by Ronni Arno
“Okay, class,” Mrs. Littman begins. “Please pass your homework assignment to the front of the room.”
As Mrs. Littman collects the worksheets, the classroom door opens. Kellan is standing in the doorway, backpack securely placed on his back, leaning on his braces.
“You must be Kellan.” Mrs. Littman claps her hands together, like Kellan is a surprise Christmas gift that arrived on her doorstep.
“Yes, I am.” Kellan smiles at her and then waves at me. “Hey, Mols.”
I sink down into my chair. It’s a good thing I’m sitting in front of Robert so he can’t see how red my face is. Behind me somewhere, someone snickers. I don’t even have to look to see who it is. I already know it’s Christina.
“I believe there’s an empty desk over there.” Mrs. Littman points to the seat next to Nina’s. I can’t bring myself to turn around and watch Kellan get settled in. Instead, I stay motionless in my chair and stare straight ahead. I remain in this exact position for the next forty-five minutes.
When the bell rings, I’m paralyzed. Do I wait for Christina, Nina, Robert, and Wade, like I usually do now, or do I wait for Kellan?
“What does the rest of your day look like, Mols?” Kellan’s voice rings out from behind me.
“Um, pre-algebra next, then history, then social studies.” My voice is barely above a whisper. Kellan is adjusting his backpack onto his shoulders again. Christina is directly behind him as he makes his way up the aisle.
“Hey, Mols,” Christina says, completely mocking my nickname. “Want to walk to class together?”
“Oh, uhhh, sure.” Lately, I’ve been walking to class with her and the group, but she’s never actually asked me before. We just sort of walk. I turn to Kellan. “What about you?”
“I have social studies fourth period too!” He says this like he’s just won the Boston Marathon.
“Well, come on.” Christina pulls at my arm. “I don’t want to be late.”
“Okay,” I say to Christina, then look at Kellan. “See you there?”
But Christina pulls me away before I even hear his answer.
Later that morning, when I get to social studies, Kellan is already there. He’s sitting next to Dylan, who was in our fourth-grade class, and he and Kellan were sort of friendly. Relief washes over me when I see them talking. At least I don’t have to be responsible for Kellan in this class.
When the bell rings, Kellan meets me at my desk.
“Looks like lunch is next.” He’s studying his schedule.
I nod. “Yep.”
“Good.” Kellan shoves the paper into his pocket. “I’m starving. And I’m totally buying all the chocolate chip cookies they have.”
I smile, then look around. Everyone must have left while Kellan and I were talking. Nina, Christina, Robert—none of them even waited for me. Emptiness fills my chest. Kellan’s been here only half a day and already they’ve forgotten about me.
Kellan, Dylan, and I head to lunch. Kellan and Dylan are talking about some video game that I’ve never heard of. When we reach the cafeteria, Kellan’s eyes get huge.
“There’s so many people,” he mumbles to himself as he scans the rows and rows of tables. “Where—how do I get lunch?”
“Molly!” Nina calls to me from our usual table, patting the chair next to her. “Come join us.”
If I weren’t in a room filled with two hundred kids, I’d probably cry tears of joy. They didn’t forget about me after all.
“The lunch line starts there,” I tell Kellan, pointing to the kids waiting for their daily slop. “Cookies are next to the cashier.”
“Okay.” He nods, hesitantly making his way to the line. I should probably go with him. I turn back to the lunch table. Nina’s waving me over.
I glance back at Kellan, who’s now standing in line. He seems okay. He can probably do this without me.
I decide to join my friends at our table. Everyone says hi to me, except Christina. She just kind of nods in my general direction. I’m talking to Nina about the social studies homework when Kellan comes over, a tray balanced carefully in his hands.
Christina stares at us, and my cheeks instantly feel hot.
“You didn’t save me a seat,” he says.
“Oh, sorry.” Now my ears are burning.
“Yeah, this table is full,” Christina says.
Kellan’s leaning on his braces in order to get a better grip on his tray.
