by Sally Warner
This was the rule Alan Lewis liked best, of course, Alfie thought, thinking of the shy boy at her table. Alan would probably never raise his hand in class—all year long.
Everything was private with him.
“Mr. Havens might change his mind some day about the volunteering part, though,” Hanni pointed out. “And he gets to read everything, whether we raise our hand or not,” she added, fluffing her wavy brown hair in a way meant to show how irritated she was. Hanni’s hair was still a little wet—from the shower, Alfie guessed, smelling shampoo.
“But Mr. Havens has to read everything, because he’s the teacher,” Alfie said. She gazed out the car window at the houses they passed as she half listened to what Hanni was saying. What kind of private stuff was Hanni writing, she wondered? All she had written was about playing with Princess, doing the old wooden jigsaw puzzles her mom had played with when she was little, and collecting stickers. Especially the puffy kind.
She could not imagine Mr. Havens being too interested in any of that.
Now, if Scooter Davis wrote about playing with matches in his spare time, or if Bryan Martinez wrote about secretly skateboarding down the stairs inside his house, that might get Mr. Havens’s attention.
“So I just made stuff up for my weekend homework,” Hanni whispered, as if she were giving Alfie the solution to some pesky problem.
“Really?” Alfie asked, her eyes wide.
“That way,” Hanni said, “no one can make fun of me if I accidentally write something weird.”
She and Hanni were different in almost every way, Alfie thought. But basically, what Hanni just said proved that different people could want the exact same thing. In this case, to fit in.
“But kids don’t make fun of you,” she told Hanni, staring at her neighbor with wide brown eyes.
“They might start,” Hanni said. “Remember that time when Phoebe read aloud from her journal? When she said she was afraid of ladybugs—because of their houses being on fire in that nursery rhyme?”
“She really got teased,” Alfie said, nodding.
And Hanni had been one of the kids doing the teasing, she thought.
“The boys scared her, too,” Hanni said. “They kept pretending to throw ladybugs on her—for two whole weeks.”
Until Mr. Havens had put a stop to it, Alfie remembered.
She bit her lower lip. Were her classmates going to tease and laugh at her about how she liked to play with her mom’s old wooden puzzles? Did that sound weird?
“We’re here,” Hanni said as usual when they pulled up in front of Oak Glen Primary School. She turned to glare at Alfie as if daring her to complain that she’d said it again.
But Alfie didn’t utter a word.
7
Another Squabble?
“You guys,” Suzette said at one of the second-grade girls’ picnic tables a few minutes later. “Let’s all figure out what we’re going to be on Friday. That way, we won’t clash. We have to look good, don’t we?”
That’s right, Alfie thought. The girls should stick together.
“I want to be a mermaid,” Phoebe said with a sigh. “Only I can’t figure out how to walk around with a mermaid tail. Much less march in a parade,” she added, blushing at the idea.
Phoebe blushed more than any other All-Star kid, Alfie reminded herself, watching the color rise in her new friend’s cheeks. Even Phoebe’s blushing made her blush. But kids were getting used to it by now.
“I don’t think we actually have to march,” Alfie said.
“I want to be a superhero,” Arletty said. “Like Dragon Girl. Maybe that’s what I’ll be.”
“Dragon Girl is beautiful,” Phoebe said, glad to have Arletty become the center of attention. Her blush settled down.
Mermaids, Alfie thought. And beautiful superheroes! They sounded so pretty.
Bunnies were cute, in Alfie’s opinion—but they weren’t pretty.
She gave Bella a doubtful look, thinking of the bunny costumes Mrs. Babcock was probably sewing this very minute.
Would they look too babyish?
Maybe wearing a bunny costume wasn’t the best way to fit in with the other second-grade girls.
Bella looked perfectly relaxed, happy—and not worried at all. In fact, she was actually munching on a carrot stick from her lunch bag, Alfie saw, dismayed.
Just like a bunny.
