tears at someone else. Sarah willed the tears away, sniffled, and let the mad feeling take over. She clenched her fists and huffed out her breath. Then, before her mom’s voice could jump in and tell her to count to ten, she threw open the door and stormed into the diner. Right up to their table.
Lizzie’s eyes got wide when she saw her. “Sarah . . . ,” she said, but then stopped. Sarah wondered if Lizzie had no idea how to come clean that she’d betrayed Sarah so badly.
“I thought we were supposed to split up. But I guess I was just supposed to split up. I guess you all just wanted to hang out without me so you came up with this plan!” Sarah pointed to Peter. “You’re the one who said we should split up.” Then she
pointed to Olive. “And YOU agreed.” Then she looked at Lizzie. “I thought you were my best friend, Lizzie. But I guess I’m just a big old nuisance and you couldn’t wait to get rid of me! I’m glad you found new friends and that you don’t need me anymore! I hope you’re all happy together!”
Sarah realized that the whole diner had gotten quiet. She hadn’t really meant to make a scene. But then again, she was so upset, she didn’t really care. Her whole life was falling apart—everything she’d thought she knew about her friendship and herself was totally wrong. Peter and Olive had ruined everything.
Before she started crying in front of everyone, Sarah ran out of the diner and grabbed her bike. She hopped on and rode harder than she ever had. She never wanted to see them ever again. The talks she’d had with Sheriff Hadley and Gloria seemed a million years away. Her worst fears were true—she didn’t have her best friend anymore.
She pedaled all the way home, crying the whole time. When she got there, her mom saw her face and grabbed her in a big hug. “Oh, sweetie, I heard you had a bad day.”
Sarah didn’t even question it. News traveled fast in New Amity. And she’d just made a huge scene in front of everyone.
She let her mom take her to the couch and tuck her inside a blanket, even though it was a million degrees outside. Still, the air conditioning in their apartment was going hard and the room was nice and cool. The air made it feel to Sarah that the whole world was far, far away. Which was what she needed. For once, she was glad her mom wouldn’t let her use a cell phone. Maybe it was good she didn’t have to see texts from anyone. Or wonder what was being texted about her.
Her mom brought out some tea. Sarah took it, too miserable to say anything. Her mom patted her leg. “Want to talk about it?”
Sarah swallowed and shook her head. She didn’t think she could start talking without crying. Her mom nodded and leaned back.
There was a knock on the door. Sarah’s stomach clenched. She hoped above all else that it was Lizzie coming to tell her that she’d been wrong, that they were still best friends, and that she was sorry they’d left Sarah out. But Sarah also hoped it wasn’t Lizzie. Sarah’s mom went to the door, and Sarah listened closely as footsteps came down the hall.
Not Lizzie. The walk was all wrong.
Sheriff Hadley stuck his head into the living room and then the rest of him appeared. He still had blue all over himself. He was in the same white T-shirt and blue jeans he’d worn earlier, only he held his sheriff’s hat in his hand.
“The sheriff is here to see you, honey. Colin, can I get you something to drink?” Sarah’s mom touched her hair and pushed it away from her face. She touched her hair a lot around the sheriff. Her eyes got brighter too.
“Uh, that’d be great, Ana. I’ll take some of that tea you make that’s so delicious.” He blushed and then shifted on his feet.
“Sure, Colin. Have a seat.” They smiled at each other for what Sarah thought was a really weird amount of time.
Finally, her mom went into the kitchen and the sheriff sat down on a chair across from Sarah.
“It seems the plan you had after our talk earlier got derailed. You’ve had quite the day, huh?” he said, turning his hat in his hands and leaning forward.
Sarah nodded and rested her chin in her hand. She was so miserable, she didn’t think she had any words left.
“You know, I happened to see Peter and Olive and Lizzie after you took off.” Sarah’s mom came back with the tea and set it down by the sheriff. “Thanks, Ana. I love your tea.
“You made quite the scene,” the sheriff continued. Sarah looked down. “But mostly, all three of them were really upset that you were upset.”
Sarah shrugged and mumbled, “Ghsroifish.”
Sheriff Hadley said, “What, now?”
Sarah sighed. “I SAID, I was upset because they left me out on purpose.”
The sheriff nodded for a second and then sat back, putting the hat on his knee. “Hmmm. Yeah, I can see how it looked like that.”
Sarah played with the blanket on her lap.
“But, you know, in the training academy, they tell us that something like that is just circumstantial evidence. Do you know what that is?” he went on.
“DUH,” Sarah said. Her mom squeezed her foot and Sarah knew that meant “Don’t be rude.” So she cleared her throat. “It means that the evidence could just LOOK one way, but it doesn’t really prove anything.”
Sheriff Hadley smiled. “Exactly. Smart as a whip, just like your mom.” The sheriff and Sarah’s mom smiled at each other. For way too long. Again.
