Right after she left, Mr. McKanna knocked on the classroom door. “May I speak to Karma, please?”
Derek tittered and gave the third ’Stache Attack of the day as I walked toward the classroom door.
“I’m glad I caught you,” Mr. McKanna said, handing me a folder. “I’ve put a few worksheets and Lacy’s last quiz in here so you can review the mistakes with her. Also, we have a test coming up in two weeks and I included a study sheet for that. Have fun.” He turned and walked back to his classroom.
Have fun tutoring Lacy?
I took a deep breath and whispered, “Satnam Waheguru.” Putting up with Lacy might just be the karma boost I needed to push me out of my current slump, but I still wasn’t looking forward to it and definitely didn’t expect to have fun.
• • •
At the bus bell, I tried to get lost in the mass of kids pouring out the door. It was a relief not to have to lie to Ginny about why I was taking the bus or where I was going.
When I climbed onto the bus, Sara and Lacy were already there, sitting next to each other behind Ruthie. Sara didn’t seem at all surprised to see me on her bus. She kept her eyes glued to the magazine Lacy had splayed over their laps. Lacy barely looked over at me as I got to the top step. She leaned closer to Sara and whispered something. I had no idea what she’d told Sara about what I was doing there, or how she’d explain me following her into her house later when we got off the bus.
“Karma!” Ruthie called when she saw me.
I waved, wanting so badly to slide into the seat next to her, but a girl her age already sat there.
“Are you coming over to play?” Ruthie asked.
Some older girls across the aisle snickered, their eyes targeting me.
“Not today, Ruthie.” I quickly shoved further down the aisle and out of the target zone. I slid into a seat too close to the back of the bus for my liking.
The boy next to me took up over half the seat and was asleep or doing a good job pretending to be. I readjusted my bag several times. I didn’t know if I should put it on my lap, between my knees, or on the floor on top of my shoes. Then there was the matter of either slumping forward or sitting with my back flat against the straight-backed bench. Nothing I did felt normal on the green, plastic seats. The few times I’d ridden home with Sara in the past, we’d sat near the front, and I’d never noticed the dead bugs dried in the windowsills or the weird black blobs of gunk that patterned the floor.
I clutched my bag to my chest. I kept my face buried in it, partly to avoid eye contact with anyone and partly so I could inhale my own germs. What felt like an hour later, the bus made familiar turns closer to Sara and Lacy’s neighborhood.
I took a deep breath and whispered, “Satnam Waheguru.”
• • •
By the time I got to the bottom of the bus steps, Sara already had Ruthie by the hand, rushing her across the street. I mean, the bus driver was waving them on, and the flashing lights couldn’t wait for us to make up and decide to be best friends again.
My body and brain tugged me in opposite directions. I wanted to run up to Sara and cross the street with her and Ruthie, to go inside their house, have a snack, and hang out in her basement like nothing was weird between us. But she had hurried Ruthie across the street without looking back at me.
Lacy’s front door opened as I jogged after her across the front yard. A mom-type lady with blondish-gray hair stood in the doorway. And, just as I’d imagined, she wore an apron and a smear of flour across her left cheek.
Lacy ducked under her mom’s arm. For about half a second her mom’s happy expression sagged like she’d expected a hug. Mrs. Jenkins quickly brightened when she looked at me, and she grabbed my right hand with both of hers.
“Oh, how nice to meet you, Karma! I’m just so glad you are able to help Lacy. Come in, come in.”
Mrs. Jenkins led me inside to a sparsely decorated room with several boxes stacked along a wall. A couch sat alone in the middle of the room, and the air smelled like fresh paint.
“I’ve spent two hours trying to get some goodies ready so you girls can snack and study.” Lacy’s mom lifted a plate toward us.
“Mom, what is that?” Lacy asked, scrunching her nose.
Mrs. Jenkins pushed out a laugh and waved her hand in the air. “I know. I know. Cooking is not really my thing, but Karma’s our first guest, and I wanted to do something special.”
The plate was stacked with fruit and marshmallows stuck on long sticks.