“I’m really sorry,” I say quietly.
Kellan scrunches up his face like he’s confused. I wonder if he’s waiting for me to move to another table where there’s room for both of us. But I can’t do that. Christina is getting ready to hand out invitations, and I can’t risk upsetting her now.
Kellan looks around at the crowded cafeteria, and his face goes pale. I’m scouring my mind, looking for something to say, when Dylan calls Kellan’s name from a few tables over.
“Kellan!” He waves. “Come sit here.”
Kellan sees him, and relief floods his face. He turns and walks toward Dylan’s table without saying a word to me.
“Looks like that kid found his people,” Christina says with a smirk.
“What?” I’m not sure what she means by that.
“You know.” Christina juts her chin out. “He’s at the nerd table. It’s a good place for him. He’ll be happy there.”
Robert and Wade laugh. I try to smile so Christina thinks I’m not upset by what she said, but I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. I glance back at Kellan, who’s unwrapping a burrito on his tray. Dylan is talking to him, so I feel better that he’s not alone.
And even though it hurts to hear, maybe Christina’s right. Maybe Kellan has found his people, and maybe I have too.
It’s just that I thought Kellan and I would be friends forever.
When school ends, Kellan and I wait out front for his mom to pick us up. Kellan’s unusually quiet, but it’s not the comfortable kind of quiet that is easy between us. This time the silence feels like a sonic boom.
“So.” I try to keep the conversation light. “How was your first day?”
“It was fine,” Kellan says.
“See, I told you school isn’t as exciting as you remember.” I give him a friendly nudge, but he doesn’t react.
“It’s just . . .” Kellan takes a deep breath. “You seem really different lately.”
My whole body tenses up, and I feel like I’m wearing a suit of armor. “What do you mean?”
“I mean—” Kellan sighs. “It’s like we’re not even best friends in school. You act like you don’t know me at all.”
My heart speeds up inside my chest, and I can hear it thumping all the way up to my ears. “Well, what am I supposed to do? I have friends at school now. I can’t drop them all of a sudden because you’re here.”
“I never said you should drop your new friends.” Kellan looks at me, then down at the ground. “But I don’t get what you see in them.”
“They’re fun. And they like me.”
“They like you?” Kellan snorts. “They don’t even know you.”
“Of course they know me!” My voice sounds squeaky when it comes out of my mouth.
“Oh, yeah?” Kellan’s leaning on his leg braces now, like he doesn’t have the strength to hold himself up. “Do they know that you still sleep with the teddy bear you got when you were seven months old? Do they know that you’ve eaten the exact same thing for breakfast every day for the past ten years? Do they know that you can’t fall asleep without a night-light? And do they know that your parents are fighting and might get—”
“Okay, I get it!” I yell. Tears are pricking my eyes, but I blink them away. “They might not know everything about me, but that comes with time, Kellan.”
“They’ll never learn about you if you constantly pretend to be someone else.”
“I’m not pretending.” I clench my jaw. “Maybe you don’t know everything about me either.”
“I t
hought I did,” Kellan says, and his voice trembles a little.
“Well, I hope you didn’t want to come to school only because of me.” I put my hands on my hips. “That’s a lot of pressure, you know.”
Kellan snaps his head up. “Seriously, Molly?” The fact that he used my real name is a bad sign. “Is that what you’re worried about?”
My stomach is swirling, and I feel like I might throw up. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Don’t sweat it,” Kellan says just as his mom’s car approaches us. “Consider yourself off the hook.”
“Kellan, I—” But he puts his hand up to stop me. Mrs. Bingham’s car pulls up to the curb, and he’s all smiles as he climbs in—to the front seat.
“How was your first day?” Mrs. Bingham gives Kellan a kiss on the cheek.
“It was great.” Kellan’s fake smile lights up the car.
“I’m so happy to hear that!” Mrs. Bingham pulls away from the curb and out of the school parking lot. “It must have been great to be together again, huh, Molly?”
