by Diane Adams
Rose sat by herself in the very last seat on the school bus, studying her reflection in the window. If she turned her face to the left, she looked like ten-year-old Rose. If she turned it to the right, she looked like her grandma, the same grandma who had given her a home permanent the night before.
After squirting the stinky solution on the left side of Rose's head, Meemaw had been interrupted by a phone call. When she returned, she absentmindedly doused the left side again. As a result, half of Rose's dark hair hung as straight as a ruler, while the other half was as short and matted as sheep's wool. Naturally, this unusual hairdo had earned her a lot of unwanted attention at school.
Rose folded her hands and closed her eyes. Her lips started moving, but no sound came out of her mouth. "You say we don't get what we want because we don't ask, so I'm asking," she pleaded silently. "I need a friend."
Rose wasn't chatting with an imaginary person, as her classmates suspected. She was praying.
"I don't care who. It could be that girl who wears her brother's old T-shirts, or the one who brings salsa and chips for lunch. I'm not asking to be popular. I just want one person I can talk to. Meemaw is great, but please, could You find someone closer to my age?"
She paused for a moment, to decide if there was anything else she needed to mention. There was no point asking God to fix her hair, since everyone had already seen it. And she had already prayed for her mother, as soon as she woke up, before she even ate breakfast.
"Okay, that's all for now," she finished cheerily. "Thanks for listening."
Some children would be afraid to talk to God the way Rose did, but Rose had been taught to believe that God loved her, and that there was nothing she could ever do to cause God to stop loving her. She always spoke to Him with respect, because He was, after all, the Creator of the entire universe. But she wasn't afraid to ask for things, or to let Him know when she was feeling sad or impatient, or just plain mad.
When she opened her eyes, she realized that a number of her fellow students had turned backwards in their seats to stare at her. Nothing so irritates our enemies as showing them kindness, Meemaw had reminded her this morning. Rose forced a big smile, hoping it counted as kindness.
Nicole Macavity pointed at her and started laughing, and soon, all the other kids were laughing too. Nicole was the most popular girl in the whole school. She had blond hair and blue eyes and all the right clothes. Everyone, except Rose, wanted to be her best friend.
Nicole had started making fun of Rose the minute she began attending David City Public School. The first day, Rose had merely walked into the classroom, stowed her book bag under the desk, and sat down. She hadn't tripped or run into anything and she hadn't spoken one word to anyone.
"Why did they have to put her in our class?" Nicole had muttered, loud enough to be heard by everyone except the teacher. "Don't we have enough losers already?"
Rose had been surprised by Nicole's words - how could someone hate you before they had even met you? Rose pretended she hadn't heard. She was pleasant to Nicole, and to everyone else. She smiled all the time, she offered to help people with assignments and she even gave away a few of Meemaw's chocolate chip cookies.
But it was all for nothing. Every day, Nicole said mean things about Rose and all the other kids laughed. Rose knew they were scared not to laugh. If they didn't do what Nicole wanted them to do, she might start making fun of them too.
After weeks of tolerating Nicole's cruelty, Rose decided to fight back. One day, she marched up to Nicole in the cafeteria and asked why she was being so mean to someone who had never done one single, solitary unkind thing to her. Nicole sputtered and her face turned red while she tried to think of an answer.
Then Rose did something unforgivable - she giggled. She always giggled when she was nervous, but she couldn't explain that to Nicole Macavity. It was definitely the worst thing she could've done. She watched Nicole's eyes turn squinty and realized she had only made things worse.
The bus arrived at Rose's stop and she stood up and walked quickly down the aisle to the front. She pretended she didn't hear the other kids laughing and snorting.
"Hey, Rose," Nicole said in a syrupy voice. "We were just wondering - Are you a half-wit? Get it? Half-wit?"
Before Rose could even try to think of a clever answer, a large white insect dove through the bus window and burrowed into Nicole's blond curls.
Nicole shrieked and raised both hands to her head, thrashing her perfectly permed hair into a nest of tangles. Her book bag toppled to the floor as she jumped from her seat and began dancing in the aisle, screeching for help. "Get it out! Get it out!" she cried hysterically.
"Quiet down!" the bus driver yelled. He shifted the bus into Park, and turned around to see who was causing the ruckus. "What's your problem?" he demanded, rising and heading in Nicole's direction.
"There's a bug in my hair! A huge bug!" Nicole cried, her eyes wild with terror.
Rose felt a twinge of guilt for not offering to help. Love your enemies and they might become your friends, Meemaw often said. Rose didn't want to be friends with Nicole Macavity, even if she did wish Nicole would invite her to go bowling or ice skating someday. "No thanks," she would say. "I'd rather change a baby's diapers."
Rose watched as the bus driver studied Nicole's head, latching his hands behind his back.
"Get it out! Get it out!" Nicole shrieked.
"I don't see anything," the bus driver told her.
"Get it out or I'll tell my father!" Nicole warned him in an icy voice.
Fortunately, the bug chose that moment to emerge from Nicole's hair and sail off through the window again.
"Probably a ladybug," the bus driver said with disgust. "All that hoopla over a little ladybug."
As Rose hopped down the bus steps and skipped across the street, she could hear some of the other students laughing. And for once, she was pretty sure they weren't laughing at her.
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