Everything I Know About You

by Barbara Dee

  “What did you do, Talia?” Faustina scolded me. “You had such nice, pretty dark hair!”

  “I just wanted a change,” I said.

  “Change is for dollars!” She poured some goop on my head from a ketchup squeeze bottle. “And why do girls want to look like crayons? I’ll tell you why. The internet!”

  I burst into giggles. Mom, who was watching the whole thing, scolded me with her eyes, but she hid her laughing mouth behind a tissue.

  And not for the first time, I considered how cool my parents were. Fiona, too. What if I’d ended up with Mrs. Seeley in my family? The thought of her, with her yolkless eggs and her colorless clothes, constantly in Ava’s face, scolding and lecturing about competition in the workplace and carbs and French adverbs, almost made me sorry for Ava.

  But as I watched my hair get changed back into dark brown, and then trimmed and shaped, I told myself not to fall into the trap of feeling sorry. Ava didn’t deserve sorry. She was too mean for my feelings. And if I felt sorry for her, if I tried to be nice, she’d just turn on me again, take an awful photo, accuse me of talking behind her back. When I’d been so careful not to. Had been trying to be loyal. And, furthermore, had only been trying to help her.

  “So?” Faustina was scowling at me. “You want a little crazy color, maybe?”

  I glanced at Mom. “Can I? Just a little? Please?”

  “A little color,” Mom agreed. “But no bleach this time. Let’s make it temporary. And no green.”

  “Purple!” I told Faustina.

  “You’ll look like a crayon,” Faustina grumbled.

  But she gave me a purple streak that looked truly amazing.

  • • •

  The next day was Saturday, and Caleb came over to walk Spike with me and talk about his new obsession: geodes. I was so happy to hang out with him like normal that I didn’t even mention Marco.

  At four o’clock Mrs. Nevins drove over to pick him up. She rolled down the window and poked her head out of the car. “Hurry, Caleb, or you’ll be late,” she called.

  Then she smiled at me. “Caleb’s going bowling with Marco,” she announced proudly.

  “Great,” I said, thinking: You must be so relieved that he’s bowling with a male person.

  Caleb looked a little bit nervous. “Tally, I’d invite you to come with us, but—”

  “You remembered I detest bowling. For which I thank you.” I bowed. “See you Monday, Caleb.”

  “Yeah, Tally. Monday.”

  He got into his mom’s car. “I like your hair, by the way,” he called out, just before they sped off.

  I grinned. It was the first time he’d ever commented about how I looked.

  • • •

  As for Sonnet, I didn’t see her all weekend. But she did send me a text: Hey. I just want you to know everyone is SO MAD at Ava for sending that photo :(. Nadia isn’t speaking to her. And Haley says unless she apologizes to you (and means it!!!) she won’t be friends with her anymore.

  I wrote back: Cool. Thanks for telling me.

  Sonnet: You should sit with us at lunch on Mon!!!

  Me: Maybe I will.

  Sonnet: Don’t say maybe. Say YES!!!!

  And I thought: But you told Haley I called them clonegirls.

  Sonnet: I won’t stop until you say YES, Tally.

  I also thought: Should I forgive you? It wasn’t nice of you, even if it wasn’t nice of me.

  Sonnet: I WILL HAUNT YOUR DREAMS

  And then I thought: She sure is stubborn about including me! Even if I used a stupid word about her new friends. Okay, fine—I give up.)

  Me: Fine, I will, okay? Now are you happy?!

  Sonnet: :D :D :D

  What We Learned

  WHEN I CAME INTO THE kitchen for breakfast on Monday morning, Mom was there drinking coffee while Fiona read her phone and ate a Cinna-mmm muffin.

  “Shouldn’t you be at the bakery?” I asked Mom.

  “On my way,” she answered, smiling. “But I missed my baby like crazy last week, so I just wanted to see you off this morning. Oh, and give you this.” She pushed a bakery box toward me.

  “What’s that for?”

  “To bring to school for Ava and her mom. As our thanks for taking care of you,” she explained.

  Oh, bleep.

  Fiona looked up from her phone. “So Ava’s mom turned out to be nice?”

