The Girls

by Amy Goldman Koss

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Maya

  Renée

  Darcy

  Maya

  Brianna

  candace

  Maya

  Renée

  Darcy

  Brianna

  Darcy

  candace

  Maya

  Brianna

  Renée

  Brianna

  Darcy

  Maya

  Renée

  Candace

  Darcy

  Maya

  Brianna

  Rennée

  Darcy

  Brianna

  Maya

  Nicole

  Published by Dial Books for Young Readers

  A division of Penguin Putnam Inc.

  345 Hudson Street

  New York, New York 10014

  Copyright © 2000 by Amy Goldman Koss

  Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data

  Koss, Amy Goldman, date.

  Summary: Each of the girls in a middle-school clique reveals the strong, manipulative hold one of the group exerts on the others, causing hurt and self-doubt among the girls.

  eISBN : 978-1-101-04324-0

  [1. Friendship—Fiction. 2. Behavior—Fiction.] I. Title.

  PZ7.K8527Gi 2000

  [Fic]—dc21 99-19318 CIP

  http://us.penguingroup.com

  To my sweet Emily, with love, and special thanks to Lena V.

  Maya

  LAST SATURDAY, I STUMBLED half asleep into the kitchen, aiming for a bowl of granola, thinking it was just any old Saturday morning. But when I came through the kitchen door, my little sister, Lena, yelled, “Maya’s awake! Can I tell her? Can I, please?”

  My dad nodded.

  “Tell me what?” I asked sleepily.

  “Daddy’s taking us to Six Flags, Magic Mountain TODAY!” Lena screamed. “And we can each bring a friend!”

  “Really?” I was suddenly wide awake. “Really?”

  Dad’s smile grew. “Eat something first,” he said.

  “YA-HOO!” I yelled. My sister was jumping around the kitchen and I jumped with her.

  Lena was bringing Ann, of course. They always did everything together. My parents called them “Salt and Pepper.”

  First I called Candace, because everyone in our group called Candace first for everything. That was just the way things were. But her line was busy, so I called Renée.

  “Hi, Renée,” I said. “It’s Maya. Wanna go to Magic Mountain with me today? My dad’ll take us!”

  I’d expected Renée to squeal with joy or moan with disappointment, but there was silence. That wasn’t really so strange, though, because Renée always thought and spoke slowly. I’d just thought that talking about a trip to an amusement park with tons of rides would speed her up.

  Finally Renée said, “Gee, Maya, I um . . . I can’t.”

  I knew her folks were going through a divorce and she was shuttling back and forth between their apartments, so I figured that was the reason she couldn’t go. I could picture her serious face, her eyebrows knitted. Actually, Renée’s eyebrows were so light, you could barely see them knit—you’d only see her forehead bunch up.

  “Um, thanks,” Renée added. “I’m, I’m really sorry.”

  “That’s okay,” I said, feeling sorrier for her than me.

  I hung up and tried Candace’s number again, but her line was still busy. I’d have waited for her to hang up, but the longer it took me to find a friend and get ready, the less time we’d have for the rides. It was a long drive to Magic Mountain.

  So I called Brianna, but her mom picked up and said Bree wasn’t home. I knew Brianna hated it when her mom called her Bree, but I didn’t say anything. “She’s on her way to Darcy’s,” Mrs. Cohen said. “Aren’t you going too, dear?”

  “To Darcy’s?” I asked.

  Brianna’s mom just said, “Oh,” and hurried off the phone. A gray, wispy sort of feeling started forming in my gut, where my excitement had just been. I took the phone to my room, shut the door, and punched out Candace’s number for the third time. She answered.

  “Candace?” I said, feeling suddenly a little shy. “It’s Maya. I wondered if you’d like to go to Magic Mountain with me today.”

  “Tooo-day?” Candace said. The wisp in my gut grew to a gray cloud. “No, Maya,” she said. “I won’t be Magic Mountaineering today.” Then Candace made a choking laugh and blurted, “Gotta go!” and hung up—bam. That “bam” felt like a door slamming in my face.

