by Ronni Arno
Robert Jackson hugged me.
“I’ve been eyeballing this hoodie at the mall,” Robert says. “It’s, like, neon yellow, and it would totally match my hair. I can’t wait to get it tonight.”
“That’s cool,” I say. And I mean it. Because it’s amazing what new hair can do to your desire for a new wardrobe.
“You should come,” he says.
I blink.
“To the mall,” he says, as if I didn’t understand what he meant the first time.
“Tonight?” I ask.
“Yeah, Wade and I are meeting Christina and Nina there.”
My mind is buzzing, and I wouldn’t be surprised if Robert could actually hear the noise coming out of my ears.
“I’d love to go,” I say, without even thinking about it.
“Awesome,” he says. “My mom’s going to drop me off at seven. We can swing by and get you a little before that.”
“Great!”
“Hey.” Robert takes one last look in the mirror before we leave the bathroom. “Thanks so much for the hair.”
I smile. “It was fun.”
I open the front door, and Robert grabs his skateboard. “See you tonight!”
I wave and then close the front door. It’s only when I reach into my pocket to check my phone that panic rises in my chest.
There’s a text from Kellan.
Can you taste the enchiladas already? Can’t wait til dinner!
Dinner.
I’m supposed to go to Café Ole tonight with Kellan.
How did I forget?
I put my head in my hands. I have to tell one of them that I can’t make it, but I have no idea which one that will be.
chapter
12
“HEY, MOLS.” KELLAN PICKS UP my call on the first ring. “Is your mouth watering yet?”
“That’s why I’m calling.” I choke the words out. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to go tonight.”
“You’re kidding? Why not?” Kellan sounds equally surprised and disappointed.
“I’m not feeling well.” My throat does feel like it’s coated with tiny daggers, so I’m not exactly lying.
“That stinks,” he says. “I’m really sorry to hear it. Maybe my mom can call Café Ole and see if we can reschedule.”
“That would be great,” I say, and my body instantly relaxes. If we could do it another night, my problem would be solved.
“Hold on, I’ll ask.”
I hear voices, but I can’t make out what they’re saying. Kellan must have put his phone down. After a minute he comes back on.
“Mom said it took two months to get this reservation, so she won’t be able to get another one for a while.” Kellan’s voice sounds flat now, and the daggers in my throat move down into my stomach. I should just tell him I’m feeling better. I should text Robert and tell him I can’t make it. But for some reason, the words won’t come out of my mouth. So instead, I say nothing, and for the first time in forever, I don’t know what to say to Kellan.
“I hope you feel better,” he finally says.
“Thanks. I hope you have a good dinner.”
“We will. But it won’t be as good without you there.”
I hang up feeling like maybe I am sick. My head hurts, and my stomach is roiling. But even so, I’m still looking forward to going to the mall. This is my chance to actually make some friends at school, and I won’t lie—I’m super excited to spend time with Robert.
So if I made the right decision, why do I feel so horrible?
• • •
Robert’s mom’s car pulls into the driveway a few minutes before seven. I yell to Dad that I’m leaving and run outside.
Robert’s in the front seat. He doesn’t move to the back when I get in.
Robert introduces me to his mom, who says nothing for the entire drive. In fact, nobody says anything. Robert plays with the buttons on his mom’s radio, looking for a song he likes. This continues until we pull into the mall’s parking lot ten minutes later.
“Thank you, Mrs. Jackson,” I say as I open the back door.
She just nods, then says to Robert, “I’ll pick you up here at nine o’clock on the dot. Don’t be late.”
“Yep,” Robert says as he closes the door. As his mom pulls away, I wonder how someone so happy and upbeat can have a mother who’s completely the opposite. But then I think of my mother and realize how totally possible it is.
“We’re supposed to meet everyone at the food court,” he says. “I can’t wait to see what they think of my new ’do.”
I laugh. “I’m sure they’ll love it.”
