by Clare Hutton
The grandmothers glared at each other, and Emma exchanged anxious looks with Zoe and Natalia. The tension in the room made Emma uncomfortable. Can’t Mom calm them down? she wondered, but her mom was looking back and forth between them, as wary as Emma herself.
Aunt Alison plopped her grocery bags on the table. “Mom, maybe you should sit down. No one wants you to fall again.”
Grandma Stephenson sighed and sat down, leaning on her cane. “Fine,” she said flatly.
Later, in the twins’ room, Natalia said, “I don’t think it’s fair the way Abuelita picks on Grandma.”
Zoe shrugged, focusing on painting Emma’s nails in smooth, even strokes of glittery pink. “She’s not picking on her. She just worries that she’s going to get hurt again.”
Natalia leaned back against the wall and blew on her own wet nails. “She’s just making Grandma mad. Grandma’s like me: If you keep telling her not to do something, she’ll do it more. Plus, Grandma’s a grown-up and she should be able to decide what she can do.”
“Hmm. I don’t want Grandma to get hurt again.” Zoe finished Emma’s pinky and capped the bottle. “Don’t touch anything,” she told her.
“Emma agrees with me, don’t you, Emma?” Natalia said. “Abuelita’s just being overprotective.”
“I don’t know.” Emma rested her chin on her knees. Her chest felt hollow and achy. “I’m just tired of everybody fighting.”
Zoe frowned and put the bottle of nail polish down on the bedside table. “What do you mean everybody? Who else is fighting?”
Emma felt her lips trembling. “My parents.”
Zoe scooched closer and wrapped her arm around Emma’s shoulders.
Natalia sighed. “I told you, don’t worry about it. It doesn’t mean anything that they fought.”
“I don’t know if my dad’s coming after all,” Emma whispered. It hurt just to say the words.
Natalia patted her on the leg. “I really do think you’re overreacting.”
Zoe glared at her sister. “Oh, that’s helpful.”
Natalia shrugged and tossed her hair back over her shoulders. “What? She is. Emma, you should just try to forget about it. If you concentrate on something else, it’ll all blow over.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Emma said, hunching her shoulders. She wished the twins would stop fighting, too, but she didn’t want to say it.
Zoe leaned forward to see Emma’s face. “Do you want to talk about it some more?”
Emma shook her head. What good would it do? Natalia was probably right, anyway. If Emma just tried not to worry about it, it would go away. She was probably overreacting.
“I’m going to get ready for bed,” she said, reaching for her pajamas. She tried to smile. She would think about her room at Seaview House the whole time she was brushing her teeth, she decided. If she thought really hard about where she would hang the sketch of the bay Cousin Carolyn had made and about which bed would feel right in her new, high, slanted little room, she wouldn’t have space in her thoughts to worry about anything else.
Monday, Emma felt a little off all morning, itchy and restless. She doodled and stared out the window through social studies, science, and Spanish class, and ate her lunch quietly at one end of Natalia’s table, listening with only half an ear to the cafeteria conversations. She kept glancing over to Zoe’s table, too, wishing she could have both her cousins together the way they had been that weekend—exploring stuff in the attic, dancing with Grandma, painting each other’s nails, hanging out.
Now it was gym, and Emma was grateful. When she played sports—any sports—she could narrow her focus, forget all her worries and anxious thoughts, and just be. Every bit of her concentrated on hitting the ball, or plunging through the water, or racing around a track. Today, they were playing soccer, one of Emma’s favorite games. Soccer moved fast, there wasn’t a lot of time spent just standing around on the field.
Emma sprinted after Vivian, enjoying the stretch of her own muscles as she caught up. Vivian was weaving down the field, dribbling the ball in front of her.
“I’m open!” Caitlin shouted just as Emma caught up to Vivian. Vivian tried to pass Caitlin the ball, but Emma intercepted it and kicked it far down the field. She passed it to Natalia, who made the goal.
The whistle blew, and Emma leaned forward onto her knees, catching her breath.
“Good hustle out there.” Mrs. Brandon, the gym teacher, patted her on the back, and Emma smiled at her, pleased.