  I didn’t dare call Darcy. I bet they were all going there—without me. Well, maybe Darcy forgot to invite me. No, someone would have said, “Aren’t you coming to Darcy’s?” The gray cloud slithered up my chest. Higher, to my throat, choking me.

  But couldn’t it be a coincidence that everyone was busy? Brianna’s mom just thought I’d be going to Darcy’s because we all hang around so much together, right? Wrong.

  What had I done?

  Had the girls been acting strange toward me? Did anyone act weird yesterday at school? I thought back. All I could remember was that Candace took one look at my new gray sweater with the loose lacy weave and said, “What corpse did you steal that from?”

  I’d laughed. I’m not sensitive about stuff like clothes and Candace was right, it did look cobwebby! I knew that from then on I’d always see my new sweater as a shroud on a mummy. Candace had that effect on me. When I’d been so thrilled bringing a persimmon from my own tree to school, Candace had shuddered, saying the inside was the texture of snot. “Sweet red snot,” she’d said. Instantly, that was exactly what it felt and tasted like. I’d gagged and spit it out.

  I glanced at the mirror and caught myself chewing on my nails. None of the other girls bit their nails. Candace and Darcy collected nail polishes. Between them, they had every color under the sun.

  How long had they been planning to leave me out of whatever it was they were doing today? The grayness curled around my head, squeezing.

  Had anything happened in the lunchroom Friday? We’d all sat together as usual at our table by the window, and I couldn’t remember anything odd. Unless it was when I’d said we should start a baby-sitters club, like in the books. I’d thought it was a good idea and I knew we could make a ton of money in the neighborhood, but Candace and Darcy had stared at me as if I’d grown fangs. Then they looked at each other and burst out laughing.

  I’d said, “What’s so funny?” but they were laughing too hard to answer me. I’d looked at Renée. She shrugged. “What’s so funny?” I asked again, but that made Candace and Darcy laugh even harder. Brianna smiled along with them. Then the bell rang.

  On the way out of the cafeteria Renée said to me, “You know, um. Candace watches her brother and sisters a lot. Maybe she, maybe she thinks that’s enough baby-sitting?”

  Lena burst through my door.

  “I told you to KNOCK!” I said.

  “Sorr-rry. Daddy said we’re leaving in fifteen minutes. Why are you still in your nightgown?”

  I imagined myself at Magic Mountain with Salt and Pepper shrieking in my ear on the rides, begging my dad for cotton candy and churros, giggling constantly. I liked them, but without a friend there for me . . .

  “I’m not going,” I said.

  “Huh?”

  “Magic Mountain is stupid,” I said. “It’s for babies.”

  “Is not.”

  “Is too.”

  Lena ran from my room yelling, “Daddy, Maya doesn’t wanna go!”

  What was I going to tell him? It was a very big deal that my dad was willing to take us and spend that kind of money. We all knew that living in this neighborhood
, renting this house, meant no extra money for stuff like day trips and treats. We hadn’t been anywhere in ages. I couldn’t stay home because Momma had just gotten a job as an interpreter at the hospital, and she’d be gone all day. Other girls were allowed to stay home alone, but not me.

  My dad appeared at my door. “What’s the matter?” he asked, already sounding annoyed.

  “I just don’t want to go,” I said.

  “Ten minutes ago you were thrilled,” he said. “Weren’t you the girl who jumped up and down cheering?”

  I said, “Sorry.”

  “Did you get a better offer?”

  “No.”

  My sister peeked around my door. “Well,” Dad sighed. “Momma’s gone to work and I’m taking Salt and Pepper. You want me to drop you at a friend’s house or something?”

  That’s when tears filled my eyes. I suddenly had no friends. I tried to think of someone I could call. Someone from outside the group, some friend from before. But it had been so long, and I guess I’d dropped everyone else when Candace and her crowd had come along. Not dropped in a mean way, not with a BAM. I’d just sort of drifted away, faded out. If I called one of those girls now, I’d have to say something about why I hadn’t called them in so long. Worse, they’d instantly know I’d been dumped. They’d hear the echo of Candace’s “BAM!”

