Definitely Daphne

by Tami Charles

“Deal with what?”

  “Everything, I guess. Your dad being deployed.”

  “You just do. Fill up your time with activities, like hanging out with your friends, going to the movies, shopping. All of that stuff is important too. Besides, why would you care? You have your mom at home with you.”

  I chew on my bottom lip. “My mom’s being sent to Afghanistan. TDY.”

  It’s the first time I’ve said those words to anyone outside of my circle.

  For a second, it looks like Rachael feels sorry for me.

  “Well that T for temporary is nothing but a lie.” Rachael splashes water on her face. ”Anyway, I’m over it.” Rachael’s voice returns to snob status. Then she whips out her makeup bag and starts putting her face on again.

  “Why’d you ask me to sit with you at lunch?”

  “No reason in particular.” Rachael must feel me staring at the way she does her makeup. “Want me to show you a new trend?” she asks.

  “Sure,” I say.

  She pulls out a brown pencil and starts drawing a squiggly line around my eyebrow. Then she fills it in.

  “All the style blogs are talking about this.” She hands me the pencil so I can draw the other eyebrow. I look in the mirror, carefully drawing it, wondering if I look stylish or plain ridiculous.

  Just then a notification sounds off on my phone. I finish up my squiggly brow and hand her back the pencil. When I open the home screen, I see it’s a YouTube update. According to their stats, my last video, “Daphne Definitely Doesn’t Do Drama,” has over thirty-five thousand views and my channel has nine thousand subscribers. Holy cow! My heart starts racing so fast, I drop my phone on the floor.

  Rachael quickly reaches down and grabs it, but not before being nosey.

  “Hmm… I thought you don’t watch that vlog.”

  “I accidentally followed it. Now I get these silly notifications every now and then.”

  “You know what I found out about that Daphne girl?” Rachael applies a final coat of lip gloss.

  “What’s that?”

  “That she lives here.”

  Alert! Alert! Somebody call me an ambulance!

  “Um, what do you mean?”

  “Like here in Jersey!” Rachael pulls out her phone and scrolls to the comment on YouTube from Mae about Daphne being a “Jersey Girl.”

  “Oh!” I laugh nervously. “But you know, this state is so big.”

  “How crazy would it be if she lived close to Linden?”

  “Totally crazy. Hey, I thought you don’t follow her either.”

  The brown in Rachael’s cheeks deepens. “I don’t. I just stumbled on that channel after Mr. Davis showed us that stupid video in drama rehearsal. Remember?”

  The second bell rings. Just then Clairna and two older kids walk in.

  Clairna gives me a wink as she walks to the sink next to where Rachael and I are standing in front of the mirror.

  “Hey, speaking of hanging out, I’m going shopping and maybe to the movies with a few friends this weekend,” Rachael says. “You should come. I could help you pick out some new clothes.”

  What did she say? My stomach is doing backflips, but I try to play it cool. I pull a chunk of hair back behind my ears like I see the teens do in rom-com movies.

  “Shopping?” My voice is scratchy sounding.

  “Bryan will be there.” Rachael giggles.

  Clairna starts coughing super loud.

  Bryan Green. Stats: Sun-kissed skin. Basketball team. Keeps a fresh haircut like he lives in the barbershop. Smells good. Not that I ever stood close enough to tell, but if I did, I bet he’d smell woodsy.

  “Oh, that’s cool. Is Steven Chu going too?” I ask.

  And cue Clairna coughing again!

  Rachael twists her face at Clairna, but doesn’t even ask if she’s OK.

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  Without Rachael noticing, Clairna presses on my foot, gentle at first, then harder.

  “Oww, I mean, aww… that’s fine.” I curl my toes inside my Mary Janes. “I think I can fit it in my sched.” I shorten the word because I hear the kids doing that all the time around here.

  “Here, take my number.” Rachael grabs my phone and types in her info. “Saturday. Four o’clock. Aviation Plaza.” And then she heads for the exit.

  “Bye. Um, see you around there, I mean then.…”

  The door slams shut.

