“What do you think is better?” I ask her. “A weekend birthday because you don’t have school or a weekday birthday because you do have school and your friends can decorate your locker and stuff?”
She pauses to think. “I don’t know, actually. I guess both are good.”
“Yeah, I think it’s good if they alternate. You don’t want a weekday birthday every year, ya know,” I tell her.
“Totally,” she agrees.
“You just reminded me—I gotta practice for the talent show. Got any clementines?”
“What?”
“That’s my act for the talent show. You didn’t know?”
“Peeling clementines?” She cracks up. “Okay, I knew. I was trying to pretend I didn’t. I don’t know why—”
“Do you have any?”
“Yeah, let’s go downstairs.” We walk into the kitchen and she grabs the crate off the kitchen counter. “Knock yourself out,” she says.
I’ve never really understood that expression, but her dad says it all the time.
“My act is clementine peeling and singing,” I explain. “Please get a stopwatch.”
“I’ll use my phone.” She gets it out of her pocket and rolls her eyes at me. “Is that okay?”
I nod.
“Ready?” she asks.
“Ready!”
I complete the peel in nine seconds and keep it all in one piece.
“Impressive,” Ari says. “How many are you gonna do?”
“As many as I can while singing a short song,” I say, and then I come up with a genius idea. “Hey! Why don’t you be my assistant? You can be the person who hands me the clementines!”
She clenches her teeth together. “I don’t know. . . .”
“Why not?” I take another and practice my peeling and eating.
She eats one, too. “I don’t like to be onstage. You know that.”
“But all you have to do is hand me clementines. It’ll be so funny.”
“I’ll think about it, okay?”
“Okay.” I need to back off and not pressure her. I can’t expect Ari to always do whatever I need her to do, without thinking of her feelings. She gets agita, too; I know that now.
A big part of friendship is meeting people on their terms, I’m realizing, and not expecting them to be someone they’re not.
Just because you’re BFFs with someone doesn’t mean you’re exactly the same as they are.
And that’s okay.
That’s probably better, actually.
FORTY-THREE
“I’LL DO IT,” ARI SAYS, startling me at our lockers the next morning. She’s not back to taking the bus yet, and she’s not offering me rides, either. I guess it takes time to get back to where you were before a fight, but the fact that we’re talking again makes everything feel safe and exciting all at the same time.
I whip around. “Huh?”
“I’ll help you with your act in the talent show,” she says. “I thought about it, and I think it’ll be fun.”
I bounce on my toes. “Really? Yay!”
She looks a little confused that I’m this excited but proud, too.
“Really. Let’s meet after school and practice,” she says. “I want to make sure I know what to do and everything. Okay?”
I nod. “Sounds good.”
Marie meets Ari at her locker, and they walk arm in arm together down the B corridor to history.
Half of me stings with jealousy. I don’t like that Ari is walking arm in arm with Marie. But the other half of me doesn’t feel jealous at all. I mean, they have class together—why shouldn’t they go together?
I push the jealous half away like a disgusting cafeteria lunch, and focus on the nice side.
Maybe that’s the most important thing to do, the most important thing to remember: focus on the nice.
I walk down the A corridor to math, feeling pretty great about everything, when I run into Tyler in the hallway. We’ve been ignoring each other since the whole discussion after the party. And he’s never at our house hanging out with Ryan anymore.
I plan to just keep walking and ignore him, but then he stops me. “Hey, Kaylan,” he says.
“Hey,” I mumble. “I’m late, and I need to get to class.”
“I just wanted to say that, um, I’m sorry about stuff, and I’ll see you at your party,” he says. “Maybe you’ll give me a second chance?”
My heart starts pounding so fast and so loud that I’m debating a trip to the nurse and maybe even the hospital.
I stand there, still, in the middle of the hallway, like I’ve stepped in a barrel of bubble gum and can’t move.
“Will you at least think about it?” he asks, before I’ve said anything else.
“Uh, okay.”
Why did I just say okay? I have no idea. I don’t want to give Tyler another chance. I like Jason. But when Tyler talks, he throws me for a loop, and I can’t say anything. I don’t know why he has this power over me. I don’t even like him anymore!
“I’ll see you at the rehearsal,” he says, smiling.
I nod and mumble out a “bye,” and force myself to keep walking to class.
Ari invited Tyler and didn’t even tell me? I don’t understand what’s happening here. I explained the whole situation; she should have mentioned it.
When I get to class, all I can think about is the Tyler situation and how I can disinvite him to the party. He’s like this little bug that keeps buzzing by my eye. I swat him away, but then he just buzzes right back.
FORTY-FOUR
I GET TO LUNCH AND grab Ari by the arm before she gets on the line for the salad bar.
“What?” she screeches. “I’m hungry.”
“Tyler. Our party. Hello?”
“Hello what?” She looks at me like I have seven heads.
“Hello, he said he’ll see me at the party, and he wants a second chance. And I don’t want to give him a second chance. And hello—” I nudge my head toward the back of the cafeteria to where Jason is sitting. “Jason! My first kiss. The boy I like. The one who will also be at the party.”
Ari puts her hands on my shoulders, probably in an effort to get me to shut up. “Calm down.”
