As for the other question about Starla, she’s mainly a secret from Dad, like I said. He thinks it’s bad enough that we talk at the Coffee Cup. I could never let him know that I go over to her apartment all the time. And since Dad sometimes stops in at the Coffee Cup for coffee (duh, what else?), a bunch of the workers know him, know me, know Starla. So I have to be very careful about visiting her. I’m afraid Dad’s going to find out someday. He’d be furious—and I wouldn’t even have done anything wrong!
To change the subject: What’s going to happen after Pat has her baby? I don’t know exactly, but believe me, it will NOT involve my taking care of the baby. That’s Pat’s job. My grandparents have made that very clear.
As for Chris and why she’s mean to me, the answer is: I’m not sure. She doesn’t like me. That is for sure. But I don’t really know why. She’s jealous and she tries to sabotage me so that she can look better than me, or at least so that I won’t look so good. And I know she hates it when I win awards. Also, I’m the youngest, so maybe she thinks she can pick on me. I guess I’m an easy target because I don’t fight back.
You know why I don’t fight back? I tell myself it’s because it isn’t worth it, that one day I’m going to be out of here. I’ll get to college (somehow) and find a job and never look back. But the truth is, I’m a little afraid of Chris. Which is why I can understand what Starla did. I understand about needing to leave.
Sorry to sound so negative. Anyway, can you see why I like the peace of Starla’s apartment, where nobody criticizes me and (more important) somebody thinks I’m wonderful and believes in me?
Okay. It’s really late. I’m writing this by flashlight in bed and Ava is telling me that the light is keeping her up, which is a lie, but I’d better stop here.
Love,
Jennifer
P.S. I’m enclosing two examples from my bad hairdo photo collection. You can keep them.
November 15
Dear Jennifer,
1. I think you’re wonderful.
2. I believe in you.
3. I’m glad we’re friends.
Love,
Allie
November 19
Dear Allie,
Thank you. I saved the note with your letters in a tin box under my bed. I’ve taken the note out and reread it twice so far—once when Chris called me Pinocchio and once when she laughed at a poem I’d written (which she found by snooping in my private stuff). Maybe the next poem I write will be about a pig named Chris. Ha, ha.
Love,
Jennifer
November 22, Thanksgiving
Dear Jennifer,
I have so many things to say that I don’t know where to begin. First of all, as you know, I’ve been saving your letters too. Yesterday I made a folder for them and I got out my scrapbooking stuff and decorated the folder with ribbons and stickers. I glued your school picture in the center and stamped FRIENDSHIP under it.
One of the many good things about your letters is that I can take them with me wherever I go . . . which is important, since my parents have decided that we’re going to move to Rhode Island. Right after Christmas. You’ll be coming with me, but I’ll have to leave my other friends behind.
I can’t believe it. I’m so sad that now I don’t think I can finish this letter after all. I guess I’ll have to tell you the rest of the story later.
Love,
Allie
November 22
Dear Allie,
Happy Thanksgiving! You know how most people celebrate the holiday with turkey and stuffing and gravy, the family all seated around a big table? Guess how we celebrated today. Eating cheese sandwiches in a hospital waiting room while Pat had her baby. Yup, it finally happened. Savion Isaiah arrived this morning. He only weighed six pounds and he needed oxygen at first and I’m sorry to have to report this, but he is UG-LEE. He’s doing okay now, though, and so is Pat, but believe me, you’ve never heard so much shrieking. The nurse would say, “Push!” and Pat would go, “AUGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!” like in a horror movie. There was sort of a lot of blood too. I don’t think I’ll ever get pregnant myself, not in a million years. But Pat looked down at that ugly squirming thing in her lap and said she was in love with it. Savion’s father, Brandon, doesn’t seem quite as enthusiastic. He left us all at the hospital about an hour after Savion was born, roaring off on his ridiculous motorcycle, and making me gladder than ever that I have set aside Pat’s $$ for diapers, etc. I’ll give it back to her a week or so after she and Savion come home from the hospital and the expenses start piling up. I don’t think Pat will be tempted to give any of it to Brandon by then.
