Best Frenemies (7 page)

“Oh my goodness.” Cassidy leaned over the table and joined in the conversation. “Does that girl have
any
friends?”

“
And
she's doing homework during lunch?” said Xia. “That means she's too nerdy even for the Nerd Herd!”

“Hey!” Christy said, raising a warning finger but smiling. “You know how it's okay if I talk smack about my mom but you're not allowed to? Only members of the Nerd Herd may make fun of Nerd Herders.”

“I almost . . .
almost
. . . feel kind of bad for her,” Alice admitted. It'd be one thing if Nikki was mean
and
popular, but she couldn't help wondering if Nikki would be different if she had some friends—or just one friend, even.

“Even after she was so nasty during class today?” Christy said.

Alice shrugged. “Maybe there's a reason why she's the way she is?”

“Well,” Christy said. “I was talking to Aaron—they went to elementary school together but she didn't arrive until fourth grade. He said that she's always kept to herself, even after she'd been there for a whole year. It's like she doesn't want to make friends or something.”

“That
is
kind of sad,” admitted Cassidy. “Although I don't know if it's sad-sad or, like, pitiful-sad.”

“I kinda think that if she's going to be rude, she gets what she deserves,” said Christy. Alice shrugged. “But maybe you're right. You're a nicer person than I am, Alice.” She grinned at Alice's table and skipped back to her seat. “See you, ladies!” Alice saw Aaron looking over at her table and offered him a wave. She sort of wished she was sitting over there, with the rest of the Herd, just to hear what they were talking about.

“Oh, you guys,” Cassidy said. “I almost forgot to tell
you about this crazy old book of my mom's she showed me. It's called
Color Me Beautiful
and it says that each woman's complexion matches a season and she should dress like that season. Like I'm a winter and so I look good in, like, blue and silver and white.”

“You look good in everything, girl!” said Xia.

“I mean, obviously,” Cassidy said, holding up her hand like a pocket mirror and admiring herself in it. “Anyway, I want to bring it to lunch tomorrow because a) the outfits are hilarious—I mean, like,
skorts
, and also b) it could be fun to see what seasons we are. Alice, I'm thinking you're kind of a late summer. Evie, maybe for you, spring.”

“Ooh, that's my favorite season!” squealed Evie.

The girls babbled about Cassidy's discovery, debating which seasons they would be and what colors they were destined to wear. Alice couldn't help but think about Nikki sitting out all by herself in the courtyard. Alice's friends and the Nerd Herd were both so easy to talk to and fun—why did Nikki separate herself?

Maybe Nikki had a reason for staying away. Maybe she was just smart about getting her work done. Alice had to admit to herself,
I should probably go out there and catch up on my reading too.

Maybe Nikki's onto something.

“We had such a fun discussion in class today,” Alice bubbled to Cassidy on the bus ride home a few days later. After the first rough few days of
Dolphins
, the class had gotten back into the groove and discussion had picked up, and they finished the assignment without incident (or pop quiz). Mr. Nichols's class had been especially enjoyable lately, the Nerd Herd was gelling nicely, and for once, Nikki Wilcox seemed to be keeping her mean comments to herself. The sun was out and the air was crisp and cool—but not cold yet—and Alice felt invigorated.

“Hmm. ‘Fun' and ‘class' are not words that should go together,” Cassidy joked. “Unless it's opposite day. Or I have been misled this entire time about what ‘fun' actually is.”

Alice smiled sympathetically. In Cassidy's latest
notebook entry, she had lamented that she wasn't doing so great in French class.

You know what would make French easier? If there were only one tense. Just live in the present! Viva la moment! Anyway, if I don't get my grades up my mom said she's going to make David start tutoring me, which makes me want to le vomit.

But Alice couldn't help herself. “Today we talked about what books we'd bury in a time capsule for future generations,” she said.

“Aren't books just books?” Cassidy said. “Aren't they going to be there whether or not we'd put them in a time capsule? Isn't that what libraries are for?”