  “I guess,” I muttered. “In a way. It’s kind of complicated.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I mean, she was nice to me. And she’s not an evil person or anything. But.”

  Mom sipped her coffee. “But what?”

  “I’m just glad we have the family we do,” I said. “I really love us.”

  Mom’s eyes filled. She reached across the table to smoosh me in a hug. “Me too, baby. And I’ll always love Marisa for bringing you to us.”

  “So will I,” I said, my voice wobbling.

  “Aww,” Fiona teased. “Such a touching scene, you guys.” But she joined the hug also.

  And while I was being smooshed by my mom and my sister, my brain was whirring. I couldn’t give these pastries to Ava—if I did, she’d probably think I was taunting her or something. Plus I knew that Mrs. Seeley would disapprove of them, anyway. They weren’t her idea of appropriate nutrition.

  I finally pulled away. “But maybe we could give Ava and her mom something else? Like, I don’t know. Roses?”

  “Tally, roses are expensive,” Mom said. “Besides, we’re a bakery family, so this little gift from us is more personal. Just bring the box of goodies.”

  “And if the Seeleys don’t appreciate it, tough,” Fiona added.

  • • •

  What I did was bring the goodies to Ms. Jordan during homeroom.

  “Oh, what are these for?” she asked.

  “Just a thank you for the trip,” I said. “And for calling my parents about the hair thing. It helped.”

  She smiled. “Well, the hair thing turned out gorgeous, Tally. I really like that bit of purple. And I hope the trip turned out okay for you in the end. I know there were some tricky moments.”

  The way she said this, I could tell she hadn’t heard about the photo. Was that a good thing or a bad thing? I wasn’t sure, but I wasn’t going to tell her about it myself. No point making things even worse with Ava.

  • • •

  Later that morning, in social studies, Ms. Jordan greeted everyone as if she hadn’t seen us in a month.

  “I hope you all had time to recover from the trip,” she said. “And before we proceed with our discussion of the Federalist Papers, I’d like us to take a few moments to reflect on what we learned in DC.”

  It was such a New Teacher thing to do. But Ms. Jordan was a really nice person, so I didn’t resist.

  “I learned that the National Zoo has a Screaming Hairy Armadillo,” I said.

  Ms. Jordan laughed. “Let’s raise our hands, please, Tally.”

  I raised my hand. “Screaming Hairy Armadillo,” I repeated. “Oh, and also, the Washington Monument is not five hundred fifty-five feet, five inches. At first I hated knowing that, but now I’m glad. I’ve decided it makes it seem more human.”

  Jamal’s hand shot up. “I learned how the whispering gallery in the Capitol building works.”

  “I learned about the Skylab Four command module,” Shanaya said. “And about the lunar rover.”

  “I learned the Supreme Court doesn’t allow cell phones,” Trey said. “Which is kind of stupid, although I guess they need it quiet.”

  Ava’s hand waved high above her head, like a flag.

  “Yes, Ava?” Ms. Jordan nodded at her, smiling.

  Ava waited for everyone to look at her. Then she said, in a loud, clear voice: “I learned that there’s no point trying to be nice to certain people, because whatever you do, they don’t appreciate it. Also, if everyone thinks a certain person is freakish and crazy, it’s probably true.”

  My mouth dropped open. Sonnet a
nd Haley met my eyes.

  “I learned some people can’t admit they need help,” I blurted.

  “Okay,” Ms. Jordan cut in. “Can we please—”

  “And some people think they’re Wonder Woman,” Ava snapped.

  “Nobody thinks that,” I snapped back. “Nobody.”

  “Girls,” Ms. Jordan said. “This is not a private discussion.”

  Ava smirked. “Well, good. Because Tally doesn’t understand those at all.”

  “Ava, enough,” Ms. Jordan said sharply. “I’d like a word with you after class. Tally, too.”

  “Me?” I said. “But what did I do?”

  “After class. Not now,” Ms. Jordan barked. Not sounding like a New Teacher at all.

  • • •

  When the bell rang, we waited for everyone to leave the room. Then Ava and I walked over to Ms. Jordan’s desk.