  “I can’t believe you’re going shopping with Rachael Myers!” Clairna squeals.

  “I tried to work you in there with the Steven angle, but—”

  “I heard that.… ugh!” Clairna’s smile fades. “Whatever. Who cares? Annabelle, I think maybe she’s starting to finally see what we’ve seen all along: that you are one cool chick.”

  30

  Daphne Goes Shopping

  Dad has a conniption mid-drive when I tell him that after shopping, the girls and I are going to the movies “with some guys from school.”

  “Guys?” His neck goes beet red, and he almost loses control of the steering wheel.

  “It’s not a big deal, Dad.”

  Mom butts in. “Put a sock in it, Ruben. Our girl’s growing up.” She turns to me. “You can go, but we’ll pick you up right after the movie is over, you hear?”

  “Yes, Mom.”

  Mom and Dad drop me off at Aviation Plaza, right in front of the Kicks USA store. At first I don’t see anyone, so I just stand there waiting.

  “If you need us we’ll be right there in Target,” Dad calls out the window. “I have my phone on me… and a baseball bat in the trunk.”

  Mom starts cracking up.

  “Please don’t be weird and follow me around,” I shout back.

  “We promise. Have fun with your new friends,” Mom says. Then they finally drive off.

  I shuffle around on the sidewalk and stare at the dried leaves scattering across the pavement. A few minutes later, I get a text.

  Rachael: Hey girl, almost there.

  It’s not long before a car pulls up and Rachael, Natasha, and Lauren step out and wave Mrs. Myers off.

  “Ready for some shopping, girls?” Rachael yells.

  We all laugh and go inside the Kicks store.

  “Having a collection of fresh kicks is essential when you’re in middle school,” Rachael says to me, like I’m a student in her personal fashion academy.

  I walk around taking note of every style she suggests, but on the inside, I’m gagging at the prices. $129 for a pair of sneakers! I could rack up at Trölodei with that kind of money.

  “You should try these on.” Natasha holds up a pair of Nikes with a sparkly glitter-gold symbol.

  Too flashy. Totally not my style, but I just go with it and say, “Sure!”

  When I put them on, I still feel the same way, but the girls are ooh-ing and ahh-ing about how “lit” they are.

  “You should get them!” Rachael insists.

  I don’t tell her that I only have a hundred dollars saved from my allowance.

  “I think I’ll pass,” I say.

  “Well if you don’t want them, I’m scooping these bad boys up.”

  Rachael and Natasha grab the same sneakers. I have to get something, so I follow Lauren to the clothing section. She’s got her hands full with jeans and tops. I check to make sure no one is watching and head to the clearance rack. I pick up a T-shirt that’s on sale for nine dollars.

  “That’s all you’re getting?” Rachael asks when we get to the register.

  “Yeah.” My cheeks go red. “I’m holding out for the good stuff at the other stores we go to.”

  “Ah, I see your strategy! You’re gonna love Old Navy and Mad Rag.”

  We pay for our things and then walk out of the store. As we walk, I spot the Second Chance thri
ft store, where Mom and I went shopping for Daphne outfits. I kid you not, in the store window, I see a shirt similar to one from Kicks that was almost sixty dollars. But here at Second Chance, it’s priced at three dollars. THREE DOLLARS!

  Oh, I MUST go in! “Guys, let’s check this place out,” I say aloud.

  Rachael, Lauren, and Natasha make faces like they just smelled fresh roadkill.

  “I know you’re new to the country and all, so let me school you on some things,” Rachael says. “This is a hand-me-down store. The clothes in here are not… how would you say…”

  “Um, lit! They’re clothes for, like, old people!” Lauren chimes in.

  But my hand is already on the door and I’m halfway into the store. The girls follow me in, probably to change my mind.

  I see so many cool things here, and they’re begging for me to buy them. With ninety-one dollars left, I could do some real damage in this store. I snatch a burgundy velvet vintage dress off the rack.

  “You’re kidding, right?” Rachael eyes the dress skeptically.

