Sunday Sundaes

by Coco Simon

  I had never lived in another house. All I knew was this one. I knew that there were thirty-eight steps between the front porch and the bus stop. I could run up the stairs to the second floor in eight seconds (Tanner and I had timed each other), and I knew that the cabinet door in the kitchen where we kept the cookies creaked when you opened it.

  “I think you’ll like the new house,” said Mom. “Houses. You’ll have two homes.”

  I looked straight ahead.

  “Your new room has bookcases all around it. I thought of you when I saw it and knew you would love it.” Mom looked at me. “And there’s a really great backyard to hang out in. I’m thinking about getting a hammock maybe, and definitely some comfy rocking chairs.”

  “What about my new other house?” I asked.

  “Well,” Mom said, “Dad’s house is an apartment, actually, and it has really cool views. It’s modern, and my house is more old-fashioned. It’s the best of both worlds!”

  I sighed.

  Mom sighed. “Honey, I know this is tough.”

  I still didn’t answer. Mom stood up.

  “Well, kiddo, we have a lot to do. I’m guessing Tamiko and Sierra are coming over soon?”

  I looked at my phone lighting up. “Maybe,” I said.

  Mom nodded. “Okay. Well, let me know what you want to do today. It’s your first day back. Tomorrow, though, we do need to pack up your room. Dad and I have been packing things up for the past few weeks, but there’s still a lot to do.”

  I looked into the hall. I must have missed the fact that there were some boxes stacked there. One was marked “Mom” and one was marked “Dad.”

  Mom followed my gaze. “We’re trying to make sure there are familiar things in each house. You can split up your room or . . . I was thinking maybe you’d like to get a new bedroom set?” There was that fake bright happy voice again.

  I looked around the room. I liked my room. If the house couldn’t stay the same, at least my room could. “No,” I said. “I want this stuff.”

  “We should also talk about your new school,” Mom said.

  I looked down at my feet. My toenails were painted in my camp colors, blue and yellow. I wiggled them.

  “You’re already enrolled, but I talked to the principal about having you come over to take a tour and maybe meet some of your new teachers.”

  I shrugged.

  “I think it might be good to take a ride over, just so you are familiar with it before your first day,” she said. “It’s a bigger school, so you could get the lay of the land. And I’ve been asking around the new neighborhood, and there are a few girls who will be in your grade.”

  I nodded.

  “Okay,” she said brightly. “Well, we have this week to do that, so we’ll just find a good time to go.”

  I swallowed hard.

  Mom stood in the doorway and waited a minute, then stepped back into the room quickly, gathered me up in her arms, and hugged me tightly. “It’s going to be better, baby girl,” she said, kissing the top of my head like she used to when I was little. She was using her normal voice again. “I promise you, it might be hard, but it’s definitely going to be better.”

  I tried really, really hard not to cry. A few tears spilled out, and Mom wiped them away. She took my face in her hands and looked at me. “Now,” she said, “first things first, because I think there’s a griddle that’s calling our names.”

  I knew the tradition, so I had to smile.

  “Welcome-back pancakes!” we said at the same time. Mom’s blueberry pancakes were my welcome-home-from-camp tradition. She always put ice cream on them to make them into smiley faces and wrote “XO” in syrup on my plate. I could already taste them. I stood up and followed Mom downstairs. Maybe she was right about things. This day was already getting a little bit better.

  The next couple of days were a blur. On our last night in the house, we sat on the grass in the backyard. We had been packing and hauling boxes, and we were all sweaty and dirty and tired. Mom and Dad had emptied out the refrigerator and cabinets, so we had kind of a mishmash to eat. Tanner was eating cereal, peanut butter, crackers, and a hot dog that Dad had made on the grill. For dessert Mom pulled out the last carton of ice cream from the freezer, and since we had packed the bowls up, we all stuck spoons in and shared. “Hey!” I yelped as Tanner’s spoon jabbed mine.