“Yep.” I follow Kellan’s lead and muster pretend enthusiasm. “It was.”
“I’m so glad all went well! How about we go get smoothies to celebrate?”
“Awww, Mom,” Kellan says. “We’d totally love to, but we have a ton of homework.”
I stare at the back of his head. We actually didn’t get a lot of homework today, and the one math worksheet that I know about will probably take Kellan all of ten minutes to finish.
“Well, schoolwork does come first, I suppose. We’ll do it another time.” Mrs. Bingham pulls into my driveway.
“Thanks so much for the ride,” I say.
“See you tomorrow,” Kellan says, as if we are still the best of friends who had the best of days.
And it’s then that I realize how much of the truth Kellan’s been keeping from his mom. He doesn’t share his pain, his fear, or any thought that might seem even a little bit sad.
He reserved all of that for me. And if I’m not his friend anymore, who will he share that with?
I open the front door to my house, run upstairs to my bedroom, and cry.
chapter
21
AFTER A GOOD HOUR OF sobbing I attempt to do my math homework. I get one problem solved before my phone beeps.
A text from Robert.
Christina’s made her decision. Invitations going out tmro!
My heartbeat speeds up, and I type back a quick response.
Any idea who made the list?
I bite my lower lip while I wait for Robert’s reply.
Always a surprise. C likes to keep people waiting.
I close my math workbook. There’s no way I can concentrate on homework now. If I’m on that list, my whole life will change. I’ll officially be part of the group, and that means I won’t have to always be on edge with Christina. I can just be myself instead of having to work so hard to be her friend. And once I’m in, I can get Kellan in too. Then he’ll forgive me for acting weird and we’ll all be friends.
It’s the perfect plan.
All I need is an invitation to the Birthday Bash.
I give up on math and head downstairs for a snack. I’m just toasting some bread for a PB&J when Coco plows through the front door, chocolate smeared all over her face. My mom follows her in, talking on her cell phone.
“I don’t care what he says,” Mom is saying. “Those are billable hours. Look, we’ll talk about this when I get back to the office.” She throws the cell phone into her purse.
“Mommy and me had ice cream!” Coco is twirling around the kitchen.
“Coco, watch your cast,” Mom says, and then turns to me. “Hi there, Molly.”
“Hi, Mom.” I spread some peanut butter on my toast.
“How are you?” She puts her purse on the kitchen counter.
“Fine,” I say. “You?”
“Just busy.” Mom looks around the kitchen. “Where’s Eliza?”
I shrug. “No idea.”
Mom sighs, loudly. “She should be home doing her homework. This is a crucial year for her. Her grades aren’t good. She needs to be worrying about college, and instead, she’s out doing who-knows-what.”
Mom pulls her cell phone out of her purse. She’s holding the phone with one hand, the other hand on her hip. After a few seconds she starts talking. “Eliza. It’s almost five o’clock. Where are you? You need to be home doing your homework. Call me back.”
“She doesn’t listen to her voice mail,” I say, taking a bite of my sandwich.
“What?” Mom’s voice is sharp, like she’s mad at me for being the messenger.
“You have to text her,” I say.
“I don’t have time for this,” Mom says. “I have to get back to the office. When she finally comes home, tell her to call me.”
Mom kisses me on the cheek. “I’ll see you soon, Molly.”
Maybe it’s the anxiety of not knowing if I’ll be invited to Christina’s Birthday Bash or maybe it’s the stress I feel over the fight Kellan and I had, but I want my mom to stay. It’s not that we’re even close or that I miss her since she’s not been living at home. I don’t know what it is, but I do know that just having her home makes me feel a tiny bit better.
“How’s Coco’s arm? Healing okay?” I blurt it out, just as my mom heads out of the kitchen.
“Yes, yes.” She waves her hand in front of her. “It’s healing fine.”
“When will the cast be off?” I follow her to the front door.
“A few weeks.” She puts one hand on the doorknob, then turns back to look at me. “Why the sudden interest in your sister’s arm?”