“I. Cannot. Calm. Down.” I breathe in and breathe out and then breathe in and breathe out.
“I invited him before I knew what had happened,” Ari explains. “I thought I was doing you a favor because of your massive crush.” She bulges her eyes at me, and pulls my arm, and leads me out of the cafeteria.
When we’re safe in the quiet of the hallway she says, “Well, we can’t disinvite him now,” she says. “Or is it uninvite? I don’t know.”
“I don’t know either.” I fold my arms across my chest. “I’ll just say that I think we’re better off as friends, and I kind of like someone else now, and maybe he’ll feel so embarrassed that he won’t even want to come.”
“Good. Go for it.” Ari nods with encouragement. “Can we go eat lunch now?”
I shrug. “Sure.”
“I’m going to have to tell him he’s no longer welcome at the party,” I whisper to Ari as we’re walking back in. I hate to whisper in front of other people; they’ll think it’s about them.
“Kaylan, I know you’re stressing,” she says. “But I’m starving and I need to review the vocabulary words before the test. Let’s discuss it this afternoon when no one else is around.”
Jason finds me on the hot lunch line. He puts an arm around me, and then pulls it away, and then puts it back like he can’t decide what to do. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” I say.
“Doesn’t seem like it,” he says, grabbing a tray.
“It’s a long story,” I explain, while the lunch lady gives me some baked ziti.
Jason waits for me to start telling the long story, but instead I stay quiet. My stomach flips around and I’m not sure I’ll be able to eat this ziti. It’s really hard to tell someone you don’t want to give them another chance.
The thing is, Tyler isn’t very nice, but I still don’t want to hurt his feelings.
It’s weird when you realize stuff like that. I always expect that I’ll want revenge and I’ll want to get back at people. Those who make others suffer should suffer themselves. Stuff like that.
But when it comes down to it, I really don’t want to. I don’t want to hurt Tyler’s feelings.
I tell Jason I’ll try to explain later, hoping he’ll simply forget about it.
“See you in astronomy,” he says.
Then I go back to my lunch table. Jason’s sitting with his other lunch table today, Andre and those boys.
June, Cami, and Saara are eating their salads and studying for the science test at the same time. Ari, Marie, Sydney, and M.W. are talking about trying out for the tennis team in the spring. But I don’t feel like joining that conversation; I don’t even play tennis.
I sit there at the table, forcing down bites of baked ziti.
I’ll talk to Tyler after lunch. He eats next period, so there’s a good chance I’ll see him. I’ll tap him on the shoulder and explain everything, and that way if he’s really upset, he’ll have the whole lunch period to feel better.
Mr. Nowdon stands up in front of the cafeteria, trying to get our attention. I didn’t even think we were that loud today, so I don’t know why we’re getting in trouble.
“Quiet please. Quiet please,” he says. “Just an announcement for everyone in the talent show. Reminder that the final run-through will be today after school.”
I tap Ari’s hand across the table.
“I forgot it was today! We won’t have time to go over the act before the run-through,” I tell her. “But really, all you’re doing is handing me clementines. I think you can handle it.”
“I think so, too.” She smiles and I’m relieved. For a moment I thought she was going to get all weird and freaked out about it.
“So you get that you’re going to be doing this in front of a lot of people, right?” I ask her.
“Yeah, Kaylan, calm down.” She shakes her head. “It’s gonna be great. You’ll be there with me.”
FORTY-FIVE
AFTER SCHOOL, WE ALL GATHER in the auditorium for the talent show run-through. Ari and I sit in the front row waiting for everything to start. She taps my knee every three seconds asking me about everyone’s acts.
“It’s so fun to have you here,” I say. “Like, none of this felt as exciting when I was doing it alone. But now that you’re here—it’s like a big moment. Like something I’ll remember forever.”
She smiles. “I know what you mean. Things are just better when we’re together.” Ari grabs my hand and we sit there like that for a few seconds until we look at each other and say “this is weird” at the same exact second and crack up.
I didn’t see Tyler before his lunch, and when I hear him and his boys coming in to the auditorium, I try not to notice. I try not to pay attention. But it’s hard. His voice is so loud, and they’re constantly high-fiving each other.
How can that many things be high-five-worthy?
Finally, Mrs. Bellinsky comes to the microphone. “Does anyone have any changes to their acts?”
I raise my hand. “Arianna here, my BFF”—I point to her next to me, and she waves—“is going to be my assistant and hand me the clementines.”
“Lovely. Noted.” Mrs. Bellinsky looks down at her clipboard, and then calls on the next person.
“I would’ve done that for you,” a voice behind me says.
Tyler.
I turn around. I had no idea he was so close to us. I say, “Yeah, well, thanks so much. But also, no thanks.”
He rolls his lips together. “Kaylan, you can just tell me to my face you don’t like me. A million girls in this school want to go out with me,” he says.
My throat burns. There are kids in the seats around us, and they’re all hearing this. “First of all, there aren’t a million girls in this school. You’re really bad at math,” I reply. It’s the only thing I could think to say. “But must be nice to think so many girls like you.”
