This Is All Your Fault, Cassie Parker

by Terra Elan McVoy

  “I don’t think we’re at Domino’s anymore, Eve,” Aja says sideways to Evie when she looks at Allegro’s menu.

  “I know,” I hear Evie whisper back. “Fiona’s so lucky to be rich.”

  I pretend I don’t hear, because first of all my dad isn’t that rich, and secondly Evie’s awe makes me suddenly feel different from her and Aja in a way I wasn’t before. Cassie was mean to make fun of Evie in the library, but spending more close-up time with her helps me see how “oh gosh” about everything she can be. For example, she’s so overwhelmed by all the choices, it takes her forever to choose anything on the menu. In the end she just splits the artichoke pizza Aja orders.

  Still, for a first outing with new friends, it’s a good evening. Until, in the car on the way home, Leelu starts explaining the rules for True Voice Dancing. I love this game, but even after the Disney bonding earlier, there could be a limit to how much little-girlishness someone like Aja can take. The second we’re back at the house, though, she’s asking Leelu to show her what the dress-up clothes are all about. So we get the karaoke machine set up, and Leelu’s practically bouncing off the walls over the fact that we’ll have two actual judges this time instead of a row of Barbies. It takes a few minutes of trying to get her to calm down and act normal before I realize Evie’s got this weird look on her face.

  “Do we really have to sing—alone?” She’s biting the edge of her lip.

  “Oh no. Just lip-synch.”

  That doesn’t help her. “Can I just be the judge?”

  Leelu whips around from where she’s peering into the dress-up trunk. “Everybody has to go. It’s the rule.”

  “But what if—”

  “I’ll pick a good one for you,” Aja reassures Evie. “One you know. It’ll be fun. Or we can do a duet.”

  That helps Evie relax a little, but she still refuses to perform until the rest of us have, which seems weird, since she doesn’t mind singing in chorus. Once she sees that no one could look more spastic than my little sister when she’s fake belting Tina Turner while gliding around in an old party dress of Mom’s, though, Evie cheers and claps and eventually she’s laughing so hard at Aja’s performance that I think she’s going to hyperventilate.

  To my surprise, TVD with Aja and Evie is even more fun than with Cassie. Cassie’s always stopping us in the middle of a song, correcting our performances and saying to start over, treating it like a real TV show instead of a game. But Aja and Evie let loose just like my sister. At the end, when Leelu is (of course) proclaimed the winner, Aja takes a selfie of the four of us and posts it right away without having to retake it five more times like Cassie would. It’s so liberating I don’t even care if Cassie sees it somehow.

  It’s late by then, so we change into our pajamas and settle down for a movie.

  “What about Into the Woods?” I suggest. If Aja likes Disney, she might appreciate this too.

  “Oooh.” Aja claps her hands. “It’s not that scary,” she reassures Evie.

  I go to the kitchen for the desserts we picked out earlier, and then we pile up the couch pillows and splay out. Leelu falls asleep within the first ten minutes like usual, but that’s a good thing because the movie is pretty dark after all. At this one part when Meryl Streep is being particularly ugly, Aja goes, “Well, hi there, Cassie Parker,” and stretches across the cushions to high-five me. Evie giggles, but checks my expression to see what I think. Aja doesn’t know what a good listener Cassie is, or everything we’ve been through together, but sitting here in my big entertainment room, with my cute little sister curled up next to me, and a new friend who’s so sophisticated she doesn’t care what anyone thinks about her, I don’t feel bad at all.

  “So did you have a good time?” Mom wants to know when she checks in on Saturday night.

  “It was fun,” I tell her.

  “And does Cassie like them as much too?”

  “She doesn’t know them as well.”

  I don’t know why I’m still not telling Mom that Cassie wasn’t there. Or that she dumped me in front of the whole cafeteria to sit with the awful girls who stole my diary. Maybe it’s because I’d rather cling for a little while to the good feeling of having Evie and Aja over. How nice it was not to feel shy about being silly in front of people other than Cassie, or how great it was to do the fun things she and I used to, without also having to talk about Kendra, or look at fashion boards on Pinterest that I’m not that interested in. Besides, I still don’t know how to make sense of what happened between us to a grown-up who will want to come in and fix everything. I don’t know how to explain the alien feeling of having a good time without my best friend. Besides, maybe Cassie will still call me tomorrow.