“Right?” Robert’s smile takes up his entire face. “It’s awesome.”
There are a bunch of other kids our age at the mall, and they all stare at us as we walk by. But they’re not staring in a bad way. They’re nudging each other and pointing and looking at us with big eyes and smiles. They’re checking out our hair, and it seems they like it. Maybe we’ll start a trend and every kid in Cherry Creek will soon have rainbow hair.
We get to the food court, and Wade, Christina, and Nina are sitting around a table drinking supersize cups of soda and sharing a small order of fries.
“Dude!” Wade yells when he sees us, and Christina and Nina follow his gaze. Nina lets out a little squeal when she sees Robert’s hair, and Christina’s eyes look like saucers.
“Wow,” Nina says as we join them at the table. “Your hair looks so cool!”
“Dude,” Wade says again, giving Robert a fist bump. “Nice. But still not as awesome as mine.” Wade reaches up and pulls on one of his dreadlocks, which, I have to admit, are pretty wild.
“Did you do his hair?” Christina asks me.
“Yeah.” I cross my fingers under the table that she likes it and doesn’t think he looks like a pack of Starburst.
“It looks good.” She smiles, but her lips are squeezed together like she’s trying to hide something stuck in her teeth.
My shoulders relax, and I sit up a little straighter.
“Do you think it would work with my hair?” Nina asks, holding out a section of long, black, shiny hair for me to inspect.
“I don’t know,” I say. “But if I had your hair, I’d leave it as it is. It’s so pretty and shiny.”
“Really?” Nina grins. “Thank you.”
“Maybe we can just do our tips,” Christina tells Nina. “Then the look would be our own. We don’t want to copy other people, you know.”
Nina looks down at the table and nods. “That’s a good idea.” But she doesn’t seem too excited about it.
We leave the food court and find the store with the neon yellow hoodie that Robert wants. Just like he predicted, it looks perfect next to his new hair.
I follow Christina and Nina to the other side of the store where the girls’ clothes are. Everything in here looks like it was custom-made for Eliza.
“Oooohhhhh.” Christina picks up a fuzzy silver sweater and drapes it in front of her. “What do you think of this?”
Nina rubs her hands on the sleeve. “It’s so soft.”
“Let’s try it on.” Christina hands one to Nina and one to me, and we follow her to the dressing rooms in the back of the store.
I slip the sweater over my head and glance in the mirror. It’s tighter than anything I’ve ever worn before and even more sparkly than the clothes I’ve been wearing from the bottom of Eliza’s closet. I turn to the right and then to the left. I pull the bottom of the sweater down, but it won’t go any farther. I debate getting a bigger size.
“Let’s see, girls.” Christina’s voice is singsongy outside of the dressing room. The door next to me opens, and Nina walks out.
Christina looks her up and down. “I don’t know. It’s okay.”
Nina flinches a tiny bit. “It looks really good on you.”
“Well, it is my color,” Christina agrees.
“Molly, maybe it will look better on you than it does on me,” Nina calls t
hrough the dressing room door.
I tug at the bottom of the sweater one more time. It still doesn’t budge. I take a deep breath and slowly step out of the safety of my private little cube.
“Eeeeep!” Nina claps her hands. “You look adorbs!”
“It doesn’t look bad,” Christina chimes in, even though she says it like she doesn’t want to admit it.
“You know what?” Nina bounces on her toes. “We should all get them! Then we could match.”
“But it doesn’t really look that good on you.” Christina looks at Nina like she’s a lost puppy.
Nina shrugs. “That’s okay. It will still be fun to match.”
Nina pulls Christina in on one side of her and me on the other, so we’re standing in a line with our arms around one another, facing the mirror.
“It is pretty cool to match,” Christina says.
And she’s right. It is.
“Let’s do it,” Christina declares. “We can all wear them on Monday.”
My phone buzzes in my pocket just as I finish paying for the sweater. There goes a month’s allowance.
