Monkey Business

by Leslie Margolis

  Chapter Sixteen

  Disaster Zone

  Everyone seemed to take my tears as a cue to leave. Oliver hugged me good-bye, whispering, “Call me later” in my ear.

  “Happy Birthday,” my friends said from the door. Except it sounded more like a question and the answer was obviously no.

  Rachel had stormed out minutes before, and I kind of felt like I never wanted to see her again.

  I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, wishing I could take back the last ten minutes. This was completely mortifying—the worst end to what had been an amazing day.

  I ran upstairs and into my room, slamming the door behind me and plugging my “fancy” phone into my new speaker dock. I put on the Lobster Lips and cranked up the volume.

  And a minute later I heard a knock on my door. It was my mom.

  “Yeah?” I asked.

  “Want to talk about it?” she asked as she came into my room and eased herself down into my desk chair, moving slowly since her belly was so big.

  “Nope,” I said.

  “Are you sure?”

  I flopped down on my bed, faceup, and stared at the ceiling. “I need to be alone for a while.”

  “Well, I’m here if you need me,” she said, standing up again and heading for the door.

  Once she was gone, I tried reading an old Harry Potter novel, but I couldn’t concentrate. Then I decided to clean out my closet, but that got pretty boring.

  Over the next twenty minutes Claire, Emma, Oliver, and Yumi had all texted me to ask if I was okay, but I didn’t feel like talking to anyone. Nor did I feel like moping around, alone in my room all night.

  I turned off my phone and headed downstairs and asked if I could go on a bike ride.

  “Go ahead,” my mom said. She and Ted were cleaning up from the party. The half-eaten cake sat on the kitchen counter, surrounded by all the balloons I’d rejected. The sight of it made me want to cry all over again. I couldn’t believe I’d been so worried about balloons when my real problems were so much bigger.

  “Be back by six, though. Okay?” asked Ted.

  “Sure,” I said, heading out to the garage.

  I got my bike and rode all the way to the lake. There was a path that went around the water, but you weren’t supposed to ride bikes on it—it was a walking path only. Sometimes, though, you could get lucky and ride all you wanted and no one would say anything, and tonight was one of those nights, which was lucky for me because I really needed to let off some steam. It was a mile around, and I did three whole loops as fast as I could. The wind stung my eyes, causing them to tear up, or maybe I still had some crying to do left over from this afternoon. I couldn’t tell.

  On my fourth loop, I noticed someone following me.

  He was a blond boy on a skateboard and he was getting closer.

  “Hey, Annabelle!” he yelled.

  It was Jackson, Rachel’s big brother.

  I pedaled harder and tried to outrace him, but Jackson was really fast. He’d been skating since he could walk, practically. At least that was what Rachel had told me back when we were friends.

  “Hey, stop!” he yelled.

  I ignored him.

  “Yo, Annabelle. I’m talking to you!”

  And I’m trying to avoid you and everyone in your whole entire family, I thought as I rode even faster. Except the wheels of his board were getting louder—Jackson was getting closer—and pretty soon he grabbed on to the bottom of my seat, forcing me to pull him along.

  “Cut it out,” I said as my bike wobbled. I didn’t slow down, hoping he’d fall off. Except he didn’t and he wouldn’t let go. I tried weaving back and forth and made some sharp turns, but I just couldn’t lose him.

  “Just stop!” he yelled, and I braked hard, hoping he’d go flying, and he did—straight into me! As my bike tipped I lost my balance and fell down.

  “Ow!” I yelled. “What the heck?”

  “Sorry,” said Jackson.

  “What were you thinking?” I asked, standing up and checking out my knee, which was now bloody.

  “That looks like it hurts,” Jackson said.

  I glared at him. “It does. A lot.” He, I noticed, was completely unscathed. And pretty quiet, too, especially for someone who was so desperate to talk to me. “What’s your deal?” I asked.

  He took a deep breath and said, “We need to talk.”

  “Ever heard of a phone?” I asked.