  “So,” Ms. Jordan folded her arms across her chest. “What was that about?”

  Ava tossed her head, reminding us about her perfect hair. “Nothing,” she replied innocently. “You asked what we learned, and I was just answering the question.”

  “Come on, Ava, you knew what the question meant,” I muttered.

  “I agree,” Ms. Jordan said, nodding. “Is there something you want to get off your chest, Ava? Because now is the time to do it. Not in the middle of class.”

  Ava shrugged. Ms. Jordan waited.

  My heart banged. Were we going to stand here like this forever?

  “Well, all right, then,” Ms. Jordan finally said. “If you girls ever want to talk this out, I’m here for you. Or you can make an appointment with a guidance counselor. Whatever you two need to do to resolve this. But I do not want a repeat of today’s class. Am I clear?”

  “Sure,” Ava said.

  “Sure,” I echoed.

  • • •

  “And Ava never apologized to you?” Sonnet was asking at lunch. “Not about what she said in class, or about the photo?”

  “Nope,” I said, waving across the cafeteria at Caleb as he took a seat with Marco.

  “That’s so horrible,” Haley said. “I don’t know what’s up with her lately.”

  “In DC I tried talking to her about the food thing,” Nadia said. “But she wouldn’t listen. She said I was being jealous and bossy.”

  “Which you so aren’t,” Sonnet assured her.

  “Well, even if she’s grumpy from over-dieting, it doesn’t give her the right to be nasty to her friends,” Haley said. “And by the way, I love your hair, Tally.”

  “Yeah, the purple is awesome,” Nadia said. “So was your mom mad at you after the trip?”

  She meant about my Sour Apple hair. Ancient history! “Nah,” I said. “Ms. Jordan called to warn her, so she was fine.”

  “And she’s okay with the purple?”

  “Yup.”

  “You’re so lucky, Tally,” Nadia said. “I wish my mom was as cool as yours.”

  “Yeah, she’s pretty great.” My eyes wandered over to the table where Caleb was sitting with Trey, Marco, Derrick, and Jamal. Right at that second, Marco looked up at me. I blushed.

  “Do you think she’d talk to my mom?” Nadia was asking.

  “About what?” I said.

  “Some color. For me.”

  “I guess,” I said. Stop blushing.

  “My mom too?” Haley begged. “Pleeeeease, Tally?”

  Sonnet grinned at me then, like See? They can be nice, can’t they? Don’t you want to be their friend?

  That was when I finally focused: Nadia and Haley wanted the purple streak too. My hair color, maybe my haircut. And even if I wasn’t using the word “clonegirl” anymore, I definitely didn’t want them copying my hair.

  “Anyway, I may have decided to shave my head,” I declared. “I’m thinking of a henna design on my scalp. Maybe a Revolutionary War scene?”

  “Tally, you’re joking,” Nadia said. “Aren’t you?”

  “I never joke. Ask Sonnet.”

  Sonnet turned pink. “Oh, Tally,” she began, laughing.

  Suddenly, on the other side of the lunchroom, there was a crash.

  The Whole Truth

  “AVA SEELEY JUST FAINTED!” ALTHEA was shouting. “Someone get the nurse!”

  Nadia jumped up. “Omigod. Omigod.”

  “I’ll go,” I said, and started running down the hall to find Ms. Goswami, the school nurse.

  But someone must have called her, because before I’d gotten halfway to her office, Ms. Goswami was running toward me. “Did you see it?” she asked breathlessly.

  “No,” I said. “Not this time.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I saw Ava faint on the seventh grade trip. After exercising.”

  “What kind of exercise?”

  “Just sit-ups. But she’s not eating.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I was her roommate. She threw away food—”

  “Did you tell anyone? About the food and the fainting?”

  “I couldn’t! I wanted to but she made me promise!”

  Ms. Goswami shot me a look. I knew it was an accusation: You should have told someone, Tally. That was very poor judgment.

  By then we were in the lunchroom. Ava was already sitting up, smiling but looking as white as paper.

  “I’m fine,” she was saying to the crowd of kids standing around her. “I just got dizzy for a second.”

