“I wish I could use Dad’s pliers to fix things with Sadie,” I whispered into Banana’s fur. Banana gave me sad a look and I knew she was right: It wouldn’t work for Sadie and me to be squeezed back together. Sadie would have to want to fix us too.
Chapter Eighteen
Wishful Thinking
I got to school a little bit early, and Isabel was waiting for me on the playground. Sadie was nowhere in sight.
Isabel grabbed my hand. “C’mon!” she said. “I want to teach you a new game.”
The game was like hopscotch mixed with freeze tag—“stop-hop,” Isabel called it—and we played it until the first bell rang. We even let Justin and Timothy play too, though they weren’t as good at it as we were. Timothy kept jumping when he was supposed to freeze and freezing when he was supposed to jump. Justin kept falling over on purpose to make us all laugh.
When we got to class, Sadie was already in her seat with her nose in a book. She didn’t look up until Ms. Burland clapped twice to start the day. But even then, Sadie didn’t look over at me. She just stared straight ahead at the whiteboard, where Ms. Burland had already written the word of the day: far-fetched. That sounded like a word Banana would like. I pictured her scampering after a far-flung ball and fetching it to bring proudly back to me. I read the definition: unlikely or seemingly impossible.
Far-fetched. I touched the necklace at my throat and remembered how impossible it had seemed that I would ever get to wear it again.
While Ms. Burland explained how we were going to build models of the solar system out of Styrofoam balls and wire and paint, I snuck another glance at Sadie. This time, her eyes met mine. She turned away quickly, before I could even react. When I looked again, her face was hard to read, but I let myself pretend that she secretly missed me too.
Maybe if Isabel and I played stop-hop again at recess, Sadie would walk by and we could invite her to play with us. She would probably really like Isabel’s games. She’d probably also like Isabel. We wouldn’t have to make a big deal over apologizing and making up and stuff. We could just start playing together and soon everything would go back to normal. Except it would be better than normal, because we would have Isabel to hang out with too.
I got so excited thinking about how well that plan would work, that by the time recess started, it already felt like a sure thing. Isabel and I raced out to the playground and claimed the perfect patch of pavement for our game. We played the whole recess and I kept watching for Sadie to come near, but I didn’t see her. Not even once.
Maybe my mom was right. Maybe Sadie wanted a break from being friends with me. Maybe I needed to give her some time. But it already felt like we’d been un-friends forever.
Chapter Nineteen
The Sparkle Surprise
The bell rang for the end of recess and kids ran toward the building, wanting to be first in line for hot lunch. Isabel and I walked, since we’d both brought our lunches from home. We stopped in the classroom to get them.
Ms. Burland sat at the front of the room, with her sandwich in one hand and a book in the other. I smiled at her and headed toward my desk, then froze. I couldn’t believe what I saw.
Sitting on my desktop, lined up where I’d left them, were my regular yellow pencil and my lucky blue one. But beneath the blue one was something unexpected. Something impossible. It was a sparkly rainbow pencil, just like the one I’d stepped on three days ago, after eating Sadie’s note. But my favorite special pencil had been broken in two that awful day. This pencil was brand-new and perfect, and definitely hadn’t been on my desk when I’d left for recess. I stared, almost expecting it to vanish before my eyes.
“What’s wrong?” Isabel asked, noticing I wasn’t moving.
I shook off my surprise. “That pencil,” I said. “With the rainbows. Did you put it there?”
“Nope,” Isabel said. “Wasn’t me.”
I looked over at Ms. Burland. She shook her head and shrugged. “Must have been the pencil fairy,” she said. “Go on, grab your lunch.”
A hurricane of feelings stormed through my chest as I picked up my lunch bag and followed Isabel out of the classroom, leaving the new pencil behind. I was almost afraid to let myself think it, but I knew the pencil was from Sadie. It had to be.
Even though she still wasn’t speaking to me, maybe she didn’t want our friendship to be broken either. Maybe, just maybe, Sadie was sorry too.
Chapter Twenty
As You Wish
The cafeteria was already crowded by the time Isabel and I got there. The air smelled like wet dog and ketchup. I guessed it was tater tots day.