  “I don’t have your number and Rachel wouldn’t give it to me,” he said, brushing his hands through his hair. “I stopped by your house and your mom said you went on a bike ride.”

  “How did you know I was here?” I asked.

  Jackson shrugged. “I didn’t. Lucky guess. I checked the park first and you weren’t there.”

  “What do you want, anyway?”

  “We’re moving,” he said.

  “What are you talking about?” I asked.

  He smirked and let out an angry sort of laugh. “Yeah, I figured Rachel didn’t tell you.”

  “You’re serious?” I asked. “Where are you going?”

  “To my grandparents’ house,” he said.

  Rachel and Jackson’s grandparents live in Morrison Woods, just a few blocks away from my old house and Rachel’s current house, but I didn’t understand what was going on. Also, I couldn’t believe that Rachel was acting so mad at me for moving when she was about to do the same thing. The hypocrisy made me even madder, something I didn’t even think was possible.

  “Why wouldn’t she tell me?” I asked.

  “Well, know how my dad lost his job last year?” he asked.

  I shook my head. I didn’t know any of this.

  “Well, he did. And my mom works part time, but she doesn’t make that much money, and my parents can’t afford our house anymore. So we’re going.” Jackson shrugged and gave me a hard stare.

  None of this made any sense and, to be honest, my mind was kind of blown. “What do you mean they can’t afford the house? It’s your house. You guys have lived there forever!”

  “I know, since I was born. But now we won’t. The bank owns it, really, is what my dad says. I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense, but my parents messed up and now we have to move.”

  “Well, where are your grandparents going?” I asked.

  “Nowhere, dummy,” said Jackson, squinting at me. “We’re all going to be living in their house together.”

  It was mean of him to call me dummy, but I didn’t say so. I was too busy processing all this new information. Could this news explain why Rachel had been acting weird? Because my family moved into a bigger house and her family was losing theirs?

  I could see how it would be hard, watching your best friend get lots of new stuff when you were losing the only house you’d ever lived in.

  But none of it was my fault or her fault or Jackson’s. It was just what being a kid was all about—having grown-ups make all these big decisions for you.

  “When did all of this happen?” I asked.

  “About two months ago,” said Jackson. “That’s why I’m so surprised you don’t know. Rachel’s not great at keeping secrets. And you’re her best friend.”

  I gulped, feeling a twinge of guilt, as I remembered the night of my first big sleepover. “Was it when you had that dinner at your grandparents? On a Saturday night? Like the day after I moved away? Is that when you found out?”

  Jackson nodded. “Yeah, I think so. We had a big family meeting. Rachel and I thought we were going to discuss where to go for Christmas next year. Then instead everybody sprung this crazy plan on us. We had no idea any of this was happening.”

  “Wow, that stinks,” I said.

  “Yeah,” said Jackson. “It’s pretty messed up. Anyway, I just wanted you to know. If my sister’s been weird lately—well, more weird than usual, I mean—there’s a reason. We’ve gotta move, and when we get to my grandparents’ house, we’ve got to share a room.”

  Before I could say another word, h
e skated off. As I watched his figure fade, tears came to my eyes.

  I got home later than I was supposed to, I guess, because my mom and Ted were pretty upset.

  “Why were you ignoring our calls?” my mom asked.

  “What calls?” I wondered, as I checked my back pocket. “I don’t have my phone with me.”

  “Is it lost?” asked Ted.

  “We’ve been so worried,” my mom added.

  “I’m fine. My phone is probably upstairs.”

  I found it on my desk, and when I turned it on, I saw I had a gazillion text messages.

  Claire wrote: Call me!

  Emma wrote: Are you okay???

  Yumi said: Thanks 4 the party. Super-fun until the end

  Oliver wrote: My mom made ginger cookies. Come over if u want one.

  u home?

  Want me to bring u a cookie?

  Then Claire again: Where are u?

  Annabelle?

  Earth to Annabelle. Come in Annabelle.

  Are u trapped in the bottom of a well?

  Did u forget to plug in your phone?

  What is going on?

  WHERE R U?