“No . . . you don't—” Alice was about to say, “You don't get it,” but she caught herself. “The point was just to see what books we'd put in to illustrate what's important to us now.”

“Oh,” said Cassidy, looking out the window at the gray lake. “I guess that's cool.”

“Also,” Alice said. “I forgot to tell you but last week we got this assignment where we got to retell a famous children's book in our words. And I talked about
The
Giving Tree
!”
The Giving Tree
had been one of her and Cassidy's favorite books when they were little, although Alice had a hard time reading it now because it made her sad. So in her version, she wrote it so that the tree was actually a human mom who gave everything she had to her kids but without all that depressing letting-herself-be-cut-down stuff.

“Huh!” Cassidy said, not turning her head away from the window.

“Is everything okay?” Alice asked. “I guess this stuff is pretty boring.”

“No, sorry,” Cassidy said, looking back at Alice and smiling with her lips together. “I'm glad you're having a good time in school. I'm just upset about this French thing. It spoiled my whole day.”

“I know what you mean,” Alice said, remembering a few weeks ago when just the thought of having to read
Island of the Blue Dolphins
had ruined her night. She had learned her lesson: it just wasn't worth not getting her work done first, especially if the knowledge that she had work to do lurked over her time with Cassidy.

The bus pulled up to the girls' street, and they started walking down towards their houses, kicking at the leaves that were scattered on the sidewalk.

“You know what we might need,” Cassidy said. “Mini
dance party?” Whenever the girls were feeling low or just needed to burn some energy, they turned the lights off in one of their rooms and danced as hard and as dumb and as wild as they could, to exactly four songs: two that Alice chose, and two that Cassidy chose. It was the one time Alice didn't feel self-conscious about dancing.

“I really want to,” Alice said. “Really. But I can't. I've just got too much homework. Mr. Nichols gave us a new book.”

“Mr. Nichols is really cramping our style,” Cassidy said, frowning. “I mean, doesn't he understand that we need our BFF time?”

Alice sighed. “I know. I promise this won't last forever. It's been a busy week.”

“True,” Cassidy said, and picked up a perfect red leaf from the sidewalk. “It's just that this is the third day in a row that you haven't been able to hang out after school. And you used to be able to come over all the time.”

“I hate it,” Alice said, feeling like she wanted to cry. They were standing next to the planters on the street, which were temporarily empty. Mrs. Turner was still debating what she'd fill them with for the colder months of fall. “But I just don't know what I can do about it. The
last time I didn't get to finish my work on time, I got in trouble in class, you know? Besides, isn't that what the notebook is for? So we can stay in touch?”

“Well, I hope you still have time to write in it,” Cassidy teased her. “I hope you don't get too busy for it!”

“Can we just pretend like the notebook is the same as our walkie-talkies?” Alice asked. When they were little and Alice would cry when it was time for her to go home to her parents' house after spending time at Cassidy's, her dad gave her a gray plastic toy walkie-talkie set so the two could talk to each other from each other's houses, even at bedtime. They barely worked; the toys were too flimsy to get much reception and the houses were too far apart. But sometimes Alice would be able to hear Cassidy's voice through the static, and even if she couldn't understand her, it brought her comfort at night knowing her best friend wasn't far away.

Cassidy gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and the girls separated, heading towards their own houses. As Alice walked up the driveway, she started feeling mad instead of sad. It wasn't
fair
. Why did she have to be separated from the one person who totally knew how to make her feel better whenever she was down?

“Hey, what's going on?” Alice's mom asked after her
daughter entered the kitchen and angrily threw her backpack and jean jacket on the window seat. To make matters worse, the scent of fish permeated the kitchen. Mrs. Kinney was baking salmon, which Alice hated.

“I hate being in honors classes!” Alice said.

“But you were so excited about the assignments and discussions you were having in Mr. Nichols's class,” Mrs. Kinney said, wiping her hands on her jeans.

