by Annie Bryant
A couple of people giggled, a little uncertainly. Charlotte had no clue what Anna and Joline were talking about, but Isabel had turned bright red. G.H.? Who was that? Isabel couldn’t possibly be interested in a ninth-grader—that was silly!
Katani coughed, as if trying to signal something to Avery. But Avery, who thought gossip was even sillier than shopping, was immersed in drawing a row of soccer balls on the front of her notebook.
Ms. Rodriguez cleared her throat. “Hmm,” she said, scanning ahead. “I’m not sure if—”
“Come on, come on! You can’t stop now!” a few kids pleaded.
Ms. Rodriguez continued reading, but she looked uneasy. “Who says that out-of-style clothes aren’t making a comeback? Did we see a certain B.F.…” Ms. Rodriguez stopped, frowning. “I don’t think this one is made for sharing,” she said firmly, setting the paper down and giving Anna and Joline a reproachful look. “I don’t think a public forum like a newspaper is any place for comments that might be hurtful,” she said disapprovingly. “I think I’d like to move on, if you don’t mind.”
Anna and Joline caught each other’s eyes and gave each other one of their trademark expressions. Not for nothing, Charlotte thought, did Anna have that sticker on her locker that said, “It’s an inside joke—and you’re on the outside!” That was how she and Joline made everyone feel.
B.F.—wearing out-of-style clothes. Was that supposed to be Betsy? Fortunately, Betsy didn’t seem to be paying much attention. She had her head deep in her planner, writing notes to herself. Ms. Rodriguez had saved her from embarrassment.
Maeve’s piece was next. She hadn’t turned in the letter that she’d written from the girl who was trying not to feel like a failure. She still didn’t have an answer yet for that letter. But she’d written three separate letters to “Maeve,” all from girls having trouble getting guys to pay attention to them. The last letter was her favorite. She tried to look knowingly in Dillon’s direction as Ms. Rodriguez read the letter.
“Dear Maeve: My mom and dad have signed me up for Social Dance Class and I’m totally terrified that the guy I like won’t even figure it out by then. How can I drop him some subtle hints so he knows to ask me to dance?” Signed, “Hoping to Dance With Him—Brookline, Mass.”
The class looked riveted, including Dillon, though clearly he had no idea the letter had anything to do with him.
“Read the answer!” he called out. He gave Pete a nudge. “Listen up, guy. I think this could be kind of important for you,” he told him.
Ms. Rodriguez smiled as she scanned the answer. “Dear Hoping, What kind of prehistoric era are you living in? Why don’t you ask him to dance yourself? Chances are he likes you too, only he may not have the guts to show it. Once you get him out on the dance floor, the sparks will start flying!”
The class went crazy. Dillon started thumping Pete on the back, which Maeve found completely mystifying—did Dillon think she liked Pete? How thick could he be? Even Riley sat up and looked interested when everyone else started stamping and whistling.
“OK, I think we need to move on,” Ms. Rodriguez said, holding up her hand. Turning in Maeve’s direction she said, “Maeve, you captured the magazine advice format perfectly. Excellent job.” No one had ever complimented Maeve on her writing before. She was stunned and almost felt like crying…with joy this time.
For the rest of homeroom, everyone listened with fascination as they heard one another’s work. There were book reviews, editorials, and even several pieces of investigative reporting. Abby Ross had interviewed two of the women who worked in the cafeteria. Avery and Pete’s sports column was really well received, as was Katani’s “Fashion Corner.” And everyone loved Isabel’s cartoon.
Charlotte knew she didn’t have to worry about Ms. Rodriguez reading hers out loud. She’d written in red letters across the bottom of the page, please don’t share this!! And she knew she could count on Ms. Rodriguez not to embarrass her.
Charlotte could barely read the piece she’d written herself without cringing. It seemed so corny now to think of writing about something like “belonging.” Hah! I don’t belong anywhere, she thought unhappily. Not on The Sentinel. Not at Abigail Adams School. Not even up in the Tower anymore. Normally Charlotte would have loved having the chance to listen to her friends and classmates’ creativity. But not this morning. She was barely dragging herself through the motions—she didn’t even really want to be here at all.
