Warren & Dragon 100 Friends

by Ariel Bernstein

  “She was cute,” Dragon says.

  “She called me ‘Warri-Boo.’”

  “I wonder if she likes marshmallows.”

  “I don’t know but I bet she doesn’t like jousting,” I say.

  “What’s jousting?” a voice behind me says.

  I turn around and see Michael there.

  “A long sword game only really talented and professional kids and dragons can play,” I say.

  “I used to play in this house all the time,” Michael says, and bounces around the room. “My best friend Jake lived here before they moved. You’re probably going to have his room. Want me to show you his room? It faces the backyard. They had a trampoline but they took it when they moved. I really miss it. His dad always made pancakes on weekends. Does your dad make pancakes? Do you always carry that dragon with you? Want me to show you Jake’s room? I mean, your room?”

  I remember Michael giggled when Addie called me “Warri-Boo.”

  “I can find it,” I say.

  Michael looks disappointed. He opens his mouth like he’s about say another thousand things, but then just shrugs and leaves.

  Ellie comes marching in soon after with a big smile.

  “Three girls walked by after you left. They’re in second grade, too. I now have three new friends. And you only have one.”

  “She doesn’t count! I don’t have any new friends yet!” I say. Ellie is still beaming.

  Dragon shakes his head at me. He looks a lot like Mom when he does that.

  4

  Pie Contest

  Saturday and Sunday are supposed to be spent unpacking. I make sure I unpack all the important stuff like my comic book collection and Dragon’s wing covers for when he gets chilly at night. When my mom notices that I’ve been wearing the same clothes since Friday, she tells me to keep unpacking and find something new to wear.

  I try to unpack more, but there are too many important things to get done first. I have to figure out how loudly I can bang on the floor of my room until Ellie can hear it and it annoys her. Then Dragon has to see how fast he can go down the banister on my skateboard. He keeps trying until he breaks the record from our last house. And finally we have to spend time finding new hiding places for marshmallows.

  At dinnertime Sunday, Dad puts his hand on my shoulder and tells me that if I don’t unpack enough clothes to wear something new to the barbecue on Monday, I can’t go. I don’t think missing the barbecue is a big loss but Dragon insists we check it out.

  “This is a perfect opportunity to make new friends,” he says on Monday afternoon as I reach into a box and pull some clothes out. “Plus, there could be jousting, pie-eating contests, flaming ring tosses, flaming bubbles, and pie-eating contests.”

  “I don’t think it’s that kind of barbecue,” I tell him after I stuff the clothes into a dresser drawer.

  “Maybe not yet, but it could be,” he replies, and twiddles his claws together.

  “What are you planning?” I ask.

  “You mean what am I not planning?” he says, and raises his eyebrows a few times.

  “You’re going to get me in trouble, aren’t you? Maybe you should stay inside,” I suggest, but Dragon is already running past me down the stairs.

  Downstairs I find Dragon, my parents, and Ellie waiting in the kitchen. Mom is putting a cover on the pasta dish.

  “Ready to go over?” she asks.

  “Am I ever!” Dragon says, beaming.

  I try to grab Dragon, but he wiggles past my dad and out the back door to the backyard.

  There are already a lot of people in Michael’s backyard. His moms are grilling food on their deck. Jayden is talking with a bunch of older girls while bouncing Addie on his knees. Addie is playing with a bubble wand, and Michael is nearby pouring chips into a bowl at the food table. I don’t know any of the other people.

  My parents go to talk with other adults and Ellie runs to join a badminton game, but I don’t see where Dragon went to.

  “Hi, Warren!” Michael calls to me, and I walk over. “Want some chips? We have plain, ranch, cheddar, the super spicy kind . . . Hey, who ate half the bowl of spicy chips already?”

  I follow the trail of chip crumbs from the table over to where Addie is sitting on Jayden’s lap. Dragon is stuffing the last bit of spicy chips into his mouth while watching Addie blow bubbles. He gives a loud burp and blows a small blast of fire onto a huge bubble that comes from Addie’s bubble wand.