  Maybe I should just show up at Darcy’s, just walk in casual and cool and say, “Hey! What’s up?” But I knew I couldn’t do that. Most likely, I’d creep in all cowardly, cringing and speechless, like a dope. Worse, I’d whimper, blubber like a baby, beg.

  “I’ll be ready in a second,” I said, not looking my dad in the eye. “I’ve just got to get dressed.”

  He nodded and left, closing my door behind him.

  Renée

  I KNOCKED ON THE bathroom door. “Mom?”

  “Come on in,” she said. I didn’t want to come in. I wanted her to come out. She’d been in there all morning.

  “Are you going to drive me to Darcy’s?” I asked through the closed door. Actually, I must have said something like, “Are you um, um, going to um, drive me to um, Darcy’s,” because Mom said, “Try it without the ums please, Renée.”

  So I carefully repeated, “Are - you - going - to - drive - me - to - Darcy’s - house?”

  Satisfied this time, Mom answered, “Can’t you walk?”

  “I told you,” I said. “I’ve gotta take my sleeping bag and stuff.”

  “Give me a second,” she said. My heart sank when I heard her bathwater swoosh. It wouldn’t be a second. She was still in the tub and hadn’t even started her hair/makeup ritual. No ancient tribe took longer to prepare for their sacred ceremonies than Mom took to prepare for her day. My friends thought I was a slowpoke, but I was lightning compared with her.

  Forty-five minutes later we were in the car. Mom was saying that my dad would pick me up from Darcy’s tomorrow, then she’d get me from his apartment Sunday night. She wanted me to be ready to leave. She did not want to wait around his apartment for me. I already knew that.

  “Darcy didn’t invite Maya,” I said, interrupting her.

  “Well, Darcy is certainly free to invite whomsoever she pleases to her parties,” my mom said.

  “Everyone is invited but Maya.”

  “Everyone,” Mom scoffed. “The entire seventh grade?”

  “And Maya called me this morning to ask if I wanted to go to Magic Mountain with her.”

  “That was nice.”

  “Well, it made me feel . . .”

  “Squirmy?” Mom said, finishing my sentence. I was going to say guilty, but squirmy was close enough, so I nodded.

  “Life is squirmy, Renée. It’s just one long squirm, birth to death.” She wiggled behind the steering wheel and laughed. Then she said, “You’re not responsible for someone else’s guest list. Save your squirms for your own embarrassing mistakes.”

  “But I didn’t know what to say when she—”

  “Don’t go borrowing squirms,” Mom said. “That one’s not yours. I suppose you could have boycotted the party, said, ‘I ain’t comin’ unless Maya comes.’ But what would that get you—besides uninvited to parties?”

  “But—”

  “But what?”

  It didn’t feel right, but I couldn’t put it in words. When Darcy had called the night before to invite me to her sleep-over, and told me she wasn’t inviting Maya, it gave me a stomachache. I’d hung up and called Brianna, but Brianna was like my mom—she didn’t think it was my problem or hers either.

  We pulled up to Darcy’s driveway. “Have fun!” Mom said. “See you tomorrow night. Be ready!”

  I got out of the car and lugged my stuff to Darcy’s front porch. My mom honked as she drove off. I wished she wouldn’t do that. The other mothers didn’t honk.

  Darcy’s big sister, Keloryn, let me in. Whenever I wished I had a sister, it was always Keloryn I imagined. She was nothing like Darcy. Not that I didn’t like Darcy, but Darcy had a sort of sneaky way about her. Well, not sneaky exactly, but kind of prickly. No, that’s not the right word. Well, whatever Darcy was, Keloryn was the opposite.

  She wasn’t like other big sisters who always tried to embarrass everyone and act cooler than cool. “Hi, Renée!” she said, smiling her big, friendly smile. “Everyone’s upstairs.”

  I dropped my sleeping bag and stuff on the pile and went upstairs. Darcy’s staircase was wider than the stairs of my apartment building. I loved her stairs. I know it sounds silly, but I pictured myself dressed fancy, floating up those wide stairs, like in a scene from a romantic movie.

