by Sally Warner
That kind of thinking took time.
But tonight, Alfie had their father’s full attention. “Why do you have the yips?” he asked, instantly concerned. “What’s up, Alfie? Trouble at school?”
Alfie and EllRay’s parents took their children’s education very seriously. They were always on the alert for problems at school.
In fact, Alfie sometimes pictured her father as being a skinny stick-bug with super-long antennae always waving in the air, trying to sense danger.
“Not trouble at school,” Alfie said, fibbing a little as she crossed her fingers under the table.
Mrs. Jakes was busy serving up helpings of tuna casserole—with melted cheese and buttery breadcrumbs on top, making it edible to Alfie. But she paused, giving her daughter a searching look.
She wasn’t exactly lying to her mom and dad, Alfie told herself—because the problem was happening outside, on the playground. Not in class. So—
“Alfie?” her father was saying. “Cricket?”
“It’s nothing,” Alfie mumbled. “Everything’s okay. I don’t wanna talk about it.” She started nibbling at the cheese and breadcrumbs on top of her helping of tuna casserole.
“Those are three entirely different answers,” her father pointed out, both eyebrows rising to the middle of his forehead this time.
“Eat the whole serving, sweetie, not just the topping,” Alfie’s mom told her. “And eat some of those peas, too. You and I will have a private conversation after dinner about those pesky yips. You don’t mind if I handle this, do you, Warren?” she asked her husband.
“Not in the least,” Alfie’s dad said. He sounded relieved.
“Do we have to?” Alfie asked her mom, not looking up from her plate.
“We have to,” her mom said, in a way that let Alfie know there was no getting out of it. But Mrs. Jakes sounded calm, too—as though nothing Alfie said could ever upset her.
And for some reason, that made Alfie feel a whole lot better about everything.
12
In a State
“Okay, young lady. Speak to me,” Alfie’s mom said that night after Alfie had showered and tucked herself into bed. “Everything seemed fine on Monday morning. But now it’s Wednesday night, and you’re in a state.”
“Yeah. California,” Alfie said, trying to laugh.
She wriggled further under her covers and pulled them up to her chin. Princess cuddled next to her and started pushing her small paws back and forth against the blanket, as if she were softening it up.
“No. I mean that you’re in a bad state of mind, sweetie,” her mom explained. “I’m talking about your mood. What happened? Are you having trouble with your schoolwork? Problems with your word list?”
“Nuh-uh,” Alfie said, shaking her head. Her bedside light was on, and her mom’s face looked golden in the light.
Princess continued to purr.
She might as well tell the truth, Alfie thought with a sigh. Her mom wasn’t going anywhere, not until she knew what was going on in Mr. Havens’s class—or outside, on the playground. And it looked like she wasn’t going to freak about anything. “It’s Lulu,” Alfie said after a couple of silent moments. “Lulu Marino,” she added, as if there were several Lulus in her class, and her mom might be confused.
“Lulu Marino,” her mother repeated. “Your best friend last year. The ‘special darling’ with the long straight bangs and all the clothes.”
“Outfits,” Alfie corrected her. “That’s the one. She says her mom makes her lay out everything she’s going to wear the next day on her bed each night, to see how it looks. Like she’s a big flat paper doll or something.”
“I know a gray kitty who would make short work of that little scheme,” her mom said, laughing.
“Anyway,” Alfie said, “all us girls were friends with each other at the same time—for about one second, I guess. And I wanted things to stay that way. But then on Monday, Lulu said she was gonna have a sleepover this Saturday night. ‘Just like the big girls have,’ she kept telling us. The best sleepover ever, in fact—but she can only ask a few girls, her mom said. That’s when the whispering and the hurt feelings started,” she added, her voice fading.
“That’s a rule-breaker though, right?” Alfie’s mom said. “Talking at school about parties some kids won’t be invited to?”
Alfie nodded. “But nobody can tell Mr. Havens about it,” she explained to her mom. “Because if we did, Lulu would cut us off her guest list for sure. Besides,” she added, frowning, “Mr. Havens doesn’t really get girl-stuff, I don’t think. You know,” she reminded her mom. “Because he’s a boy teacher.”
“Got it,” Mrs. Jakes said. “That is, I don’t think you’re right, but I hear what you’re saying.”
“But it’s even more complicated than that. Not that I want you to fix anything,” Alfie hurried to say before her mom came up with one of her way-too-easy solutions. “Because Lulu says she won’t decide who she’s inviting until Friday afternoon, even though I know I’m not going.”
“And just how do you know that?” her mom asked.
“Because I told Lulu in private that she should invite all the girls in our class to her party,” Alfie confessed. “I’m not saying where I got that bright idea,” she added, before her mom could ask. “But Lulu told me to mind my own business. And that I wasn’t gonna be invited anymore—for sure.”
“Hmm,” Alfie’s mother said.
“So now Lulu’s got everybody all worked up,” Alfie said. “And there are only two more days left for her to decide who she’s gonna ask. On top of that,” she added before she could stop herself, “Mr. Havens knows something is wrong! He made me stay behind at lunch and talk to him.”