“Nice, Emma!” Natalia cheered, running over to give her a high five. “Good game, you guys,” she told Vivian and Caitlin. Vivian grinned back at her, but Caitlin just nodded, her lips tight. Sore loser, Emma thought. She wasn’t surprised. Caitlin acted like the kind of girl who expected to always get her way.
But after Natalia had run off to talk to another friend and the other kids around them had also wandered away, Caitlin suddenly leaned in toward Emma. “Show-off,” she hissed, her face scrunched up.
“What?” Emma flinched backward, startled by the venom in Caitlin’s voice.
“You think you’re so great,” Caitlin said. “You don’t belong here.” She whipped around and marched away.
Emma watched her go, feeling a little shaken. You don’t belong here was meant to hurt, and it did—but Emma knew she had as much right as anyone else to be here.
Caitlin had clearly waited until Natalia and Vivian were out of earshot before she said anything nasty to Emma. Biting her lip, Emma saw Caitlin walk up to Natalia farther down the field, smiling like nothing was wrong.
Emma hadn’t liked the way Natalia brushed it off when Emma and Zoe had told her that Caitlin didn’t like Emma. Now it was clearer than ever that Caitlin had a problem with her. But how could Emma make Natalia see Caitlin’s meanness without causing even more trouble?
“Everybody in!” Mrs. Brandon shouted, blowing her whistle again, and Emma followed the rest of the class back into the building. Emma noticed that Caitlin walked next to Natalia, focused on her, talking eagerly.
“Hey,” Zoe said in the locker room, nudging her as they pulled their clothes out of their lockers. “You okay? You seem spaced out.”
“I’m just thinking,” Emma said.
She could tell Natalia what Caitlin had said to her today. Natalia might not want to believe her friend was being mean to Emma when all Emma had to report were some mean looks, but maybe Natalia would listen if Emma told her what Caitlin had just said.
“Thinking so hard you’re going to be late for class,” Zoe commented, and Emma realized her cousin had changed back into her regular school clothes while Emma was still in her gym uniform. Emma hurriedly began to pull off her gym shirt.
“Go ahead,” she said. “I’ll catch up.”
If one of her friends was being mean to Natalia or Zoe, Emma thought, she would want to know. And if Natalia learned the truth, she would take Emma’s side, Emma felt certain—Natalia was fiercely loyal. Zoe would back her up, too.
But …
Caitlin was one of Natalia’s best friends. Emma didn’t want to be the reason they had a falling-out—even if it wasn’t really her fault. There had to be a better way. Climbing into her clothes, Emma made up her mind. She wasn’t going to go to her cousins. She lived here now, she belonged here, no matter what Caitlin said. But she didn’t want to force Natalia to choose between her and Caitlin, even if she knew Natalia would choose her cousin over her friend.
No, Emma decided. She wouldn’t say anything. Somehow, she would find a way to fix this herself.
But she knew it wasn’t going to be easy.
In English class, Mr. Thomas wrote on the board in big letters: BIRDY PROJECT.
“We’re pretending to be little birdies?” a boy named Noah asked, and made weird squawking noises, flapping his arms.
“Settle down,” Mr. Thomas said. “Instead of a paper, you’re going to do a project about Catherine, Called Birdy in groups of four.” He paused while a buzz of whispers broke
out: people leaning toward each other and picking partners.
“What kind of project?” Bridget asked, her hand in the air.
“Well, that’s up to you,” Mr. Thomas told them. “You could make a scrapbook about medieval life, or write a journal like Birdy’s in the book, showing her world in four different seasons. You could make a short illuminated manuscript, or act out a scene from the book. Mostly, I want to see something that you think is interesting or have enjoyed.”
“Are you assigning partners?” Noah asked.
“I’ll let you pick,” Mr. Thomas replied.
Emma looked around nervously. Zoe was whispering to Louise, as Aaron at the back of the room threw a ball of paper to get the attention of his friend Max.
“Settle down!” Mr. Thomas called again. “We’re going to do this in an orderly fashion.” He pointed at Madison, who sat in the front seat of the first row, a few seats down from Emma. “Madison, choose three partners.”
