Absolutely Alfie and the Princess Wars

by Sally Warner

  “Hmm,” her mother began. “Well, that proves I was right about your leadership skills, I suppose.And I guess I can remember wanting something so badly that I couldn’t really think of anything else.”

  “Like me,” Alfie said. “Wanting something sparkly,” she added, hinting.

  “And I guess I could put a princess gown together tomorrow,” Mrs. Jakes said. “Those pumpkin muffins might not get baked here at home, but I can always pick up something at the supermarket.”

  “Yummy,” Alfie said, encouraging her.

  “Says you,” her mother said with a laugh.

  Well, yeah, Alfie thought. She was the only person in the kitchen, wasn’t she? Who else was gonna say something?

  “Okay. You’re on,” Alfie’s mother said, giving her daughter a squeeze. “I’m not promising any miracles, Alfie. But I’ll try to do a good job on that gown.”

  “Thanks, Mom,” Alfie said, hugging her again. “You’re the best.”

  “You’re telling me,” her mother said with a laugh. “Sometimes I amaze even myself!”

  12

  Secret

  “It’s your day to carpool, Mom,” Alfie announced at breakfast the next day, Thursday.

  “Why do you look so worried?” her mother asked as she wrapped a second breakfast burrito for EllRay. “I’ve never missed carpool yet, have I? And after I drop you and Hanni off at school, I’m heading out to buy the fabric for your costume.”

  “Some fancy fabric,” Alfie said, sneaking a peek at her brother to see if he was impressed.

  Nope. He just continued to chew.

  “Some fancy fabric for a princess gown,” Alfie said. But EllRay was too busy taking another giant bite out of his burrito even to listen, it seemed. “But, Mom,” Alfie added, lowering her voice. “Please don’t mention anything about the gown to Hanni, okay? Because—it’s a secret,” she said, whispering the last words.

  This wasn’t the real reason she didn’t want Hanni to find out about her costume plans, Alfie admitted to herself—even though every All-Star girl was now officially allowed to be a princess, thanks to her. But Hanni might still be blaming her for that, Alfie knew. And Thursdays seemed like very long days already. Having Hanni stomping around and glaring at her would make this one even longer.

  Tomorrow, Friday, would be soon enough for Hanni to find out.

  EllRay’s head popped up. “Why don’t you want Hanni to know you’re gonna be a princess tomorrow?” he asked. “Why is it a secret?”

  This had to be the part of the conversation he heard?

  Alfie scowled. “I wasn’t talking to you,” she told her brother.

  “Alfie,” her mother warned.

  “Okay, sorry,” Alfie said. “But I wasn’t,” she whispered to EllRay as their mom washed her hands at the kitchen sink.

  “Who even cares?” EllRay shot back as he grabbed his backpack and headed out the kitchen door.

  * * *

  It was a cool morning, and Alfie was secretly glad her mom had made her wear a sweater to school. She hadn’t even argued, for once, because of the whole princess-gown thing.

  “My hair’s getting messed up from the wind,” Hanni complained, stepping out of the Jakes’s car. She narrowed her green eyes and scowled at the sky as she spoke. “And now we’re gonna have to say hi to Principal James,” she added, as if this were the final straw.

  Alfie was barely listening to Hanni, though. She was too busy scanning the school steps for Bella. She had to say something to her newest friend about the princess costume, but what should she say?

  So far, she hadn’t actually lied to anyone, Alfie assured herself.

  And she hadn’t hurt anybody’s feelings.

  But it was like she was floating inside a bubble that was about to pop, Alfie knew. Because tomorrow, her costume secret would be revealed to everyone, especially Bella. And to her mom. And to Bella’s mom.

  Princess Alfie, she thought again, trying to picture it.

  Maybe she should try again to get Bella to be a princess, too!

  But right this very minute, Alfie thought, Bella was probably imagining how great it was going to be tomorrow, with the two of them surprising everyone with their funny bunny costumes.

  How could friends have such different dreams?