“But that doesn’t mean it’s NOT right,” said Sarah stubbornly. “Sometimes circumstantial evidence DOES point to something.”
The sheriff nodded again. “That’s true. One of the best ways to get the right information, though, is to talk to people. Did you know that? It’s amazing how truthful people can be when you just talk to them. My mom taught me that when she was sheriff.”
Sarah didn’t say anything.
“So after you left,” he went on, “I just went up to those three and asked if they were okay. And they were just as upset as you. Because it seems like you didn’t quite have all the information.”
Now Sarah paid attention. She looked up.
Sheriff Hadley smiled and leaned forward again. “See, this is what they told me. They said you have some money missing from the safe—by the way, you could always come tell me, you know.”
Sarah shrugged. She could feel her mom’s eyes on her.
“But you can tell the Garrisons first before I get involved. Anyway, they told me the money was missing and you had all been doing your investigations. So you split up. But it became pretty clear to everyone fast that nothing was coming of it. So they went to Annabelle’s to try to find you. I think you were interrogating me at that time.” He stopped and looked at Sarah’s mom. “A terrifying interrogator. We should use her for our crooks when we catch them.”
Sarah played with the blanket but smiled a little.
“Anyway, they grabbed their bikes and then went to Dinah’s to see if they couldn’t catch you. And that way you could all ride together to the orchard.”
Sarah looked up, her eyes huge. They were trying to hang out with her? This made everything she’d said totally wrong. She swallowed. “They . . . they . . . were waiting for me?”
The sheriff nodded. “Oh, yes. They were coming up with a new idea. See, evidently, Peter and Olive offered to dip into their college fund to pay for the zombie hayride. They couldn’t wait to tell you.”
Sarah felt like she’d been kicked in the stomach. Her mom gave her a look that said, “Well, look what you did now, Sarah. See? Everyone loves you and you were just really mean.”
Once again, Sarah had been the mean one. She needed some time to think things through. And they had the dinner tonight.
“I didn’t . . . I didn’t know” was what she ended up saying.
The sheriff nodded and then stood up, holding his hat. “I didn’t think so, Sarah. You know what I said to them? I said, ‘Sarah isn’t normally like this. She’s one of the best people I know.’ And you know who agreed? Lizzie. She said she wasn’t sure how to talk to you about this. That you don’t seem to look at her anymore so it’s hard to talk to you.”
Now the tears trailed down Sarah’s face. Lizzie was right.
But the sheriff wasn’t done. “And you know who else agreed? Peter and Olive. Only, Olive said, ‘We think she’s great too. Though we wish she didn’t hate us.’ ” He turned to Sarah's mom and said, “Ana, thanks so much for the tea. I’d love to . . . we should . . . I wonder if . . . Uh. Thanks so much for the tea.”
Sarah’s mom nodded and said, “Thanks for coming by, Sheriff. You’re welcome anytime. Anytime. Stop by any, anytime.” She walked with him to the front door, leaving Sarah feeling awful on the couch.
CHAPTER 12
Hot Fudge Sundae That Was TOO Hot but Is Now Cooled Down and with Some Toppings
Might Sweeten Things a Bit?
Maybe I shouldn’t go tonight,” Sarah mumbled. The dinner was in just an hour and she didn’t think she could feel any more awful. She didn’t think she could face Peter and Olive. Not to mention Lizzie.
But her mom just said, “Would you like me to find you a book on making up? Maybe something by Stephen King . . . ,” and went back to her closet to find something to wear, humming to herself.
Sometimes Sarah had a sneaking suspicion that her mom only pretended to be a space cadet. Just enough so that Sarah would have to figure things out for herself.
She got off the couch and washed her face. She changed into a shirt that Lizzie had gotten her—it said, OF ALL THE THINGS I’VE LOST IT’S MY MIND I MISS THE MOST. They had giggled for hours over it in a store, and Lizzie had bought it for Sarah for her birthday. Maybe the shirt would do two things: tell Lizzie she still wanted to be her friend and say that she knew she’d gone a little off the deep end.
“Ready?” Sarah’s mom said.
Sarah swallowed, closed her eyes, and nodded.
She felt a peck on her forehead. “My little peanut butter nutter, sometimes the best thing you can do is face the music. Own up to what you did. Speak from the heart. You’d be amazed at what that can do.”
Sarah nodded and, surprising even herself, took her mother’s hand as they walked down the apartment stairs and to the car.
When they got to Lizzie’s house, there was no Lizzie waiting on the porch. The house looked huge to Sarah, way huger than it had ever looked. And it seemed more shadowy, somehow. She dragged her feet as they got out of the car.
Normally she would have burst through the door, but everything was different now. Her mom rang the bell.
Mr. G answered. “Well, hello, Ana!” he yelled, looking cheery. “And Sarah! When we heard the doorbell, we expected a door-to-door salesman! Come in, come in!”