I pull my phone out, and there’s a text from Kellan. It’s a picture of the most mouthwatering nachos I’ve ever seen. The chips are slightly browned at the edges, and the orange cheese oozes over the side of the plate. The black beans are perfectly spaced across the top, and small flecks of cilantro are sprinkled above them.
Wish u were here! Feel better.
Ugh. I take a deep breath to try to clear the guilt from my body, but my lungs feel like they’re out of air. I’ve never lied to Kellan, not once in our ten years of friendship.
“Earth to Molly.” Christina’s waving her hand in front of my face.
“Oh, sorry.” I give my head a little shake. “Just wondering which earrings to wear with the sweater.”
“I know, right?” Christina says. “I’d say anything silver.”
“I agree,” I say, and make a mental note to wear silver earrings on Monday.
We all stroll back out into the mall and walk around a little until Christina puts her arms out, gasps, and points at a mannequin in the window of Windsor.
“That dress would be amazing for my Birthday Bash Brunch.” Christina runs up to a dress rack at the front of the store and holds up a sparkly gold dress that seems to change color when it moves.
“Omigod.” Nina’s hands fly up to her mouth. “It so would.”
The Birthday Bash Brunch. Are they actually talking about the Birthday Bash Brunch?
Robert leans forward to whisper in my ear. “Has Christina hinted at inviting you to her famous Birthday Bash yet?”
I shake my head.
“You do know about it, though, right?”
I nod. Of course I know about it. Everyone in the entire state knows about it. She holds it at her parents’ country club every year, and it’s the talk of the town. Even the adults gossip about it. It’s epic. It’s legendary. It’s also highly selective. Only ten kids get invited.
“Have you been?” I ask him.
“Oh, yeah.” Robert closes his eyes and smiles.
“What’s it really like?” I ask. I mean, I love brunch, but I’m guessing the reviews are pretty overrated.
Robert smiles. “First of all, the food is to die for. They have three chocolate fountains—one dark, one milk, and one white chocolate. And an entire buffet filled with desserts, all you can eat.”
My stomach rumbles just thinking about it.
“And then,” he goes on, “there are the video games. State-of-the-art. And a soundstage to shoot your own music videos.”
“Wow,” I whisper.
“And the goodie bags?” Robert leans closer to me. “They’re filled with the most amazing candy that you can’t even get in this country. And there are always gift certificates to stores, restaurants, and stuff like that—one year she had actual fifty-dollar bills in there!”
I glance around to be sure nobody else is listening and then lower my voice. “So she pays people to come to her party?”
Robert laughs. “No way. It’s just part of the shindig. Believe me, she doesn’t have to pay anyone to go to this party. It’s super exclusive, and every year our entire grade waits to see the invitation list.”
I’ve heard all about it, but never in a million years did I think I’d know anyone who actually went.
“It sounds awesome.” I sigh, dreaming of chocolate fountains.
“Well, you just might get an invitation.” He puts his arm around my shoulder. Robert Jackson has his arm around my shoulder. I zip my jacket up so he can’t see my heart beating out of my chest. “You are most definitely in the running now.”
I swear if Robert’s arm wasn’t around me, I would be drifting at least six inches above the floor.
“When do these invitations go out?” I ask.
“It could be any day now. The party’s coming up. Sometimes Christina likes to send them out early so everyone gets all excited for weeks, and sometimes she sends them out last minute to keep everyone guessing. You just never know.”
I bite my lip.
“Don’t worry.” Robert squeezes my shoulder. “I’ll put in a good word for you.”
We walk out of the store, and Robert still has his arm around my shoulder. That’s why I don’t notice that Kellan and his mom are walking toward us until we are practically right in front of them.
chapter
13
I ROLL AWAY FROM ROBERT’S grasp and duck into the nearest store, which happens to be a LensCrafters. I pretend to be engrossed in a pair of cat-eye glasses with ruby red frames.
“Uhhh”—Robert is standing beside me—“you wear glasses?”