“Um,” Madison said, looking startled. “Kayla and, uh, Tamara. And Isabel.”
“Good.” He pointed at Noah, then at Hannah, and they each chose partners. Emma was next. Mr. Thomas pointed at her. “Emma, choose your partners.”
Emma looked toward Natalia and caught Caitlin’s eye. Caitlin was frowning, her lower lip pushing out sulkily.
Emma hesitated. She wanted to work with Natalia and Zoe both. Although would they want to work together? She didn’t quite understand what was going on with them at school. But maybe this was the opportunity she’d wanted to get them together. The three of them could be the tight little team she’d imagined.
But who else? Vivian was fun. Or one of Zoe’s friends.
But …
Suddenly, Emma had an idea about how she might fix the Caitlin problem without blowing up the friendship between Caitlin and Natalia.
“Emma, are you with us?” Mr. Thomas asked.
“Zoe, Natalia, and—Caitlin,” she said, feeling her cheeks heat up. It was possible that this was a terrible idea.
Natalia gave a muted cheer. Caitlin’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped.
Even if this ended up being a bad idea in the end, Emma couldn’t help thinking Caitlin’s baffled expression was pretty funny. But then Caitlin snapped her mouth shut, and her eyes narrowed with suspicion, still staring at Emma.
Emma dropped her own eyes to the top of her desk, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. She realized there was a pretty high possibility it was just going to be awful. Fixing anything would require Caitlin to cooperate at least a little bit.
Emma swallowed hard. What had Grandma Stephenson said? If this girl is Natalia’s good friend, there must be something good about her. Emma wasn’t going to go through school fighting with her cousin’s good friend—that sounded exhausting and would be terrible for Natalia, who would be caught in the middle. Emma was going to have to find the good thing about Caitlin.
Caitlin hurried down the hall toward the school library a little ahead of Emma, Zoe, and Natalia. Even Caitlin’s back looked annoyed, Emma thought.
Mr. Thomas had sent them to the library to work—quietly, he said. “No talking in the halls,” he reminded them sharply now, hushing a rising buzz of conversation.
I don’t need to worry about that, Emma thought glumly. One of my partners doesn’t want to talk to me. She was feeling more and more sure that this had been a mistake. Maybe I’m going to lose Zoe and Natalia if we can’t get along, she thought, twisting her hands nervously together. I’ve dragged them into a problem I don’t know how to fix.
Even Natalia was picking up on Caitlin’s anger now. She was unusually silent, glancing uneasily between them. Zoe was looking through the book as she walked, ignoring the tension between the others.
They settled at one of the small tables in the library. Caitlin huffed impatiently as she opened her notebook and got out a pen. Emma caught Zoe looking at her quizzically.
Emma’s mouth felt dry, and she had to swallow several times before she could talk. “So,” she said at last. “What do you think we should do?”
“Maybe a scrapbook?” Natalia said. “We could get pictures of medieval things, and …” She covered her eyes and dropped her head onto the table. “I haven’t actually read the book yet,” she muttered.
“Natalia!” Zoe glared at her exasperatedly.
Natalia sat up, half laughing. “Well, all the school clubs are starting up again, and you know I would rather do a thousand math problems than a reading assignment …”
“You always do stuff like this,” Zoe said, annoyed.
Emma tightened her fingers on her pen until they hurt. Maybe this had been a mistake. If she was just going to give the twins more reasons to fight at school, it might have been better to leave them apart.
“It’s fine,” she said quickly, before Natalia could snap back at Zoe. “It’s a good book, and we’ll come up with something really good to do.”
Caitlin sighed. “I’m sure you have some great idea, Emma,” she said flatly. “After all, you already know all about it.”
“I just read it before,” Emma said, feeling defensive. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Whatever,” Caitlin said under her breath.
Emma had been planning to be nice to Caitlin, but that kind of depended on Caitlin not being a total jerk. “Look,” she said quietly. “Do you have some kind of problem with me?”