  And in another part of Oak Glen, Alfie’s already-too-busy mom might be parking her car outside the fabric store while her lonely laptop—with its story inside—waited at home.

  And at Bella’s house, cheerful Mrs. Babcock was probably stitching the silky insides of bunny ears onto fleece, if a person could even do that.

  And all Alfie could do was to daydream about being a princess.

  Was that such a bad thing?

  “No!” Alfie said aloud in the crowded hall. But Hanni didn’t hear her. She had already charged ahead like a bouncy-haired bulldozer-girl.

  Sure, Hanni was happy, Alfie told herself, frowning. Hanni got to be a princess who didn’t feel guilty.

  Alfie pushed her way through the door to the playground and stepped into the windy morning once more.

  This is all Bella’s fault, she thought, starting to get mad.

  Sure-of-herself Bella, whose bright idea it had been to be a bunny in the first place—in a class full of beautiful Dragon Girls, mermaids, and maybe even a quinceañera pretend-teenager or two wearing dresses that looked like they were made out of puffy pink clouds.

  Bella, who she, Alfie, had invited to be a beautiful princess just yesterday. “With sparkles and a tiara,” she had said.

  But oh, no! Not Bella, who liked to go her own way.

  “Thanks a lot, Bella,” Alfie whispered.

  13

  Almost Heart-to-Heart

  “Hup, hup, listen up,” Mr. Havens told his class after he had put away the All-Stars’ current Shared Reading book. Alfie had barely heard a word of the book, she was so worried about morning recess—and facing Bella.

  What was she going to say to her?

  “It’s Writing Workshop time,” Mr. Havens reminded everyone. “We will continue our unit on Opinion Writing. So, pencils and paper out, please. Quietly.”

  The kids at each table rummaged through their plastic containers of supplies while Mr. Havens printed some words on the board. “Not this again,” one boy grumbled softly.

  “Yes, this again, Bryan,” Mr. Havens said, turning around. “And our topic for today is ‘What Is Your Opinion?’ But first, let’s review. I want each of you to write down one fact about your bedroom. A fact, not an opinion.”

  Alfie thought, then wrote, There is one desk in my bedroom.

  “What did you write?” Scooter whispered, a lock of hair flopping over his forehead. “I can’t think of anything.”

  “Just put down something real,” Alfie whispered back. “Like, write down how many windows your room has,” she suggested.

  “Shhh,” Hanni scolded from the other side of the table. No cheating!”

  “I never counted my windows,” Scooter said, scowling. “Why would I?”

  “And now,” Mr. Havens said, giving Alfie’s table a look, “I want you to write down one opinion about your bedroom. And remember, an opinion is a belief or a feeling. It’s your personal point of view. And if you look at the board, I have written some ways to begin ‘opinion sentences’ for this topic,” he continued. “Just as a reminder.”

  Alfie stared at the board.

  “I think . . .”

  “I feel . . .”

  “Every bedroom should . . .”

  “In my opinion . . .”

  Were they supposed to use all of them? She’d better get busy!

  In my opinion, Alfie wrote, printing as fast as she could, I feel that my bedroom should have a fuzzy zebra-skin rug. I think.

  Phew!

  “Bryan?” Mr.
Havens said. “Since you’re so talkative today, let’s hear your opinion about your bedroom.”

  “Me?” Bryan almost squawked, looking astonished. “I didn’t finish yet, but here goes. ‘My bedroom should have a big TV and bunk beds with a slide and a popcorn maker. In my opinion.’”

  “That sounds pretty complete to me,” Mr. Havens said with a smile. “Now, who wants to go next?”

  And on they went—until the buzzer for morning recess set them free.

  * * *

  “I wanted to talk to you this morning before school,” Bella said to Alfie in the cubby room as they reached into their backpacks for their morning snacks. “Only I couldn’t find you. You didn’t come to the picnic tables. Were you late for school?”

  “No,” Alfie said, shaking her head. “I decided to go down to the log circle, for a change. Sorry.”