“I'm sick of talking about Mr. Nichols!” Alice nearly yelled.

“Whoa,” said Mrs. Kinney. “Sit down. Let's talk.” She poured each of them a glass of sparkling water and fixed a lime wedge on the side, neither of which Alice really wanted, but the gesture seemed nice and the clear blue glass looked pretty with all the bubbles fizzing to the top, so she took it without complaining. They sat at the worn wooden table in the breakfast area, where hanging lighting fixtures gave the kitchen a warm feel.

“Cassidy was having a bad day and wanted to hang out after school, but I told her I had to go home to do work today. It just made me sad,” Alice confessed, telling her mom all the details.

“I understand you want to see your friend, but I think that Cassidy should understand your time
commitments,” her mom said gently. “It's not like you get mad at her when she goes to ballet class, right? You guys find time to talk and see each other.”

“Right,” Alice said. “I just don't want her to think I'm blowing her off.”

“You're not blowing her off,” her mom said. “You just have to prioritize some things sometimes. You still see her at school, and on the bus, right? And you'll have your time back together soon. But until then, you can't be expected to do a poor job on your work just so you can see each other more than you already do.”

Alice felt sad. She had homework to do, she couldn't be there for her best friend on a hard day, it didn't seem like there was anything she could do about it,
and
they were having fish for dinner.

“Do you . . . do you think it's possible that there's a little tension there because you made it into honors classes and Cassidy didn't?” Mrs. Kinney asked after taking a sip of water. She was clearly trying to choose her words delicately.

“Cass isn't stupid,” Alice said angrily.

“That's not what I said at all,” said Mrs. Kinney.

“You clearly want me to stop being friends with Cassidy and just be friends with dorky honors-class kids!” Alice stood up and pushed her chair away. Deep
down she knew that her mom didn't mean that at all, but she felt like being mad about
something
.

“Alice,” her mom said in a warning tone, but before they could talk more, Alice grabbed her backpack and stormed up to her room, slamming the door. She stood in her darkening room for a moment, not sure what to do now. Homework? Ugh.

Alice booted up her computer, telling herself that she was going to get to work on the study questions Mr. Nichols had given them for their new book,
Animal Farm
. But first she logged onto IM, just for a second, anyway. Cassidy was online, and Alice couldn't resist the urge to talk to her best friend when she was feeling down.

AISFORALICE:
Hey there. I just got into a fight with my mom ☹ Bummed about that and not being able to see each other. AND we're having fish for dinner tonight :P

BALLETCASS:
That stinks! In more ways than 1.

AISFORALICE:
Yeah . . . I wish we were hanging out right now. I hope things get easier soon with homework so we can see each other more!

BALLETCASS:
Totally.

AISFORALICE:
Sorry you had a bad day. Hugs.

BALLETCASS:
Hugs back at you. Sounds like you ended up having a hard day too.

AISFORALICE:
Yeah, maybe it just needs to be tomorrow.

BALLETCASS:
Okay, I can't believe I'm saying this but you should get to ur hw.

AISFORALICE:
I guess. You're a good friend.

BALLETCASS:
I know ;) See you tomorrow.

Alice signed out, sighed, then pulled her pillow onto the floor so she could get started on the reading for class. The smell of fish wafted up from the kitchen, and she wished she had one of Mrs. Turner's forbidden incense sticks to keep the smell out of her room. Putting off her reading for just a few more minutes, she pulled the notebook out of her bag and flipped through it. To her dismay, she realized that neither she nor Cassidy had written in it for a couple of days. This would be an excellent time to write, but what did Alice have to report?
Breaking news: Homework is the worst. Salmon is the second worst.

But that wouldn't make for a good entry. The notebook would just have to go blank another day until Alice could think of something interesting or new to say.

She sighed and flopped on her back on her bed. Up until this point, she had been able to balance her friendship with Cassidy and her schoolwork. What if it turned out that she had to pick one?