Now Alfie could feel her own cheeks get hot.
Bunnies were very babyish, she decided, staring down at the picnic table.
“Well, I get to be the princess this year,” Suzette announced, fluffing her hair in advance. “The lucky princess. So I’m calling dibs on that.”
“Nuh-uh,” Lulu said, frowning. “You can’t call dibs on being the only princess, whether she’s lucky or not. Because my mom started making my princess gown last weekend. And I already have a tiara.”
Uh-oh, Alfie thought, her heart beating a little faster. Was this going to be another squabble? The second-grade girls had already lived through one or two big ones this year. And it was only October!
“But my mother went out and bought my princess costume,” Hanni said. “In San Diego,” she added, as if that settled the matter. “And it cost a lot of money, too. We can’t take it back.”
And that’s that, she seemed to be saying.
“But I said it first,” Suzette said, jumping to her feet, as if ready to fight. “I called dibs.”
“So what?” Lulu asked. “I said it second.”
“And my princess dress is already hanging in my closet,” Hanni said. “You guys don’t even have your costumes yet. So be something else.”
“No,” Suzette said, a stony look on her face. “Being a princess this Halloween is gonna bring me good luck for the whole year, and I’m not switching.”
Good luck for the whole year, Alfie thought, impressed. What did that even mean?
Winning every board game you ever played?
Being given extra treat bags at birthday parties?
Discovering buried treasure in your backyard?
Could Suzette be right?
“Well, I don’t care about your good luck,” Lulu said. “Because no way am I gonna switch.”
The second-grade girls at the picnic table almost vibrated with silence for a moment, watching this standoff. Suzette and Lulu and Hanni were friends, they all knew. But each girl was used to getting her own way.
So what was going to happen next?
“Are you telling me that we’re gonna have three princesses in our class on Halloween?” Hanni finally asked. “Because that’s just silly!”
“It’s ridiculous,” Lulu said.
“Yeah,” Suzette surprised everyone by agreeing. “We can’t all be princesses, or there won’t be anyone left to boss around.”
“Well, what are we gonna do?” Hanni asked. “Vote on it?”
“Vote all you want to,” Lulu said with a snort. “But I will still be a princess on Halloween. I’m not gonna disappoint my mom.”
“Vote your heads off,” Suzette chimed in. “But I’m going to be a princess, too. And I’ll have good luck for the whole rest of the year.”
Good luck with that, Alfie thought, grabbing her backpack as the morning buzzer sounded.
Bzzz-z-z!
8
Taking Sides
“Even the boys know us girls are having an argument,” Alfie whispered to Bella the next day, Tuesday. “I mean, it’s a quiet argument, but it’s still an argument,” she said.
They were in Mr. Havens’s crowded cubby room, getting their lunches out of their backpacks. The small room was so noisy that no one could hear what they were saying.
“Not all the girls are arguing about who gets to be princess,” Bella pointed out, clutching her lunch bag to her chest so nothing would spill. “We are
n’t arguing, are we? Just those three girls are.”
“But now other girls are taking sides,” Alfie said. “Whether they want to or not.”
Suzette had snagged poor Arletty to be on her side—since they had gone to preschool together, Suzette said. And Hanni had glommed on to Phoebe, trying to keep up.
Only Lulu did not yet have an official princess supporter of her own.
“But the boys know there’s an argument going on,” Bella said. “Even if they don’t know what it’s about.”
“How could they know?” Alfie asked as they made their way into the hall. “We’ll never blab. I don’t even think Mr. Havens knows what’s going on,” she added. “Not all the details. But he can tell that something’s not right,” she said as they opened the heavy door and slipped into the noonday light.
And Mr. Havens would speak up before too long, Alfie knew from experience.
The second grade All-Star girls ate lunch at the picnic tables lined up on the raised grassy border surrounding two sides of the main playground behind the school. This playground was where the basketball hoops, tetherball poles, painted kickball squares, swings, and monkey bars were. But after lunch, the girls liked to make their way down a grassy slope to the school’s new “nature feature.” This was a sunken, shady play area that had two slides—one straight and one curly, as the kindergarten kids put it—and a circle of upright logs.
