PG03. Pink & Green is the New Black

by Lisa Greenwald

  Eve makes eyes at me. “It’s true,” she mouths.

  I’ll never be able to tell Eve the truth. That things aren’t so great with Yamir and me. That there barely even is a Yamir and me.

  It would be like when your favorite actors break up, or in her case, two characters in a great romance novel. It would break her heart. Maybe as much as it would break mine.

  Lucy’s tip for surviving eighth grade:

  Take deep breaths when you’re overwhelmed.

  Sunny waits for me after studio art, my last-period class. Sunny’s taking ceramics instead, so we always wait for each other in the art wing on art day.

  “Ready for the meeting?” she asks.

  “Nervous,” is all I can manage to say.

  We walk to the library together, and the closer we get, the more nervous I am. All these adults on the school board left work early for this meeting. I guess they think it’s really important.

  Mrs. Deleccio is already there with Clint’s dad and the other members of the school board. It looks like Mrs. Casale, the new librarian, has broken her “no eating in the library” rule, because there’s a plate of cookies on the table and a pitcher of cucumber-flavored water.

  “This seems fancy, doesn’t it?” Sunny whispers to me.

  “Yeah, Mrs. Deleccio usually buys the generic brand, but those look like they’re from One Girl Cookies, down by the water. It’s almost too fancy.”

  “I know.” Sunny clenches my hand. “Now I’m nervous.”

  “Welcome, girls. Come have a seat.” Mrs. Deleccio smiles, and I take that to mean good news is coming. I’m the kind of person who always reads into things, even when I probably shouldn’t. I convince myself of signs when they’re probably just coincidences.

  Evan and Annabelle arrive a few minutes later. We all find seats around the library table.

  “Dig in, please,” Mrs. Deleccio insists, passing the plate of cookies around.

  “We’re thrilled with all the work you’ve done,” Clint’s dad starts. “We all met and discussed it, and then we realized something.”

  Oh God. Did they realize that it costs too much to make the cafeteria green? That they actually don’t care about the environment? That we missed something huge in our report?

  My heart is thumping in my chest, louder than when Russell Chapman plays the bass drum in band.

  “We realized it’s not enough to make only the Old Mill Middle School cafeteria green. We need to make all the schools green—the elementary school and the high school too. The faculty rooms, the catered events, the conferences.” He picks up a cookie from the plate and takes a bite. “Delicious,” he says to Mrs. Deleccio.

  “Oh, I didn’t bake them.” She gets nervous all of a sudden, and I want Clint’s dad to go back to discussing the stuff about going green. Who cares about the cookies?

  “It’s a huge undertaking,” he continues. “But we can do it. It will end up being more cost-effective too, if we’re ordering for a whole district. And we don’t want your work to end here. You’ll all be at the high school in the fall, and we’re going to need lots more help.”

  “I’m in!” Annabelle says in her enthusiastic, kiss-up Annabelle voice. But right now, I don’t even mind. I feel the same way.

  “Me too,” I tell everyone. “Thanks so much for being excited about this, and for taking us seriously.”

  “Taking you seriously? Of course! You’re making a huge difference,” Clint’s dad says.

  “Thanks,” I reply.

  Annabelle starts, “And Lucy knows a lot about the high school because—”

  I cut her off. “Because my sister Claudia went there!” Annabelle raises her eyebrows at me like she’s shocked. But I know where she was going with that, and I don’t see any reason why Clint’s dad needs to know about Yamir and me. Clint and Yamir are best friends, so maybe Clint’s dad already knows. Or maybe he doesn’t know anything. Either way, we don’t need to bring it up. “So, what are the next steps?”

  “E-mail your list of vendors to me.” He hands me his card, and I feel so official. I’m not sure anyone has ever given me a business card before. “As soon as the vendors can get everything in order, we’ll transform the cafeterias!”

  Mrs. Deleccio jumps in next. “Mr. Titone, the head of cafeteria services for the district, will be taking this over, for the most part. He already knows this is in the works, and I’m sure he’ll hear from his boss, but it would be nice if someone from Earth Club also fills him in.”

