DEDICATION
In loving memory of Helen Feiler Greenwald—
my Bubbie, my cheerleader, and my friend
CONTENTS
Cover
Title Page
Dedication
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
Twenty-Nine
Thirty
Thirty-One
Thirty-Two
Thirty-Three
Thirty-Four
Thirty-Five
Thirty-Six
Thirty-Seven
Thirty-Eight
Thirty-Nine
Forty
Forty-One
Forty-Two
Forty-Three
Forty-Four
Forty-Five
Forty-Six
Forty-Seven
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Books by Lisa Greenwald
Back Ads
Copyright
About the Publisher
ONE
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU made a list?” Alice asks me. We’re at the water fountain in center camp, and I’m refilling my water bottle. My green West Brookside Middle School V-neck tee is getting drenched in the process.
“Kaylan and I made a list of eleven things we had to do before we turned twelve, to kind of like prepare for middle school, and now we’re making a new one of twelve things to do before we turn thirteen.” When my water bottle is full, I snap the cover back on and take a sip.
Crinkling her nose, Alice says, “But why? Just, like, for fun?”
I laugh a little. “Um, kind of, yeah, but it really helped calm us down before middle school. And now it’s a tradition, and we don’t break traditions.”
Alice throws her head upside down and pulls her skinny braids into a low bun. “Cool. I like it.” She links arms with me. “Seriously, how have I only known you for two weeks? I feel like we’ve been friends our whole lives.”
“I kinda do, too,” I say. “I should’ve come to camp earlier.”
“Lamey McLamerson,” she says. “But wait, I’m confused—how much water do you really have to drink?”
“Just enough to keep our glowing complexions.” I turn my head to show her both sides of my face.
“You’re hilarious. And your shirt is soaking wet, B.T. Dubs.”
I shrug. “Whatever. It’ll dry.”
“What’s the next thing you’re—”
“Girls!” we hear someone yell behind us. It’s Sari, one of our counselors. Her voice is pretty much unmistakable—high-pitched and squeaky. “You’re going to be late!”
“Sorry!” Alice yells out. “Come on.” She grabs my hand, and we run to the Beit Am. It means “house of the people” in Hebrew. “We are so getting in trouble.”
“It’ll be fine. Don’t worry,” I reassure her, almost out of breath.
We get there just in time and plop down on the wooden floor. Most of our unit turns around to look at us, and we shrink down, laughing behind our hands.
“Can I see the old list and the new list when we get back to the bunk?” Alice whispers once we’ve stopped laughing. “Do you have them at camp with you?”
I nod. “Of course. I take them everywhere.”
“So.” Jake, our unit head, talks with his hands on his hips from the stage in the front of the room. “What does it mean to be a leader?”
Alice and I look at each other, rolling our eyes and groaning as quietly as possible.
“Haven’t we already done this, like, a hundred times?” Alice asks under her breath.
“Alice Kalman!” Jake yells out. “You seem to have an answer. Come on dooowwwnnn . . . ,” he says like he’s a game show host, gesturing with his hands.
In a way this kind of feels like school when you get in trouble, but not exactly. Here it just feels funny and laid back, and people are laughing but they’re not really laughing at Alice. They’re more laughing with her. I make mental notes of all the things I have to write to Kaylan later. We’ve been trying to write every day. She’s way better at it than I am, but in all fairness she has more time.
Maybe we should’ve added write each other every day to this year’s list, but I guess that would’ve been too much. At least I’ve been keeping up with the doodle a day thing. It doesn’t take very long, and it’s fun.
“Um, hi,” Alice says from the front, her arms folded across her chest. “A leader is someone who gets things done.”
Jake nods, drumming his fingers on his chin. “Nice. Good job. Now call someone else up.”
Our eyes lock, and I’m almost positive she’s going to pick me.
“Okay.” She looks out and raises her eyebrows, and I nod to let her know it’s okay to call on me. “Arianna Nodberg, come on dooowwwnnn. . . .”
I hop up from the floor, dust off the butt of my shorts, and think about what to say as I walk up to the front. I’m not sure I’ve ever really thought about this before.
“So . . . ,” I start, looking out at all the kids in front of me. “A leader is someone who can organize other people and get them excited to be part of the project or work or whatever is, um, happening. And also, like, bring out everyone’s strengths.” The list pops into my head. “Ya know, help others shine. That kind of thing.”
“Excellent!” Jake says, high-fiving me. “Your turn to call on someone.”
I could pick someone from my bunk or one of the girls in the mindfulness elective, but this feels like an opportunity, a chance to do something different. And that’s the thing about camp—you can be whoever you want to be here. Even risky things don’t really feel all that risky.
“Um, I pick Golfy.” As soon as he stands up, I run back to my seat and Alice pulls me in for a squeezy hug.
“That was a fab answer,” she says.
I watch closely as Golfy walks up to the stage. (His real name is Jonah Malkin, but everyone calls him Golfy because of an answer he wrote on a camper questionnaire when he was seven. That golf was his favorite sport, or something like that.)