The girls liked to pretend the logs surrounded an invisible campfire.
It was their favorite hangout.
Up at the picnic tables, though, the sniping had begun. “That’s a funny thing for Hanni to eat for lunch,” Suzette was telling Arletty—and everyone. “Isn’t it, Arletty? Isn’t mush inside a little plastic container a funny thing to eat for lunch? It’s not something a princess would eat.”
“I don’t know,” Arletty whispered, clearly miserable. Her dark eyes darted from face to face.
Save me! she seemed to be saying.
It looked like Arletty was powerless to resist Suzette.
“Hanni doesn’t even throw the mush container away, like a normal person would,” Suzette continued with a fake shudder.
“It’s yummy hummus,” Hanni replied, laughing. “And of course I don’t throw the container away. I recycle it,” she said, as if explaining something to a baby. “That’s the cool, princess-y thing to do, Suzette—which is probably why you haven’t heard about it yet. Has she, Phoebe?”
“Princesses are too busy to recycle stuff,” Suzette informed Hanni.
“No, they aren’t,” Hanni said. “In fact, they’re the ones who usually come up with great ideas like recycling. And everybody copies them after that.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Lulu said in an airy way from across the table, even though she still hadn’t rounded up even one little follower.
Lulu had already been mean once to Bella this semester, Alfie remembered, and so even though she had apologized, Bella was out. And Lulu and Alfie were friends, having even given a party together a few weeks back. But Alfie had no wish to be bossed around today, or any day. By anyone.
And Lulu could be every bit as bossy as Suzette, Alfie knew.
“What don’t you know?” Hanni asked, pretending to be polite.
“The point is, I don’t think you should be saying mean things about a person’s lunch,” Lulu said. “That’s not very princess-y,” she explained, using Hanni’s earlier word. “Not when you’re wearing that.”
And Lulu pointed at Suzette.
Always-cute Lulu Marino was famous for what she called her “outfits,” Alfie thought as she turned to check out what Suzette was wearing that was supposed to be so bad.
Suzette was just wearing regular clothes. And she looked perfectly fine, in Alfie’s opinion. Cute, even.
“Wearing what?” Suzette said, inspecting her T-shirt.
“It’s just not very fancy, that’s all,” Lulu said, sounding sorry for Suzette. “And princesses always dress fancy.”
“Well, I’m dressed okay,” Hanni said, speaking up as she faced both her rivals. “Aren’t I, Phoebe?”
“Uh-h-h,” Phoebe moaned, as if something she’d eaten had just given her tummy trouble.
“Don’t ask me stuff!” was what she clearly wanted to say.
Poor Pheeb, Alfie couldn’t help but think. Getting trapped this way!
“You should just stay out of this, Hanni,” Suzette advised. “It’s between me and Lulu now, who gets to be princess.”
“Says who?” Hanni asked.
“Says me,” Suzette announced, not backing down.
“Princesses don’t talk like that,” Hanni informed her, wadding up her lunch bag and slam-dunking it into a nearby trash container.
Alfie almost started giggling, but she didn’t know why.
“Oh. Like you’re such an expert on talking,” Suzette scoffed.
“And I’m not staying out of it,” Hanni said. “Because my princess gown is already hanging in my closet. Period.”
“You already told us,” Lulu said. “Nobody cares.”
Wow, Alfie thought, throwing away what was left of her own lunch. That was pretty cold. And Hanni and Lulu used to be friends!
Like, last week, Alfie remembered.
And now, every second grade girl’s meal had been ruined by all this drama, this quarreling. There wasn’t even enough time left to go hang out down at the log circle.
And there were still three days to go before the Halloween celebration.
How long could an argument last?