  Luckily, even on a Saturday night Mom likes to keep our check-ins short, so she doesn’t push.

  Still, my inability to talk to Mom about what’s happening brings Cassie right back to the forefront of my mind, and it’s much harder to dismiss her the way Aja thinks I should. All weekend I hear nothing from her—making this the longest we’ve ever gone without talking or texting. I can’t help but wonder if Cassie’s too embarrassed to reach out to me. It’d be terrible if our friendship was ruined forever because of pride. Especially with only two weeks of school left, before we plunge into summer and could be needlessly separated for months. Maybe if I’m the one to make the first move, we can get things resolved and there won’t be anything I have to explain to Mom at all.

  Even if I’m willing to try something like that, it’s still important to know for sure if that’s what Cassie wants before I make a fool out of myself, so back at school Tuesday morning I decide to utilize our Harriet the Spy tactics for some Cassie stalking. It’s much less fun on my own, and I have to keep a pretty big distance—I really can’t have Izzy catching me lurking around, let alone Cassie. Being way too paranoid to write anything out in my diary anymore complicates things even further. I take notes on a small spiral notepad instead, and tape them in the pages of my diary when I get home. It just isn’t safe to bring it to school, and I feel weird about writing too much in it for some reason. Over the course of the week, though, I assemble a few crucial tidbits:

  She went shopping over the holiday weekend. New white leather jacket looks expensive. (Note: What rewards from her GPA/chore competition with Tom did she forfeit to get something so extravagant? Memorial Day sale K took her to?) Also new ankle boots like the rest of them: cowboy-saddle brown, though, and not as fancy. Boots worn 3x this week. Note from outfit 6/1 (black-and-white striped tunic, rose-print scarf, leggings, flats): likely she intended to wear leather jacket 2nd time, but decided at the last minute not to.

  Completely abandoned any hallway activity involving Lagoon. First couple days assumed she’d given up her crush, until 5/31 seen staring after him in the cafeteria while he was clearing trash, everyone at K’s table busy soothing Neftali (over something ridiculous).

  Sits in the courtyard with K’s gang every day before school, but K makes C walk two steps behind while they travel there from the bus. Also (throwback to third grade for some reason? Initiation rites?), C sits on the cement wall beside K’s table instead of on bench, even when there’s room. (Note: need better vantage point than the far windows across courtyard in hidden spot from 6th grade wing if to investigate/understand further.)

  C does not seem to mind either of above. Watches new friends’ faces and reacts with perfect laughter/distress/other called-for emotion. Telltale signs C loves this new situation: Sits up very straight w/ knees together. Casts brief, but happy glances beneath her lashes around the courtyard, making sure people notice who she’s sitting with. She is definitely now in their group.

  Most hopeful AND despairing observation: C clearly upset seeing me in science. Arrives daily just seconds before the late bell, looking purposefully away from my seat. Two bright red spots on her cheekbones, and (if hair in ponytail or bun, or neck otherwise exposed) back of her neck also red. Meaning: angry, mixed with embarrassed. Never turn
s in my direction, even if instructed to change seats for group work or look at classification posters at the back of the room by teacher.

  Conclusions:

  C avoiding me. But by revealing discomfort, acknowledges I exist. What’s happening between us makes her unhappy. At least agitated. Still no action taken to cross divide in spite of easy proximity, however.

  None of these observations make it any easier to talk about it all week, so I avoid the subject of Cassie altogether while we’re back over at Mom’s place. The information I’ve gathered is a little too confusing, anyway. There are times, during my spying, when I’ll catch Cassie looking off into space, or obviously faking a laugh, when it seems she isn’t that happy with her new situation and might text me the second school is over. Other days, her radiant delight in all things Kendra twists my insides with jealousy and despair. I try to stay away from online stuff for that same reason, but it’s impossible because I’m constantly wondering what secrets they’re sharing, if they’ve invented their own language, what new games they have. All they post are selfies or pictures of each other, though. Still, I stare at them, wondering what Cassie’s said about me, or if she’s said anything at all.