  I followed the giggles to Darcy’s room and opened the door. For a second I was confused, but then I realized everyone was wearing wigs! There was Darcy with long blond corkscrew curls boinging down her back instead of her own straight brown hair. Darcy is so small and thin that the big loopy curls looked like an octopus swallowing her headfirst.

  Everyone was laughing and shoving to get to the mirror. “Better late than never!” Darcy said, seeing me at the door. She tossed me a black wig but I missed it. It looked like a shaggy dog at my feet. As I stooped to pick it up, I said, “My mom, she . . .”

  “Let me guess,” Candace said, stuffing her long dark hair into a strawberry blond wig. “Your mom went into slow motion, right?”

  I smiled. “Right.”

  “It’s worth it,” Candace said. “She always looks like a million bucks.” Then Candace looked in the mirror and said, “Yikes! My mom wore her hair like this as a teenager.”

  “You look like her,” Brianna said.

  Candace rolled her eyes. I knew she didn’t like hearing that, because once when we were looking at old photos at her house, I’d said the same thing and she’d said, “But look at my mom now! She just let herself go full-bloat frump!”

  I’d figured Mrs. Newman couldn’t help getting older, and I still thought she was pretty, but I hadn’t said anything.

  Then Candace had showed me another picture of her parents, one taken before she was born. Mr. Newman had his arm around Mrs. Newman’s teeny tiny waist, and they were both smiling their hearts out. They obviously adored each other. There were no photos in the world of my parents looking so in love, but I didn’t mention that. Instead I’d said, “They look like movie stars. Look at your mom’s waist!”

  “Yeah, I wonder what my dad thinks of her waist now.” Candace had squinted at me then and said, “What do you suppose made two good-looking people like that have so many kids?”

  I’d shrugged. “That’s what people do!”

  “Yeah, well, your parents just had you. Even Brianna’s parents thought they got it right the first time, thought Brianna was enough. Mine had to go on after me, and have not one, not two,” Candace ticked them off on her fingers, “but THREE more kids! I’m not going to throw my life away like that.”

  “Your mom seems happy to me,” I’d said.

  “That makes it even sadder,” Candace said.

  “It
’s sad that she’s—that she’s happy?” I’d asked.

  “Her life is diapers and bottles and Nick’s soccer games.” Candace shivered. “What in the world has she got to be happy about?”

  “I don’t know about Brianna’s parents,” I’d said. “But my parents stopped at one kid because they . . . they didn’t like each other!” Candace knew my parents were separated. But I’d never told her, or anyone, that the only reason they got married in the first place was because of me—because Mom was pregnant with me.

  I put on the wig. It felt strange, tight. I wondered how women could stand that feeling. But looking down at the long black hair falling all the way to my lap, I figured it was worth the discomfort to suddenly be someone new.

  Brianna pulled a red mass of curls over her own dark blond hair.

  “There’s a kid in our homeroom with hair that color,” Candace said. “Darcy, what’s that girl’s name who sits next to me? Is it Nicole?”

  Darcy shrugged.

  “But she wears it in a fabulous, thick braid. Not a poodle-do,” Candace said.

  “Maybe I should wear this mop to the audition,” Brianna said. “It’s a comedy, after all.”

  “Audition?” Candace whipped her wigged head around.

  “Yeah,” Brianna said. “That group at the college that did that play last year? Tryouts are coming up again.”

  “Wow!” I said. “I hope you get a part. We all loved it last year.”

  “I suppose it’s possible that lightning can strike the same place twice,” Candace said. I wondered what she meant by that. I looked over at her. She was pulling on a platinum blond wig. That’s my hair color! It was so weird seeing Candace in disguise, and weirder still to see her disguised as me! Her dark eyebrows and long black lashes looked strange with my nearly white hair. The whole thing was like a bizarre dream.

  All the girls were themselves, but not—they looked so different in the wigs. Me too. I kept peeking in the mirror, wondering how my life would be if I really looked like that. I tossed my head, feeling the waves ripple down my back—longer, thicker, and even blacker than Candace’s.

  Darcy took off the blond corkscrew curls and was herself for a minute while she hunted through the wig pile. I didn’t want to try on a different one. Mine felt perfect.