  “I want those chocolate chips!” he said, digging in. Mom laughed. “In about a week we’re going to have so much ice cream, we won’t even know what to do with it!” Mom’s store was opening soon, and since she was so busy with all the details, the packing at home hadn’t exactly gone smoothly. Since Mom kept having to go to the store for things like the freezer delivery or to meet with people about things like what kind of spoons to order, we actually got Dad’s apartment set up first. It was nice, but it was . . . well, weird. Tanner and I each had our own rooms, but they were kind of small. And Dad’s house felt like Dad’s, not really like our house. Dad had always loved modern things, so everything was glass and leather. It looked like it should be in a catalog. I was kind of afraid to mess anything up.  There were a lot of pictures of me and of  Tanner, but the first thing I noticed was that there were no pictures of the four of us.

  “Where’s the one from New Year’s?” I asked, standing in front of a bookcase. We always took a family picture on New Year’s Day.

  Dad looked around. “Oh,” he said, a little flustered. “I guess Mom took those shots. She has more room in the house.”

  I looked at him. So this is how it’s going to be, I thought. The three of us here and the three of us there.

  “We can take some new shots!” Dad said.

  “Better,” I kept whispering to myself. They’d both promised it was going to be better. But it wasn’t really better. It was just downright weird.

  The night before moving day, Tanner and I went to bed late. We had been packing all day, and we were beat, but I still couldn’t sleep. I heard the back door open. I looked out my window and saw a shadow on the lawn. I almost freaked out, but then I realized that it was Mom, sitting on one of the rocking chairs that we’d bought for the new house but that had accidentally gotten delivered here. She was facing the house, and she looked like she was trying to memorize exactly the way it looked right then. I wondered if she could see me looking out at her. Then I saw Dad walk toward her. It was kind of weird that he was still here, since he had his apartment already, but they had decided that we would all move at the same time. Dad sat down on the grass next to Mom, and I could see them talking but couldn’t hear what they were saying. I heard Mom laugh, and then I heard Dad laughing too. It was a nice sound. It was the last night we’d all be sleeping in this house together. I knew we were still a family—they kept telling us that—but it was the last time we’d all live together, and tomorrow morning everything was going to really change. I looked at Mom and Dad laughing, but all it did was make my throat thick. Some things were too sad to see, so I flung myself into bed, hoping I’d fall asleep fast.

  When the movers rolled up to the house early the next morning, Mom and Dad had already been up for hours, cleaning and sweeping and taking care of a lot of last-minute stuff. The house already didn’t look like ours anymore.

  When everything was loaded up, Mom locked the front door and handed Dad the key. We all stood there on the porch for a minute, looking up at the house. Home. I started to cry, and so did Mom. I buried my head in Dad’s chest, and I could tell he was crying too. Only Tanner, who was sitting on the step playing a game on Dad’s phone, seemed unmoved. “Tanner!” I yelled. “Say good-bye to your house!”

  Tanner looked up, confused. “Uh, bye, house,” he said, and we all laughed.

  “Okay, troops,” Mom said. “Onward.” Tanner and I got into Mom’s car, and we pulled out of the driveway. I looked back down our street as long as I could, saying good-bye to everything as it was.

  We turned onto the main road, and Mom took a deep breath. “Okay, gang,�
� she said. “On to our next adventure! Here we go.”

  “To where?” Tanner asked.

  “To our new house,” Mom said, turning around to look at Tanner. “And to better things ahead.”

  “Oh,” said Tanner. “I thought maybe we were going someplace fun.” Mom looked at Tanner like he had ten heads. Then she looked at me, and we both cracked up. Some things, it seemed, weren’t going to change at all.

  CHAPTER TWO

  THE PLOT THICKENS

  I hadn’t taken a bus to school in years. And even then, I’d had Tamiko and Sierra, and sometimes Sierra’s twin sister, Isabel, to sit with. But here I was on the first day of my new school, stepping onto a big yellow bus. Mom had asked if I wanted to be driven to school, but I thought that might be more embarrassing. Mom had taken me to the new school the week before, and I met the principal and we walked around a little bit. I’d really wanted to meet the librarian, but she wasn’t there that day. The school seemed fine but big. I was a little nervous about finding my way around, but the principal had given me a map, and Mom and Dad and I had looked at it together the night before.