PRETTY AMAZING…
“So—you’re sure you can help me?” Maeve overheard Avery ask Katani. The two girls were standing together near their lockers, and Avery was writing a note to herself on her arm. “Call Katani! Help with website,” she’d written in bright orange marker.
Maeve was just about to comment—usually, she’d say something like “Ugh, Avery, don’t you think all those ink chemicals are going straight into your bloodstream through your pores?” But then she remembered: they weren’t really talking to each other.
She opened her locker, making as much noise as possible, keeping her back to Katani and Avery and pretending like it made absolutely no difference to her whatsoever that her two best friends—ex best friends, she reminded herself grimly—were chattering away right behind her. She couldn’t even share with them how excited Ms. Rodriguez’s comments on her writing had made her feel. It gave her kind of an empty feeling inside.
Katani and Avery seemed to be hamming it up for her benefit. Since when were the two of them such major confidantes, anyway?
“I just can’t believe he asked me,” Avery said. She sneaked a look over at Maeve. “Can you?”
Who had asked Avery what? Maeve couldn’t stand it. They knew how curious she was!
“I know,” Katani went on. It felt like she was looking straight at Maeve the whole time she was talking. “I couldn’t believe it either—when you told me. But you know, it really makes sense, Avery. You’re a pretty amazing girl.”
Maeve’s face began to burn. They were torturing her. Who had asked Avery what? Tell me! She shrieked inwardly.
“But you know, this is all so new to me,” Avery continued. “You really think I’ll be able to handle this? You know my parents are totally, one hundred percent opposed to it. One hundred percent,” she repeated earnestly—as if for Maeve’s benefit.
“Don’t worry, girlfriend,” Katani said chummily, linking arms with Avery. “After school, OK? We’ll go to work. And you won’t be sorry you asked me for help.” This last comment she said even more loudly than the rest, giving Maeve a superior look as she and Avery, arm-in-arm, hurried away together.
Right, Maeve thought angrily. I get the point, Katani. Like I should’ve let you help me, instead of blowing it and asking Isabel to help instead. I get what you’re trying to say. Only I don’t happen to agree!
Why couldn’t more than one friend help? The blanket project had become enough of a mess for a whole army of friends to get involved! She moved away down the hallway, still dying to know what Avery and Katani had been talking about.
Suddenly, Maeve got it. Someone must have asked Avery to Social Dance Class! That must be it! What else could possibly have her wanting Katani’s help? And she’d said she was new at all of this. And that her parents didn’t like it! No doubt about it, Avery had snagged an invitation to the dance.
But from who?
“I can’t believe he asked me,” Avery had said.
“Me, either. But you’re an amazing girl,” Katani had told her.
Maeve’s mouth felt dry. It couldn’t be Dillon—it just couldn’t be. However mad Avery was at Maeve, she wouldn’t do that to her.
Maeve walked slowly toward the lunchroom, her heart pounding. It all made terrible sense. Avery and Pete had gotten pretty friendly lately—first, working together on their sports piece for the journalism assignment. Pete was good friends with Dillon. And—Maeve remembered with a sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach—for the past week now, Avery and Katani had been eating lu
nch with Dillon and Pete, every single day.
So that’s what they’re doing to get back at me, Maeve thought miserably. Avery’s started flirting with Dillon, and now he’s gone and asked her to the dance, and I’m…I’m…
She couldn’t even finish her thought. She just wanted the floor to open up right then and there so she could crash right through it.
Avery didn’t even want a boyfriend yet. And she hated dancing. Why would she go to the dance with Dillon—unless she just wanted to break Maeve’s heart? This was getting worse and worse by the minute.
Just then Riley walked by. Head down, he mumbled a garbled “Hello.” Maeve answered, if somewhat dispiritedly. “Oh, hi Riley—nice review.” That was the thing about Maeve. She always had a good word for everyone, even if she felt miserable herself.
THREE AGAINST TWO
“You guys seem awfully quiet today,” Isabel said at lunchtime.
Quiet was an understatement. Maeve was slumped in her chair, watching morosely as Avery and Katani laughed themselves silly over at the next table with Dillon and Pete.
Charlotte didn’t have much to say, either. She’d actually brought a book with her from the library and was tempted to start reading it—since Maeve didn’t seem to feel like talking, and she didn’t either.
