“Well there’s a first time for everything,” Dad said. “So should I drop you off, darling?”
“Do I have to go?” I asked. This girl, Evie, was a stranger. What if Dad dropped me off and I didn’t even like her?
“You don’t have to go,” Dad said. “But why not? You don’t have anything else planned today, and Penny has Zoey coming over.”
You see, even Dad thought I had no friends.
CHAPTER 5
Good Things Come in Small Packages
Evie lives in a part of Somers called Hilltop Acres. It’s just five blocks from our house, so Dad and I walked—just like Penny can walk to Zoey’s because she lives so close. On the way over, I changed my mind about the whole thing. I like dogs just fine, but a HUMAN would be my first choice for a best friend. Maybe Evie would be the right human new best friend for me.
Hilltop Acres has a bunch of really loooooong buildings, and each one has twelve front doors—I counted—twelve different homes. Dad told me they’re called garden apartments.
We walked up to apartment 307. I pressed the button to ring the doorbell. “Coming,” a lady’s voice called from the other side.
I was excited and nervous all at the same time and I reached for Dad’s hand. He took it and squeezed my hand back. But holding my dad’s hand seemed a little babyish, so I pretended all I wanted was the squeeze and I let go right before the door swung open.
I recognized the lady on the other side right away. She was the one who had been at Man’s Best Friend, who had the daughter with an accent. “Hello Dave,” she said in a noaccent kind of voice. She turned to me. “And you must be Stella. I’m Julie King. It’s nice to meet you.”
Dad nudged me in the side just the eensy weensiest bit. “Nice to meet you too,” I said.
“Come on in, and please excuse the mess.” She held the door open wider. We stepped inside and I saw there were tons of boxes. They all had writing on the sides, like “J. Sweaters,” “E. Books,” “H. Papers,” and “Bathroom.” “Evie!” Mrs. King shouted. The girl with the accent came when Mrs. King called, just like I knew she would.
“This is my daughter, Evie,” Mrs. King said. “We just moved here from England, and she’s going to be in Mrs. Finkel’s third-grade class on Monday.”
“Stella’s in Mrs. Finkel’s class too,” Dad said.
It was hard to believe Evie was in my grade. She was even taller than I remembered. Like if you stacked two Batts bars the long way on top of my head, that’s how tall she was. She was wearing a red plaid skirt, a white shirt, and a vest that was the same red plaid as the skirt. I felt like I wasn’t dressed up enough to play with her.
“Wonderful,” Mrs. King said. “I don’t think Evie’s unpacked all her games yet, but you’ll have a lot to talk about.”
“Do you have a deck of cards?” I asked. I turned to Evie. “I could teach you to play Spit.”
“That’s gross,” she said.
“It’s not really spit,” I started to explain.
“No thank you,” she said.
“Well, I’m sure you girls will work something out,” Dad said. “So, Stel, I’ll pick you up in a couple of hours, okay?”
I started to say, “Okay.”
“Hold on,” Evie said. “We’re supposed to play for a couple of HOURS?”
“Evie!” Mrs. King said.
“What?” she said. “I’ve got a lot of unpacking to do. And I promised Tesa I’d ring her, too.”
Ring? Did she mean call?
It didn’t matter what she meant. This girl was NOT going to be my new best friend.
“You’re being rude,” Mrs. King told her. She turned to Dad and me. “Tesa is a friend from London,” she explained. “I grew up here in Somers, but Evie is having some trouble adjusting.”
“I’m not having trouble adjusting,” Evie said. “I just have other stuff to do and I don’t want to play with her.”
My cheeks went hot, really hot, so I knew they were turning red: red like cherry Life Savers. Red like Twizzlers. Red like red hot candies. First Willa, then Evie. Okay, so Willa didn’t exactly say “I don’t want to play with her.” But “I don’t want to talk to her” is close enough.
Evie and her mom glared at each other. I waited for Dad to say it was time for us to go home, but right then someone pushed open the door from the outside and almost banged Dad on the head.
It was a man. A SUPER tall man. Like if three Evies stood on top of one another, that’s how tall he was.