  Mom had started a kind of annoying ritual of after-dinner walks in the new neighborhood. I didn’t mind the walking part, but Mom kept stopping to introduce herself to people and talk to them, which was really embarrassing. If she saw that they had a kid who looked remotely like they were my age or Tanner’s, she practically marched up their front lawn. One night she spotted three girls my age getting out of a car. She called out “Hello!” before I could beg her not to.

  “Hi! I’m Meg!” she said, smiling at the woman who got out of the driver’s seat. “We just moved in on Bayberry Lane!”

  “Oh, hi!” said the woman. “I’m Jill. This is my daughter Blair and her friends Maria and Palmer.”

  Blair gave me the once-over. Mom and I had been arranging furniture all day, so I was just wearing an old tank top and shorts. Blair and her friends were wearing cute outfits. Blair nodded at me, then said loudly, “We’ll be inside. Bye!” She wiggled her fingers, and then her friends followed her to the house.

  I hadn’t exactly been expecting an invitation or anything, but Blair’s mom said, “Oh my goodness. Well, Allie just moved here and would probably love to hang out too. Allie, would you like to come in? The girls are going to watch a movie.”

  “Oh, no,” I said quickly.

  Mom looked confused. “I can come pick you up later,” she said.

  “Or I can just run you home,” Jill said.

  “Maybe another time,” I said, smiling. “Thank you.”

  “You are always welcome to drop by,” said Jill. She looked behind her and seemed surprised to see that Blair had already gone inside.

  Mom chattered on for a few more minutes while I looked down at my feet. “Mooom,” whined Tanner. “I want to go hooome.”

  Jill laughed. “So sorry to keep you. We’ll see you again soon!”

  She and Mom exchanged phone numbers, and then Mom bounced down the driveway. “Isn’t that great?” Mom said. “We just met three girls who will be with you at your new school!”

  Yeah, I thought. Absolutely wonderful.

  Now as I walked down the bus aisle, looking at all the unfamiliar faces staring up at me, I could feel my heart thudding and my face reddening. There weren’t any empty seats in the front, and anyway, all the kids there looked younger than me. Toward the back, Blair, Maria, and Palmer were in two rows, one behind the other, all chatting with their heads bent together. They reminded me of me, Tamiko, and Sierra, and seeing them felt like a stab to the heart, but I headed toward them, seeking familiar territory.

  They were pretty but not overly done up. Maybe they’d be my new friends? Maybe we’d all just gotten off on the wrong foot? As I drew closer, the bus lurched into motion and I was thrown toward the empty spot beside Blair. In a split-second decision, I started to sit down there, but all three girls looked up at me with such cold, withering stares that I gulped and turned to the closest seat. It was next to a boy who sat looking steadfastly out the window. He didn’t even look at me as I sat down, but the girls turned to see where I’d landed and then put their heads back together, whispering and laughing. I’d never experienced “mean girls” in real life, only in books and movies, and I couldn’t believe this was really happening to me.

  My face flamed again, and I was momentarily filled with a surge of pure, white-hot anger at my parents. This new-school thing was not going to be easy, and it was all their fault!

  Right then my phone buzzed, and I pulled it out to see that I had a new SuperSnap from Tamiko. Relief spread through my veins; I did have friends. In my old school I’d been popular, so take that, mean girls!

  I opened the snap and studied the photo of  Tamiko and Sierra in Mr. Sato’s car on their way to school. It said Miss ya, Sistah! and had a big lipstick-kiss emoji on it. I knew they meant well, but it actually made me feel worse. Quickly I silenced the notifications, locked my phone, and slid it back into my bag. My fingers grazed Anne of Green Gables again. I wished I could pull out the comforting and familiar book, but to read something on the bus on the first day would probably just be asking for a snicker. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, then let it out slowly like I’d learned in our mindfulness unit last year. I did it two more times, and then I let my eyes flutter open.

