Stacey's Ex-Boyfriend

by Ann M. Martin

  Claire grinned at her. “They were good,” she said, rubbing her tummy. She ended her statement with a very loud burp.

  “Oh, no!” Mallory wailed. “You ate all of them?” She scowled at Claire. “No more. Don’t eat another berry. You’ll get sick.”

  “But they’re good,” Claire protested. “I like them.”

  “It doesn’t matter. You can’t eat any more. Besides, Mom and Dad will want some, and so will Byron, Adam, and Jordan.”

  They continued to pick. Mallory suspected that every time she looked away to pick a berry, Claire popped one into her mouth. “How come our basket never gets any higher?” she asked Claire suspiciously.

  Claire shrugged innocently. “Maybe you need to pick faster,” she suggested.

  “Maybe you need to eat slower,” Mallory responded.

  Claire only grinned at her, her teeth a telltale red. When Mr. and Mrs. Pike returned an hour and a half later, they found a disheveled, berry-stained crew waiting for them. “Do you have ten dollars by any chance?” Mallory asked.

  “You picked thirty dollars worth of strawberries?” Mr. Pike cried as he dug out his wallet from his back pocket.

  Mallory nodded. “Becca, Margo, Vanessa, and Nicky are terrific pickers,” she told him. She was trying to present the bright side of things.

  The kids stood together, surrounded by piles of brimming baskets. “I picked the most,” Nicky announced proudly.

  “You did not,” Margo disagreed fiercely. “I picked all these.” She pointed to the cluster of full baskets at her feet.

  Claire chose that moment to throw up.

  All over Mallory’s shoes.

  “Oh, yuck!” Mal cried, jumping away from her. “Claire!”

  Claire gazed up at her with large, pitiful eyes. There was no sense scolding her. She was being punished already.

  Mrs. Pike found a towel in the car and began cleaning up.

  Mr. Pike paid for the berries and everyone piled into the two cars. Jessi told me that the smell of strawberries was nearly overwhelming inside the car. Squirt fell asleep almost immediately. His arm flopped down and he knocked a basket of strawberries onto the floor. “Oops,” Jessi said, bending to gather them up. “Sorry, Mr. Pike.”

  “That was fun!” Margo announced. “When can we come back?”

  As Mr. Pike buckled his seat belt, he looked over the strawberry-stained kids and the strawberries rolling on the car floor. He gazed at pale Claire, holding her head and slumped against the side of the car. “Not soon,” he muttered. “Not anytime soon.”

  “What’s the big deal?” Robert said on Monday morning when I confronted him about quitting the baseball team. I’d gone straight to his locker to talk to him.

  “The big deal is that you’re letting the team down before the game,” I replied.

  “Oh, they’ll do fine without me,” he scoffed. “Trust me.”

  “Logan says you’re one of their best hitters.”

  “There are a lot of other guys who can hit.”

  “But why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because you would have made a big deal out of it, just the way you’re doing now,” Robert answered, an edge of annoyance coming into his voice. He shut his locker with a little too much force. “I just don’t want to play anymore, okay? Is that all right with you?”

  “No!” I replied, starting to sound annoyed myself. “You’re a good player. Why quit?”

  “You didn’t mind when I quit basketball. You didn’t like the kids on the basketball team, so that was all right. But you like the baseball team, so I can’t quit. Is that it? I need your approval before I can quit a team?”

  “That’s not the point,” I insisted. “Back then, you were involved in lots of activities. But now baseball was the only thing you were involved in.”

  “So what?”

  “So — so —” I stammered, too angry to find the words I wanted. “What’s the matter with you, Robert? Why don’t you care about anything anymore?”

  “Why don’t you get a life, Stacey, and stop trying to live mine for me,” he shot back angrily. He turned and stormed down the hall.

  I watched him go, stunned. Claudia appeared beside me. “Wow! What did you say to make him so mad?”

  I told her what had been said. “You’re right. He’s in bad shape,” she said when I was done. “Now he’s turning on the one friend he has left.”