“Hey, I’m sorry mate,” the man said. His accent was just like Evie’s. Well, not just like hers-he had the grown-up man version of her voice. But still, unlike Mrs. King, he sounded like someone who was related to Evie.
“My husband, Hugh,” Mrs. King said to me and Dad. We all said, “Nice to meet you.”
“Sorry again about the door,” Mr. King said. “I’m having a bit of bad luck today. I’ve just locked the keys to the truck inside the truck. We don’t have a spare set, do we Jules?”
“Again?” Mrs. King asked. “Why is it so hard for you to remember your keys?”
“I guess I’m busy remembering to drive on the right side of the road,” he said.
Mr. King can’t remember what side of the road to drive on? I will NEVER get into a car with him! Not that I’ll ever have to, because Evie and I aren’t going to be friends.
“My wife was able to open a car door with a wire hanger once,” Dad said.
“I didn’t know that,” I said. “When?”
“Last year, a customer locked her keys in the car. Mom saved the day.”
“Evie, can you fetch me a wire hanger?” Mr. King asked. Fetch is something you’d tell a dog to do. I’d never heard anyone ask a human being to fetch anything before. Maybe that’s what they say in England to people, and something else to dogs.
Evie went off to find a hanger and came back a couple of minutes later. “How’s this?”
“That’s perfect,” Dad said, taking it from her. We all headed outside to the truck.
“I see your keys, Dad,” Evie said.
(I guess there’s no special word that means “dad” in England, even though they say “mum” instead of “mom.”)
“I know, I see them too,” Mr. King said. I stood on my tiptoes to see, but I was still too short. Dad straightened out the wire hanger except for the hook part on top, and he jabbed it down into the bottom of the window. I waited for the door to pop open, but nothing happened. Dad pulled the hanger out and tried again. Again, nothing. It didn’t work the third or the fourth time either.
“I’m sorry, Hugh,” Dad said.
“That’s all right, mate,” Hugh said. He put a hand to his forehead and closed his eyes, like he was thinking hard. “If only the window in the back were wider, I’d crawl through it and open the door from the inside.”
I glanced over. The window in the back of the truck was the kind that slides open and shut across, not up and down. No way Mr. King could fit through it. Aside from being super tall, he had a kind of big stomach. I’m not saying that to be mean. It’s just the truth. And the window was small. Really REALLY small.
“You know,” Dad said, “I bet Stella could fit through that window.”
I wished he hadn’t said that. Now everyone would be thinking about how I was the littlest one.
Mr. King looked down at me. He seemed even taller than before. I felt even shorter.
Dad looked down at me, too. “What do you think, darling? Want to try going through the window?”
My heart started beating harder, like THUMP THUMP THUMP. The window seemed even smaller than before. Windows can’t shrink, can they? What if I got stuck halfway in and halfway out?
I thought about Superstar Sam, my favorite show. Sam’s gymnastics coach always tells her, “When the going gets tough, the tough get going.” Sam would DEFINITELY try going through the window.
“Okay,” I told Dad.
“Atta girl,” Dad said.
“Splendid,” Mr. King said.
Dad lifted me up into the back of the truck and then he climbed in after me. There were a bunch of paint cans, and other painting supplies, like those big roller brushes and a tarp. We had to climb around everything to get to the window. Dad slid the window as open as it would go. He told me to lift my arms up, like the way you do when you’re going to dive into a pool, and put them through. So I did. He held onto my legs and pushed me slowly, slowly, slowly. I guided myself with my hands, gripping the seats as I went. My side got scraped a little bit as I dropped down onto the seat.
The keys were right there on the front seat. I pulled up the little knob to unlock the door and Mr. King opened it up wide. “Well done!” he said. Mrs. King clapped her hands,and Evie did, too.
I hopped down from the front seat. Dad was back on the sidewalk and he squeezed me to him. “Good job, darling,” he said.
Mr. King pulled his wallet out of his pocket. “This deserves a reward. How about a dollar?”
“That’s not necessary, Hugh,” Dad said. “Right Stel?”