  Just then, I see the lady from the last time I shopped here with Mom — Georgia. Her eyes light up when she recognizes me. And then I remember how Mom told this sweet lady ALL of my business while we were shopping.

  I toss the dress back on the rack like it’s garbage. “Totally playing with you guys!” I lie as blue as the sky. “Let’s go.”

  “Oh, I thought so,” Natasha says.

  “Yeah, let’s get out of here!” Lauren says.

  But Georgia’s already moving in on us. “Hey! I remember you!”

  The girls give me weird looks. But I keep pushing us along.

  That doesn’t stop Georgia from following us. “How’d everything go with that show you were working on?” she asks.

  Rachael looks at me, confused.

  “Oh, the play?” I say. “Yeah, that was fun. Big turnout. Nice seeing you, gotta go!”

  I’m really pushing the girls out now, moving farther and farther away from Georgia.

  “But I thought it was something with the computer?” she mumbles, and I pray I’m the only one who heard her.

  “What was all that about?” Rachael asks.

  We cross the parking lot and head to Old Navy. I see Mom and Dad walking into Marshalls, but they don’t see me. Thank goodness!

  “Um, not really sure. Probably a bad memory!” I say.

  “Yeah, old people!” Rachael says.

  All the girls start laughing.

  I decide I can’t afford another slip-up. No sense in being cheap. I’m just going to spend the rest of this money and let Rachael have her way.

  The girls help me pick out some things from Old Navy and Mad Rag. Some heeled boots, crushed velvet tops with the shoulders cut out, jeans ripped at the knee, a few bodysuits (suddenly I’m having Sports Day wedgie nightmares all over again), and skirts. The good thing is that most of the stuff they pick out for me is a reasonable price. When we’re done, I have thirty-one dollars to spare.

  By the time we get to the movies, our hands are full of bags and there are some other kids from McManus waiting around.

  We purchase tickets to see Midnight’s Curse. As Rachael promised, Bryan is there. So are some other seventh and eighth graders: Sebastian, Leslie, Megan, and Michael. We order popcorn, Twizzlers, and sodas and head to the theater.

  I bump into a familiar face walking out of theater number four — John.

  I don’t know why, but suddenly I feel my whole back fill with sweat. John is with his abuela and little brother. He says something to them and walks over to me. I tell Rachael and crew that I’ll meet them inside.

  “Hey, John. ¡Hola, Señora Lopez!” I wave at his grandmother, and she waves back.

  “Hey, yourself,” John says.

  We just kind of stand there staring at each other until John breaks the silence. “I see you’re racking up in the friends department.”

  “Oh, Rachael? Yeah, she invited me. You know, just trying to show some of that Welcome to McManus spirit outside of school, I guess.”

  John doesn’t look convinced. “Well, if you say so. Enjoy the movie. It was pretty epic.”

  Rachael peeks her head out the door to the theater and tells me to hurry it up.

  John turns and starts walking toward his family.

  “See you at school Monday!” I yell out.

  But John doesn’t even respond. He just throws up a peace sign and keeps walking.

  I make my way inside, and just then I get a text message.

  Mae: Hey, stranger. Long time no text. Or Snapchat. Or FaceTime.

  The houselights go out. There’s no time to text back. Rachael loudly whispers, “Over here, Annabelle! I saved you a seat. “

  She saves me a seat all right. Right next to Bryan. And his bright smile and his perfect haircut and his perfect smell.

  Woodsy, just like I thought.

  I plop into the chair, and the movie begins.

  Rachael nudges me in the side. “Aren’t you glad I saved you from nerd boy?”

  I look at her, confused. “What?”

  “Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about, girl. John is about as dorky as they come. Stick with me, kid. I’ll move you up the ranks in no time.”

  Ranks? I’m not sure how high I want to climb.

  31

  Rethinking

  Whoever invented bodysuits needs to be put on punishment. No, seriously. By fifth period, I’m so uncomfortable wearing this thing. Also, my feet hurt from the high-heeled booties Rachael picked out for me last Saturday. My mouth is dry from the matte lipstick she made me wear as we put our faces on in the bathroom before homeroom. And I’m pretty sure my hair has had enough of being fried every day just to stay straight.