  The last text message on my phone was from Yumi, and it was more upsetting than anything. Here’s what she wrote:

  Claire and Emma and I talked about the Rachel-Annabelle situation. We won’t take sides. We don’t want u 2 to fight. We won’t finish sock puppets without you. So if you don’t make up, we can’t go to the Panda Parade.

  I turned off my phone and dropped it onto the floor by my bed. I couldn’t even begin to text back to anyone. What would I say? I couldn’t believe I was in this situation. We’d all worked so hard. We had to go to the Panda Parade. I didn’t want to let my friends down. But Rachel ruined my birthday party. Okay, she was going through a pretty bad time, but she could’ve told me. Instead she was mean to me, so why should I be the one to apologize? It wasn’t fair.

  Yet thinking about the whole big mess kept me up half the night.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Clemson Court Reunion

  First thing Sunday morning I got back on my bike and headed over to Rachel’s house. It was my first time being there since the big move. I felt like I was the Ghost of Christmas Past, riding down Clemson Court, going back in time to my old life, when Rachel and I were best friends. When I was the new kid in town and Rachel knew everything.

  Things sure were different now.

  She’d said so many mean things, I was still pretty mad. But I’d also been up most of the night thinking about it all, and I kind of understood where she was coming from. Losing your house had to be awful. And having your friend move into a fancy new house just made things worse. I got that. But we were supposed to be best friends, so why didn’t Rachel tell me what was going on? Was she embarrassed? And if so, why? What was there to be embarrassed about? Her parents’ situation had nothing to do with her. Parents make all sorts of crazy decisions, and people moved all the time. Plus, Rachel wasn’t even going very far. She’d still be in the neighborhood. I could still walk to her house. That was important. Not as good as what we used to have—I knew that. But it wouldn’t be so bad. Of course, I wouldn’t want to share a room with Jackson either. That was just one more lousy aspect. Although it was nice of Jackson to fill me in—even if he had to knock me over on my bike to do it.

  When I got to Rachel’s, I noticed someone on my lawn. My old lawn, I meant.

  It was Sienna, Rachel’s little friend. The one she took care of sometimes. The two of them were playing Four Square on the sidewalk. The court was drawn in blue chalk, the numbers etched in green.

  When Rachel saw me, she stopped midhop. She didn’t smile or say hello or anything, but she didn’t ignore me either.

  “Hi,” I said, approaching carefully.

  Before she said anything, Sienna tugged on her arm and said, “Rachel, it’s your turn.”

  “I know,” said Rachel. “I need to take a quick break, though. Okay?”

  “Then I won this round,” said Sienna, placing her hands on her hips and pouting a bit.

  “Okay, that’s fair,” Rachel told her. “Let’s go inside and get your mom, okay? I think you guys are heading out pretty soon.”

  “Wait, tell your friend about my swing,” said Sienna.

  Rachel turned to me and explained. “Sienna has a swing in her bedroom. Isn’t that cool?”

  “A real swing?” I asked.

  She nodded. “My daddy hung it from the ceiling.”

  “You’re lucky,” I said.

  “You can come over to my house too,” said Sienna. “But you may be too big for the swing.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “But we have some things to talk about. Maybe we can stop by another time. Okay?”

  “Promise?” asked Sienna.

  As I nodded, Sienna’s mom came outside and joined us. She was carrying something lumpy in a sling wrapped around her chest. When she got closer, I saw it was a baby.

  “Sienna, are you a big sister?” I asked.

  She nodded proudly. “I am. That’s baby June.”

  “That’s awesome. Give me five,” I said, holding up my hand.

  Sienna jumped and gave me some skin.

  “I’m going to be a big sister soon too. My mom is having a baby in two months.”

  Sienna looked at me suspiciously. “Aren’t you kind of old for that?” she asked.

  I laughed. “Old for being a big sister? Um, no one’s ever asked me that before. But no. I’m not.”

  “Okay,” Sienna said, but from the way she drew out the word, I could tell she didn’t believe me.