I shrug and start twirling my hair. “Just curious.”
“We’ll know more at her doctor’s appointment next week,” Mom says. “I’ll be sure to keep you posted.”
From the other side of the door, a loud blast of heavy-metal music plays. Mom purses her lips and peeks out the window.
“Oh, for crying out loud.” She opens the front door and steps out onto the front porch. “Eliza! Get inside right now.”
Over her shoulder I can see Eliza in the driveway with a bunch of her friends. The car radio is blaring. At the sight of my mom her friends pile in the car and pull away. Eliza is standing in the driveway, mouth hanging open.
“What is wrong with you?” Eliza’s hands are placed firmly on her hips.
“I should ask you the same question.” Mom’s heels make clomp-clomp-clomping noises as she goes down the porch steps and comes face-to-face with Eliza.
“I got a ride home from school,” Eliza says. “What’s the big deal?”
“The big deal is . . .” Mom looks at her watch. “It’s almost five o’clock, and I’m sure you have homework to do.”
Eliza crosses her arms. “Are you serious?”
“Of course I’m serious,” Mom says. “I’ve seen your grades, Eliza. You’ll never get into a good college unless you buckle down. Your entire future is at stake, and you’re wasting it on some derelicts!”
“Derelicts?” Eliza’s voice is so high-pitched, I hardly recognize it. “Those people are my friends. They’re good to me. Which is more than I can say for you.”
Mom flinches, as if Eliza slapped her. “And what is that supposed to mean?”
“You show up once a week and lecture me. What kind of parenting is that? You lost your right to tell me what to do when you moved out.” Eliza pushes past Mom, and it’s only then that I realize I’m standing in the doorway. I slink inside to get out of her way. She runs past me and marches up the steps to her room. Her door slams, and a few seconds later the music blares.
By the time I step out onto the front porch, Mom is already in her car, backing out of the driveway.
Eliza is locked in her room, Coco is parked in front of the television, and Dad won’t be home from work for at least another hour. The only thing I want to do is ride my bike to Kellan’s. But I can’t, because he’s not talking to me.
/> I flop down onto the porch swing and rock myself back and forth until Dad comes home with pizza.
chapter
22
I TEXT KELLAN THE NEXT morning and tell him my dad will drive me to school. I ask him if he wants a ride. He doesn’t text back.
The hallway is buzzing. There are a flock of kids gathered around Christina, who’s laughing and flipping her hair and generally looking like the queen of the world.
Did she already give out the invitations? Are the people surrounding her the ones who made the cut? And does that mean I didn’t?
“Hey,” Robert pats me on the back. “What’s up? You look like you’re gonna hurl.”
“I do?” I try to smile, but my stomach is in knots, wondering if I made the Birthday Bash list.
“Yeah. You okay?”
“Just wondering what’s going on over there.” I point to Christina’s locker. “Did she already hand out the invitations?”
“Not yet,” Robert says. “She likes to milk this.”
“Is that why all those people are hovering around her?”
“Yep,” Robert says. “They all want an invite to the biggest party of the year.”
“Why aren’t you over there?” I ask.
Robert smiles. “I’ve been invited for the last four years. I’m pretty sure I’m a shoo-in.”
“Must be nice,” I say.
“Don’t worry.” Robert puts his arm around me, and little goose bumps pop up on my skin. “I put in a good word for you.”
“Really? Think I’ll make the cut?”
Robert shrugs. “I hope so.”
I can’t help but smile, even though part of me wonders if he’ll still like me if I don’t make the birthday list.
Kellan hardly talks to me all morning. At lunch he sits with Dylan again.
Christina barely talks to me all morning too, and although I sit at our usual table for lunch, she’s surrounded by so many other people that I doubt she even notices I’m there. I get up to buy two chocolate chip cookies—both for me, since I doubt Kellan would accept one even if I offered it to him. I’m just paying for the cookies when I bump into Nina, who’s pulling a bunch of napkins out of the napkin holder.