Caitlin's Lucky Charm

by Lisa Schroeder

  WHAT DO YOU THINK IS THE MOST IMPORTANT QUALITY IN A FRIEND?

  YOU ANSWERED THAT QUESTION IN MY JOURNAL, AND I LOVE WHAT YOU WROTE. YOU SAID, “SOMEONE WHO ACCEPTS YOU JUST THE WAY YOU ARE. IT CAN BE EASY TO GET CAUGHT UP ON THINGS THAT DON’T REALLY MATTER THAT MUCH. BUT THE ABILITY TO BE YOURSELF, DURING GOOD TIMES AND BAD, IS SO IMPORTANT. AND A GOOD FRIEND WON’T JUDGE YOU. SHE’LL JUST CARE ABOUT YOU, NO MATTER WHAT.”

  THANK YOU FOR LETTING ME BE MYSELF, AND FOR BEING MY FRIEND. I GOT THE LETTER YOU WROTE ME, AND I HOPE BY NOW YOU’VE MADE SOME NEW FRIENDS AT YOUR SCHOOL — GIRLS WHO CAN ACCEPT YOU JUST THE WAY YOU ARE.

  DO YOU LIKE THE PICTURE I’M SENDING ALONG? I LOVE IT. I’M SENDING IT TO LIBBY AND HANNAH TOO. I BOUGHT A LITTLE FRAME FOR MINE, AND IT SITS NEXT TO MY BED. I LOOK AT IT EVERY DAY AND REMEMBER ALL THE GOOD TIMES WE HAD TOGETHER. THE FOUR OF US SURE DID A GREAT JOB OF ACCEPTING EACH OTHER FOR WHO WE ARE, RIGHT?

  I HOPE THE BRACELET IS BRINGING YOU LOTS OF LUCK. WRITE BACK SOON!

  YOUR CABIN 7 BFF,

  MIA

  Caitlin opened her fist and looked at the bracelet she’d held since her mother had handed it to her. What had Hannah said, that day in the Pink Giraffe? It feels nice and strong. Just like our friendship.

  Something told her to put it back on. To not give up on it yet. To not give up, period. As she put the bracelet back on her wrist, she saw the four girls sitting around the friendship circle, reading poetry from the book Caitlin had brought along. They hadn’t laughed at her when she’d shared it with them. They hadn’t said that poetry was weird or boring or any of the other things they could have said. They’d asked her why she liked it. What was it about this book that was special to her? And they’d listened when she told them she loved how each poem featured a flower, because she was crazy for flowers. Each page was beautifully illustrated, and she’d always felt like it was more than a book — it was almost like having a little flower garden all her own.

  She looked over at the rose that was still in the vase by her bed. It was starting to wither up and die. That was the problem with cut flowers. They didn’t last long. Her eyes wandered up to the poster of the flower growing through the sidewalk.

  And that’s when it hit her — the perfect ending to her speech.

  The assembly was first thing in the morning, during homeroom. As they walked to the auditorium, Esther walked alongside Caitlin, while the four fun girls walked ahead, whispering back and forth among themselves. Earlier, Caitlin had seen they all wore buttons that said YOUR VOTE FOR DELLA IS PRICELESS.

  Suddenly, Caitlin wanted to run the other way. Go to the office and tell the nurse she was having a migraine and needed to lie down in the dark with a cold rag on her forehead. Yes, she’d finished her speech, but what was the point? There was no way she would win. And there was no way the fun girls would ever let her into their group.

  “It’s hopeless,” she muttered.

  “No,” Esther said. “It’s not.” She reached out with a closed fist. “Here. This is for you. To bring you luck.”

  Caitlin held out her hand, and Esther dropped a tiny pink paper star into her palm.

  “Did you make this?” Caitlin asked her.

  “Yes. It’s an origami lucky star. I love making them. I can show you how sometime, if you’d like. You can make them in different colors and then put them in a glass jar or vase. Cute, right?”

  Caitlin examined the star closely. It was light as air, and puffy. She couldn’t see any tape or glue, just places where the paper had been folded.