  “Bubble!” Addie wails, and starts to cry. Jayden looks at her in confusion.

  “Did that bubble catch on fire?” Michael asks. He rubs his eyes like he can’t believe what just happened.

  “Wasn’t it great?” Dragon says proudly. “Why have boring, non-flaming bubbles when you can have exciting, flaming bubbles?”

  “Maybe it was too close to the grill,” I say, and grab Dragon by the neck.

  I start to walk away with Dragon when I realize Michael is right beside us.

  “Where’d your dragon come from?” he asks. “I didn’t even see him there before. He looks like a fun toy. My mom said I used to carry a stuffed owl doll with me everywhere but I don’t remember and it’s Addie’s now anyway. She takes all my old toys. I wish I had a twin instead. Do you like being a twin or would you rather have an older brother or a younger sister? Or an older sister or a younger brother?”

  “He talks more than I do,” Dragon says, clearly impressed.

  “I guess it’s okay being a twin,” I say.

  Ellie suddenly runs up to us. “Hi, Michael,” she says nicely, and then turns to me. “I made four new friends.” She smiles triumphantly and walks away.

  “And sometimes it’s not okay being a twin,” I add.

  “Maybe it’d be better to not have any brothers or sisters and just live with a dragon doll,” Michael says, and laughs.

  I know he didn’t mean any harm by it but Dragon begins to huff and puff.

  “Did he just call me a doll? Seriously?” Dragon jumps out of my hands and marches away.

  “Sometimes I think it’d be better to not have siblings or dragons,” I reply.

  “They’re bringing out the pies!” Michael exclaims, and points to the food table. “We gotta hurry and get a piece of the chocolate cream pie. It’s the best one! My aunt Rose puts little marshmallows all over the top.”

  We start to walk over when Jayden stops us. “Mom says you have to help bring out some more plates and napkins and stuff,” he says to Michael.

  “Argh,” Michael says. “Fine, but I’ll be right back!” he tells me, and rushes off.

  I go check out the pie table, looking for the chocolate cream pie Michael mentioned. I notice a familiar set of pointy ears poking out from behind a blueberry pie before they quickly disappear.

  “Dragon!” I try to whisper under the table. “Dragon, stay away from the pies!”

  “Mm . . . pie . . . mm . . .” I hear. I look under the tablecloth and see that Dragon has eaten almost an entire chocolate cream pie. He gives me a very happy, sleepy smile before he tips over onto the ground and starts to snore.

  I grab the pie dish. I try to think of where to put it without anyone noticing, but when I turn around, Nia and Michael are standing in front of me holding napkins and paper plates.

  “Well, a growing boy has to eat what he has to eat,” Nia says, and laughs.

  “You finished it all?” Michael says. “In, like, one minute???”

  “Warren, did you eat that whole pie?” Mom asks, walking over with Dad right behind her.

  “Um, I gotta go do something. . . .” I say. I put the pie dish on the food table and reach under to grab Dragon. I try not to notice everyone staring at us as I walk back to our house.

  I put Dragon on my bed. Since I don’t have anything else to do, I work on unpacking the rest of my boxes.
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br />   When Dragon finally wakes up a couple of hours later, he rubs his eyes and yawns.

  “That was a good barbecue,” he says. “There was no jousting but I’m pretty sure I won the pie-eating contest. How many new friends did you make?”

  “None,” I tell him.

  “Don’t worry. You’ll make lots at school tomorrow. Just don’t do anything embarrassing like lose a pie-eating contest.”

  “I don’t think it’s that kind of school,” I say.

  “Maybe not yet, but it could be,” he says, and then immediately falls back asleep.

  5

  First Impressions

  At breakfast the next morning, I’m too anxious to eat much. Just one piece of toast with cream cheese and jelly, two bowls of Monster Marshmallow Madness cereal, and three cups of orange juice. Dragon is still sleeping in bed when I come in to grab my backpack.