9
The Princess Wars
“I have to talk to you,” Alfie told EllRay in the family room after dinner that night. “Upstairs. In private,” she whispered, although no one was around to hear.
Their dad was in his home office, doing something with rocks, probably. Their mom was looking up recipes at the dining table.
“Yo. It’s private here,” EllRay pointed out. He was sprawled on the sectional, Princess in his lap and a copy of Sports Illustrated in his hands. He had just finished his “Ratios and Fractions” worksheet. It lay on the table in front of him. Alfie flopped down in an easy chair.
EllRay had been trying to flick through some magazine pages without disturbing the sleeping kitten, but he paused to look at his sister. “What’s up, Alf? You in trouble again?” he teased, his brows rising—just like their dad’s eyebrows did when he asked a question.
“Let’s go upstairs,” Alfie said again. “Mom might come in.”
“She won’t,” EllRay told her. “She’s trying to figure out what snack to make for our class parties on Friday. You know she hates to cook,” he added. “But she says it’s supposed to be something homemade and healthy. So, are you in trouble?” he asked once more, frowning.
“Nuh-uh,” Alfie told him, shaking her head. “But some girls in my class are fighting—in secret. Three of them. And I just wanted to talk to you about it, not Mom,” she added, glancing toward the door. “Or it will turn into this big thing.”
Sometimes, talking to EllRay was the best solution, in Alfie’s opinion. Her big brother could be a pain, but she and EllRay were basically a team. Except you couldn’t be boring or whiny around him, Alfie reminded herself.
And he hated it if you cried.
“Okay,” EllRay said, setting aside the magazine. “Talk.”
Alfie took a deep breath. “Well, those three girls I was telling you about all want to be the same thing for Halloween. A princess.”
“Shocker,” EllRay said, not even trying to hide his grin. “So, let them. What do you care?”
“I don’t care at all,” Alfie said. “But now they’re making other girls in our class take sides. I’m afraid they’re gonna ruin the big day,” she tried to explain. “I mean, by Friday, nobody will be talking to anyone else. None of the girl
s, I mean.”
And those were the main kids she cared about.
“Are you taking sides?” EllRay asked.
“No,” Alfie said, staring at EllRay’s worksheet. But there was still tomorrow and the next day to get through, Wednesday and Thursday. And Lulu had been circling her like a shark all afternoon, determined trap at least one All-Star girl to be on her side.
“And what are you gonna be on Friday?” EllRay asked.
“That’s not the point,” Alfie told him, not wanting to say “a bunny,” or explain about her new friend Bella. Because by now, with the secret princess wars going on, bunnies really did sound kind of babyish.
Anyway, EllRay would find out soon enough, she thought, scowling—at Oak Glen Primary School’s Halloween parade on Friday.
He would probably feel embarrassed for her, or, worse, tease her.
“Then what is the point?” EllRay asked.
“How do I stay out of the princess wars until Friday—and still keep all my friends?” Alfie asked. “I mean, do all the girls in your class still get dragged into fights? Do they even fight anymore?”
“Are you kidding me?” EllRay said, laughing. “They stealth-fight all the time! Not loud, and not all of them. But their feuds can last for ages.”
“Like, tell me about one of them,” Alfie said, leaning toward him.
“Hmm,” EllRay said, thinking. “Well, these two girls Teresa and Natty are still mad at each other about something that happened last year, in fifth grade. They’re always trying to get even with each other.”
“But do Nessa and Tatty make the other girls in your class take sides?” Alflie asked, trying to work the conversation back to her problem.
“Teresa and Natty,” EllRay corrected her. “And they would if they could, I’m sure,” he added.
Alfie nodded.
“But a couple of weeks ago, “ EllRay continued, “our teacher gave the whole class this talk about how lame it was to treat your hurt feelings like they were your most valuable stuff. Something like that. And we all knew who he was talking about. So that made those girls stop for a while, mostly because Teresa and Natty know the rest of us don’t want to get yelled at again.”