  “That’s amazing,” Caitlin told her as she slipped the star into the pocket of her skirt. “Thank you so much.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  As the kids streamed into the auditorium, Caitlin saw Tezra waving at her from across the sea of people. She waved back and realized that talking to Esther and seeing Tezra made her feel better.

  She thought about the letter from Mia yesterday. How she’d answered that question of the day in the journal all those weeks ago.

  Friends let you be yourself and they care about you, no matter what.

  Caitlin breathed a sigh of relief. No matter what happened today, it didn’t really matter anymore. She did have friends. Every day she’d talked to Esther at their locker. Esther had listened to Caitlin go on and on about her campaign and speech, and listened like nothing else was as important as Caitlin. It was as if she’d been wearing Mrs. Watson’s button. And what had Caitlin done in return, for Esther? Not a thing. She’d been too focused on getting in with the fun girls to realize she had a wonderful friend right in front of her.

  She had to make it up to her. Somehow, some way, she would make it up to her. Starting today.

  The students took their seats and Caitlin silently read over her speech one more time, while others talked around her. She took a pencil and scribbled in a new line. A few minutes later, the principal, Mr. Eckhart, took the stage and rambled on about the importance of learning about politics through the student body election process. Caitlin didn’t listen very closely. She was telling herself things like:

  Stay calm.

  Talk slowly.

  Make sure to breathe.

  When he finished his talk, he told the audience the order for the speeches would be sixth graders, then seventh graders, and finally eighth graders.

  “Only vice presidential and presidential candidates will give speeches, due to time constraints, though later today you will be voting on treasurer and secretary for your grades as well. Each of the candidates will speak for approximately three minutes. This should be ample time for them to give you an idea of the kind of leadership they would offer the school. I expect everyone to be kind and courteous to every single candidate during the speeches. All right, sixth-grade vice presidential candidates, please take the stage!”

  The vice presidential candidates for sixth grade went up and sat down in the three chairs in the middle of the stage. Mr. Eckhart said they would go in alphabetical order, so that meant Marcus Bailey would go first.

  Marcus approached the podium and started talking into the microphone. His voice was soft. So soft, that even with the microphone, Caitlin could hardly hear him.

  “You’ll have to speak up, Marcus,” Mr. Eckhart told him.

  He spoke louder, but his voice shook. Caitlin fidgeted in her seat, feeling sorry for him. Why did they have to do speeches anyway? She was pretty sure most kids would rather do a weekend’s worth of homework than have to endure giving a speech to the entire student body.

  The next candidate wasn’t as nervous. She even made the kids laugh a couple of times. The final candidate said about twenty words and then sat back down. Short, sweet, and to the point. Caitlin wondered for a second if maybe she should try that tactic. No, she told herself. Stick to the plan.

  “All right, thank you,” Mr. Eckhart said. “Next we’ll have the presidential candidates for sixth grade take the stage, please.”

  Esther smiled at Caitlin as she stood up. Caitlin told herself to look over this way while she talked, at Esther’s kind and encouraging eyes.

  The three candidates took their seats onstage. Caitlin figured out that based on their last names, Kristopher would go first, then Caitlin, and finally Della. When the principal said Kristopher’s name, a section in the auditorium way in the back went crazy, yelling and clapping. They were all boys. Loud boys.

  Kristopher’s whole speech was filled with Star Wars quotes. He got lots of laughs and applause. Caitlin thought it was kind of ridiculous. When he was finished, the section of boys yelled even louder.

  Caitlin resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

  “Thank you, Kristopher,” Mr. Eckhart. “Our next presidential candidate is Caitlin Rogers.”

  Caitlin felt like a rubber chicken, weird and wobbly, as she made her way across the stage. A few people were clapping, but not many. Caitlin placed her paper on the podium before she looked out at the sea of faces. She swallowed hard.

  “When I
started school here, more than anything else, I wanted to make friends. None of my friends from elementary school are here, so making friends was my number one priority. People told me the best way to make friends was to get involved in activities, and at first, that’s why I decided to run for class president. I thought if I got elected president, I’d be the cool girl. The girl everyone wants to be friends with.