  “I’m leaving for school,” I say as I shove in some pencils.

  “You know I have to get my beauty sleep,” Dragon says, and yawns. I toss him a couple of Monster Madness Marshmallows that I sneaked from breakfast. He roasts them a little with fire from his snout before eating them in one gulp.

  “Come on, Warren and Ellie!” I hear my dad call.

  I pull on my baseball cap, take my backpack, and run to the stairs to see that Ellie is already at the door with our dad. Our mom left after breakfast to start her new job. Dad works as a graphic designer from our home in his office room. That means he’s able to take us to school and pick us up, but after school Ellie and I are supposed to pretend to get along so he can get work done. We usually forget to pretend.

  “Wait for me!” Dragon shouts, and jumps into my backpack. I don’t have time to argue with Dragon about staying home. I push him down as best I can so Dad doesn’t see him. He doesn’t like it when I bring Dragon to school with me in case I might lose him.

  “Excited for school?” Dad asks. “I know it’s only a few blocks away, but I’m still walking with you. . . .”

  Ellie and I burst out the door as soon as Dad opens it.

  “Wait for me!” he yells, but we’re already past our driveway.

  Ellie stops suddenly and turns to me.

  “Look, I know I’m going to make more friends than you, but you’re my brother and I don’t always hate-hate you so I just want to say . . . don’t be weird, okay?”

  “What? I’m not weird,” I say.

  Ellie rolls her eyes and walks away.

  “I’m not weird, right?” I ask.

  “It’s scary how not weird you are,” Dragon calls out.

  “I know,” I say.

  * * *

  x x x

  Dad catches up with me and Ellie and we soon see two girls walking with their mom. Ellie walks over to them and begins talking with the girls while Dad and the mom introduce themselves.

  I look around and see a boy with a baseball cap. His arms are crossed and he’s walking a few paces away from his mom.

  Dragon has climbed to the top of my backpack and moved the zipper open a bit to peek his head out. “Try and be his friend!” he says, and points to the kid with the baseball cap.

  “Okay. Wait, how do I make a friend again?” I ask.

  “Impress him with something you have that he doesn’t have. He’ll want to be your friend real quick,” Dragon says.

  I slow my pace until I’m walking near the boy.

  “Hi,” I say.

  He scowls at me.

  “Mom, I don’t want to start school today!” he says. His mom ignores him.

  “What’s wrong with school today?” I ask.

  “My grandpa is visiting and I want to stay home with him,” the boy says.

  “When my grandpa visits I always get to stay home with him,” I say. I do not say I made that up.

  “My grandpa always gives me ice cream at breakfast, buys me ten new video games, and takes me to see whatever movie I want,” the boy says.

  “Well, my grandpa . . . reads to me,” I say. The boy scowls. I do not think he is impressed.

  Ellie runs over to me. “Two new friends,” she says, beaming.

  The boy and his mom walk ahead of us.

  “I made a new friend too,” I tell her. I do not say I do not even want to be friends with this boy.

  “Really? What’s your new friend’s name?” Ellie asks. She looks like she might not believe me.

  “Uh. . . .”

  “Grandpa,” Dragon says.

  “Grandpa,” I say.

  “What?”

  “It’s his nickname!”

  Ellie shakes her head.

  The school bell rings and Dad hurries us to the schoolyard where he finds the teacher signs for our classroom lines before saying good-bye. Ellie is with a Mr. Whittle and I have a Mrs. Tierney. Ellie is already talking with kids in her line.

  I look around and see the baseball cap boy in my classroom line. He sees me and scowls again, but I notice he is not talking with anyone. All the other kids must know each other from being in school together last year and are talking and playing.

  I hear my name being called.

  “Warren! Hey, Warren!”

  I look around and see Michael in one of the first grade lines. He is waving to me.

  I give a small wave back.

  “You’re friends with a first grader?” the boy in the baseball cap says, and snickers.

