by Cari Simmons
“I know.”
“I didn’t mean any of it,” I said.
“I know.” She turned to Avani. “This is Molly Larsen.”
“Hey!” I greeted Avani.
“We need to get inside,” Roseann said. “Avani, you’re going to love our school. And definitely sit with me tomorrow at lunch.”
Relief flooded Avani’s face. “Are you sure?”
“Sure I’m sure. You look like you could use a friend at lunch. Maybe we even have a class together. Let’s go see.” Roseann ushered her through the door.
I stayed behind on the pathway, going over Roseann’s offer to Avani. The same offer she had made to me when I didn’t have a partner in social studies that scary first day. Did Roseann do this because of the green star on her sweater? Or was she just kind?
I hoped it was the latter, but I decided I didn’t care.
Roseann and I would never be the best of friends. I could finally see that now. I’d had to work way too hard. I wasn’t upset, though. Not at Roseann. She gave me a group and a place to sit at lunch, which was a big deal. If I was upset at anyone, it was myself. Why had I thought I could plan a friendship? Friendship should just happen, without steps and strategy sessions.
I had to tell Eden. Our plan had been flawed from the very beginning.
I hoisted my duffel onto one shoulder and my book bag onto the other as I spotted Mom’s gray car pull in with Alex at the wheel. He slowed, then stopped at the curb. I reached for the door handle.
Chrissy Bleeker sat in the passenger seat.
I whirled around to look for Roseann. Were we taking her home too?
She wasn’t outside. Why was beautiful, popular Chrissy in my shy, awkward brother’s car?
Chrissy rolled down her window, and Alex called, “You coming or what?”
“Hi, Molly,” Chrissy greeted me. Like her sister, she wore a preppy pink sweater, and her hair hung over one shoulder in a long, loose braid.
I slid into the backseat and eyed Chrissy uncertainly.
Alex reached to shift the gears into drive and slyly touched Chrissy’s hand. She didn’t flinch or jerk away. Instead, she smiled at him.
“Okay, what’s going on?” I demanded.
“What do you mean?” Alex pulled away from the curb, both hands now firmly on the wheel.
I poked my body forwards, stretching my head in between them. “Where are we taking Chrissy?”
“Alex is giving me a ride home,” Chrissy said.
“But first we’re driving you to the airport,” Alex added. “I can’t believe you’re going. We just got here.”
“You’re coming with us to the airport?” I asked Chrissy.
Her cheeks turned faintly pink. “If that’s okay. Alex and I were going to grab something to eat after we bring you to the gate.”
“Hey, maybe we’ll fly off somewhere. You know, pick a random place,” Alex joked to Chrissy.
“I pick Paris. Do you like Paris?” Chrissy asked.
“Yeah, sure, totally,” Alex replied. “I’d go there.”
“You’re not going to Paris,” I told him.
“You never know.” Alex’s goofy grin was back. “Maybe we’ll fly off. Travel the world. Eat foreign foods.”
Chrissy smiled at him, as if he were saying something really funny. She liked him!
“Is this a date?” I demanded. “Did you make my airport drop-off into a first date?”
“Ignore her,” Alex told Chrissy.
“It’s not a first date,” Chrissy admitted quietly.
“Whoa!” I widened my eyes at Alex. “So you two? When?”
“We met first at the library. He was studying at a table next to mine. We talked some more that day he picked you up at the park,” Chrissy supplied. “Then we got together at the library a bunch of times after that.”
“I thought you were going there to study!” I swatted Alex’s shoulder.
“I was helping Chrissy with world history.” Alex smiled broadly now.
“Your brother’s supersmart.” Chrissy smiled back at him.
“Eyes on the road,” I reminded my brother. Settling back, I couldn’t get over that Alex had found a girlfriend. Not any girlfriend, but Chrissy Bleeker! I’d never seen him so happy.
If I hadn’t gone after Roseann to be my friend, I realized, Alex might never have met Chrissy on the field hockey sidelines. Pretty cool!
“Don’t ever complain about driving me again,” I teased him. “I got you two together.”