  “Could I really be the only friend he has?”

  “It looks that way,” Claudia replied. “I don’t see him with anyone else anymore.”

  We headed for homeroom. I couldn’t stop seeing a picture of Robert, alone. Always.

  How terrible. And there was no reason for it. It was all Robert’s own choosing. But he obviously wasn’t happy. He had to feel lonely.

  Even though I didn’t like his old friends, I decided to talk to them. It was possible they simply didn’t realize what was happening to Robert. If they did, they might try to help. Or maybe they knew something about him that I didn’t know.

  I started with an easy one. Alex Zacharias is the friend of Robert’s I like best. In between classes, I spotted him coming out of the boys’ room. “Can we talk?” I asked him.

  “Sure. What’s going on?”

  Again, I didn’t want to reveal anything Robert had told me privately. But I figured that everyone would soon know he had quit the team, so I started there.

  “Did you hear that Robert quit the baseball team?” I asked.

  He nodded. “Everyone has.”

  “Well, you’re his friend,” I began. “Do you have any idea why —”

  “I was his friend,” Alex corrected me.

  “You don’t consider him a friend anymore?”

  “Definitely not,” Alex said, sounding bitter. “When I needed somebody to talk to, he wasn’t around. He started avoiding me the moment my parents got divorced.”

  “Maybe he just didn’t know what to say,” I offered.

  “He could have thought of something. Having divorced parents isn’t exactly unusual. I needed him and he wasn’t there for me.”

  I couldn’t blame Alex for being angry with Robert. He felt let down, and it sounded as if he had a right to feel that way. Still, I tried to defend Robert. “He was going through a lot himself,” I said.

  “Ha. He’s so self-absorbed, he doesn’t think there’s anyone else in the world but Robert Brewster. No one else has any problems but him. I’m not surprised he quit the team. He only cares about himself. Who wants a friend like that?”

  The conversation went dead. I didn’t know what else to say. We stared at each other uncomfortably for a moment. Then Alex walked away.

  Alex’s words rang true. Robert was very self-absorbed lately. All along I’d been thinking, Oh, poor, poor Robert. Now I saw that Robert’s attitude was hurting other people: Alex, the baseball team, and me.

  After my next class, I spotted Robert’s other ex, Andi. Talking to her wouldn’t be as easy as talking to Alex, but I forced myself to walk up to her. “Hi, Andi. Do you have a minute to talk? It’s about Robert.”

  Her expression was uneasy, but she nodded. “Okay.” She chewed on her lower lip as I laid out my concerns in a general way. I knew she understood. Back in February she’d pretty much told me the same sorts of things. “It doesn’t seem to be improving at all, and I don’t know how to help him,” I confided.

  “I didn’t know either,” she replied. “That’s why I broke up with him. I didn’t see it at first. I thought he was just upset about breaking up with you. He told me he didn’t know how to handle it. I thought once that was over with, he’d lighten up. But he never did. After awhile, I didn’t know why he was even going out with me. He didn’t seem interested in anything I had to say or anything I wanted us to do together.”

  It gave me secret pleasure to hear this. It had always bothered me to think of Andi and Robert having a great time together — the way he and I used to. The fact that they’d never really had fun
or been close was nice to hear, even if it wasn’t exactly noble of me.

  “That’s a shame,” I said. “Did he ever tell you why he suddenly felt so bummed about everything?”

  “Nope. At first, I assumed it was me. I thought I was doing something wrong. But, after awhile I figured if he didn’t like me the way I was, then we had to break up. That was all there was to it. I’m happy it’s over.”

  Obviously I could add Andi to the list of people Robert had hurt. I didn’t particularly want to feel sorry for her, but I couldn’t help it. No one likes to be made to feel unlikable.

  Later that day I was in the middle of speaking to another friend of Robert’s, Heather Epstein, when Jacqui Grant barged into the conversation. “I hear you’re back together with Robert,” she said nastily.