I shook my head, even though I think I really deserved the dollar because I had the scrape on my side. It was starting to hurt a little bit.
”Good things come in small packages, now don’t they?” He patted the top of my head, like I was a puppy.
“That was really amazing,” Evie said, smiling. And just like that, she started to like me.
“How about ice cream for all?” Mr. King asked.
I didn’t answer, because what if Evie still wanted to ring her friend Tesa, whatever that meant? But then Evie said, “Yes!”
So we all went. Even Mrs. King, who took a break from unpacking, and even Dad. “You can carpool to school with us if you want,” I told Evie. It was Mrs. Benson’s turn to drive to school. She’s Penny’s friend Zoey’s mom. I was sure she wouldn’t mind.
“I’ll be taking Evie on Monday,” Mrs. King said. “There are a lot of forms to fill out for the first day.”
“So you’ll see each other in school then,” Dad said.
I grinned across the table at Evie. We sure would.
CHAPTER 6
Pardon Me
Evie was going to be my new best friend! I was sure of it!
On Monday, I was the most excited I’d ever been about going to school.
Mom had Penny and me waiting by the front door at 7:55 a.m., the same as always. But Mrs. Benson didn’t get there until 8:02. How could she be late when it was SO IMPORTANT for me to be on time, or even early?
Finally she pulled up and we ran out.
“Sorry girls,” Mrs. Benson said. “It’s been one of those days. First I spilled coffee on myself, so I had to change my shirt. Then I couldn’t find my keys.”
People sure were having a lot of problems with keys.
“Buckle up,” Mrs. Benson said. “We should still make it in time.”
There are a bunch of different ways to get to school from my house. Mom always turns down Parrot Avenue because it’s shorter, and Mrs. Benson always drives up Tollridge Street because there aren’t any traffic lights. So we drove down our street and made a right at the end of the block. Then we made a left on Tollridge. Suddenly, Mrs. Benson stopped the car.
“Mo-om,” Zoey whined.
“It’s not my fault, Zo,” Mrs. Benson said. “There’s a garbage truck ahead of us.”
I didn’t say anything, even though it WAS kind of Mrs. Benson’s fault. She was the one who spilled her coffee and lost her keys. If not, she would have left her house on time and picked us up on time. We would’ve gone down the street before the garbage truck even got there, and we’d be at school by now.
I wanted to be at school BEFORE Evie got there. If it were my first day of school, I wouldn’t want to be there all alone. Maybe from now on Evie could start carpooling with us too. She didn’t live exactly on the way to school, but just a little bit out of the way is okay to drive. We have room in the car now since Willa moved away.
I tried pushing myself up in my seat, which wasn’t so easy since I was wearing a seat belt. But I wanted to see the garbage truck. Why was it taking so long to load the garbage bags in? This had to be the dirtiest street in all of Somers! I clicked my heels together three times and wished for the garbage truck people to hurry up.
By the time we got to school, Mrs. Finkel had already closed the classroom door. I hate walking into class after everyone else is already there. Actually I’ve never done it before, but whenever it happens to other kids, everyone turns to look at them.
I pushed open the door and everyone looked at me. Mrs. Finkel looked at her watch. “Did you forget to set your alarm clock?” she asked. Mrs. Finkel is the mean third-grade teacher. The nice teacher, Mrs. Bower, would probably never say something like that.
My face heated up, so I knew I was blushing. “Our car got stuck behind a garbage truck,” I told her.
“Take your seat,” Mrs. Finkel said. “We have a new student today and you missed the introduction. Evie, this is Stella Batts. Stella, this is Evie. She just moved here from Great Britain.”
Evie was in Willa’s old seat. I hated that Mrs. Finkel was mean to me in front of her, but I gave a little wave.
“We already met this weekend,” Evie said. The way she said “weekend” was like this: wee-KEND.
“I was just about to ask for a volunteer to be Evie’s buddy,” Mrs. Finkel said. “To show her around school and make sure she settles in all right. So Stella, since you already know Evie, will you be her buddy?”