So, can you believe it? I have a new cousin. A cousin once removed, I guess, even though Savion feels more like a nephew. I have one or two nights left in the bottom bunk and then I’ll switch to the cot. And Squally Redface will take up residence in the next room with Pat.
How was your Thanksgiving?
Love,
Jennifer
November 23
Dear Jennifer,
I guess I’ll try to finish yesterday’s letter. I’m so upset that I can hardly concentrate on anything. Anyway, here’s what happened: Mom and Dad and Missy and Justin and I had just sat down to Thanksgiving dinner—only the five of us this year, no relatives or neighbors or “stray” friends (Dad’s term) because that would have been too expensive—and we had said grace over the food, which included the puniest turkey I’ve ever seen, when Mom, looking all bright and cheery, stood up and said, “I have an announcement to make.”
Now, given what’s been going on in our family, and also the fact that she was grinning away, wouldn’t you have expected her to say that she or Dad had gotten a job? Especially since she had waited until a festive family gathering to make the announcement? Well, I did. So you can imagine my surprise when she said, “We’re moving to Rhode Island.”
There was a clunk then as Missy, Justin, and I all dropped our forks at the same time. (Justin’s fell on the floor and Beauty scarfed up the piece of turkey that had been attached to it.)
“What?” shrieked Missy, and then she began to cry, which is what I wanted to do, but since I’m the oldest I thought I should set an example of bravery for my sister and brother.
Well, anyway, the short version of this story is that Mom and Dad don’t have any job leads and they can’t afford the rent on our house if they aren’t working, so we’re going to R.I. to live with Mom’s parents. That way, Mom and Dad can take their time finding work because they won’t have to worry about paying bills for a while. They had paid our rent through December 31st, though, so we’ll have one more Christmas in our house and then we’ll move.
Jennifer, I’m just so upset. I’ve never lived anywhere but here. I don’t want to leave all my friends behind. I don’t know anyone in R.I. except Granny and Grandpa. It was bad enough having to switch schools, but moving AWAY? Plus, Missy and I will probably wind up sharing a room with Justin—a SECOND-GRADER. How am I going to get through this?
Love,
Allie
November 26
Dear Allie,
You’ll get through it. Partly because you have to, and partly because I think you’re the kind of person who’ll make friends pretty easily. I know you don’t want to leave Lucinda and move into a house that will be crowded, but you do what you have to do. Take it from someone who knows. Pat and Savion the Howler, aka Squally Redface, are home and Chris has set up camp with Ava and me, and I am TRYING to find some peace and privacy, but I mostly only find it at Starla’s place.
By the way, last night Pat was moaning about the cost of diapers (what a surprise) and I handed her the envelope with her $$ in it and she said, “Where did this come from?” and I was like, “I just found it. Under the couch.” She squinted at me because she didn’t believe me, but when she counted the $$ and found every penny there, she could hardly accuse me of stealing it. So now the $$ will be put to good use.
But back to you, Allie. I�
�m really sorry about what’s happening. I know you wish everything in your life could stay the same—I mean, the same as it was a few months ago. Here’s one thing that won’t change: me. We can be pen pals wherever we live, and have our “letter visits” forever—until we’re little old ladies. Okay?
Lots of Love,
Jennifer
December 1
Dear Jennifer,
Thank you for your letter. Guess what. You’re the first person I told my news to. I didn’t even tell Lucinda until two days after Thanksgiving. (She cried, by the way, which made me cry, and then we couldn’t eat the popcorn we’d just made.) I felt better after reading your letter. I really appreciate all the things you said. And yes, I hope we’re pen pals forever—unless one day we actually meet and then we settle down in the same town and become next-door neighbors and can be regular pals instead of pen pals.
