Love is a Four-Letter Word

by Vikki VanSickle

  “Do these even fit you anymore?” he asks.

  “Probably not.”

  Mattie spreads a knitted poncho with fraying tassels on the bed. There’s a gaping hole near the corner where it looks like something may have been nibbling on the yarn. “What about this? When have you ever worn this?”

  “I think it was a gift,” I say.

  Mattie rolls her eyes. “Oh, Clarissa. What are we going to do with you? You need to weed out your closet every season to make room for new pieces.”

  “Don’t bother,” Benji says. “I’ve been trying to tell her that for years.”

  “Hey! I weed!”

  Benji is sceptical. “Oh, yeah? Name one thing you’ve thrown out this year.”

  I wrack my brains. There has to be something. “I had these reindeer pyjamas —”

  “Pyjamas don’t count,” Mattie says.

  “Besides you’ve had them for five years,” Benji adds. “What else?”

  “Some socks, some underwear …”

  Mattie is scandalized. “Clarissa! Everyone throws out underwear! At least I hope they do …”

  Benji grins wickedly. “Clarissa probably has underwear in here from grade three.”

  “That’s disgusting!” Mattie giggles.

  I reach into my sock drawer and throw a pair of balled-up socks in their direction. “Catch!”

  Mattie squeals as the socks bounce off her shoulder and fall into Benji’s lap. Benji unfolds them and pulls a sock over his hand. His thumb fits through a hole in the bottom. He wiggles it at Mattie, which makes her laugh even harder.

  “See? She’s hopeless.”

  Mattie looks at me, eyes shining. There is something suspicious about that glint in her eyes. “Clarissa, will you please let me — no, us —” she says, grabbing Benji’s arm. “Will you please let us dress you for Min’s party?”

  “You can consider it your early birthday gift to me,” Benji says.

  “And me!” Mattie adds. “Please, please pretty please?”

  I don’t know. On one hand, it means I won’t have to worry about picking my own outfit. On the other hand, I don’t want to end up wearing one of Mattie’s plaid jumpers or ruffled blouses in front of the whole class. This could go horribly, horribly wrong.

  But it’s very hard to say no to your two best friends when they are sitting there smiling and begging. Besides, it might just be the easiest present I ever give them.

  “Fine,” I say. “But it doesn’t mean I’m going to like it.”

  “You don’t have to like it,” Benji says. “You just have to wear it.”

  After much deliberation, a snack, and two bathroom breaks, Mattie and Benji have finally decided on my outfit for Min’s birthday. Before unveiling the winning selection, Mattie and Benji describe their process.

  “First of all,” Benji says, “we wanted to pick something that you would be comfortable in.”

  “Something that shows the real you,” Mattie explains.

  “Right. But we also thought you should step out of your comfort zone a little and try something new.”

  “Sooo, without further ado, drum roll please …” Benji drums his hands against his legs as Mattie throws open my closet door and my party outfit is revealed.

  “Ta-da!”

  At first I can’t say anything. It is exactly what they promised it would be — me but with a twist.

  Benji looks at me hopefully. “Well? What do you think? I know you don’t like skirts, but that’s why we paired it with the tights, so it feels like you’re wearing pants.”

  Along with black tights and a plain jean skirt that must belong to Mattie, they’ve added my favourite t-shirt, the one with an image of Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz movie silkscreened on the front, along with a short-sleeved red blouse. There isn’t a hint of a ruffle or bow anywhere.

  “You’re supposed to wear the blouse unbuttoned,” Mattie explains, “so you can see the t-shirt. I know you love t-shirts. That one is so vintage, which is very in right now.”

  “So you see? It’s you, but the best version of you,” says Benji proudly.

  “If you’re feeling extra-adventurous, you could add a cool scarf,” Mattie suggests.

  “Or dangly earrings!” says Benji.

  “What about shoes?” I ask.

  “You could wear a pair of mine,” Mattie suggests. “I brought three pairs to choose from.”