  “You went down there all alone?” Bella asked, puzzled.

  “Yeah,” Alfie said, trying for a casual shrug. She did not want to admit the truth—that she’d been hiding out. “Sometimes I do that,” she told Bella. “I like to watch the kindergarten kids play on the slides. Why?” she asked. “What did you want to talk about?”

  “I have some really good news,” Bella said, her golden eyes sparkling. “My mom finished both our bunny costumes late last night, and she said I could ask you over after school, so you can try yours on. We can call your mother from the office,” she said, still smiling.

  Oh, no, Alfie thought. She was not even going to wear the bunny costume tomorrow. But she didn’t want to lie to Bella and pretend she was going to wear it.

  The best thing was to keep stalling, Alfie told herself—because so far, no lies. And lying is wrong, she reminded herself silently.

  Stalling was not going to work forever, Alfie knew, but she didn’t know what else to do. She was “in a pickle,” as her mother would say.

  But she was going to be a princess tomorrow!

  “I can’t come over today,” Alfie told Bella, trying to invent a good excuse—fast. “Because tonight’s a school night, see. And—”

  “I know it’s a school night,” Bella interrupted. “But some of the kids in our class were saying we won’t have any homework tonight. You know, because of the parade and party tomorrow. Come on, Alfie,” she added, a funny look on her face.

  Uh-oh.

  “Will you be mad at me if I don’t come over?” Alfie asked as the last lingering kid left the cubby room. “Because you always seem so okay about everything. Nothing much ever bothers you, Bella, and that’s so cool. Not like with Phoebe and the ladybugs,” she added, searching for an example. “Or like Alan being called on in class. I wish nothing ever bothered me,” she added, looking away.

  It was true. Sometimes everything bothered her, Alfie thought.

  Being asked to take out the trash when it wasn’t her turn.

  Having on the wrong color top when all her friends were wearing pink.

  Hearing one of the All-Star girls say that she had a secret.

  Bella looked surprised. “Some stuff bothers me,” she said quietly. “Like when my mom told me all of a sudden that we had to move to Oak Glen. I had already started second grade in Ventura, see. I’ve moved three times since preschool!” she added, her forehead wrinkling.

  Three times? Wow!

  Alfie could still picture the unpacked boxes in the Babcocks’ spare room. Bella had entered Oak Glen Primary School one month after the semester started, she remembered. That must have been hard.

  She and Bella were having what her mom called a “heart-to-heart talk,” Alfie realized, surprised. Or almost heart-to-heart. Because it wasn’t as if she were telling Bella everything.

  “But moving is a big thing,” she said to Bella, trying to push these thoughts aside. “I mean, moving that fast would bother any kid in the world. I’m talking about how small stuff never bothers you. Like, if one of the boys squirts your water at the drinking fountain during recess. Or if Suzette starts whispering to Lulu right in front of you, and then she tells you to mind your own business if you even look at them.”

  Or if a new friend decides on a costume change at the last minute, Alfie added to herself. She crossed her fingers and hoped this last example was also true.

  “Hmm,” Bella said. “Well, as long as you make friends with someone after you move, you’re okay. But until that happens,” she added, “you just have to learn how to hang out by yourself—because making friends can be hard when you start school late. Kids already have friends by then, see. They’ve probably known each other since forever. That’s why I’m so glad about you and me, Alfie,” she added, suddenly shy.

  Ouch.

  But she was going to be a princess tomorrow, Alfie repeated silently.

  “How come you guys have to move so much?” she asked Bella, mostly to change the subject. She and her friends didn’t usually ask questions about each other’s parents and their decisions. But Bella had brought it up.

  “Because of my dad’s job,” Bella said, shrugging as her suddenly nervous fingers tidied a few things in someone’s cubby. Not her own. As her face had paled, the freckles on Bella’s nose were more visible than before, Alfie noticed.

  “Scooter Davis,” she whispered, reading aloud the masking tape name on the cubby.