I nodded. Lucy raised her hand and started talking before Mrs. Finkel even called on her. “Actually, I already told Evie I’d show her around.”
I thought Mrs. Finkel would get mad at Lucy, because technically talking before you’re called on is Disruptive Behavior, but she just said, “That’s fine.”
No, no, no!!! Wait, wait, wait!!! I wanted to be Evie’s buddy! She was supposed to be my new best friend, after all.
I didn’t say any of that out loud. I knew there wasn’t anything I could do. Mrs. Finkel started teaching. Sometimes what Penny says is really true. It’s not fair.
At snack time, I went over to Evie’s desk, just like I used to do when Willa was the one sitting there, right in between Lucy and Clark. Other kids had come over too, like Talisa and Arielle and also Joshua, the meanest boy in our whole entire class.
“Where are you from exactly?” Clark asked.
“Duh,” Joshua said. “It’s so obvious.” I don’t know why he always comes over to talk to us if he’s just going to be mean.
“No, it’s not,” Clark said. “Mrs. Finkel said Evie was from Great Britain.”
“That means London,” Joshua said.
“No,” Clark said. “Great Britain means England, Scotland, and Wales.”
“Really?” I asked. Clark always seems to know stuff like that.
“Yup.”
“My dad usually says we’re from the UK, short for the United Kingdom, which is Great Britain and Northern Ireland,” Evie said. “My mom says England. We lived in the city of London.”
“See, I told you,” Joshua said.
“I love your accent,” Talisa told Evie.
“I love yours,” Evie said.
“I don’t have an accent,” Talisa said.
“Yeah you do,” Evie said. “An American accent—the same as my mum.”
“Her mom is from Somers,” I added, just to be helpful. See, I knew things about Evie that the other kids didn’t—that’s why I should’ve been her buddy.
“Can you say something British?” Talisa asked.
“Uh, duh again,” Joshua said. “British isn’t a language.”
“Just so you know, Joshua is the class meanie, so we never listen to him,” I told Evie.
Willa would’ve said that was a mean thing for me to say, but I knew I should tell Evie even if I wasn’t her buddy, because I was her new best friend.
There was a knock on the door and we all turne
d to see who it was—Mrs. Blank from the learning lab. That’s where you go if you need extra help. Clark goes there for reading. Mrs. Blank walked over to talk to Mrs. Finkel.
“Knock knock,” Talisa said.
“Who’s there?” Evie asked.
“Orange.”
“Orange who?”
“Orange you glad you don’t have to sit next to Joshua?”
“That’s very clever,” Evie said.
“Thanks,” Talisa said. “You want to sit with me at lunch?”
“Sure.”
“And me too,” I said.
“No, she can’t,” Lucy cut in before Evie could say anything.
“Why not?” I asked. “She has two sides.”
“Yeah, but she has to sit next to me on her other side since I’m her buddy.”
“That doesn’t mean you have to sit next to her,” I said.
“That’s exactly what it means,” Lucy said.
“No,” I insisted. “You just have to show her around, and when we’re eating there won’t be anything to show her.”
“Pardon me, Stella,” Evie said. “But I think I should probably sit next to Lucy.”
Mrs. Finkel clapped her hands, which meant it was the part of snack time when we had to sit at our desks.
I raised my hand and Mrs. Finkel called on me. “Can I go to the bathroom?” I asked. I didn’t really have to go. I just wanted to be alone. Mrs. Finkel nodded at me. As I walked out the door, she called Evie up to her desk so she could introduce her to Mrs. Blank.
The girls’ bathroom is at the end of the hall. I pulled the door open and went into one of the stalls, closed the lid and sat down. Minutes passed, and then I heard the door open and someone’s footsteps. I stood up and flushed the toilet, because that’s what you’re supposed to do when you’re in the bathroom. But I didn’t want to leave the stall, so I just sat back down again.
“Hello? Stella?”
It was Arielle’s voice. I could tell because it was super soft. But part of wanting to be alone means you don’t want to talk to anyone, so I didn’t answer. Snack time had to be over by now. What was she doing in the bathroom anyway?
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