  Clairna and John stop me in the hallway just as the lunch bell rings.

  “Are you going to come see us practice our band performance for the winter ball?” Clairna asks.

  I see Rachael, Natasha, and Lauren coming my way.

  “Sure thing, as soon as I’m done eating.”

  John and Clairna make their way to the gym, lunch bags in hand. I go to the cafeteria and shyly walk to the table Rachael has claimed as her rightful throne. Bryan is there. He smiles at me, but doesn’t say a word. I smile back.

  Rachael told me that Bryan wants to ask me to the dance. But other than a smile here or there, it’s like he doesn’t even know I exist. It doesn’t matter anyway because Dad would flip.

  “What are you guys wearing to the winter ball?” Natasha kicks off the conversation.

  “My favorite color, blue, of course,” Lauren says.

  Rachael says, “My mom is getting me a ball gown from Luxe in Woodbridge Mall.”

  I finally speak. “Sounds expensive.”

  “Four hundred dollars, if you call that expensive. How many times in our lives will we ever have a winter ball? Plus, you wouldn’t catch me dead in the same dress more than once.”

  I think on that for a second. Does that mean I have to go shopping for more clothes? What I purchased with the girls won’t last me through the winter at this rate! Maybe I can sneak back to the Second Chance store and find a dress for the winter ball.

  Twenty minutes go by of everyone sitting there talking about the dance, how “lit” they’re gonna look and how “lit” it’s going to be. The whole thing is giving my stomach a case of the heebie-jeebies. Aside from having to dress up, am I going to have to actually dance at this thing?

  I decide right then and there that I’m not going. And there’s nothing Mom or Dr. Varma can say to convince me otherwise.

  Just then, John and Clairna enter the cafeteria, and I can tell they’re looking for me. Yikes! I forgot to go to the gym to see them practice.

  John boldly walks to Rachael’s table. Clairna l
ags behind.

  Rachael stands up first. “Can I help you?”

  “I need to talk to Annabelle,” John says.

  Rachael turns to me as if to ask if that’s OK.

  “Since when do I need permission to talk to my friend?” John asks.

  Rachael sucks her teeth, but I jolt up and say, “It’s fine. I’m sorry, John, I forgot.”

  “Yeah, I bet. You’ve been forgetting about a lot of things lately. Like who your real friends are.”

  “I’m her friend too, nerd boy,” Rachael says.

  Everybody at the table starts laughing.

  I want to tell Rachael to stop, but my mouth doesn’t let me. Every single part of my face is frozen stiff.

  John stands there, waiting to see if I’ll do anything. And when I don’t, he shakes his head at me, like I’m the biggest disappointment in the world. He walks back to Clairna, and together they leave the cafeteria. I mouth “I’m sorry” at her, but she doesn’t even acknowledge me.

  Maybe John’s right. Maybe I need to rethink this whole friend thing.

  32

  Blending

  Things get weirder as the days go on. John, Clairna, and even Nav barely speak to me anymore. My new wardrobe isn’t comfortable at all. Like seriously, “cold shoulder” shirts are well… cool. Not in a good way! And to make things worse, I’m starting to notice that a lot of the girls at school dress the same. You can barely tell us apart.

  Is this really what I want? To be a little soldier in the fashion diva army? To hang out with girls who like to tease my friends?

  And for the first time, my inner Daphne and Annabelle become one: This might not be what you signed up for, girl!

  During science lab, Mr. Friedank pairs us up. In today’s experiment we’re using rubber bands to test the effects of potential and kinetic energy to help a toy vehicle move.

  “Annabelle, your partner will be John,” Mr. Friedank says.

  John lets out a long sigh and takes his place at the lab table next to me in the front of the class. Mr. Friedank gives further instructions and tells us to begin.

  I start gathering the materials we need: K’Nex pieces and varying sizes of rubber bands, but the whole time I don’t say anything to John.