So Squally Redface has arrived! I laughed out loud when I read that name. But I feel so bad that you feel out of place in your own home. That isn’t fair. By the way, I want you to know that I may complain, and I may be afraid about moving, not to mention sharing a room with Justin in addition to Missy, but mostly I know how lucky I am. You’re right. I do wish nothing had to change. Still, I’m really grateful for my family and you and my other friends and my brother and sister and cat and dogs and ferret and grandparents. I know everything will be okay eventually.
XXXOOO
Allie
December 8
Dear Jennifer,
Is everything all right? I have a feeling maybe things aren’t so good at your house. Please write when you have a chance. I miss hearing from you.
Love,
Allie
December 11
Dear Allie,
Starla is gone. I don’t know what to do.
Love,
Jennifer
December 12
Dear Allie,
Sorry I sent that letter yesterday. I guess I felt like you did when you found out you were moving. I just can’t believe Starla’s gone, but she is. And now I have no one to escape to and no place to escape to. But much worse than that—I don’t even know if Starla’s okay.
This is what happened: I hadn’t seen Starla in a few days, so finally I got up the nerve to ask the manager of the Coffee Cup if she knew where she was, and she said she hadn’t been showing up for work, and in fact, if I found her to tell her she was fired. (Yeah, right.) So I went to her apartment and she didn’t answer the bell. I sat in the hall and waited for an hour until the super happened to come along. He said Starla had packed up and moved out a couple of days earlier. He didn’t know why. And he didn’t know where she had gone. And I have no idea how to look for her. She didn’t leave a forwarding address, and she doesn’t have a cell phone, and anyway, I have this feeling that maybe she doesn’t want to be found. But what do you think could have happened? I hope wherever she is she found a good job. And nice people. And that her dream of going to cosmetology school will come true. I hope she left for a good reason, and I hope she’s all right. But I wish she had said good-bye.
Love,
Jennifer
December 15
Dear Jennifer,
Oh, no. I’m so sorry. I can’t believe your letter.
Listen, you have to promise me something. Promise me that you’ll find—somewhere—the peace and privacy you used to find at Starla’s. You need that.
How can I help you?
Love,
Allie
P.S. I know Starla was your best friend, but remember that I’m your friend too.
December 18
Dear Allie,
Thanks. And Merry Christmas. You’ve been a very good friend.
Love,
Jennifer
December 21
Dear Jennifer,
You sounded kind of like you were saying good-bye in your last letter. Were you? Please don’t stop writing. You can’t stop now. I mean, we can’t. We’re forever friends. And our stories aren’t over. Please, please, please, please write back. But in case I don’t hear from you for a while, Merry Christmas to you too.
Oh, and from now on you’ll have to send your letters to me at home, not through Mr. Jessop, obviously. I’m going to write my new address on a card that you can keep in your purse or your notebook or someplace safe—maybe with your bad hairdo photo collection. Don’t lose it!
And PLEASE WRITE BACK.
Love,
Allie
December 24
Dear Allie,
You won’t believe what’s been happening! I can’t even believe it. Actually, two things have happened, both good. Now, before you get your hopes up . . . No, Starla is not back, and I haven’t heard from her.
Anyway—well, I know this is really silly, but because I’ve been feeling desperate, a few days ago I made a wish on a star. At least I think it was a star. It could have been a very slow-moving plane, but whatever it was, I wished on it. And due to my desperation, I made three wishes. I wished that Starla would show up, I wished that Dad would sell an invention, and I wished that my grandmother would finally win the lottery, since she’s been buying tickets since before I was born. I don’t know how stars (or planes) work, but two of my wishes did not come true, one did, and something really great that I hadn’t dared to wish for has also happened. I suppose I could make you guess about the wishes, like I did with Pat and Chris, but I’m not going to do that. Here’s the wish breakdown:
1. Starla did not show up. (You already knew that.)
2. Dad did not sell an invention.
3. But my grandmother did win the lottery!!!!!! All right, she only won $325, and over the years she must have spent thousands of bucks on tickets, but believe me, we can use $325 right before Christmas, so that wish came true!