Isabel swung her lunchbox while we looked around for a good place to sit. I was eyeing two seats near some kids I sort of knew from Mr. Garrison’s class when I spotted Sadie across the room. She was sitting alone at a table by the windows, taking everything out of her lunchbox and arranging it all neatly in front of her. Sadie likes things organized, even her lunch. Once, we made a game of organizing all of Banana’s toys by size and shape and squeakiness, while Banana made a game of un-organizing them back into a mess. Remembering how much fun Sadie, Banana, and I always had, I knew I had to try talking to her one last time. She looked like she was still ignoring me, but the pencil had given me hope.
“C’mon,” I said to Isabel, and before I could lose my nerve, I led the way to Sadie’s table.
My heart thudded like a kick drum as we walked over, but I reminded myself I had nothing left to lose. “Can we sit here?” I asked.
Sadie looked surprised. She didn’t smile, but she didn’t make a mean face, either. “I guess so,” she said.
Isabel had already slid onto the bench across from her. “Is that peanut butter and banana?” she asked, looking at Sadie’s sandwich, which was the same kind her mom’s housekeeper always packed. “Lucky,” Isabel added. “I think I got turkey again.”
Sadie lit up. “Turkey! Let’s trade halves.”
I sat down next to Isabel while she and Sadie made the switch. I opened up my lunch and saw that Dad had packed two treats: a granola bar and a box of raisins. Sadie and I love raisins.
I pushed the box toward Sadie. “You want some?” I asked.
For a second, Sadie looked at the raisins like she thought they might be booby-trapped. Then she popped a few into her mouth. “Thanks,” she said. “You can have my applesauce if you want.” Her voice was all mischief.
I made a face. “Ew. No thanks.” I love apples, but I hate applesauce. Once, Sadie and I wrote a funny poem about the way it squishes and oozes like a slug in your mouth.
I bit into my cheese sandwich and almost choked when Sadie shouted, “Hey!” She was so loud, a few kids at other tables turned to gawk at us. Sadie was staring at my neck. “You fixed our necklace!” she said.
I took a deep breath. “My necklace,” I said. I looked straight at Sadie and didn’t blink. I wanted us to be friends, but she had to know I wasn’t going to let her push me around.
Sadie blushed. “Right,” she said.
A wave of gladness washed over me. “I might let you borrow it again sometime,” I offered, then added, “if you’re nice.”
She nodded. “Thanks,” she said.
And just like that, I knew we’d be okay. I couldn’t wait to tell Banana.
I turned to Isabel. “It’s my birthday necklace,” I explained. “It’s kinda magic. I got it after I blew out my candles and wished for a pony.”
“Which was my idea,” Sadie added.
“It was a good idea,” I said. Sadie beamed.
“That’s so cool,” Isabel said. “I never know what to wish for. But I’ve already decided what I want for my party.”
“What?” Sadie asked.
“Well, my sisters and I all love waterslides, so usually we take a family trip to Water World,” Isabel said.
“Wow.” I couldn’t help feeling a little jealous. I tried not to show it.
Isabel looked shyly at Sadie and me. “But I’m thinking maybe this yea
r I’ll ask to invite friends. I mean, if you’d want to—”
“YES!” I shouted, before Isabel could even finish the sentence. She and Sadie laughed, and I realized I’d jumped right out of my seat. I sat back down. “I mean,” I said, “that sounds amazing.”
I pictured the three of us zooming down a giant waterslide, splashing and shrieking and grinning our heads off. It would be twice as fun going there with two best friends. Everything would be twice as fun, and probably three times more interesting. I couldn’t have wished for a happier ending.
Acknowledgments
Heaps of thanks to editor Kristin Ostby, designer Laurent Linn, illustrator Meg Park, and the whole fantastic team at S&S.
Bouquets of gratitude to Robin Wasserman, Terra Elan McVoy, Andrew Garrison, Lauren Strasnick, and Lucy Simonoff.
Appreciation and adoration galore for my agent, Meredith Kaffel.
Hugs to Grammy Mrose, Auntie Sue, NiNo, the original Chuck, and my wonderful parents.
And a heart drawn with glitter glue for you, reader.
And now, a sneak peek at the next book in the series, ANNA, BANANA, AND THE MONKEY IN THE MIDDLE!