  By chorus on Friday afternoon, I’m itchy and edgy—not even seeing Tyrick first thing in the morning has the same thrill it did when I was with Cassie. I’m not sure how to improve my mental state at all, especially since I still can’t bring myself to write in my diary, and worse, Mom has a floor show of a bunch of importers to attend, where she’ll be looking for new furnishings for her clients. Leelu and I have to tag along with her, so there’ll be no chance to distract myself with anything fun like last weekend.

  Next to me, Evie slaps her music folder against her chair and huffs, “Uch.”

  Instantly I’m glad not to be alone in this bad feeling. “You too?”

  She flops down, shoulders drooping over and legs splayed out. “Spirit Week,” she groans.

  In spite of the intercom announcements, posters, and school-wide email blasts, I’ve been so focused on Cassie that I forgot all about it.

  “The last thing I want to think about during the final week of school is how much I love school,” Evie says. “I want to think about how much I want to get out of school. And never come back.”

  “You don’t have to participate, you know.”

  “Except if you don’t, you look like a nobody.”

  Evie means that if you don’t, all the popular people—who love Spirit Week, and go all out for each day’s theme—will make you feel stupid for not doing the same.

  An idea hits me. “What if you did the opposite?”

  Her brow crinkles.

  “I mean, what if we did,” I correct. “What if every day of Spirit Week next week, instead of something like Rock Star Day, we wear the exact opposite.”

  “You mean have on San Carlos colors the last day instead?”

  I grin. “You got it.”

  “Gosh, Fee. That’s—”

  My smile curls into something that feels almost as cunning as one of Cassie’s after we’ve concocted another great collaboration. She may be living her dream of being part of the trendy crowd now, but from what I’ve observed, that mainly looks demeaning and stressful. Thanks to Aja and Evie, I’m not afraid of sticking out anymore. At least, not as much. And, besides, I’ve found a project to help me get through another weekend without Cassie around.

  “It’s brilliant, right?”

  Chapter Seven

  Evie and Aja go crazy over my Reverse Spirit Week idea. With five different outfits to coordinate, suddenly there are a ton of opinions between the three of us, none of them melding as smoothly as when Cassie and I invented something together. Immediately after school on Friday, Evie sends me and Aja a bajillion updates from a Pinterest board she’s making of punk rock outfits, until Aja reminds her that on Dress Like a Rock Star Day, we’re actually going as grandmas. There’s so much back-and-forth in not even an hour, I feel almost as confused and distracted as Mom gets when her clients are in a decorating frenzy.

  By the time dinner’s over, it’s clear that it’ll be way easier if we can plan together in the same place, so before Mom settles in to read Leelu and me our bedtime chapter, I ask if our neighbor’s son Julio can come “watch” us while Mom’s in Santa Cruz at her show. Julio graduated from college last spring, but he still lives with his mom, Mrs. Carroll, and sometimes babysits after Maritza’s hours, or helps with the tiny excuse we have for a yard.

  “I love Julio!” Leelu exclaims, arranging her stuffed animals around her.

  I forgot to factor in my sister. “You still have to go with Mom.”

  Immediately she begins to yowl. “How come Fiona gets to stay home? I hate those things.” She squeezes her hands into fists. “They’re so boring!”

  I don’t want Leelu to have to go either, but my friends and I need to focus, and I’m just not sure she won’t be a distraction, especially if this is her immediate reaction.

  “Leeluni September, you know that isn’t how we communicate what we want in this house,” Mom says, before addressing me. “Wouldn’t this all be easier to do at Cassie’s? I’ll text Serena. I’m sure Tom will be at home. We can even pay him some extra babysitting money.”

  The combination of my sister’s painful wailing, my mom’s sudden exasperation, plus her assumption that Cassie would be involved throws me off guard.

  “Um. We can’t.”

  “But why ever not?” She tells Leelu to be quiet or else she’ll really be punished.