  “We’re not back together.”

  “Oh, don’t deny it. Robert told me himself. I can’t believe you’d go back for more. You must love to be hurt.”

  “You are so full of it,” I told her. “You’ve been chasing Robert for months.”

  “That is a lie!” she huffed as she stormed away.

  Heather laughed. “She’d go out with Robert in a heartbeat, except she finally realizes it’s useless to try. She’s not the only one either.”

  “You?” I asked, surprised.

  “Yeah, why not? I wouldn’t even try, though. No one can get close to Robert anymore.”

  “He and I are pretty close,” I said.

  “Of course. Robert’s still madly in love with you.”

  “That’s not true. We’re friends.”

  She laughed. “Yeah, right. Think what you like.” She shook her head slowly, as if she thought I was the most pitifully stupid person on earth. “Well, have fun solving the Riddle of Robert. I’m out of here.”

  I was more confused than ever. None of Robert’s friends had helped me understand him.

  And Heather thought Robert was still in love with me.

  He’d told me he wasn’t, though. Told me himself, straight out.

  But he’d also told Jacqui we were back together again. Which one of us had he lied to?

  Then I remembered something else. Our fight this morning. The next time I saw Robert he might not be too friendly. He might still be mad at me.

  If our friendship fell apart, he’d be completely alone. In the future I’d have to ease up on him. Of all his friends, I had the best chance at reaching Robert. I couldn’t afford to blow it.

  I went to Robert’s locker the next morning. Without looking at me, he shut it and walked away down the hall just as I was nearing him. He made it seem as if he hadn’t noticed me, but I was pretty sure he’d seen me coming.

  If that was what he wanted, fine. I tried not to care.

  He called after supper that evening. “Stacey, it’s Robert. Please don’t hang up. But I don’t blame you if you do. I’m sorry. I’ve been acting like a moron.”

  I laughed. “Maybe I was butting in too much.”

  “No, you weren’t. It’s me. I expected fallout about quitting the team and you were the first person to give it to me.”

  I glanced out the window. It was still light. “Want to go for a walk or something?” I suggested. “We could talk.”

  “Can’t. I’m grounded.”

  “Grounded? What for?”

  “They sent a note home about my grades today.”

  “What about them?” I asked warily.

  “Nothing. I’m failing. That’s all,” he replied.

  “Failing!” I shrieked. Then I remembered my decision to lighten up on Robert. I lowered my voice. “Failing? What subjects?”

  “Let’s put it this way,” he said dryly. “I’m not failing art.”

  “Be serious,” I insisted. “You’re not failing everything else. You always had decent grades.”

  “Not anymore. But don’t worry about it. I’m not upset.”

  “Why not?” I asked.

  “Who cares about grades?”

  “You don’t want to be left back,” I reminded him, trying not to sound as frantic as I felt.

  “I won’t be. This is just the last quarter. With my other grades, everything will average out to pass.”

  “What about college?”

  “Nobody’s going to look at my eighth-grade marks for college,” he scoffed. “Besides, I don’t see the point in college.”

  “You don’t?” I asked in disbelief.

  “No. Do you know how many people with college degrees can’t find jobs? A bunch of guys in my father’s company were just laid off — after twenty years on the job. My father could be next. That’s what their college degrees did for them.”

  “But without a degree it’s even harder,” I argued.

  “What’s the difference if you’re laid off from a crummy job or a good one?” he countered.

  Talking to Robert was so maddening! If you accepted his basic idea — that everything was pointless — then he made perfect sense. But I couldn’t accept that idea. To me, things are worth doing. Sometimes you do things just for fun, to enjoy life. You do other things to help the people around you. To show your love and respect for them. And the rest of what you do is to build a good life for yourself in the future.

  That was clear to me. But then, I still felt connected to people and events in my life. I wasn’t floating around all by myself.

  And Robert had an argument for everything I said.

  “You haven’t failed yet,” I told him. “You’re not going to fail either.”