“Did I complain today? I’m driving you all the way to Newark airport!” Nothing would shatter Alex’s good mood now that Chrissy sat by his side.
Chrissy fiddled with the radio, and I stayed silent for a while, thinking.
“Alex,” I said, suddenly making up my mind, “I don’t want to go.”
“What?”
“It’s too soon,” I said.
“So no airport?” he asked, gazing at me in the rearview mirror. “Are you sure?”
“No airport,” I agreed. “Not this weekend. Maybe next month.”
Visiting Arizona happy instead of escaping there because I was sad would be so much better, I realized. I was just beginning to figure out my world here.
“Mom and Dad are going to be surprised,” Alex said.
“Eden too,” I added.
“Got to make a U-turn.” Alex switched lanes. “Sorry, Chrissy, we can’t do Paris today.”
“That’s okay. I have a field hockey game tonight anyway. There’s a crepe place in the strip mall by Andover Boulevard,” she said. “We could do that. It’s kind of like Paris, if you don’t sit by the window and see the parking lot.”
“I love crepes,” Alex said.
I snorted. My brother had never eaten a crepe in his life.
“I’m dropping you home, Molly. You need to call Mom and Dad,” Alex said.
“About that.” I popped my head between Alex and Chrissy again. “Andover Boulevard is near Top Flight, right? How about you drop me off at the gym instead?”
“You’re going back there?” Alex sounded surprised.
“There’s something I need to do.”
“I’m not a taxi service.” Alex’s grumbling had returned. “I’m taking you home. Chrissy and I are going out.”
“Pretty please?” I begged.
“Why don’t you drop her off and then pick her up after we have our crepes?” Chrissy suggested.
“Okay, fine,” Alex agreed. Anything for Chrissy!
“Thank you,” I mouthed to her. A girlfriend for Alex would be good for me too, I decided. Especially a girlfriend as nice as Chrissy.
I waited by the door with the sign TOP FLIGHT GYMNASTICS until Alex and Chrissy drove off. Once I was sure they were out of sight, I shouldered my duffel bag and walked across the parking lot.
I wasn’t going back to Andre’s gym. My good-bye yesterday had been final.
At the opposite end of the huge warehouse building, I found what I was looking for. Another door.
Another door with a small sign.
TOP FLIGHT CHEER.
I pulled open the door and stepped inside. The roar of the cheerleaders was deafening and thrilling. For a moment, I hung back, taking it all in. The bright lights. The tumbling. The stunts. The formations. The excitement.
“Move on up . . . up to the top . . . move on up . . .” A familiar chant started nearby. A group of girls my age stood in a line, clapping and stomping their feet to the rhythm. The tall cheer coach rapped her hand against a clipboard to keep the beat. She wore the same orange warm-up jacket.
I hummed along without realizing it. Then I began to chant too. “Move on up . . . up to the top.”
Shrimp stood at the end of the line. When she spotted me, she snuck a wave with her pinkie. The cheer coach caught her. She turned towards the door and noticed me.
Oh no! This wasn’t such a good idea, I thought. I didn’t want to get Shrimp in trouble.
“Hello again.”
The coach came to stand in front of me. “Using the front door today, I see.”
“Yeah.” I craned my neck to look up at her, realizing how truly tall she was. “I didn’t mean to bother anyone.”
“One more time, girls,” she called over her shoulder when the cheering stopped. She completely blocked my view of Shrimp. “No red leotard, either.”
“Nope.” I wasn’t going to say anything more, but then I noticed the skin around her eyes crinkling as she smiled down at me. My mom’s eyes did that too. “That gym wasn’t the right place for me,” I blurted out. “I’m done. Well, if my mom can get her money back.”
“Want to try some pom-poms today? We’ve got a spare pair. One size fits all.”
“Really? Yes!” I beamed up at her. “Cheering looks like so much fun.”
“Fun, sure. Hard work, definitely.”
“When something’s hard, I work harder,” I promised.
“My kind of girl! What’s your name?”
I told her, and she turned to the squad. “Molly’s going to watch and learn with us today. And tomorrow, we hope she’ll be back.” Then she leaned down and whispered in my ear. “If you like it, Andre owns both the gymnastics and the cheering gym. Your mom won’t lose any money.”