  “Because we’re doing it on different teams,” I blurt. “And it, ah, has to be a surprise. Leelu can help,” I throw in, if only to make Mom stop asking about Cassie. I can tell her the whole story later, when she’s a little less stressed and we’re not in the middle of an unexpected Leelu meltdown.

  Immediately Leelu looks hopeful at me. “I can take notes.”

  “Or something,” I say. “Mom, please? We need to do this fast.”

  “You’re the one to call Julio.” Mom points a finger at me. “And you”—she aims a disapproving eye at Leelu—“are absolutely under your sister’s watch, and if I hear even the tiniest complaint from her, it’s no screens for a week.”

  Leelu puts on a sheepish face and nods. I know my own is mimicking hers.

  “All right,” Mom says, taking a breath and opening the book to our marker. “Now let’s try to get settled, girls, shall we?”

  Miraculously, everything comes together. I make all the necessary calls on Saturday morning, and luckily, everyone can come over that afternoon, including Julio. He hangs out in our living room on his phone, while the four of us pile on Leelu’s and my twin beds and make our plans. It was silly of me to worry about Leelu being a distraction. She takes careful notes on her unicorn-covered clipboard, to keep us organized while we brainstorm and talk, and even offers up some fantastic treasures from her dress-up trunk. Her suggestions for International Day and Future You Day are priceless, too. Once again I’m grateful my sister makes such a great partner, even if she is two and a half years younger.

  By the time Aja’s dad comes to pick my friends up at three, we’ve made copies on Mom’s printer of our final outfit lineup, complete with any action points we still need to accomplish. I’m still not putting down any real feelings in my diary, but it’s weird not to record anything about such a big, productive day, so I tape in our list:

  Day One: Dress to the Nines Day

  [SCHOOL: Pajama Day]

  —as over-the-top fancy as you can get!!

  —don’t forget makeup if you have any

  Day Two: International Day

  [SCHOOL: All-American Day]

  —make T-shirts with Sharpies or fabric paint for favorite flag of a foreign country:

  Aja: Democratic Republic of the Congo

  Evie: Brazil

  Fiona: Haiti or France (?)

  —Speak in foreign accents all day?

  —Bring lunch that matches c
ountry?

  Day Three: Dress Like a Grandma Day

  [SCHOOL: Dress Like a Rock Star Day]

  —find old nightgowns, robes, slippers, old dresses? Curlers?

  —Aja: get that walker out of the garage from Grandpa Ned’s stay

  Day Four: Future You Day

  [SCHOOL: Retro Day]

  —Aja: music-executive/mega-pop-star combo

  —Evie: still not decided. Astronaut?

  —Fiona: famous author; re-cover favorite books with titles that have her name on them

  Day Five: Rival Spirit Day

  [SCHOOL: School Spirit Day]

  —yellow and white outfits!! Go San Carlos!!

  — don’t forget your yearbooks if you haven’t brought them all week

  Final note: partnering with Leeluni September + new (fantastic) friends = I don’t miss Cassie one single bit.

  All the other students get so excited about the idea of wearing pajamas to school, but I think it’s much more fun that Evie, Aja, and I are going over-the-top fancy. Aja has a long formal dress she wore to her cousin’s black-tie wedding, and though Evie feels shy that she only has an eyelet sundress, I know that draped in the dozens of long fake pearl strands Leelu gave her, she’ll look great. I decided on the green taffeta dress I wore for the Women in Business gala where Mom got that award, since Tyrick’s favorite color is green. Though I’ve apparently escaped the danger of him finding out my secret, I still want him to notice me.

  Securing Leelu’s old tiara on top of my head, I can’t wait to parade around for the first time as part of an original-looking group, instead of being a ho-hum joiner in flannel pants with the cuffs dragging under some raggedy slippers. Cassie and I would never have had the nerve to do something like this just the two of us, but like Aja said over the weekend, this will definitely make an impression, and with her around I know that’s a good thing. Maybe we’ll even convince some other kids to do the opposite during the week, like Aja hopes River and his friends might. Which would mean maybe even Tyrick too, since he hangs out with them.