  Ms. Goswami knelt beside Ava, checked her pulse, felt her head, and murmured something in her ear. Ava nodded. Then Ms. Goswami slowly and carefully helped Ava stand and led her away, her arm around Ava’s tiny shoulders.

  The rest of us stood there.

  “Whoa,” Trey said. “That was scary, man.”

  “What’s wrong with her?” Jamal asked.

  Sonnet looked at me, as if I was the one who was supposed to answer.

  And I probably could have:

  She was over-exercising.

  She felt hot.

  She was super dehydrated.

  It’s a stomach thing.

  Her parents are divorcing.

  People faint all the time.

  None of your business.

  But none of these seemed like the whole truth—and anyway, right then I was too heartsick to say a word.

  • • •

  Ava didn’t come to class for the rest of the day. And during music, some lady showed up to say I was “wanted” by Ms. Pressman in the guidance office. Which made me feel even more like a criminal than I already did.

  And Ms. Pressman was pretty much the last person I wanted to see. She had a thing about “showing your feelings.” Like she thought that unless you ugly-cried in her office, snot leaking out of your nose, you weren’t telling her the truth.

  As soon as I showed up, she led me into a tiny room and closed the door. “I guess you can figure out why I wanted to chat with you,” she murmured, hypnotizing me with her sympathetic stare.

  “It’s about Ava’s fainting, right?” I asked in a hollow whisper. “Is she okay?”

  Ms. Pressman did a slow blink for an answer and rested her chin on her fists. “I heard this happened before?”

  “Well, once. One time I know about.”

  I started talking. This time I didn’t hold anything back. I told her about the cinnamon muffin, the meals in the garbage can, the notebook. All the exercising. Mrs. Seeley’s comments about women’s appearances, and carbs. Even the hangers. Even the divorce. Before I finished, the bell rang for the next period, but Ms. Pressman told me to stay. Maybe because I hadn’t ugly-cried yet.

  “So is Ava going to be okay?” I repeated.

  “We’re all very hopeful,” she replied quietly. “One thing I’m sure of: She’s going to get the best treatment out there. Anyway, thanks for all this background information. You’ve been so helpful, Tally.”

  But even though she was gazing at me with big, soft eyes, I knew she was lying. I hadn’t been helpful at all, not really.
I could have done more. Said more. Said anything.

  A good roommate is more important than a friend.

  But I hadn’t been either one, had I? I’d pretended to be this nice, caring person, but the whole time I’d only been thinking about myself. Although not even about myself—about what other people thought about myself. And acting like this superhero dolphin, rescuing all the wrong people from drowning.

  And then, thinking about water, I felt my eyes finally fill with tears.

  A Bunch of Obelisks

  AVA DIDN’T COME BACK TO school that week. Rumors swirled: She was in a hospital. She was living with her dad. She was being homeschooled. She was in a private school in DC. She was faking to get attention.

  The following Monday, Ms. Pressman showed up in social studies.

  “I want to share some news with you all about Ava,” she said in her warm, slow, guidancey voice. “Speaking with some of you over the last week, I know you’re aware that lately she hasn’t been eating in a healthy way. Her parents have asked me to share with you that over the past few months, Ava has been struggling with an eating disorder, anorexia. Fortunately, there are caring experts who specialize in treating kids with this issue, helping them feel better about themselves and their bodies, and get healthy again. Ava’s parents have found a wonderful treatment center for her, and that’s where she’ll be for a while. But she’s planning to return to Eastview as soon as she can. And she’s asked me to say she misses everybody.”

  “Omigod,” Nadia said. Her face crumpled.

  “Ava will be okay,” Ms. Jordan said firmly. “And it’s important that she knows we’re all rooting for her. So I had this idea.” She went into her closet and held up a giant glossy poster: a blowup of the class photo we took in front of the Lincoln Memorial. Everyone lined up in their ugly spirit tees. Everyone saying “dream.” Me saying “cheese.”

  Ms. Jordan produced a bunch of colored Sharpies. “We’d like you to write a short note next to your picture,” she said. “Just a simple, positive message. You know, like ‘Thinking of you’ or ‘You can do it’ or ‘Go, Ava.’ And then sign your name.”