He stands with his hands in the pockets of his gym shorts. His brown hair is sticking up in a million different directions.
I feel like my heart could explode through the V-neck of my T-shirt.
“A leader is someone who thinks about the greater good. And makes things happen. And generally just crushes it every single day.” He shrugs and half smiles.
Golfy. It’s like there are tiny little red hearts all around him.
I am the embodiment of the heart-eye emoji right now.
He may be the most perfect boy in the history of the male species.
I’ve only known him for two weeks, but I think I love him.
Really and truly love him.
TWO
AT REST HOUR, WHILE WE’RE waiting for our counselors to hand out the mail, I read over the list Kaylan and I made. It feels kind of daunting at the moment since I’m so far from home and most of the things I can’t really do here. The water thing is under control. The handstand thing is with
in grasp. The doodle thing is going great.
But the tell-a-boy-how-we-really-feel thing feels impossible.
I love Golfy. I know I do. But I can’t exactly tell him that. Not yet, anyway. I’ve only known him for two weeks.
Twelve Super Incredible Things to Make Us Even More AWESOME Before We Turn Thirteen
(When Ari becomes a woman in the eyes of her people. Kaylan will be half woman, half girl. Maybe. Who knows.)
Keep our friendship strong.
Drink enough water (for a glowing complexion).
Make our mark.
Master the art of mac and cheese (from scratch!).
Perfect our handstand.
Help someone else shine.
Stay up long enough to watch the sun set and rise.
Find the perfect man for Kaylan’s mom.
Draw a doodle a day.
Tell a boy how we really feel.
Pursue a passion (first find one).
Break a bad habit.
“This is the new list.” I show Alice after she hops up onto my bed. “And here’s last year’s.”
Eleven Fabulous Things to Make Us Even More AMAZING Before We Turn Twelve
Make a guy friend.
Do a Whole Me Makeover.
Get on TV for something cool we’ve done (not because we got hit by a bus).
Help humanity.
Highlight our hair.
Do something we think we’ll hate.
Fulfill lifelong dream to kayak at night to the little island across the lake. (First step, find a kayak.)
Kiss a boy.
Get detention.
Have a mature discussion with our moms about their flaws.
Sabotage Ryan.
“The old one seems way harder,” Alice declares, still eyeing both of them side by side. “I mean, get on TV? You did that.”
“We both did.” I beam, looking at her while also staring at the front door of the bunk, hoping our counselors come back soon with the mail.
“Although the new one is, like, bigger, grander things, I think.” She laughs a little bit. “You guys are hard-core to do this, and also kind of weird, no offense.”
I laugh too. “None taken.”
“Both lists started in summer and had to be completed when?” Alice pulls her knees up to her chin.
“Yeah, we start them in the summer and have to finish by our birthdays. Oh! That’s another thing. We almost have the same birthday. Kaylan’s is November first, and mine is November second, so that’s the deadline,” I explain.
“Oh! That makes so much sense. Like New Year’s resolutions but for the school year!” she yells.
I ponder it for a second. “Yeah, you’re right. I never thought about it that way, but totally.”
Alice looks at the list again. “This one is all soul-searchy. It feels like you’re trying to figure yourselves out.”
I pause to think. “I guess we are. Kaylan is always like a mega-anxious girl, and she says I’m all chill, a go-with-the-flow girl.” I shrug. “But who knows? No one really has themselves figured out. No one knows who they are.”
“No?” Alice asks, picking at her chipping blue nail polish.
“I don’t think so. Better to just do what feels right and not think too hard about it.”
Alice laughs. “See! You are go-with-the-flow, then.” She looks down at the list again. “I’m confused on the doodle thing. Why is that one on there?”
“We both have a mini calendar, and we doodle in each box at the same time every day, 9:04 p.m., and that way we’re, like, together, and at least thinking about the other one for a few minutes.” I stretch out my legs. “Apart but still together, ya know?”
“OMG.” Alice cracks up. “That is so super cheesy, but also cute, and—”
We’re interrupted when Sari screams, “Mail!” as she walks into the bunk.
Alice and I hop off my bed and go to stand around her bed as she hands out the envelopes.
“Zoe. Alice. Miriam. Hana. Ava. Eloise. Sara. Rebekah. Miriam again. Zoe again. Tovah. Ari. Rachel. And Zoe again.”
“Ari, earth to Ari,” I hear Sari saying, trying to hand me my letter.
“Oh, sorry, I zoned out for a second.”
Zoe cracks up. “You kind of do that a lot.”
“I do?”
“Kinda, yeah. It’s okay.” She smiles. “I still love you.”
I look at the stack of envelopes in her hand. “Zo, you get so much mail.”
“They’re all from my dad. Don’t be jealous.”
“Mail is mail,” I tell her. I go back to my bed, tear open my envelope, and read:
Dear Ari/Arianna/Little Miss Cool Camp Girl/BFFAE:
How’s camp? I still can’t believe you’re gone and it’s already been two weeks. I might never get used to it. Literally every morning I go to text you and then I remember you don’t have your phone at camp. But at least I can write you letters and you will be home eventually. How does my handwriting look? I’m really trying to be neat and make it beautiful for you.