Suddenly, Maeve sat up and gave Isabel a piercing look. “Hey,” she said, “What was with that thing that Anna and Joline said today—about ‘a new girl’ crushing on some ninth grader named G.H.? Were they talking about you?”
Isabel blushed. This was the second time she’d reacted that way when “G.H.” was mentioned, Maeve noticed.
“They’re silly,” she said lightly. “If they’re talking about Gordie Hines, he’s just a good friend of my sister’s. That’s all.”
Maeve took a bite of her sandwich and put it back down again. “Yeah, well, silly is right when it comes to Anna and Joline.” She sighed heavily. “But I’d still watch out if I were you, Isabel. You don’t want them spreading gossip about you.”
Isabel shrugged, with a “who cares?” look on her face. “Nobody believes that kind of garbage,” she said, flipping back her hair. “Hey, Charlotte,” she said, changing the subject. “How are things going with your dad? Have you tried the reverse psychology plan I told you about?”
Charlotte frowned. “Yeah—I tried it. It didn’t work very well,” she said slowly.
“Really? Are you sure you did it right?” Isabel demanded.
Charlotte looked uncertain. Remember the Charlotte klutz-factor, she thought. It was entirely possible that she’d managed to botch this, too. “I thought I was doing it right. But it definitely backfired, Isabel. I started telling my dad all the reasons that it would be really great for him to think about taking the job—and how he shouldn’t worry about me anyway. And the next thing I knew, he was agreeing with me!” Charlotte’s lip started to wobble. “I feel like a number-one idiot. I think I talked my dad into taking the job!”
She could feel tears coming, and Charlotte hated having people see her cry. She jumped up and mumbled something about needing to go to the bathroom, leaving Isabel and Maeve staring after her. Here I go again, she thought miserably. Another botch-up from Charlotte the klutz. Trust me to take an ace plan and turn it into a disaster.
Isabel jumped to defend Charlotte. “Oh no. It’s my fault, I never should’ve told her about the reverse psychology thing. It’s just that it worked so well when Elena Maria did it!”
Maeve bit her lip. “Isabel, we’ve got to help Charlotte. This is terrible,” she said quietly.
Everything else seemed to pale in comparison to this.
“What are you going to do?” Isabel demanded, watching as Maeve got to her feet, her face dark with determination.
“I don’t know,” Maeve said, marching over to the table where Katani and Avery were sitting. “But even if we’re all mad at each other, I know that we have to help Charlotte. And we can’t do it alone!”
CHAPTER 12
Beacon Street Girls to the Rescue
OK—say something,” Isabel whispered.
She and Maeve had walked boldly over to the next table where Katani and Avery were sitting with Dillon and Pete. But now that they were actually there, every word seemed to fly right out of Maeve’s head.
“No—you,” she whispered back.
“Forget it. I’m new!” Isabel hissed.
“Fine!” Maeve said. She marched up to the table and looked straight at Katani and Avery. Then her composure broke a little. “Uh…hi,” she said weakly.
Katani just looked at her. Avery twisted her Red Sox cap around, a sure sign that she was feeling fidgety.
“Can we talk to you guys?” Maeve blurted out.
“Ladies!” Dillon cried, with fake gallantry. He tried to pull a chair back for Maeve, but knocked it over instead, sending his drink crashing down at the same time. Some of it splattered across the table. Katani jumped up like it was poison, jerking back the edge of her sweater and shooting a look at Maeve.
As if everything is my fault these days, Maeve thought. Geez!
“Actually,” Maeve said, taking the chair Dillon had offered her and trying to set it right, “uh, Dillon, Peter, we kind of need to talk to Avery and Katani…alone.”
“Girl talk,” Isabel added hurriedly.
Dillon pretended to be hurt. “Please,” he shrieked. “Don’t worry about us! Don’t worry that we’re only halfway through lunch! Don’t worry that there are no other seats free in this whole cafeteria!”
Maeve winced. She couldn’t believe she was actually asking Dillon Johnson to leave. Here was the perfect opportunity to sit next to him and get in a good solid ten minutes of flirting time—and maybe give him the perfect opportunity to talk about Wednesday night.