“I’m sure she doesn’t have a problem with you,” Natalia said. Her brown eyes were huge and worried. “You guys just … rub each other the wrong way.”
Zoe snorted and started looking through her book again.
“I don’t have a problem with you,” Caitlin said. She turned a page over in her notebook, then twisted her pen between her fingers, capping and uncapping it. Finally, she burst out, “I just think you’re a show-off, that’s all.”
“No, she’s not!” Natalia objected, but Caitlin was staring at Emma, her face hard.
“The very first day, you started telling everyone how you already knew everything in this book,” Caitlin said. “And you’re always pushing ahead and showing off in gym class. And trying to get Natalia’s attention and everybody else’s, too.”
“That’s not true!” Emma insisted. She knew she wasn’t a show-off—if anything, she’d felt lost and at the edges of things since they moved here. It was true that Natalia had been paying attention to her, but Natalia was her cousin, and she was helping Emma find her place in school; Emma couldn’t be blamed for that, could she? And the other things Caitlin had mentioned—sports, and the coincidence of having read the book—were just who Emma was. Was she supposed to lie about books and hold herself back from winning games?
“Cate, you’re not being fair,” Natalia said unhappily. “You’ve totally got the wrong idea about Emma!”
“Emma’s good at sports,” Zoe said, looking up from her book to glare at Caitlin. “She’s not pushing ahead, she’s just playing better than you.”
Caitlin made a sour face, as if she had just bitten into a lemon.
The bell rang, putting an abrupt end to the conversation.
“Well, I guess we’ll figure out what we want to do tomorrow,” Natalia said, forcing a bright tone.
Caitlin’s just jealous. Emma was sure of it, but she bit back her words. If she wanted to get along with Caitlin—which she did, if only for Natalia’s sake—then she needed to make her less jealous—somehow.
“Caitlin’s just used to having most of Natalia’s attention,” Zoe told Emma as they walked home from the bus that day, Tomás running ahead of them. Natalia had stayed late for service club, so they had been able to discuss everything that had happened with Caitlin. “She and Natalia have been besties for a long time. She’ll get used to you and stop acting so weird.”
“It would be easier if you were Natalia’s best friend,” Emma said.
Tomás slammed the house door open in front of them and ran in, shouting, “Mommy!” but Zoe paused on the porch and looked th
oughtfully at Emma, her eyes warm.
“Listen,” she said. “Natalia and I are definitely friends, even at school. We hang out with different people because we like to do different things. And because she likes a whole crowd of people around her and I want just a couple of friends I’m really close to. But we’re always really best friends, no matter who we’re with.” She paused and half smiled, a dimple popping up in one cheek. “Better than best friends. Family.”
She squeezed Emma’s arm, and Emma got what Zoe was saying, warmth spreading through her. Emma was that, too—better than a friend. She was like Zoe’s and Natalia’s sister—and they were like sisters to her.
“Okay,” she said. “Okay, I get it.” She followed Zoe into the house.
“Girls!” Aunt Alison said. She, Emma’s mom, Grandma Stephenson, and Abuelita were waiting for them. Tomás and Mateo were wolfing down cookies and fruit. “We’re taking your grandmothers over to look at where we are with Seaview House. Drop your bags and let’s go!”
“Can’t we have a snack first?” Emma pleaded. She wanted Grandma and Abuelita to see the improvements that had been made since the last time they were there, but she was also practically starving. Lunch had been a long time ago.
“I’ve got you covered. Cookies and string cheese,” her mom said, handing her and Zoe each a paper bag. “The boys are already eating theirs!” She grinned at Tomás and Mateo. “You can eat yours in the car. And there just might be something to snack on at the inn, too.”
They took Aunt Alison’s minivan instead of walking because of Grandma Stephenson’s hip. As they pulled up the drive to the house, Grandma exclaimed with pleasure, “Oh, now that looks lovely!” The long porch that wrapped around the house had been freshly repainted, and hanging baskets of red geraniums hung at intervals from its ceiling. Blue-painted chairs—some rockers, some armchairs—sat in a row on the porch. Emma could imagine them filled with happy, chattering guests.