My face promptly turns the color of the frames. “Not really,” I mumble.
“This is an eyeglass store.” He sweeps his arm across the shelves of eyewear. “Why are we here?”
I slip the glasses onto my face and pretend to look in the tiny mirror. “Well, I don’t wear glasses now, but my eyes could get worse at any time.” I look over his shoulder at the people strolling by. I don’t spot Kellan or Mrs. Bingham, but they could still be lingering around. I have to buy some time. “I think it’s smart to be prepared.”
“For when your eyes get bad?” Robert raises an eyebrow.
“Yes.” I put the cat-eye glasses back on the shelf and try on a pair of tortoiseshell frames. They don’t look too bad.
“You really are a planner,” Robert says.
My eyes dart back to the mall. Christina is standing next to Wade and Nina, her arms crossed in front of her chest. She looks annoyed. I scan the crowd, but there’s no sign of Kellan.
“You know what?” I walk toward the store’s exit. “I’ll just come back another time. When my eyes actually start to fail.”
Robert throws his hands in the air. “Suit yourself.”
I catch up with the rest of our group. “Sorry. I just saw something I might need.”
“Well, let’s go,” Christina says. “I’m totally craving a nonfat caramel latte, and we only have half an hour until our parents come to get us.”
“Sorry,” I say again, this time under my breath, and follow them to the coffee place.
What is Kellan doing at the mall at this hour? He hates the mall. Plus, he was using his leg braces, which means he wasn’t feeling great. Another reason to stay far away from the mall. And then it hits me. Café Ole is in this mall! This is definitely too close for comfort.
Luckily, Christina leads us to a table in the corner. Robert and I order hot chocolate with whipped cream (another thing we have in common!), Christina and Nina order lattes, and Wade orders black coffee, which looks kind of disgusting.
“Did you guys see what Maddy Carter was wearing yesterday?” Christina asks in between sips of her latte.
“Who cares? She’s a has-been,” Wade says.
“Well, duh.” Christina rolls her eyes. “But that’s what makes it so ridiculous. She went with her parents to Ita
ly over break, and she came home with all these outfits from Milan. Which would be totally cool if she weren’t the one wearing them. Now she just looks like she’s trying too hard. Right, Nina?”
Nina nods, but she doesn’t take her eyes off of her latte.
“She’s a loser,” Wade says.
“Omigod.” Christina points out toward the mall. “Isn’t that the kid who used to go to our school who got crippled or something?”
I know who she’s pointing at even before I look up. Sure enough, there’s Kellan. Mrs. Bingham is behind him holding a shopping bag.
Nina and I glance at each other for a fraction of a second, but neither of us says anything. I don’t expect her to. She hasn’t been friends with him in a few years. But I know I should. I should defend Kellan and explain to Christina that he’s not “crippled.” He has muscular dystrophy. Mrs. Bingham always says that people are much kinder when they’re educated. Maybe Christina just doesn’t know any better.
But if I open my mouth, Christina might remember that I was actually best friends with him—that I am actually best friends with him. My mind races through the possible scenarios:
1. Christina listens carefully as I explain muscular dystrophy. She feels awful for calling Kellan “crippled” and apologizes profusely. Then she calls him over to join us, because, after all, we’re best friends.
2. Christina ignores what I say and decides that, despite my cool hair and newfound fashion, I’m still a loser.
Both scenarios are equally bad.
So I keep my mouth shut until he passes by. I spend the rest of the night with my eyes glued to the mall, but I don’t see Kellan again.
At nine o’clock we meet Robert’s mom in front of Macy’s, where she dropped us off. She doesn’t say a word to us on the drive to my house. Nobody talks. It’s the quietest car ride I’ve ever experienced.
“Later,” Robert says as we pull into my driveway.
“Thanks for the ride,” I say.
I’m on the front porch before I spot a gift bag hanging on the door handle. I pull it off and peer inside. There’s a card with my name on it.