  Yup. Still on the bus.

  It was going to be a long day.

  Okay, my mom was right about one thing: my new school was super-beautiful. I had gotten a small taste of it when I took the school tour, but now I couldn’t help admiring all the swooping open spaces and comfy lounge areas—skylights, and terraces with seating, and plants everywhere. The lockers were all newish and smelled good, and the halls were carpeted so that it wasn’t a total racket when kids were milling around on their way to class. I had to admit that Vista Green was waaaaay nicer than my old school.

  The only problem was that it was really hard to find your way around. I mean, there were no straight hallways. Nothing lined up, nothing made sense, and from minute one, I was lost. I stood in the hall, my bag slung over my shoulder, slowly turning in a circle as I tried to orient myself using the map that the principal had given me. The locker combo they’d given me had worked fine, the schedule they’d given me was very clear, and the office ladies had been pretty nice. But I could not figure out where I needed to go. I tried walking one way, and the room numbers went in the opposite direction of what I’d expected. So I tried walking the other way, but those rooms had letters and not numbers on them. And with each step I took, fewer and fewer kids were walking on the soft sage-green carpeting. I was going to be late.

  Just as I was about to give up and walk back to the office, I spied Blair. My stomach clenched as I looked around for someone—anyone—else to ask for directions from. I clutched the now-damp corners of the map and stared intently at it, hoping she would just pass me by, but she didn’t.

  “Hey, new girl, are you lost?” she asked.

  I looked up. She was looking at me curiously but not meanly. Maybe this was one of those things where the girls were nice when they were apart but not so nice when they were together; I’d read books where that was what happened. There was no way to avoid speaking to her, and anyway she was my last hope, so I took a deep breath and said, “Do you know how to get to the science lab, room C243, by any chance?”

  She hesitated for a split second, and I braced myself for a mean comment. But instead she grinned widely and said, “Sure! It’s easy. Head down to the lower level—that’s two flights down—and it’s right past the pool on your right! You can’t miss it.” She flounced off.

  “Okay, thanks!” I called after her, and I set off down the stairs in relief.

  I was wandering the lowest level, peeking in through the doorway of what turned out to be an empty English classroom, when a series of quiet chimes rang out. I guessed that was Vista Green’s version of the earsplitting jangle that signaled the start and end o
f classes at my old school—also an improvement.

  I was just pulling open the door of what might have been a laboratory, or a library—through the window I could see rows of desks with computers—when I heard a stern voice.

  “Are you meant to be in class, young lady?”

  I turned quickly and found myself face-to-face with a tiny, middle-aged woman, her dark hair long and wavy, a pair of funky rectangular glasses perched on her nose. She was dressed in a chic batik dress with a wide braided leather belt.

  “I—I—” I stammered, holding the map out toward her. “I’m lost.”

  Her expression softened, just slightly. “Oh, you’re new. Where are you meant to be? Let’s see.” In relief I held out the schedule to her.

  “Tsk, tsk!” she tutted. “You’re way off. The science labs are all the way on the third floor. How on earth did you end up down here?” She sighed heavily. “I’d better take you up in the elevator.” She began walking briskly up the hall, her slingback heels scuffing the carpet, as she talked a mile a minute. “I’m Mrs. K. I’m the librarian; that was the library; lowest level is library and English. Reading is very important here at Vista Green; all students must have an independent reading book at all times so that you can Drop Everything and Read. You know, D-E-A-R? If you don’t have a book, come see me . . . .”

  We hopped into the elevator, and she continued her chatter. I tried to answer what seemed like questions (yes, I had an independent reading book; no, I didn’t have English class until tomorrow), but it was as if she didn’t really need the answers. She was on a roll.

  The elevator pinged on the third floor and the doors opened.

  “Take a left, then a right; it’s on your right. Off you go now. No dillydallying!”

  “Thank you. I’m Allie Shear,” I said as I backed away down the hall.