“Fruit kebabs! I got the idea from a magazine.” Mrs. Jenkins looked extremely pleased with her creations.
I reached for a stick to be polite.
Mrs. Jenkins gently set the plate down on the counter and watched with an expectant smile as I took a bite.
“Thanks,” I said, nodding and chewing. “It’s nice.”
“Oh, you’re too sweet.”
“We’ve got a lot of work to do,” Lacy said, throwing her backpack onto a chair at the dining table in the middle of the kitchen.
“Of course, of course.” A timer buzzed, and Mrs. Jenkins reached for a hand towel and ran to the oven. “Cookies. I almost forgot.”
She pulled out a cookie sheet full of flat, crispy discs.
Lacy slouched into a chair at the dining table with a sigh.
“Those look good, Mrs. Jenkins,” I said, even though it looked like she’d forgotten an ingredient or two.
“Thank you, Karma. But please don’t call me that dreadful name. I’m a Miss now anyways. I’d rather you call me Rose.”
“Umm. Okay.” I finished the fruit-and-marshmallow kebab and hoped Lacy would butt in and say something soon. Lacy’s mom was nice, but it made me uncomfortable how much she talked. Plus, Daddy never let me call an adult by their first name. I really hoped she wouldn’t force me to call her Rose.
“Well, I’ll just leave these here to cool.” Lacy’s mom put the tray on the counter. “Oh, and I called your father, Karma, to let him know I have a job interview. So he’ll be here at five to get you.” She turned to Lacy. “I’ll be back by dinner. If it’s any later, I’ll call you.” She moved to leave, but then turned around. “Just in case, there are frozen dinners and make sure you have a glass of milk—”
“Mom!”
“Okay. Okay.” She tried to give Lacy a kiss on the cheek before turning to me. “Oh, things have just been so crazy these past few weeks. You know, moving here and then trying to find a job.” She sighed and pushed her hair off her face. “I’m sure that’s why Lacy’s behind in math. I mean, I used to blame her father—”
“Mom.”
“I know. I’ll be late. You girls help yourselves to the snacks. I’m just so scattered, you know? But I told Lacy this move would be the best thing for us. A new start, right?”
I nodded and smiled as she continued to talk, even though I was having a hard time following her.
“I just thought holding Lacy back a year would be best—”
Lacy stood up and pushed her mom’s purse into her arms. “Bye.”
Mrs. Jenkins hugged the bag with one arm and threw the other up in surrender. “All right, I’m going.” She waved and stepped out the front door.
Lacy stared down at the flat, burned cookies and the marshmallows and fruit stuck on sticks. I had a pretty good idea how she felt, probably the same as one of the strawberries stabbed by a wooden stick.
We stood there in silence.
“She’s crazy, okay? Nothing she said is true. Let’s just do our work.”
I opened up my math book and dug around in my school bag for two pencils and some paper. I wanted to pretend that I hadn’t just heard Lacy’s mom say that Lacy had been held back, but my gut pinched together, nudging me to say something nice. And not just for karma’s sake.
“You know, things are pretty crazy at my house too,” I said, staring at the dining table. As I said it, Daddy’s scowl, Mom’s rushing and stress, and Kiran’s angry guitar strumming all flashed through
my mind, warming my ears.
“Just tell me how to do this algebra stuff, okay? I don’t want to talk about anything, and I don’t have anything to talk about.”
Looking at Lacy sitting at her dining table without her fan club in tow, she looked less like Lacy and more like a normal girl. I almost felt sorry for her.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Sweat sprinkled my upper lip the next morning as Lacy stared at me from Sara’s locker. I knew she was worried I’d tell what I’d found out about her the day before, but I wouldn’t. Not because the thought hadn’t crossed my mind, but because I didn’t want to disappoint Mr. McKanna.
“What’s up with Goldi-looks-a-lot?” Ginny asked, nudging me with her elbow.
“What do you mean?” I cleared my throat and slammed my locker too hard.
Ginny laughed. “She keeps staring at you like she’s afraid you’ll, I don’t know, disappear or something.”