Focus, Maeve, she warned herself. Charlotte. Charlotte is what is important here.
“I’m so sorry,” she said. She actually did feel bad, and she didn’t even try to sound flirtatious, which seemed to surprise Dillon. “You guys don’t have to leave. Can we just kind of borrow Avery and Katani?”
Dillon gave her a funny look. “Hey. I was kidding,” he said. He got up, really offering her his chair this time. “Take it, Maeve. Pete and I are going to go shoot some hoops anyway. Aren’t we, Wexler?”
Maeve watched them leave. Dillon is actually a nice guy, she found herself thinking. Cute, yes—actually beyond cute. But also nice. She didn’t know why that came as kind of a surprise.
“So,” Avery said, from under the brim of her cap. “What’s the big deal here? Why are you invading our lunch table? Where’s Charlotte?”
“Charlotte,” Maeve said dramatically, “is the problem.”
“I happen to think there are several problems here,” Katani said stiffly, sitting up in the straight way she did when she was really irritated. She gave Isabel a look.
“Katani,” Maeve cried. “We’re in a desperate mess and we can’t possibly make it any better if we don’t work together!”
“Mess? What mess?” Avery demanded.
“Well, you remember that Charlotte was going to try to get her dad not to take the job in England,” Maeve began.
“I remember,” Katani said. “Isabel had that great plan,” she added, her voice filled with sarcasm. “What was it called again? ‘Reverse’ what?”
“Reverse psychology,” Isabel said sorrowfully, hanging her head. “It backfired, Katani. Big time.”
“Really?” Katani said, with feigned surprise.
“Katani, stop being so rude and help!” Maeve snapped.
Avery looked interested. “How did it backfire? I thought it was kind of a cool idea, actually.” When Katani shot her a look, she added, “Well, it was.”
Isabel shook her head. “It sounds like Charlotte’s dad was just looking for an excuse to be excited about going. So every time Charlotte tried saying something kind of enthusiastic about the prospect of England, he jumped on it. Now he thinks she actually wants to move.
”
“Yikes,” Avery said. “No Charlotte, no Marty, no Tower.”
Katani was rolling a piece of paper between her fingers. “So, what are Avery and I supposed to do?” she asked slowly. “We’re just kids, Maeve. We can’t exactly change the mind of a grown-up.”
Everyone was quiet for a minute. Maeve cleared her throat. “I don’t see why not,” she said finally. “You know—grown-ups don’t have all the answers. I mean, Charlotte has been really happy here. What if her dad is making a big mistake? What if…he’s…” she hesitated. “…running away from something. I don’t know what, but I know it’s wrong for him to be moving again when they just got here. Charlotte really needs our help, Katani.”
“Yeah, Maeve, she probably does,” Katani said slowly. She was still rolling and unrolling the piece of paper. “But you can’t just mess stuff up and then expect other people to come in and fix it.”
“Katani, lighten up a little,” Avery admonished.
Maeve took a deep breath. “If you’re talking about my blankets, forget it,” she said quickly. “I’m over that. I don’t care anymore. I only care about Charlotte.”
“Fine,” Katani snapped. “Fine. I’ll help. I don’t know how, but I’ll help.”
Maeve breathed a sigh of relief. Her eyes met Isabel’s across the table, as if to say, Phew. We’re not dead yet.
“OK. Let’s meet at my house after school today. Just the four of us. Don’t tell Charlotte—I don’t want to make her feel any worse than she already does,” Maeve said.
“Like this is ever going to work,” Katani said to Avery, after Maeve and Isabel had gone.
Avery shrugged, taking out a red magic marker and writing “Maeve’s house—4 pm” next to her social studies assignment on her left arm. “Well, it’s worth a try,” she said. “Though of course, you’re talking to a girl who’s still wearing her Red Sox cap!”
Katani laughed. Everyone knew that being loyal to the Boston Red Sox meant hoping against all odds—and never being defeatist. Maybe Avery was right. Maybe the only thing to do was to dive in and try to convince Mr. Ramsey to stay—however unlikely the prospects seemed of convincing him…and however irritated she still felt when she thought about Maeve—and Isabel. After all, Charlotte was a best friend…and a Beacon Street Girl.