Sooooo, things here are fine. I’ve been helping Mrs. Etisof put all her paintings online so she can sell them. She’s already sold two so far! Also, she’s giving me some art lessons. I’m learning a lot and it’s really fun.
I’ve been hanging out with the lunch table girls a ton. I feel like we’re all really bonding. M.W. and Amirah talk so much now. They’re not even that shy. Marie really misses you, BTW. And she said she’s trying to learn Japanese, so she may not have lunch with us this year? Mega-intense, right?
Oh! And remember Lizzie Lab Partner? She’s been at the pool, like, every day, so she’s been hanging with us, too.
We all went to this comedy night at the performing arts center. I dragged them there, but we had the best time. Of course Cami hooked us up with a Harvey Deli feast for dinner before. Mega-delish as always.
I’ve been seeing Jason pretty much every day, but I’m not sure how I feel. I wonder if he’s more boy-friend than boyfriend. But don’t tell him that, duh. Also I think Ryan has a girlfriend. Remember that girl Maura from the pool who was captain of the swim team and always doing laps? She’s over here like all the time all of a sudden. But she’s nice.
So far (besides doodling) all I’ve done on the list is drink water. I’ve been researching mac and cheese recipes for inspiration. There’s one that has this super-fancy cheese, only available in France. Should we try to order it online?
Also the handstand. I’ve been working on that, too, but whatev. It also needs work.
Oh! One important thing: I’m moving the deadline to finish the list from your birthday to your bat mitzvah since that’s like a MAJOR thing about turning 13, for you, ya know? Bat mitzvah = 13. Also, it gives us one extra day! YAHOO! If you have a problem with it, let me know. And the more I think about the list, the more I’m realizing that it is kind of a portal from childhood to adulthood in a way. We are working on big stuff in this list. Like preparing you (and me too, LOL) for womanhood. Ew. That word sounds gross.
BTW—did you get the big P again? I haven’t. It’s totes normal to get it once and then not again for like a year, right? That’s what Cami says, anyway. It happened to both of her sisters.
Write back and tell me what’s going on at camp. Oh! I ran into Noah at the movies last weekend. He was there with his dad, and I was there with Jason, and I think he was kinda embarrassed. He said he was leaving for Australia the next day.
Anyway, this letter is really long. I kept remembering stuff I had to tell you!
I miss you more than those sparkly Mary Janes we had in fifth grade.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXO Kaylan
THREE
“SO WHAT’S THE DEAL WITH Golfy?”
I don’t know why I’ve waited so long to ask Alice and the girls about him. I noticed him on the first night of camp and thought he was awesome and cute right away.
It’s after
curfew, and we’re all in our pjs, sitting on the dusty bunk floor, eating snacks that some of the girls snuck in on the first day of camp.
“Golfy?” Hana squeals. “He’s been here forever. Like since he was seven.”
“For real?” I ask, reaching into the bag for another handful of chips.
“Yeah, his dad went here, and his uncles and his older sisters go here, too,” Zoe explains. “They’re like a sixth-generation Camp Silver family.”
“The camp is only fifty years old,” Alice adds. “So . . .”
“You know what I mean,” Zoe says. “We both came when we were seven. He’s basically my brother at this point. Anyway, why do you ask?”
“I don’t know. Just curious.” I smile, popping a few chips in my mouth.
Hana changes the subject. “Anyway, can we discuss something mega-important? Are you guys all inviting camp people to your bat mitzvahs? My mom said we have to keep the numbers down, because I already have like a hundred home friends on my list. But I don’t know what to do!”
“I definitely am,” Alice says.
Zoe adds, “Me too.”
I shake my head. “Um, no offense, but I just met you guys, so . . .”
They all crack up.
“But, yeah, whatevs, I’ll throw you an invite,” I tell them. “People in my town are insane about bar and bat mitzvahs.”
“Really?” Alice asks. “In what way?”
I take a cookie out of the sleeve of Oreos. “They just go crazy about the parties—with party planners and themes and photo booths and games and logos for the giveaways.” I shake my head. “One girl had Rihanna come! And this boy a year older than me gave out sneakers! Like a brand-new pair for each kid.”
“That is insane!” Alice shrieks. “I’ve literally never heard of that. There aren’t tons of Jews in my town, so people are usually like what’s a bat mitzvah? And I just say it’s like a sweet sixteen but at thirteen, for Jews.”
“Good description.” I pat her knee.
“Bar and bat mitzvahs are crazy in the city, too,” Zoe adds, standing up. “But my dad isn’t into it. He’s like the service is the important part. Blah, blah, blah. We’re just having a low-key party at the temple.”
I jump in. “My parents say that, too, and that they’re not throwing an over-the-top party. But then my mom starts talking to her friends, and all of a sudden it’s like she starts to fancy it up.”
“Wow,” Hana says. “In my town, it’s like a luncheon and maybe a DJ and that’s it. The giveaway is whatever the DJ hands out.”
Friendship List #2 Page 1