  “I can do that,” Evan says. “He lives around the corner from me. I used to play baseball with his son.”

  “That sounds great, Evan.”

  It seems like our work is mostly done—at least until we get to be in the high school Earth Club. I can’t tell if I’m happy or sad. Maybe a little of both.

  This must be how runners feel after a marathon—so happy to have completed it, but unsure what to do next.

  How will I spend my time? What will I work on? I think I need to come up with another Earth Club project, or my life will seem really incomplete.

  We chat for a little while longer about average Old Mill stuff—the traveling soccer team and the community pool that’s being remodeled for next summer. I love to talk about improvements in Old Mill, but right now I can’t focus. I’m too excited that this cafeteria thing is really happening, and too sad that my work on it is mostly done.

  I want to go home and talk to Mom, Dad, and Grandma. I want to call Claudia.

  Most of all, I want to talk to Yamir.

  Lucy’s tip for surviving eighth grade:

  Celebrate all the good things, no matter how small.

  Annabelle’s mom offers to drive Sunny and me home, and I’m immediately disappointed. I was a little bit excited for the chance that Sunny’s mom would pick us up and Yamir would be in the car. But there’s no good reason for us to say no.

  Mom and Grandma are sitting in the living room drinking tea when I get home.

  “Who’s Travis?” Mom asks before she even says hi.

  “Huh?”

  “A boy named Travis stopped by the pharmacy today,” Grandma explains. “He looked lost, wandering around for a little too long. So I asked him if he needed help, and then he asked if someone named Lucy worked there.”

  “Oh. Yeah, he’s new. We go to school together.”

  “Got it.” Mom smiles like she thinks something is up, even though nothing really is. She gets these ideas in her head and blows them totally out of proportion.

  “Anyway, I have good news.” I sit down next to Mom and grab her mug for a sip of tea.

  “Yeah?” Grandma asks, impatient as usual.

  “The school board proposal went through,” I tell them. “Our cafeteria will be green! And not just ours. The elementary school and the high school too!”

  “Really?” Mom jumps up. “Tell us more! Tell us more!”

  “Okay, calm down.” I laugh at Mom’s enthusiasm, then explain all about Clint’s dad and how it’s going to work. I have to stop every few seconds because Mom has so many questions, but it doesn’t bother me. When you’re really excited about something, you don’t mind when people ask questions about it. You want to tell them everything so that they can be excited too.

  “That is so wonderful, darling,” Grandma says. “I can’t even believe it. My granddaughter is taking over the world!”

  “Well, if that’s the case, the least you can do is treat me to a celebratory dinner.” I give them a hopeful look. “Sushi, anyone?”

  Grandma and Mom glance at each other. I think their eyes are saying yes.

  “Sure! Go call Dad and let him know,” Mom says. “He was expecting baked ziti leftovers, but something tells me he’ll be okay with this.”

  “It’s settled. Sushi it is. We’ll leave at 6:45.” Grandma collects the mugs and goes into the kitchen.

  “Do you want to invite Yamir?” Mom whispers with a sneaky expression on her face.

  “Why are yo
u whispering and what is that face?” I ask. All my happy feelings wash away, and I’m suddenly annoyed.

  “I didn’t want Grandma to yell at me for butting into your business.” Mom is still whispering.

  “Oh.” I think for a second. “It’ll be better if it’s just us tonight. But thanks.”

  They were so excited for me that I didn’t want to tell them how I’m also feeling a little sad and uncertain about Yamir. I want them to think I’m taking over the world, not stressing about a boy. I guess I can just focus on being happy for now and worry about the empty feeling later.

  I go up to my room to check my e-mail, change clothes, and get ready for dinner. Going out for sushi with my family isn’t like going out for any other meal. We take it really seriously. We order one huge round to start. And we order as much as we want after that. We eat and eat and eat until we’re so stuffed it’s hard for us to walk out to the car.

  It’s a very special treat.