“It is nice for me,” he answers. “You’re dumb not to realize how awesome I am.”
My whole body clenches in disgust. Who does Tyler think he is? Clearly someone great, I guess, even though he’s the opposite. I’m mad at myself for ever liking him at all!
Ari nudges me with her shoulder, so I turn to face her. She opens her mouth, and puts her finger toward it, the universal symbol for about to barf.
I almost crack up, but then I see Tyler again and I want to scream at him, tell him he’s a jerk and a bully, and I don’t care. That I’m not dumb.
But instead, I just sit there for a second, and then Ari and I get up and walk away.
He doesn’t even deserve a response.
Back at my house after the run-through, Ari and I are up in my room, trying on different outfits for the party.
“You rocked it today,” I tell her.
“Thanks, Kay, but really—all I’m doing is handing you clementines.” She spins around to show me how much her skirt twirls.
“I know. I know. But it’s great!”
I’m trying to compliment her; I wish she could see that.
“I can’t believe Tyler said all those things,” she says, admiring the way my shimmery skirt fits her.
“I’m over it,” I tell her. For a second I wonder if I’m just saying that, but then I know that I actually feel nothing when I think about him. Not anger, not love, not that pitter-patter-heart feeling. Nothing. I know I’m over it. I’m over Tyler.
I’ve heard Mrs. Etisof say many times that people will show you their true colors again and again, but sometimes it takes a while to really see them, to really believe them.
I’m glad I can see it now.
“Your brother isn’t friends with him anymore, is he?” Ari asks.
“No. I don’t really get what was going on,” I explain. “Maybe he was always a jerk, and I just didn’t realize it. Like maybe he was a jerk that was only nice to me. . . . Ya know?”
Ari sits up and puts down the mirror. “How are things with your brother?” she asks. “You guys are getting along again?”
I nod. “Yeah. Pretty much. I mean, he can still be a doofus sometimes.”
Ari replies, “All boys can be a doofus sometimes.”
“Would the plural be doofuses? Or doofi?” I ask and then we both start cracking up, completely cracking up. We’re like that for a while, laughing about something so silly until our stomachs hurt.
Our phones buzz at the same time. “Text from Jason,” I say, looking at my phone first.
Party prep? Talent show prep? SO MUCH PREP.
What r u guys doing?
“We should tell him it’s girl time, so he doesn’t expect to be invited over,” I suggest. “Or will that make him feel bad?”
She stops to think for a second. “Let’s give him a job for the party, so he feels needed,” she says. “What could it be?”
“Doofus detector,” I suggest. “If someone starts acting like a doofus at the party, he has to tell us!”
Ari falls back on my bed in a laughing fit. “No! That’s too silly.”
“Chip refiller? He keeps an extra eye on chip bowls, and has to refill immediately!” I laugh through my words.
“No, no,” she says, still giggling. “Something he can do now, goofbrain!”
“Oh!” I do a little dance. “He can make a playlist!”
Kaylan: Can you make a playlist for the party? Think pool Freeze Dance songs . . .
Ari: But make it better. Okay? Thanks!
Jason: On it!
We fall back on the bed, laughing, about nothing, really.
Even though things have changed a little, we can still laugh even about the most ridiculous things.
I overheard my mom on the phone once. She was talking to her best friend, Gwen. They’ve known each other since eighth grade, but Gwen lives in Canada no
w, and they don’t see each other so much.
Anyway, my mom said something like, “It’s over when the laughing stops. That’s how you know.”
I think she was talking about Gwen’s new boyfriend, but I could be wrong.
It stayed with me. I don’t remember when Mom and Dad’s laughing stopped, but maybe it’s better that I can’t remember. If there was one moment, I’d replay it over and over again, trying to figure out what we could have done differently to make sure the laughing continued.
The thing I know for sure: mine and Ari’s laughing hasn’t stopped. I have a feeling that thirty years from now, we’ll still be laughing together.
FORTY-SIX
I CAN’T DECIDE IF I want next week to fly by so that we can get to the talent show and our birthday party, or if I want it to slow down because I’m actually pretty nervous about the talent show and the birthday party. I’m not even going to think about Halloween. I’m so glad my lunch table decided not to dress up this year.
The thing about time, though, is that it doesn’t really matter if you want it to go fast or if you want it to go slow. It’ll go however it’s going to go.
The school week goes medium fast, and we finally decide on outfits for the party.
Ari’s borrowing my frayed-edges jean skirt and my sparkly black tank top. I’m borrowing her black dress with the cutout shoulders and her knee-high boots.
It feels more exciting to wear your BFF’s clothes.
We finally make it to Friday, my birthday. June, Cami, Saara, and Ari decorated my locker with wrapping paper and ribbons.
I’m organizing my books for the day when I feel Jason come up behind me. He puts his hands on my shoulders, and starts to give me a massage.
It sends shivers down my back, but not in a good way.
I start to wonder if I’m losing interest in Jason. We had the whole awkward-first-kiss thing, and then we were going to have a redo, but it hasn’t happened yet.
Maybe we’ve waited too long.
Maybe if a first kiss is awkward, it’s a sign that the relationship won’t work out. Maybe he is just a friend.
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