  “He’s just my neighbor,” I say. I do not say I would rather be in Michael’s line.

  Mrs. Tierney comes out and introduces herself to all of the students in our line. She reminds me of my teacher in my old town. Nice but very tired even though it’s still the morning.

  “Warren and Nicky, you both need to remove your caps,” Mrs. Tierney says before walking to the front of the line. Nicky removes his cap and scowls at me like it’s my fault he has to take it off. I scowl back and put my cap in my backpack. At least I know his name now.

  “I can tell she doesn’t joust,” Dragon whispers to me, and I agree with him.

  After the school bell rings, all of the kids in our class follow Mrs. Tierney into the school and to our classroom. When we arrive, Mrs. Tierney asks us to sit where our names are on pieces of paper at desks throughout the classroom. Luckily my seat isn’t next to Nicky but next to a girl with curly hair who gives a little smile when I sit.

  “Here’s your chance for another friend,” Dragon says. “Give her a compliment.”

  I try to push Dragon back down into the backpack but he just sticks his head out again.

  I turn to the girl. “Hi, I’m Warren. Uh, your hair is very curly,” I say.

  “Yeah, I know,” she says, and rolls her eyes. “I’m Alison Cohen. There are three Alisons in our grade, but I’m the only one with red hair. You’re lucky. You’re the only Warren in our grade.”

  I don’t say anything, because I never thought to feel lucky about my name before.

  “Did you bring your dragon for show-and-tell?” Alison asks. “They just do that in kindergarten.”

  “Oh, I didn’t know,” I say. I do not say I knew that from my last school. I push Dragon down again.

  “More compliments!” Dragon says, muffled. “More! More!”

  “Your eyes are as white as marshmallows. And you do not smell like rotten pumpkins,” I say.

  Alison gives me a weird look.

  “Everyone, Warren Nesbitt is the only student in our class new to the school,” Mrs. Tierney says from the front of the classroom. “Can we please give him a warm welcome?”

  “Welcome, Warren,” the class says.

  Alison scooches her chair away from me.

  “That went well,” Dragon says. “So when’s lunch?”

  6

  Eating Lunch, Sharing Lunch

  When Mrs. Tierney
says it’s time to line up for lunch I see Alison bring along her backpack.

  “You can take your bag to lunch?” I ask.

  “Sure,” Alison says. “I have my art journal in it if I want to use it after lunch at recess.” I see that some other kids are taking their backpacks as well.

  I hoist my backpack with Dragon in it over my shoulder.

  “I am starving,” I hear him moan from inside. I think I even hear Dragon’s stomach growling.

  “Do they serve marshmallows in the cafeteria?” I ask.

  Alison gives me that weird look again.

  “They serve, like, lunch food,” she says. “You can get cookies for dessert.”

  I hear Dragon snort in disappointment.

  “I guess it’ll be okay,” I say.

  Mrs. Tierney seems very happy we get to eat, as she smiles more than she has all morning when we arrive at the cafeteria.

  “Have a good lunch! I’ll see you after recess,” she calls out, and quickly leaves.

  Half the class brings their lunch bags to a long table and the other half lines up to buy food.

  I get in the food line and pile a milk carton, grilled cheese sandwich, bag of cookies, grapes, and a soft pretzel with mustard onto my plate.

  The only seat left at the table for my class is at the end across from Nicky. He’s looking unhappy again, but this time I don’t blame him. His lunch includes a squashed tuna sandwich, a banana that looks more brown than yellow, and some odd-looking cracker.

  I sit down and take a few pieces of the grilled cheese sandwich to give to Dragon.

  “This is a great time to make new friends,” Dragon says in between bites. “I know! You can share some of your delicious meal with the other kids. People like making friends with sharers.”

  I hold up the grilled cheese sandwich.

  “Not the sandwich!” Dragon says. “No one shares sandwiches. Especially gooey, cheesy sandwiches that dragons need to keep up their strength.”

  I hold up the milk. Dragon shakes his head.