  We’re all big sushi eaters, even Grandma. She says that she’s going to take everyone to Japan when she wins the lottery. The weird thing is that she hardly ever plays the lottery, so I’m not sure how that’s going to happen. Still, it’s fun to think about.

  I sign in to check my e-mail, but there’s nothing exciting there: a message from Bloomingdale’s about a sale, and some mass e-mail about Eighth-Grade Masquerade that I don’t feel like reading.

  So I draft an e-mail to Claudia and Bean:

  Guess what? The cafeteria is officially going green! And not just the middle school—the high school and elementary school too! Yippee! Hope all is well in Chicago! A new kid in school just moved from there. He said his mom misses it a lot. Smooches, Lucy

  I click SEND and then draft an e-mail to Yamir:

  Well, I rocked the cafeteria thing! Going green in a major way. Call/text/whatever and I will fill you in. Sushi tonight. I know you’re jealous, xo

  I hit SEND before I can change my mind about the “xo.” It was probably a mistake. Maybe we’re not at the “xo” point anymore. Who knows where we are now. Probably “sincerely” or “talk soon.”

  I decide to write a quick e-mail to Mrs. Deleccio too. I don’t want my work with Earth Club to be over, and I think there’s one more project I can take on before I graduate: composting. It’s something people are talking about a lot these days. Some towns are even instituting mandatory composting programs. It seems like the logical next step for us.

  Hi Mrs. Deleccio,

  I had an idea I wanted to run by you. Now that the cafeteria will be green, we need to focus on our food waste! What if we started a composting program? I’d love to take this on. Let me know what you think.

  Thanks, Lucy

  I love that we can e-mail teachers. It makes everything so much easier. And it means I might not have to wait until next Monday’s meeting to hear what she thinks of my idea.

  Dad texts me to say that he’ll pick us up and drive us to the sushi place, since he’s already out running errands and will be passing the house anyway. This may be true, but I think he just wants to show off his new car. He got some revamped old convertible, and he’ll probably ask if we want the top down even though it’s freezing outside. It’s silly now, but it’s going to be awesome when the weather warms up.

  I text Sunny that we’re going out for sushi, because she loves it almost as much as I do, and I’m secretly hoping she’ll say something about Yamir, mention where he is or that he’s heard about the cafeteria.

  But she doesn’t write back. That is so unlike her. I wonder if she lost her phone.

  I finish getting ready and go downstairs to wait for Dad. He picks us up exactly on time. Mom sits in front and Grandma and I sit in the backseat. It’s a rare four-door convertible, bright red with beige leather seats. I wonder if Dad will let Claudia drive it when she’s home on break. We can drive around together and go to the movies in style! I hope he still has this car when I get my license in three years. Maybe he’ll be bored of it by then and let me drive it all the time.

  Dad drops us off in front of Sushi of Gari, because the parking lot is full and he needs to look for street parking. This isn’t unusual. It’s the most popular sushi place in all of Connecticut. People drive for hours to eat here.

  I see two things as soon as I walk in. And even though the sushi here is the most delicious in the world, I immediately want to run out and go home.

  Travis and his family are sitting in the booth by the side window.

  And the Ramals are sitting at the round table in the back.

  My stomach hurts so much that I don’t think I’ll be able to eat a single piece of sushi tonight. In fact, I may never be able to eat again.

  Lucy’s tip for surviving eighth grade:

  When in doubt, eat sushi.

  Thankfully, no one else in my family sees the Ramals, and they don’t really know Travis so they don’t notice that he’s there. I text Sunny:

  Meet me in the bathroom. I’m at Gari too.

  I wait and wait and wait, but again, no text back. She must have left her phone at home. It’s the only explanation, since she never turns it off.

  The hostess seats us at a table by the window on the other side of the restaurant. My back is to Travis, but out of the corner of my eye I can kind of see Yamir. I think they’re approaching the end of their meal, since most of their plates are empty except for a few stray pieces of ginger and uneven clumps of wasabi.

  “Well, this is exciting,” Dad says. “Sushi with my favorite ladies!”