“I’ll be back,” I told her. “You can count on it.”
“Water break!” she called to the squad.
“I have shorts and sneakers in my bag.” I pointed to the duffel I’d dropped at my feet.
“I like a girl who travels with possibilities. A girl who opens new doors.” She nodded to the far wall. “You know where the locker room is. Change, then come show me some pep.”
I hurried inside. My overstuffed bag had certainly come in handy today. Who knew throwing everything from my closet into the bag made me such a good packer?
“I knew it! I knew it!” Shrimp burst into the locker room. “I knew you should be a cheerleader.”
“I can’t wait to tumble with you.” I pulled on my shorts and tied my sneakers.
“You and me, Christmas tree.” She jumped up and down with excitement.
“Um, that one didn’t work so well.”
“I know, right?” Shrimp wrinkled her freckled nose. “Help me here? I need a better rhyme.”
“Tennessee? Or how about bumblebee?”
“I like that. You and me, bumblebee.” Shrimp buzzed loudly in my ear.
I buzzed even louder in hers. She buzzed back. Soon we couldn’t stop laughing.
“Listen. Is your real name Sheila?” I asked.
“Yuck. Don’t ever repeat that. It’s a secret.” She narrowed her eyes. “How did you dig up my horrible name?”
“I think my mom met your mom in the bathroom where they work. Weird, right?”
“Totally,” Shrimp agreed.
Then I had an idea. “Since we’re friends, maybe our moms can be friends too?” How great would it be if I found Mom a friend? And one who lived practically in our backyard?
“Works for me. You guys can come over tonight.” Shrimp smirked. “Does she want to climb the fence?”
“I’m thinking we’ll leave the sheets on your beds and walk.”
After I changed, I pulled out my phone. “I need to call my friend Eden really quickly.”
“Hurry,” Shrimp said. “Coach doesn’t like us to be late. I want to show you what we do out there.”
“Don’t be mad, but I’m not coming today,” I told Eden when she picked up.
“Really?” The disappointment in her voice was clear. “I got a bunch of avocados for your masks. I thought we’d order burritos from Senor Chavez too.”
“Yum. Oh, Eden, I’m sorry.”
“Did your mom say no?” she asked.
“She was surprisingly good with it,” I admitted. “Stuff came up. I’m going to hang out here and come another time. I’m really sorry.”
“Roseann stuff?” Eden sounded excited for me. “Is everything great with you two now?”
“Everything’s great, but not with Roseann. The best friend thing isn’t going to happen with us.”
“Oh no!” Eden cried. “I thought all our steps were working. They seemed to be, right?”
“I followed our steps, but you know what? They led to the wrong girl.”
“Wrong girl? What do you mean?” she asked.
“I found a different friend. A better friend. A friend who likes to have fun.” I smiled at Shrimp. “You’d love her too.”
“Who is she? Tell me all!” Eden gushed.
“Shrimp!” I said. “I’ll call you later with all the details, okay? Right now I’m going to learn how to be a cheerleader.”
“Cheerleader?” Eden cried. “Whoa!”
“Lots of changes here,” I told her. “Good ones.”
“Hi, Eden!” Shrimp called.
“Is that her?” Eden asked.
“That is. Wait a sec. I’m sending you a photo.”
Flipping my phone, I focused in on me and Shrimp. We squished our faces together as I snapped our photo. Then I snapped another, making fishy faces. And another with wide eyes.
I sent them to Eden.
My kind of It Girl! I texted.
Eden texted back: ☺
Excerpt from Picture Perfect #2: You First
Finn slipped a hair elastic off her wrist and pulled her shoulder-length blond hair into a low ponytail. “Okay,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “Party planning. Let’s do this.”
Gigi couldn’t help but laugh. Of course Finn would approach their task with the same intensity as a big soccer match. Of course she would.
“What we need,” Finn continued, “is a strategy.”
Gigi shook her head. “What we need is the Wall.”