“Ha! Yeah, right. She’d probably love it if I disappeared.” I tried to force out a laugh but sprayed my books with spit instead. I used my sleeve to wipe it off.
“Your hair looks nice today, Kar,” Lacy said, walking past my locker, trailed by Sara. “Have you been using that avocado hair mask we talked about?”
Her words were like brownies right out of the oven. They smelled good, full of yummy promise, but really they’d burn my mouth if I dared take a bite.
Sara’s mouth opened like she wanted to ask something, but she looked at me and closed her mouth, hurrying after Lacy into the classroom.
Ginny raised her eyebrow at me. “What’s she talking about? An avocado mask?”
I shook my head and rolled my eyes.
I didn’t want to know Lacy’s stupid secret that she’d been held back. I didn’t want to feel like everything I did and said was a big lie. Especially when it came to Ginny.
• • •
The only good thing about having Lacy stare at me all day was that I was pretty sure I had the upper hand. She didn’t want me to spill her secret, so I didn’t think she’d make fun of my lunch. Her words at the lockers were a subtle warning that gave my skin goose bumps, but as long as I didn’t tell her secret, I could eat my lunch in peace.
“Hey, how come you didn’t walk home yesterday?”
I fiddled with the clasp of my tiffin. “Oh, yeah. Yesterday. Mr. McKanna needed me to do something.”
“Really? What?”
“Oh, just something about math.”
“Duh, really? He is our math teacher.” Ginny laughed but looked sideways at me as she tossed David a carrot stick.
I took a bite of my chicken curry but still couldn’t help glancing toward Lacy as I did.
“Karma,” Ginny said, “David and I need to tell you something.”
Something in Ginny’s voice snagged my attention. She clenched her jaw just the way Sara did when she wanted to say something to me but didn’t really know how to say it. I held my breath and prepared to hear the worst.
This was it. I was officially going to be de-friended by Ginny and David. And just when I was beginning to get used to things. I poked the chicken with my fork and took a deep breath. Lots of oxygen. No palpitations.
“David, do you want to tell her?” Ginny asked.
David pulled a piece of lettuce out of his sandwich and shoved it into his mouth. He shook his head.
“Okay, then.” Ginny put her carrot stick down and turned to face me.
I told myself to hold it together and not cry. I would just offer to help Mr. McKanna grade papers or ask the secretary if she needed help filing detentions during lunch. It was no big deal being de-friended, again.
Ginny glanced around and lowered her voice. “David doesn’t carry his pee around in that waist pack.” She stopped and stared at me.
Huh? Wait, were we still friends? She wanted to tell me about David’s pee? At lunch? While I was supposed to be eating?
Where in the world did his pee go, then? I imagined tubes that went from the pee pack down into his socks, like the blue gel insoles Daddy used to wear when he lectured at the university. Instead of that gooey, blue filling, I pictured an amber yellow. I blinked and straightened my back. Gross.
Ginny raised her eyebrow and laughed. “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not that bad. Let me explain.” She cleared her throat and continued. “He did need the pack last year, but over the summer they did another surgery. Now he can use the toilet just fine, but his sister got a new cat. David’s afraid it’ll eat his gerbil, Scooter. So he puts Scooter in the waist pack.” Ginny paused to let me digest what she’d just said.
I started to laugh when I thought about all the times David got stuck in his desk, or how he put food into his waist pack or how often he put his hand protectively over it. He wasn’t protecting medical equipment but a gerbil!
Ginny laughed too and shoved me in a joking way. I shoved her back and threw a piece of chapati at David.
He smiled his big, crowded-teeth grin back at me and shoved the chapati into the waist pack. That made me laugh even harder.
“Just don’t tell anyone else about it, okay?” David said, suddenly getting serious.
“Don’t tell anyone about what?”
Lacy’s voice made me jump. My hand jerked back, and I had to grab for the tiffin, but it tipped, and the reddish-orange curry splattered down my leg. The warmth of the curry soaked through my jeans onto my skin.
Lacy stood behind David, glaring at me with razor-sharp eyes.
“Nothing. It’s a secret,” David said. His hand hovered near his waist pack.
Lacy’s eyes bored into mine.