  “Stacey, I don’t think you should worry about it. It just means I can’t go for a walk right now because I’m grounded.”

  “See? It’s already stopping you from doing something you want to do. Can you have visitors?”

  “Sure. That wasn’t part of the prison sentence.”

  “Then I’m coming over. And I’m bringing books. I’m going to tutor you until you bring your grades up.”

  There was silence on the other end. Robert must have been considering my words. “Okay. It gives us a chance to spend time together. I guess it’s cool.”

  “Be right there,” I said, hanging up. The first thing I had to do was phone Claudia and tell her I couldn’t come over.

  “But I was going to sketch you, remember?” she objected. I’d asked her to sketch me for the cover of an English project. We were assigned to write a “Personal Self-Portrait.” I thought a sketch of myself would be a nice touch.

  “It will have to wait,” I said. “Robert really needs me. He’s failing all his subjects.”

  “I thought your project was due next week,” Claudia reminded me.

  “It’ll be finished,” I assured her. “It’s not as if I have to do research or anything. I know my own life. If we don’t get the sketch done, I’ll use a photo.”

  “A sketch would be so much cooler,” Claudia said.

  “I know. We can do it tomorrow. But Robert’s grounded and I don’t think he should be alone right now.”

  “You can’t be with him every second.”

  “Claudia,” I said. “Imagine that you only had one friend left. Wouldn’t you want that friend to be there for you when you needed her?”

  “Why do you have to be that friend?” she asked, sounding hurt. “You haven’t talked to Robert for months, and then, suddenly, you’re his best and only friend.”

  “Don’t be upset. You’re my best friend. But you’re not in the middle of bad times. If you were, I’d be with you all the time.”

  “I guess I understand,” she muttered. “I was just looking forward to working on this sketch. Go be with Mr. Mental.”

  “Don’t call him that!”

  “Sorry. See you tomorrow.”

  After hanging up, I checked with Mom, then walked to Robert’s house. Patti smiled when she opened the door. “Robert jumped into the shower when he heard you were coming.” She giggled. “I think he’s out now, though.”

  Robert came down the stairs, his hair still wet, looking as
if he’d just changed into fresh clothes. “Ready to do some math?” I asked him cheerfully.

  “Not really,” he replied, but his voice was lively.

  Mrs. Brewster came into the front hall and greeted me. “See, Mom? I have a tutor,” Robert told her.

  “Thank goodness,” she said.

  We sat down in the dining room and I spread out my textbook, notebook, and some of our old tests. “Let me see your tests,” I began. “Then I can tell what part of this you’re not understanding.”

  Robert ran upstairs and returned with some old tests. I checked through them and was stunned by two things. One was his grades. They were horrendous.

  But the second, more baffling thing was the way in which he’d failed the tests. “Robert, you didn’t even complete half of each test,” I observed. “The answers you finished are mostly right. What happened?”

  He shrugged. “I’d just start daydreaming, I guess.”

  “Daydreaming?” I echoed in disbelief. “In the middle of a test?”

  “I’d kind of … run out of steam.”

  “So there’s nothing here you really don’t understand?” I said.

  “No, I pretty much understand it all.”

  Hmm. I didn’t know how to tutor someone who just “lost steam.”

  “How long are you grounded for?” I asked.

  “Mom!” Robert called. His mother came into the dining room. “How long am I stuck for?”

  She thought about the question. “Is Stacey going to keep tutoring you?” Robert looked to me and I nodded. “How often?” she asked.

  “Every day,” I offered impulsively.

  “All right, then,” his mother said. “As long as you’re doing something about your grades I suppose we can lift the grounding.”

  “Thanks,” Robert said as she left the room. He turned to me. “Now you have to come over every day, though.”

  “That’s all right. We can do our homework together. I have to do it anyway. I might as well do it with you.”

  “Cool.”

  “Listen, I was thinking,” I went on. “Why don’t you come out with my friends and me tomorrow?”