“You?” her mom asked, surprised. “Why not Lulu?”
“Because he doesn’t know what’s going on,” Alfie explained. “Not exactly. He knows something’s wrong, though,” she added. “And he says he thinks I’m kind of like a leader of the girls,” she added with an it’s-not-funny laugh. “But I’m no leader.”
She left out the part about her being a bridge. That was just too weird to explain.
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” her mom said, thinking about it.
“I sure would,” Alfie said, breaking the news. “Anyway, Mr. Havens wanted me to tell him what was happening with the girls,” she added, making a face.
“And did you?” her mom asked.
“No. And there wasn’t any time to tell the other girls about what he wanted, either,” Alfie said, scootching away from her mom a little as she stretched the truth. She didn’t like to fib.
Okay, lie.
Maybe there had been time to tell the girls, Alfie admitted to herself. But what was she supposed to say to them? And why stick her neck out now, when she did not have a chance in the world of going to the party?
“Okay, I’ve heard enough,” Alfie’s mom said, standing up. “But it’s no wonder you’ve had the yips, sweetie. I think I’d like to go downstairs and talk to your dad about this one.”
Her dad? But he made everything super-complicated, he was so serious.
“I can’t explain it all again, Mom,” Alfie argued, faking a gigantic yawn. “I’m already half asleep, and so is Princess. And you told Dad you were gonna handle it.”
“Yes. But this sounds serious, and I’d like your father’s input,” her mom said. “You can join us for a conference in the morning, Alfleta. I’ll get you up a little earlier.”
Alfie groaned. “Okay,” she said. “But I don’t get how we’re gonna conference our way out of this one,” she added, struggling to keep her voice calm. “Anyway, I was just trying to explain my mood to you, Mom. Not start a battle or anything.”
“The three of us will talk about it in the morning,” Mrs. Jakes said again. “Now, get some sleep, sweetie.”
“
Easy for you to say,” Alfie mumbled into her covers as her mother slipped out the door.
13
Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff
It was strange, Alfie thought early the next morning, Thursday, standing next to her mom in the family room doorway. The room looked almost unfamiliar, as if it woke up a little bit new each day, wondering what might happen next.
She was usually brushing her teeth at this time on a school morning, Alfie thought. Maybe that was it.
“All the way in, Cricket,” her dad said, laughing from where he was sitting on the sofa. Alfie’s mom showed her where to sit—as if Alfie were a guest in her own home.
“I was telling your dad last night about your difficult week,” her mother began.
“Mostly yesterday,” Alfie said, trying to get it right. “Yesterday was the worst. And all I wanted was for all the girls in my class to stay friends at the same time.”
But then there was seeing Bella cry in the girls’ room. Not that Alfie’s parents knew about that.
And observing the miffed, hurt, irked, and furious girls in her class.
And having that disastrous talk with Lulu about inviting everyone to her sleepover.
And being late to Social Studies for the first time ever.
And having to stay in class during the first part of lunch, with Mr. Havens trying to get her to tell him what was going on—because she was such a great leader, ha ha.
And then there was her mom coming upstairs to talk about her mood.
“It was difficult mostly yesterday,” Alfie’s father said, repeating her words. “But you know, Alfie, your mother and I attended a parents’ meeting a few weeks ago, toward the end of summer. And Principal James was talking about just this sort of thing. He gave us parents some pretty good advice.”
Alfie blinked. Her dad was talking about something Principal James had said four weeks ago? She could barely remember what she’d had for dinner last night! And what was “just this sort of thing” supposed to mean?
“But how did Principal James know this was gonna happen?” Alfie asked, frowning. “Is he magic or something?”
“Of course not, sweetie,” her mother assured her. “And Principal James didn’t know, not exactly. He just warned us that something like this was bound to happen this year. A feud among the girls,” she added, explaining.
“Boys fight,” Alfie told her parents. She did not like the girls being singled out this way. Four weeks in advance, too—before they’d even done anything wrong!
“What Principal James was telling us was that in most cases, we parents should remain calm and not get involved in any minor squabbles, if possible,” her mother said. “It can just make everything worse, he said—unless someone’s safety is involved,” she added, trying to remember the details of his talk. “Then, parents have to step in, of course. The principal called it a ‘No Interference Policy,’” she added, explaining.
“‘Don’t sweat the small stuff,’” Alfie’s father said, quoting from the meeting, Alfie guessed.
“And so last night, your father and I had just about decided to try to stay out of the whole thing—even though this doesn’t really seem all that small to us. Not with you stuck in the middle,” Mrs. Jakes said, patting Alfie on the knee to show her concern. “But then my cell phone started to buzz.”
“And now the matter is out of our hands,” Alfie’s dad said.
Alfie’s heart began to thud. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked. Her dad was so strong! Especially his hands.
“It means that some other girls talked to their parents, too,” her mother said. “And the All-Stars’ phone tree got a real workout last night.”
“But what parents?” Alfie asked. “Whose parents?”
“Arletty’s and Phoebe’s, for starters,” her father reported.