  “But as time went by, I realized that really wasn’t a good reason to become class president. And just today, I realized I’ve already made some friends. I’ve been so wrapped up in this campaign and winning and getting in with a group of girls who looked like fun, I didn’t see what was right in front of me. So thank you, Esther, for everything you’ve done for me. And Tezra, after we talked earlier in the week, I feel like we’re on our way to becoming friends too, and I’m so happy about that. Another friend told me last night, sometimes awesome shows up when you least expect it, and I know she’s right.

  “So now that I have some friends, what am I hoping for? I’m hoping to make this school the best it can be. A place where kids feel safe and happy and accepted, no matter who they are, what they look like, or how much money their parents make. If I’m elected your class president, I will talk to the administration about how important it is to make this school a place where we don’t knock others down but pick each other up. A place where kindness is treated like a flower garden — the more we work on making it grow, the better it will be.

  “I have a poster in my room that says, ‘Bloom where you are planted.’ We’re all planted here, at this great school where we are encouraged to do activities we love, like art or dance or music or theater. I hope we can all grow and bloom together. Thank you.”

  Everyone clapped as Caitlin turned around and walked back toward her seat. Maybe no one yelled for her like they’d yelled for Kristopher, but Caitlin felt good. She’d done it. And she’d done it without passing out or throwing up or dying from stage fright.

  After the speeches were over, the students were excused and told to make way to their second-period classes. Both Tezra and Esther waited outside the auditorium doors for Caitlin, showering her with compliments when she appeared.

  “It was so good,” Tezra said.

  “Amazing,” Esther said. “And I can’t believe you mentioned me.”

  “Me neither,” Tezra said. “It was really sweet of you.”

  Caitlin realized the two girls might not know each other, so she quickly introduced them.

  “Do you like to read?” Esther asked Tezra.

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Do you want to be on our Battle of the Books team?” Esther asked. “Someone dropped out yesterday, so I’ve been looking for a new member. We’re meeting today after school.”

  Tezra smiled. “I’d love that. Thanks for asking me.”

  As the three girls walked down the hall together, Caitlin took her speech notes and threw them in a recycling bin. She was so glad it was over.

  But more than that, she was glad she didn’t have to worry about trying to get involved in any more activities, unless she really wanted to. Because for now, she had all the friends she needed.

  Esther’s mom gave Caitlin a ride home after the Battle of the Books meeting. When they pulled into the driveway, Caitlin’s heart dropped to her stomach. Her dad was home early again.

  After she said good-bye to Esther and her mom, Caitlin got out and slowly walked to the door. She waved to Esther as they pulled away. Then she stopped walking, hoping to calm down before she went inside. Last time, when her dad had come home early, she’d been wrong about the reason. But what could it be now? Her dad didn’t need to go to the dentist again for at least six months.

  She had a feeling that this time, it really meant something.

  Hoping to hear her family before they heard her, she opened the door slowly. And then she gasped.

  “Surprise!” her family shouted, the family room decorated with balloons and streamers.

  Caitlin stood there, taking it all in, trying to decide what it meant.

  “But … it’s not my birthday,” she said.

  Her dad laughed. “Of course it isn’t, Peaches. We’re celebrating your successful speech today.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “How do you know it was successful?”

  “Because your homeroom teacher, Mr. Hankins, sent us an e-mail,” Mrs. Rogers said. “He wanted us to know what an incredible job you did and that he was so impressed with what you had to say.”

  “You must have mentioned me, your incredible brother, in your speech, right, Caitlin?” Isaac teased.

  Caitlin put her backpack on the floor near the door. “I can’t believe you guys did this for me.”

  “We have a cake too,” Isaac said. He looked over at Jessi. “What kind is it again?”

  “Pineapple upside-down cake,” she replied. She stood off to the side, her arms crossed, like she was annoyed to be wasting time standing there. “With real whipped cream. Can I go back upstairs, Mom?”

  “No,” Mr. Rogers said. “While you’re all here, there’s something I want to tell you.”

  Caitlin gulped. This was it. The moment they’d been waiting for. Dreading. Of course he’d tell them all he came home early to celebrate. That way he could break the news to them gently.

  She looked over at Isaac, expecting him to take off for his closet any second. He didn’t seem to be concerned. Still, once her dad told them, she knew that’s what he’d do. While Isaac stared at their dad, waiting to hear what it was he wanted to tell them, Caitlin walked over to her little brother and put her arm around his shoulders.