  All of Mattie’s shoes are shiny, glittery, or pink. I can’t go to a party in shoes like that, I wouldn’t feel like me. I reach into my closet and pull out my two-tone sneakers. They may not be pretty, but they’re my favourites.

  “What about these?”

  “Perfect!” Mattie says. “Tights and sneakers go really well together.”

  “I love it,” I admit. “I really, really love it.” I feel guilty for second-guessing my friends. Scarf or no scarf, it is the best possible outfit and I never would have come up with it all by myself.

  Mattie and Benji jump up and down, cheering and clapping. “High-five!” Mattie cries. Benji slaps his palm against hers and the two of them hug, congratulating themselves.

  “We could go into business!” Mattie gushes.

  “We could have our own show!” Benji says.

  As they brainstorm names for their reality-based fashion 911 TV show I take one more glance in the mirror. For the first time, I’m really excited about the party.

  Pair

  Benji, Mattie, and I walk over to the Golden Dragon together. By the time we get there, half the class has already arrived. Min’s mom meets us at the front door and checks our names off a list.

  “Clarissa and Mattie, you’ll both be at table six. Benjamin, you’ll be at table two.”

  “Thanks, Mrs. Lu,” Mattie says brightly.

  “But —”

  Mattie grabs my arm and pulls me in before I can finish.

  “What are you doing?” I pull my arm back. “I was going to ask about the seating plan. Do you think she’s serious?”

  “Of course she’s serious,” Mattie whispers. “People take seating plans very seriously. You don’t want to be rude.”

  “But I always sit with Benji,” I insist.

  “You’ll be fine, right Benji? It’s not like you don’t know these people.”

  “I guess.” Benji looks unconvinced.

  “Maybe you can switch with someone, Benji,” I suggest.

  “Hi guys! Thanks for coming! Did you get your seating assignments?” Min asks. She is all dolled-up in an outfit that makes her look a little bit like a pop star and a little bit like a Barbie doll. I’m not sure which part I dislike more.

  “About that —” I start, but Min leans in and giggles.

  “You can thank me later,” she says, and then rushes off to say hello to someone else.

  “Is it just me, or was that weird?” I ask.

  “Definitely weird,” Benji agrees. “Well, I guess I should go over to my table now.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll come visit,” I promise.

  The restaurant is full. Someone has turned the stereo up and groups of girls are singing along and shuffling to the music, tossing their hair and throwing their arms up and giggling like mad. I recognize the song but I’m not really into dancing in front of people. I edge toward the buffet, which is an array of covered dishes that smell tantalizingly delicious. I am considering taking a peek under one of the lids when Min’s dad turns up right beside me.

  “Hungry?” Mr. Lu asks.

  I blush. “A little,” I say. Thank goodness the lights are dimmed.

  Mr. Lu smiles at me. “Dinner is soon enough. Go, dance!” He shoos me toward the makeshift dance floor. Reluctantly I make my way over to the edge of the circle of girls Mattie has joined.

  Somehow I get through the next ten minutes, nodding my head and smiling whenever someone says to me, “how much do you love this song?” Finally, Mr. Lu turns the music down and announces that dinner is served.

  I pile my plat
e with egg rolls, chow mein, and plenty of sweet-and-sour chicken. Behind me, Mattie hems and haws over the vegetarian options, spooning little mouthfuls onto her plate.

  “Is that all you’re going to eat?” I ask.

  “I don’t want to pig out in front of Josh,” Mattie whispers.

  “I thought you were a feminist,” I say.

  Mattie looks torn. “It’s a buffet, I can always get seconds,” she compromises.

  I plop another chicken ball onto the mound of food on my plate, like a delicious fried cherry on top of a sundae made of rice and stir-fried vegetables. “Suit yourself.”

  There are six people at each table. It becomes clear that the seating arrangements are definitely not random. Mattie and I are at a table with Michael, Josh, Chudy, and Amanda. In front of each place is a name card, carefully lettered in glittery pen. The arrangement is boy–girl, boy–girl. I’m seated between Michael and Chudy. We’ve been paired off in some sort of romantic matchmaking attempt.