I shook my head in slow motion, watching Lacy’s reaction carefully. I hoped she got the I-didn’t-tell-your-secret vibe I shot her way.
She gave me one last squint before turning around and heading back to the lunch line. It was apple crumble day, and most people had brought extra money for one.
“You’d better rinse that before it sets,” Ginny said. “I’ll clean up the table.”
“Thanks.” I rushed to the bathroom. The stall door swung closed behind me as I fiddled with the toilet roll, trying to find the loose flap. I pulled off a big wad as the bathroom door swung open, letting in a roar of cafeteria voices. Footsteps clattered to the sinks and stopped. I recognized Sara’s voice.
I reached carefully to click the stall door locked, so no one would find me bathed in curry. The toilet paper balled up on my jeans as I continued to rub at the mess. I really needed some water, but I couldn’t go out there now.
“So what’s the big secret?” It wasn’t Lacy’s voice. It was Kate.
“Yeah,” Emma echoed. “All the crumble’s going to be taken.”
The smell of fake fruit wafted toward the stall.
“Swear you won’t tell anyone?” Sara asked. Her voice didn’t sound like the Sara I knew, definitely not the same girl who threatened to break her ruler over a boy’s head in first grade when he asked me if I was adopted, after seeing my mom drop me off late to school. “Lacy was held back.”
A collective gasp followed. I put my hand over my mouth. How did Sara know that?
“How do you know?” Kate asked.
“Yeah, she told me she’s turning twelve on Friday,” Emma added.
“It is her birthday, but she’ll be thirteen. We did some Chinese zodiac thing in a magazine. You had to put your year of birth,” Sara explained.
“No wonder her bra is a B cup,” Emma said, all breathy.
“It does make sense,” Kate added.
The bathroom door opened and they scattered. I flushed the toilet even though I hadn’t done anything. I ducked out of the stall and splashed some water onto my jeans and dried them the best I could under the hand dryer.
Even if all summer Sara hadn’t been herself, I still found it difficult to imagine her standing at the sinks, putting on lip gloss and spreading rumors. And rumors about Lacy.
That wasn’t the Sara I knew. Maybe she wasn’t really th
e Sara I wanted to know at all anymore.
• • •
During science I had to partner with Tom for a gene chart project—which was embarrassing on so many levels. Considering I had the dominant brown hair and brown eyes, four out of five times, any kids between Tom and me would end up looking just like me. If I ever became a teacher, I’d stick to plant gene projects.
Derek leaned across the aisle where he and Lacy sat, and pretended to read our chart. “Brown, brown, brown, brown, mustache,” he said, putting his hand in a stupid ’Stache Attack.
I quickly pulled our chart away from him and stared at my name at the top of the paper, willing the letters to stay in focus and not get blurry.
“At least our kids will be smart,” Tom said, raising his hand in a high five that no one reached for.
“Whatever. Our kids will be blond and totally cute.” Lacy grabbed the paper from Derek and held it up like it was proof.
“They’ll be blond, all right,” Tom said with a laugh.
Lacy snapped her head back to Derek and then to Tom.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Lacy asked.
“Too dumb to figure it out? No wonder you were held back,” Derek said. His goofy grin dropped as Lacy’s face turned bright red.
Even though the conversation was happening right in front of my face, it felt like it was on television and I could only watch, and not say anything to help.
“You’re an idiot!” Lacy said at the same time the bell rang.
Derek and Tom laughed and bolted out the door.
Lacy turned to me. “What is it with you? Does your mustache make you spill people’s secrets?”
“I didn’t say anything!” My eyes burned and I bit down hard on my back teeth.
Lacy glared at me long and hard before she snatched up her gene chart and stomped away.
My nerves sizzled like butter dripping off chapati onto a hot pan. I guess I could have been happy that Lacy finally got her karma dished out to her. Instead it made my palms clammy and my stomach gurgle and knot up.
Lacy getting what she deserved didn’t make me suddenly glow with a shiny newness or make any of my mustache hairs fall out. I’d double-checked before school. Still seventeen.
Karma Khullar's Mustache Page 11