The two of them turned to face the wall opposite Gigi’s loft bed. It was fourteen feet of history between them. Every last inch had been covered with posters, pictures, stickers, pages ripped from magazines—if you could stick it somewhere, the Wall was where it went.
Finley had actually started the tradition, with a picture of the two of them taken on the first day of preschool. They were dressed in matching blue jumpers and red-sequined flats, and they grinned at the camera, arms linked and heads touching. She’d pasted it smack in the center of the Wall, which at the time was covered with Disney princess wallpaper. Finn declared, “Princess Aurora, you are hereby banished from the Kingdom of Bedroom. Long live Eff and Gee!”
It was a ritual they continued to this day, “banishing” the things they’d outgrown, like the sparkly Polly Pocket decal and a poster of a certain boy band of brothers. Whatever replaced the “banished” item was proclaimed to be superior—the best, coolest, most Eff and Gee thing ever.
Sometimes the ceremonies were solemn, like when they’d come down with a serious case of Bieber fever. Other times, they were beyond silly, like when they took turns replacing the heads of My Little Ponies with those of their favorite celebrities. Like centaurs, but with famous people. (Together Eff and Gee had declared, “Long live the cen-stars!”)
There was the photo of last year’s The Cat in the Hat—with Gigi in costume and makeup as the titular feline, and Finn decked out as Thing One—pasted among souvenirs from every other play and talent show Gigi and Finn had ever been in.
Another section of the Wall was devoted entirely to birthday parties past; each year, the girls cut the number of their age out of theme-appropriate scrapbook paper and pasted a picture of themselves from the party on top of it.
There was last year’s mall scavenger hunt, of course. For their tenth birthday blowout, they’d thrown a retro roller skating party at the Christiana Skating Center. For nine, they both dressed up as Hermione Granger for their Harry Potter party, and two years before that was the karaoke slumber party they had in Finley’s basement. They’d invited so many girls, you couldn’t so much as walk to the bathroom without stepping on someone’s sleeping bag.
Gigi’s eyes rested on her favorite photo of the bunch—the super-gla
m portrait of her and Finn from their sixth birthday party, which had been held at a Sweet & Sassy salon in neighboring Pennsylvania. Because of the distance, their parents had rented them an honest-to-goodness pink limo, and all of their best girlfriends piled in. The only grown-ups allowed were Gigi’s and Finley’s moms. Technically, Finley’s little brother, Logan, had been on board too, as he’d hitched a ride in Finn’s mother’s swollen belly.
“Remember how much fun that was?” Gigi asked, running her finger along the photo’s glittery pink frame.
“Aww,” Finn cooed. “Look how cute we are in those matching sequined tutus!”
“Whatever we decide for this party,” Gigi said, “I feel strongly that it should include costumes.”
Finn sighed. “Not everyone likes to play dress-up, Gee.”
“But we do,” Gigi responded. “And it’s our birthday. So. If our friends want to bask in our fabulousness, they’re going to have to dress appropriately.”
Finley nodded like she agreed but then started to nibble on an invisible hangnail on her thumb. This, Gigi knew, was something her best friend did when she was conflicted. A nervous habit, born out of the fact that Finn hated to argue about anything.
Now it was Gigi’s turn to sigh. Why wouldn’t Finley just talk to her? How hard was it to tell your best friend what you were really thinking?
Then, as if she had read Gigi’s mind, Finley said, “It’s just that . . . well, costumes are more your thing than mine. So couldn’t we, um, make them optional?”
“Of course,” Gigi said. “As long as they stay on the menu. Deal?”
Finley grinned. “Deal.”
The girls continued to bat ideas back and forth. Or rather, Gigi batted ideas to Finn, who proceeded to shoot them down.
GEE: What about a Southern tea party? We could have finger sandwiches and—ooh!—I can ask my mom-mom to make her famous seven-layer coconut cake!
EFF: Tea party? I thought we were turning twelve, not a hundred and twelve.
GEE: (Thinking.)
EFF: (Staring at same invisible hangnail.)
GEE: I know! We can go full-on Peter Pan, complete with pirate treasure hunt.
EFF: (Shoots Gee a look.)
GEE: What? You wanted something younger!
EFF: Maybe not that young.