  “Oh, Sam,” Grandma says. “Such a charmer.” I’m not sure if she’s teasing Dad or not. Even though I’ve known Grandma all my life, I can never tell exactly what she’s thinking.

  Kai, our favorite waiter, comes over to take our order, even though he knows exactly what we like: pretty much one of everything and extra-spicy tuna rolls. Soon he brings over our edamame and glasses of water with lime, and I start to relax.

  No one knows I’m here. Maybe it’s better that Sunny forgot her phone and that she doesn’t know I’m here. And they probably won’t have to walk by us as they leave. This is a pay-your-waiter kind of place, and we’re not sitting by the door.

  I’m safe. I can eat and enjoy my sushi without having to see Yamir or Travis.

  But ten minutes pass and the Ramals are still sitting there.

  What are they waiting for?

  I want to go to the bathroom so I can sneak a glance and see if they’ve paid their check, but that seems like a bad idea because then they’ll see me.

  “Luce, you okay?” Mom asks. “This is a celebration for you, and you seem like you’re about to be arrested.”

  “Jane!” Grandma yelps. “What kind of thing is that to say to your daughter?”

  Mom rolls her eyes. “Ma. I’m not saying she’s going to be arrested. I’m saying that’s how she’s acting.”

  “Oh Lord,” Grandma says under her breath. The last thing I need right now is for them to get into a fight. So I put on a smile and continue eating edamame. I just need to pretend that no one I know is here.

  We finish the edamame, and Dad’s miso soup comes—and then it seems like all the craziness that could possibly happen happens all at once.

  Kai brings over a platter of sushi pieces, everything we like: tuna, salmon, yellowtail, fatty tuna, and a bunch of other stuff that I always forget the names of. He’s adjusting it on the table when Mom knocks over a cup of water.

  Grandma holds her head in frustration. She acts like Mom just lit the restaurant on fire.

  “No big deal. No big deal,” Dad says in his calm, “everything’s okay” voice. To be fair, this is pretty much his everyday voice.

  Kai sends a busboy over to clean it, and then I’m not sure how this happens exactly, but it seems like Mom elbows him accidentally. The busboy stumbles and falls. The owner of the restaurant, Gari himself, comes over to see what’s going on.

  And that’s when the Ramals decide to leave.

  �
�Everything okay here, Desbergs?” Mr. Ramal asks, laughing. “You are all going to be kicked out and asked to never return.”

  I’m glad he thinks this is so funny.

  “Everything’s fine.” I smile but don’t turn around. I can’t tell if Yamir is there with his dad or not. I’m praying that he walked out the other way.

  Someone taps my shoulder, and I’m scared to turn around until I hear, “Funny seeing you here,” in her classic Sunny giggly voice.

  “Well, you would have known if you’d checked your phone!” I say, sounding too angry for someone eating at Sushi of Gari. I finally turn around.

  Sunny is standing there with both Yamir and Travis.

  Forget about eating all the delicious sushi that’s on the table. All I care about right now is not getting sick in front of everyone at this restaurant.

  My parents are talking to Sunny’s parents, and of course I’m trying to eavesdrop. It might be my imagination, but I swear that Mrs. Ramal says, “Yamir insisted we eat here tonight. We never go to restaurants during the week.”

  Did I just make that up? No. She really said it.

  Maybe he wanted to eat here because he knows it’s my favorite restaurant. If you think Sushi of Gari, you automatically think Lucy Desberg. He was thinking about me. I’ll take it. It’s a step in the right direction.

  Or did he see my e-mail? And assume we’d come here to celebrate? That’s a possibility too.

  “So, what’s new, Yamir?” I ask, trying to play it cool.

  “Nada.” He looks at his phone, seemingly bored.

  Fine. I guess that’s how he’s going to be.

  Travis is still standing there. He hasn’t said anything. Shouldn’t he be eating with his family?

  I look over to their table and see Gavin and their parents eating away. Travis is going to miss out on all the good sushi.

  I say, “Travis, I see you’ve discovered the best restaurant in all of Connecticut.”