  She’d never tell on Bella, though, Alfie told herself—and Scooter was usually so worn out after recess that he probably wouldn’t notice.

  He didn’t even know how many windows there were in his own bedroom!

  “But I guess you’re right, Alfie,” Bella said with another shrug. “Maybe the small stuff doesn’t bother me as much as it does other kids. I mean, maybe I can’t let it, can I?”

  “How come you can’t?” Alfie asked. “Because you’re so worried about bigger stuff happening? Like having to move again?”

  “Something like that,” Bella said, but then she brightened. “We’re gonna have so much fun tomorrow!”

  “Yeah,” Alfie said. “No matter what we wear, right? But listen, Bella,” she continued. “I told my mom I’d help her with something at home after school.” Her heart pounded as she fibbed. “And plus, she’s driving carpool today,” Alfie added. “She has to come to school and get Hanni anyway. So I’d better go home with them.”

  There, Alfie thought, her face burning. Those were two very good reasons why she couldn’t try on the bunny costume Mrs. Babcock had made for her.

  Not that either of the reasons solved her basic problem, which was telling Bella she was not even going to be a bunny.

  But at least that terrible moment was postponed for a while.

  Alfie did not like the confused look on Bella’s face. “Look, Bella,” she continued, tugging at her friend’s sweater to distract her. “There’s still a few minutes of recess left. Let’s go outside and play.”

  “Okay. I guess,” Bella said slowly. She was tilting her head as she looked at Alfie. “Is everything okay?” she asked.

  “Everything is absolutely perfect,” Alfie said, trying not to burst into tears.

  Why did Bella have to be so nice?

  “Look, Bella,” Alfie said again. “I’m sorry about after school. But I’m sure the bunny costume will fit just fine when I wear it tomorrow.” She crossed her fingers behind her back.

  Okay, she told herself—now she was coming pretty close to lying.

  She was right next door to it, in fact.

  “I guess the costume will fit,” Bella said slowly. “I mean, you’re little, and the costume is big. But it’s really cute,” she added, in case Alfie was having any doubts. “And listen, Alfie. I’m just so happy we’re gonna be bunnies together for my first Oak Glen Halloween.”

  “Yeah,” Alfie said, and she tried not to think anymore about disappointing her new friend with this one very small thing.

  Bella could
“hang out by herself” a while longer, couldn’t she?

  Because she, Alfie Jakes, had her own dreams! Her own life to live. And that life involved princess gowns—and having good luck for the rest of the year.

  “So like I was saying,” Alfie continued, “let’s go outside and play. Okay?” she asked again, giving Bella’s sweater another tug.

  14

  Alfie and EllRay

  “Hey, EllRay,” Alfie said that night after dinner as she poked her head into her brother’s room. “Did you ever lie to a friend? Or almost lie,” she quickly corrected herself.

  “Why would I?” EllRay said from where he and Princess lay sprawled on the bed.

  “I dunno,” Alfie said. “So you wouldn’t hurt their feelings?”

  “But lying to someone would be worse than hurting their feelings,” EllRay pointed out. “Because you’d be tricking them. And they’d probably find out about it. Anyway, how do you ‘almost lie’?” he asked, giving Alfie a suspicious look.

  “You might leave out part of the truth by mistake,” Alfie said, thinking fast. “Or you could pretend you’re gonna do something, only you’re really not. You don’t promise to do it, though. Not, like, cross-your-heart. So that’s not really a lie,” she announced.

  “I think it kind of is,” EllRay said, laughing. “I mean, how would you feel if someone treated you that way?”

  Whoa, Alfie thought, catching her breath. She would definitely feel bad if a friend even half lied to her.

  “I would feel not good,” she admitted. “Unless my friend was lying to make me feel better about something,” she added, hope glimmering.

  “Huh,” EllRay said. “It would still be a lie.”

  “What about if your friend gets a bad haircut,” Alfie asked, desperate for a way out, “and they ask if they look okay? What about then?”

  “You tell them, ‘Hair grows,’” EllRay said. “I said that to Marco once.”