  I should have known Min would pull a stunt like this. Mattie hasn’t been exactly secretive about her obsession with Josh, and Amanda Krespi has been in love with Chudy Adeyemi ever since he won the countywide public-speaking contest last year. I can understand why; even I have to admit, he has the nicest speaking voice of any kid I know. He presented on global farming practices, and I managed to stay awake for the whole thing. Clearly Min is trying to play matchmaker; so what does it mean that she put me next to Michael? Does she think I like Michael? Did Mattie say something to her?

  Or worse, did Michael say something about me?

  Thank goodness I took so much food. I have so much to eat that no one could possibly expect me to contribute to the conversation, which is awkward at best.

  “Well, this is certainly nice of Min’s parents, isn’t it? It’s very classy, just what I would want for my birthday party,” says Mattie. She has already finished her four mouthfuls of food and is desperately trying to engage someone, anyone, in conversation.

  Chudy nods and swallows. “Yes, it’s very nice,” he says politely.

  “When’s your birthday, Chudy?” Mattie asks.

  Immediately, Amanda says, “May twenty-first.” She flushes the minute the words fly out of her mouth. “I — I remember because last year we sang happy birthday to you early because we were off for Victoria Day on your real birthday.” Amanda smiles weakly and looks around the table for someone to rescue her. “Remember?”

  Chudy, always the gentleman, smiles politely at Amanda. “Yes, that’s true,” he says.

  Mattie laughs; a little too loudly, if you ask me. “I remember! Amanda you have such a great memory.”

  Amanda smiles gratefully at her. It’s a nice save, but a little too late. The crazy is already out there for everyone to see. Mattie turns to Josh and, in a remarkable display of coolness, manages to ask him about his birthday without blushing or squealing.

  “August,” he replies.

  “It must be hard having a summer birthday,” she says. “Everyone’s always away.”

  Josh shrugs. “I usually bring a friend up to my cottage and we go tubing or something.”

  “That sounds amazing! I love water sports!” Mattie gushes.

  I am fairly certain the only water sport Mattie Cohen has taken part in is swimming, and that was at an all-girls summer camp where it didn’t matter if your hair was tangled or turned green from too much chlorine. I can practically see the wheels in her head turning, imagining herself as the guest of honour at Josh’s cottage, decked out in her flowered bikini and those big pink sunglasses of hers.

  “Cool,” says Josh.

  “Do you have a canoe at your cottage?” Mattie asks.

  “Yup.”

  “I took canoeing at camp last year,” Amanda chimes in. She sneaks a glance at Chudy and asks him “Have you ever canoed, Chudy?”

  “No,” he says.

  “Personally, I think kayaking is way better,” Michael says.

  “Yeah, we’ve got a couple of kayaks, too,” Josh says.

  Cripes. Has there ever been a more boring conversation? I’m about to excuse myself and hit up the buffet for a second round when Michael looks at me and says, “What about you? Have you ever kayaked, Clarissa?”

  “No,” I admit. “I’m not really into water sports. Or any sports really.”

  Mattie laughs. “Oh, Clarissa! Don’t be so modest!”

  “It’s true,” I insist. “I might as well be allergic to sports.”

  “You’re pretty good at badminton,” Michael says.

  I don’t know who is more surprised, me or Mattie. I avoid looking in her direction, but out of the corner of my eye I can see her eyebrows are raised and she is most definitely sending me an I Told You So look.

  “It’s not like it’s one of the hard sports,” I mutter.

  “I like badminton,” Josh says.

  “Me, too! Oh my gosh! I just had the best idea. We should play mixed doubles in the badminton tournament!”

  Josh, Michael, and I stare at Mattie with blank expressions on our faces. “The what?” I ask.

  Mattie rolls her eyes. “You know, the senior badminton tournament? At lunch hour? It’s in two weeks?” When none of us shows even the slightest glimmer of recognition, Mattie huffs and exclaims, “Am I the only one who listens to morning announcements?”

  “No, I remember something about that,” Chudy says.

  Mattie smiles gratefully at him. “Well? What do you think?”