  “I know it hasn’t been easy, being on a tight budget and wondering what might happen with my job. You’ve been worried, I know, and I’m sorry. I’ve been interviewing almost every week, but nothing’s panned out.”

  The suspense was killing Caitlin. She couldn’t stand it. “Just tell us,” she said. “Please, Dad. Just tell us you lost your job today and get it over with.”

  He shook his head. “No, that’s not what I want to tell you. Not at all. In fact, it’s just the opposite. You see, I don’t have to interview anymore, and you don’t have to worry anymore, because my job is safe. Layoff packets were handed out today, and I didn’t get one. My boss pulled me into his office today and told me I have nothing to worry about.”

  “Woo-hoo!” Isaac yelled, running over to his dad and jumping into his arms. “Does this mean we can get the good TV channels again?”

  Their dad laughed. “I think it does, little buddy.”

  Both Jessi and Caitlin stood there, like they could hardly believe the news.

  “Isn’t it wonderful?” Mrs. Rogers said. “We can go shopping this weekend, and get you all some new clothes.”

  Caitlin clapped her hands together at the thought. Isaac, on the other hand, who didn’t like shopping for clothes, groaned.

  “Isaac, come help me with dinner,” Mrs. Rogers said, turning toward the kitchen. “It’s your turn. Girls, it’ll be ready in about thirty minutes.”

  Mr. Rogers walked over and gave Caitlin a big hug. “It’s a good day, isn’t it, baby girl?” He looked over at Jessi. “Come over here. Group hug. What do you say?”

  Caitlin expected Jessi to nix that idea, but she actually came over and put her arms around both of them. “I love you girls,” he told them. “Thanks for hanging in there.”

  “You know, Dad,” Jessi said. “There’s this new phone a lot of my friends have. Do you think —”

  He started laughing. “Just because I still have my job doesn’t mean I’m Mr. Moneybags all of a sudden. Your current phone does the job just fine.”

  Jessi shrugged and then turned to go upstairs. “You can’t blame me for trying, right?”

  “We’ll never know unless we try,” Mr. Rogers said. “That’s exactly right.” He looked down at Caitlin. “And now we’ll see if you get enough votes to be sixth-grade class president.”

  “I don’t think I’ll wi
n,” Caitlin said. “But it’s okay. Everything worked out.”

  “What about that play?” her dad asked. “When are the roles announced for that?”

  “We find out about both the election and the play on Monday,” Caitlin said.

  Her dad smiled. “Good thing you’ll be doing a bunch of shopping. I suspect it’ll be one terribly long weekend, waiting to get all that news.”

  “I don’t think I’ll win the election or get a part,” Caitlin said. “But I can’t lie. I’m really curious how it’s all going to turn out.”

  Mr. Rogers held up his two hands with his fingers crossed. “All we can do is try our hardest — then hope for the best.”

  On Saturday, Caitlin, her mom, and her two siblings hopped in the minivan to head to the mall. Jessi sat in the front passenger seat, while Caitlin and Isaac sat together in the middle seat.

  Isaac tapped Caitlin on the knee. She turned to him. “I took my fort down. You know, the one in my closet?”

  Caitlin smiled. “Are the zombies gone?”

  “I think so,” he said. “I hope so.”

  “Me too,” Caitlin said.

  “Do you ever get scared of things?” he asked her as he ran his finger over the Hot Wheels car he’d brought along.

  “Yeah.”

  “What do you do when you’re scared of something?” Isaac asked.

  Caitlin looked out the window and thought about that for a minute. Then she turned to him and said, “I talk about it with friends. Or, you know, someone who cares about me.”

  “Don’t they laugh at you? Call you a fraidycat or something?”

  “Little brother, if they laugh at you, they’re not really your friends, right?” She leaned in and whispered, “And you know, you can always talk to me. I promise, I’ll never laugh at you.”

  “Okay. Well, here’s something I want to talk about. I’m afraid Mom is going to forget to call and get the good channels turned back on.”

  Caitlin smiled. “Did you hear that, Mom?” she asked.