“Not that it really matters whose parents,” Alfie’s mom chimed in. “There were a couple of other calls as well, once the ball got rolling. And I assume Lulu’s mother got a call or two before the night was over. After all, she’s really the one who planned this party in the first place.”
“She didn’t tell Lulu to blab it all over school,” Alfie pointed out. “But what about Lulu’s sleep-over? Is it still gonna happen?”
“I have no idea,” her mom said. “I finally turned off my phone and went to bed.”
“But turning off your phone didn’t make the problem go away, Mom,” Alfie said, her voice shaking. “Lulu’s going to blame me for everything!”
“Why you?” her dad asked.
“Because I’m the only one who tried standing up to her,” Alfie said. “Only now, I don’t really even care about the sleepover. I decided last night to just wait for this week to be over, and then hope things would get better for all us girls. That was my big plan—until this happened.”
“Very wise, too,” Mr. Jakes announced, listening to just part of what she said.
“No, wait!” Alfie said to her parents. “What am I supposed to tell Lulu?”
“You don’t have to tell her anything,” her mother said. “You didn’t make this happen, Alfie. The other girls’ parents did. And most of all, Lulu did. But I do want you to keep us in the loop about what happens next, okay?”
“I’ll try,” Alfie said. “I mean, if I can remember it all.”
Because there was gonna be a ton of stuff, she told herself gloomily.
14
The Worst Best Sleepover Ever
It was a perfect morning—except for having to go to school, Alfie thought as she waited for Mrs. Sobel to pick her up for carpool half an hour later. Puffy white clouds floated across the sky. Leaves blew down the street as if they were chasing each other.
“Have fun while you can, you guys,” Alfie called after them.
Too bad today was gonna be such a disaster, she thought.
Arletty and Phoebe—currently her two best friends at Oak Glen Primary School—were so upset about Lulu’s sleepover that they told their parents about it. But they weren’t the only ones.
“Hey,” Hanni said, greeting Alfie with a funny face as she climbed into Mrs. Sobel’s car.
“Hey to you, too,” Alfie said, making a face back at her.
Apart from the funny face, Hanni looked perfectly normal. So she hadn’t heard about the phone calls yet, Alfie thought.
“Thank goodness,” she whispered at school as she got out of the Sobels’ car.
* * *
“There she is,” Lulu Marino called out in a cold, hard voice as Alfie and Hanni neared the picnic table where the second grade girls liked to gather before school.
Alfie could feel her heart going down, down, down to her very basement, if a person could even have a basement.
“She, who?” Hanni was asking Lulu in a voice that was just as loud. “There are two of us here, you know. Can’t you count?”
Wow, Alfie thought, surprised at Hanni’s sparky reply. Hanni had guts! She must have totally given up yesterday on being invited to the sleepover. No more kissing-up to Lulu Marino, it seemed.
“I can count better than you, Hanni Sobel,” Lulu boasted. “But I was talking to Alfie. And the point is,” she said, flicking her long bangs as she gave both Hanni and Alfie the stink-eye, “my whole sleepover is ruined because of you, Alfie Jakes.”
“Why because of me?” Alfie asked.
“Because Mama started getting these phone calls last night,” Lulu said. “Because you blabbed when you didn’t get your way about who I should ask to my sleepover. So now, Mama says the whole thing is canceled. Period.”
“But not because of me,” Alfie insisted, not looking at either Arletty or Phoebe, whose parents had made the first calls. “My parents didn’t call your mom.”
“Yes, because of you,” Lulu insisted. “You turned my party into the worst best sleepover ever!” she went
on. “And now it has disappeared. No more party. Thanks a lot.”
Unfair, Alfie thought, her face growing hot with embarrassment. She had been going to give up and wait it out! And even her parents had decided not to interfere. It was Arletty’s and Phoebe’s parents who first called her mom’s cell last night! And other parents, too. Alfie wasn’t about to tell Lulu that, though.
But now, all the girls were looking at her.
“Alfie was jealous of my big-girls party,” Lulu announced to everyone. “And so she went and ruined it. And now we’re all stuck being kindergarten babies again. Thanks a lot, Alfie,” she repeated, turning her icy glare back in Alfie’s direction. “Party pooper,” she added, and her eyes narrowed.
Alfie almost giggled, hearing the word “pooper.” But she held it together.
“I didn’t ruin your party,” she finally said.
“Oh, sure you didn’t,” Lulu said, shaking her head. “Like we all believe you!” She turned back to the wide-eyed group. “I think nobody should ask Alfie to a party ever again,” she announced. “All year long. That should be her punishment. Right, you guys? Because she’s such a blabbermouth, and she wrecked my sleepover? The best one ever?”
Nobody said anything.
But now no one would look at Alfie—whose heart was beating hard.
This was the complete opposite of her wish for everyone to be—and stay—friends at the same time.
How could things go so wrong in just four measly days?
“So that’s settled,” Lulu said, brushing her hands together as if getting rid of some pesky dirt. She was acting as if she had just won a huge argument, and the girls were all cheering her on—which they were not. “Party pooper,” Lulu said again as she swept past Alfie.