  “Sienna’s from Australia,” Rachel told me as we crossed the street. “That’s why she says ‘mum’ instead of ‘mom.’ ”

  Now that we were alone, I decided to cut right to the chase. “Jackson tracked me down last night and told me you guys were moving,” I said.

  Rachel huffed out a breath, annoyed. “My brother should mind his own business.”

  “It is his business,” I said. “It affects your whole family, right?”

  “Well, yeah. Obviously. But I can’t believe he told you,” said Rachel.

  “I can’t believe you didn’t.”

  “We weren’t supposed to tell anyone. My mom told us not to,” said Rachel. “She said we shouldn’t air our dirty laundry and that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t wear old clothes. Because that’s what I thought at first, and Jackson would never go for that. Haven’t you noticed how he’s worn the same blue nylon shorts practically every single day this month?”

  “I thought he had a bunch of pairs that looked the same,” I said.

  “Nope.” Rachel shook her head. “They’re the same ones. He wears them for a few days until my mom insists on washing them, and then he puts them right back on again. He doesn’t let her wash them too often because he doesn’t want them getting worn-out.”

  “That’s funny,” I said, smiling. I felt the same way about my favorite pair of jeans, and I was surprised to have this or anything in common with Jackson. I decided to keep this discovery to myself.

  “Anyway, it’s not definite. We may be able to keep the house, and I’ve been trying to help out. I take care of Sienna sometimes when her mom’s busy with the baby. She pays me, and I’ve been saving all the money. I made fifty dollars this month.”

  Suddenly something occurred to me. “Is that why you’re not contributing money to the Panda Parade fund?” I asked.

  Rachel nodded. “We were doing so well with the sock puppets, and I figured my parents needed the money more. That was my plan, anyway. I gave it to my mom because I thought it would help us stay in the house and I thought she’d be all happy, but it turned into a disaster.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked. “Wasn’t she glad you were trying to help out?”

  “Well, I brought it to dinner and handed it to them, and my parents looked at it, and my dad got this horrible expression on his face. Like he was mad and humiliated
and wanted to be anywhere else. I’ve seriously never seen him like that. It was awful. But my mom? She was even worse. My mom started crying. And then Jackson started yelling at me and he called me dumb because my parents need fifty thousand dollars, which I could never make taking care of Sienna. And seeing my mom cry and having Jackson be all mean and my dad acting so uncomfortable, it made me cry too, and so the entire night was ruined. Kind of like my life will be if we have to move.”

  By the time Rachel finished telling me all this, there were tears in her eyes and I felt like crying too.

  I gave her a hug and said, “I had no idea this was going on. I wish you’d told me.”

  “Probably I should’ve. It’s awkward. Promise me you won’t tell our other friends.”

  “I promise,” I said. “But we’ve got to make things right. Otherwise no Panda Parade.”

  “That would be awful,” Rachel agreed. “I’m sorry I ruined your birthday party. It’s not your fault you got to move into a fancy house.”

  “It’s not,” I said. “But I think it’s okay for me to like my new house. And with the jean jacket and the new phone too … I never meant to rub those things in. They just sort of happened, and I don’t think I need to be embarrassed about them.”

  “True, but it’s hard for me because you get so much new stuff all the time,” said Rachel.

  “But who cares?” I asked. “It’s all just stuff. What people have—it doesn’t make them who they are. You know that. My mom always says that how you treat people is the most important thing. And like with the Panda Parade. It’s fun to make money, but it’s also just fun to be all together making the sock puppets, and it’s fun to have created a successful business.”

  Rachel nodded. “Yeah. I know what you mean.”

  “Everyone is counting on us to make up and get back to work,” I said. “They all got together and texted me and said we had to or no sock puppets, which means no Panda Parade and that would be the worst.”

  “Yeah, they texted me the same thing,” said Rachel.

  “It would stink to drop out now, when we’re so close.”

  “You’re right. I’ve been unfair and I’m sorry.” Rachel kicked at the ground with the toe of her sneaker. “Can we forget about it? Please?”