  Mattie looks from me to Josh to Michael expectantly. I feel bad, but competitive sports, even badminton, really aren’t my thing. Josh starts digging around his chicken fried rice. The silence is becoming unbearably long until Michael pipes up.

  “Sure,” he says. “I’m in. Clarissa?” Michael is looking right at me. If you’ve ever had someone look straight into your eyes you know how difficult it can be to look away, especially if that someone has particularly nice eyes, blue with a little bit of green, like those cat’s eye marbles.

  Suddenly my throat feels dry and I have to clear it a few times before I’m able to speak. “Okay, but only if Josh plays, too.”

  Josh shrugs. “Whatever.”

  “Great! So it’s settled! I’ll sign us up on Monday. Clarissa will play with Michael and I’ll play with Josh!” Mattie should be over the moon excited, but her voice sounds a little strained and she’s in such a hurry to leave the table that she almost knocks the chair over as she stands and rushes over to the buffet. I get up to follow her.

  At the buffet, I lean over and whisper, “Pretty smooth, huh?” Mattie turns her back to me and roots through the pile of chicken balls. I tap her shoulder. “Hello? I said that was pretty smooth.”

  Mattie whirls around, nostrils flaring and an angry flush creeping up her neck toward her cheeks. “You know, sometimes you can be really mean!”

  “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  “I heard you, but I don’t get it.”

  “Oh, yeah, right. What was all that ‘only if Josh plays’ business?”

  “Nothing! I just wanted to make sure he got the message.”

  “Oh, he got the message all right. Him and everyone else at the table.”

  “CRIPES, Mattie, what are you talking about? Why can’t you talk like a normal person?”

  Mattie’s jaw drops. “You’re the one who isn’t normal, Clarissa! You know how much I like Josh. I can’t believe you would do that to me, or to Michael.”

  “What does Michael have to do with anything?”

  But Mattie stomps away and pulls up a chair at Min’s table. Fine, if she wants to be that way then it’s her choice. I head back to table six and try to ignore the sound of Mattie sniffing.

  Oops

  After dinner, the music comes back on. People start mingling again. There is less dancing, thank goodness, probably because people are too full to do much in the way of moving. Mattie is sitting in a corner sniffing into a napkin and surrounded by girls.
Every once in a while she looks across the room at me with her weepy red eyes. Whenever I catch her glance she bursts into fresh bouts of wailing. Cripes.

  When no one’s looking, I grab Benji and pull him into the women’s washroom.

  “Boy are you in trouble,” Benji whispers.

  “Why? What did I do?” I cry.

  “She thinks you’re trying to steal Josh from her.”

  “What?”

  “Shh!” Benji looks around frantically before pulling me into a stall, locking the door behind us. “What if someone finds us? I’m not supposed to be in here.”

  I make a concerted effort to lower my voice. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. Why does she think that?”

  Benji shrugs. “Apparently you said you would only play badminton if Josh plays.”

  “So?”

  Benji looks disappointed, but not all that surprised. “It’s true? You actually said that?”

  “I guess, but I was doing it for her benefit.”

  Benji shakes his head. “Oh, Clarissa, don’t you see? You made it sound like the only reason you’re playing is because Josh is playing, so now Mattie thinks you like him.”

  I am aghast. “What? That’s not it at all! I just said that so Josh would have to play! I did it for her sake!”

  Benji pats my shoulder. “I know that, but Mattie doesn’t, and Michael probably doesn’t either.”

  “I don’t care what Michael thinks,” I say, maybe a little too quickly. Benji says nothing. “Anyway, what do I do now? How do I convince Mattie that she’s being a crazy drama queen and that she can have stupid Josh Simmons?”

  “First of all, I wouldn’t put it that way. Second of all, you should just tell her,” he says simply.

  “That’s what I tried to do before but she stomped off and cried her eyes out to anyone who would listen!”

  Benji smiles sympathetically. “You may have to try a few times.”

  A few times is an understatement. I decide to give her some room for the rest of the party. Even if I wanted to approach her, I’d have to make my way through an army of girls who are protecting her from the likes of me.