Now for the wish that I didn’t make on the star/plane that came true anyway. Are you ready? Hold on to your hat, as my dad would say. . . . On the last day of school before vacation, Ms. Dennis asked me to see her during lunch period. When I went to her office, she looked all serious and she told me to take a seat. I was starting to get nervous, but guess what she said. She said, “Jennifer, you are hands-down my best student this year, and one of the top students in the school. Have you given any thought to next year?” She meant was I going to apply to any of the special high schools in Castleton. They’re public schools, but you have to do all sorts of things to get into them, and I hadn’t dared to ask my father for help. He’s no good at that sort of thing, and it would have made him anxious. I had just assumed I’d go to the local high school (think metal detectors, broken windows, library closed due to water damage, etc.) and work as hard as I could.
But Ms. Dennis says she knows I can get into any high school I want, and she’s going to help me! She’s going to find out when the tests are, and get applications for me, and even drive me to interviews. Isn’t that amazing? This really is my dream come true.
I’m so happy that I don’t care about Squally Redface (he has the healthiest set of lungs in Castleton) or having Chris crammed into our bedroom or . . . well, I was about to add “Starla,” but that wouldn’t have been true. I do care about Starla. And I miss her. But I’m trying to focus on Ms. Dennis’s news, and Christmas.
Sorry this letter was once again all about me. That doesn’t mean I haven’t been thinking about you. Please let me know how your Christmas is. And how the move goes. I guess the next letter you write will be from your grandparents’ house. Tell me all the news! I can’t wait to hear it.
Lots of Love,
Your Forever Friend, Jennifer
January 18
Dear Jennifer,
I hate it here.
Love,
Allie
January 23
Dear Allie,
Now that is not a proper letter. Mr. Jessop would be appalled. You know I need more news than that. I’m sorry things are bad. (You have to tell me why, exactly, you hate Rhode Island.) But remember that t
hings are never going to be all good. For instance, I’ve been on two school interviews (very good), but I still have to face Chris every day and we’re all being awakened all night long by Squally Redface. And Starla is not back. But I’m so excited about school next year that that’s really the only thing I can think about.
So come on. In your next letter I dare you to tell me three things you’re grateful for.
Love,
Jennifer
P.S. Remember when I told you that I used to wish for a best friend, and then I met Starla? Well, Starla may be gone, but I know I can always visit with you.
February 2
Dear Jennifer,
Happy Groundhog Day!
Okay, you’re right. Things are never going to be all good. But thanks to your dare, I can list more than three things I’m grateful for. Here goes:
1. I’m grateful that I’m not in my old school where the kids (except for Lucinda) were treating Missy and Justin and me like something disgusting you’d want to avoid on the sidewalk.
2. I’m grateful to have a fresh start. (I guess that’s actually part of #1.)
3. I’m grateful to my grandparents for letting us move in with them.
4. I’m grateful that the groundhog did not see his shadow this morning, which for some weird reason means that spring is on the way.
5. And, thinking over what you said in your last letter, I’m grateful to Mr. Jessop because if he hadn’t come up with his pen pal assignment, you and I wouldn’t be friends. (I almost can’t imagine that, can you?)
A couple of months ago you said you knew I wished everything could stay the same, but guess what? I don’t wish that anymore. I miss our house and living in the country, but there are a lot of things I don’t miss, and even better, there are a lot of things I’m looking forward to. Not long after I told you I hate it here, my new homeroom teacher announced that we’re going to spend this semester raising money for a weekend trip to a beach in Connecticut where we’ll do a project on ecology. (Yippee! Collecting money! My favorite thing.) Also, there’s this really cute boy in my math class. His name is Sean and, well, I’ll keep you posted. I think he’s noticed me.
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