I popped up like a jackrabbit-in-the-box, feeling wide-awake and eager as a beaver. I had animals on the brain.
“Banana!” I said, leaning over the side of my bed. “We’re going to the zoo!”
Banana looked up at me with her big doggy eyes and thumped her tail against the pillow in her basket where she sleeps. I reached down to tug her soft ears. She understood, of course, that by “we” I didn’t mean her and me—dogs aren’t allowed on school field trips. I meant me and my best friends, Sadie and Isabel, plus the rest of our class and the other two third-grade classes. It was going to be a super fun day.
“I wish I could sneak you there in my backpack,” I said. “Then you could meet the prairie dogs!”
My teacher, Ms. Burland, had shown us pictures of prairie dogs and some of the other animals we’d be seeing at the zoo. We’d learned what the animals eat and how they play and other cool things about them. I liked hearing about the animals’ habitats, like where they sleep and what parts of the world they’re from. Ms. Burland says the animals that live in a place are part of what makes that region unique. (“Unique” had been our word of the day. It means special and different and one of a kind.) That made a lot of sense to me. Banana definitely makes my house unique, and my room is extra special because she sleeps there.
“But actually,” I told her as I slid out of bed, “prairie dogs are in the squirrel family, not the dog family. So if I took you to the zoo, you’d probably want to chase them.”
Banana wiggled in agreement. She loves chasing squirrels.
“They’re called prairie dogs because they bark like dogs,” I said. “And because they live in the prairie. Except for the ones that live at the zoo.”
Banana yawned and stretched her front legs. I guess she’d heard enough facts about prairie dogs.
I made my bed and pulled on my outfit of black leggings, a pink-and-white striped shirt, pink sneakers, and black-and-white polka-dot socks. While I got dressed, I sang a silly song that Isabel had made up. “We’re going to the zoo! A-doob-a-doob-a-doo! We’re going to the zoo! You and me and you!” Yesterday at recess, Isabel and I had linked arms and skipped around the playground, belting out the song at the top of our lungs. We’d stopped short when I’d noticed Sadie watching us with her arms crossed and her eyebrows worried. We hadn’t meant to leave Sadie out. It had just happened. Luckily, Isabel had grabbed on to Sadie and soon we were all three skipping and singing, and Sadie looked happy again. But it had been a close call.
Sadie and I have been friends forever, but we only just met Isabel this year. It’s twice as much fun having two best friends, and mostly, we all get along great. But in some ways Sadie and Isabel are still getting used to each other, I think. I was glad we would have the whole day at the zoo to have fun as a threesome. Banana and I were certain that by the end of the field trip, Sadie and Isabel would be calling each other “best friend” too.
Anica Mrose Rissi grew up on an island off the coast of Maine, where she read a lot of books and loved a lot of pets. She now tells and collects stories, makes up songs on her violin, and eats lots of cheese with her friends in Brooklyn, New York, where she lives with her dog, Arugula. Find out more at anicarissi.com.
Meg Park is an illustrator who lives in Scotland with her two cats, Louie and Boo. She loves drawing, painting, and telling stories through her artwork. To learn more about Meg and her art you can visit megpark.com.
Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2015 by Anica Mrose Rissi
Illustrations copyright © 2015 by Meg Park
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Book design by Laurent Linn
The text for this book is set in Minister Std.
The illustrations for this book are rendered digitally.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Rissi, Anica Mrose.
Anna, Banana, and the friendship split / Anica Mrose Rissi; illustrated by Meg Park.—1st edition.
pages cm
Summary: Anna and Sadie have always been best friends so when Sadie suddenly starts being mean, Anna is very sad and seeks support from her dog, Banana, and classmate Isabel, as well as advice from her brother, Chuck, and her parents.
ISBN 978-1-4814-1605-4 (hardcover)
ISBN 978-1-4814-1607-8 (eBook)
1. Best friends—Fiction. 2. Friendship—Fiction. 3. Behavior—Fiction. 4. Schools—Fiction. 5. Family life—Fiction. 6. Dogs—Fiction.] I. Park, Meg, illustrator. II. Title.
PZ7.R5265Ann 2015
[Fic]—dc23
2014006375
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