A week later, Alice woke up feeling out of sorts, and it wasn't just the low gray sky that was getting her down. Alice had convinced herself that she'd figure out a way to see Cassidy more despite homework getting tougher, but things didn't seem to be quite working out. The day before, they had ridden the bus together and were poring over a silly celebrity gossip magazine that Tess had “borrowed” (without asking) from her older sister. The girls' favorite was the “What Were They Thinking?” section, which featured celebrities wearing highly questionable outlets.

“Oh my goodness!” laughed Tess, tapping a pink sparkly finger at a photo of an actress prancing down the sidewalk in an outfit that could only be described as pink-sequined shorteralls: overalls, but with shorts. “Cass, isn't that the
exact
same thing you tried on at the mall yesterday?”

“Well, first of all, when I tried it on, it was clearly a joke,” sad Cass. “And second, you know I looked amazing in it!”

“You kind of did,” said Tess. “I don't know what your secret is.”

“I'm a witch!” said Cassidy, waving her fingers in the air in a somewhat witchlike motion.

“What are you guys talking about?” Alice asked, trying not to sound the way she felt, which was, specifically, five miles behind this whole conversation.

“Oh, Cass and a couple other kids from our homeroom and I went to the mall yesterday after school,” said Tess.

“We were just goofing around, no big deal,” added Cassidy.

“Sounds fun,” Alice said, trying to smile like it didn't bother her. She and Cass used to love to go the mall and find a million stupid things to laugh about. Sometimes they had a contest where they could see how much stuff they could buy for ten dollars. If you went to the right store, you could get like seven pieces of jewelry! Admittedly, they were the kind that turned your ears green, but that wasn't the point.

“Oh, girl,” Cassidy said, laying her head on Alice's shoulder. “I'm sorry. I hope you don't feel left out. It was
just a spur-of-the-moment thing, and I assumed you had too much homework to do.”

“It's true.” Alice sighed. “I did.” But still, it would have been nice to be asked. She and Cassidy hadn't been to the mall together since the summer, before school started, and she wondered when they'd go again. An uncomfortable little sensation had started gnawing in her stomach that there was something not quite right with their friendship. They weren't in a fight, but they weren't in sync the way they usually were.

To make matters worse, Alice hadn't had a spare second to write in the notebook in the last couple of days. She'd leave it as a “treat” for the end of the night, but then she was always too tired to think of anything clever to write. She worried that the friendship was like the notebook: if she took too much time away from it, it would be forgotten.

In the meantime, classes were starting to kick Alice's butt, which was a new feeling to her. First, they were studying the makeup of cells in biology, and there were way more things to remember than Alice was used to. What the heck was the difference between mitochondria and a Golgi apparatus? She worried she'd never get it straight. Meanwhile, Mr. Nichols had assigned
Animal Farm
to the class, a book about talking
animals that was way freakier than a book about talking animals
should
be. Even worse, the students' assignment was to look up the Russian Revolution and write a paper comparing the different animals to what happened in Russia.

“But we haven't even
studied
the Russian Revolution yet!” Aaron Woolsey cried out, not even bothering to raise his hand. “How are we supposed to know anything about it?”

Mr. Nichols smiled and went to the board, writing the letters
L-I-U
on the chalkboard.

“Liu? Who was that, like, one of the fighters in the revolution?” Christy Gillespie asked.

Mr. Nichols smiled again, seeming to relish what he was about to impart upon them. “
L-I-U
stands for ‘look it up' and is something you should get used to doing in my class.” The Nerd Herd groaned. “And a word of caution before you head right to Wikipedia. You can't trust everything you read on the internet. You never know when a teacher with too much time on his hands might go online and start filling in some fun fake historical facts. So go to the library. Your parents might be able to explain to you what an encyclopedia is, if you've never heard of one.”

“Whoa,” Mr. Kinney had said, eyebrows up, when Alice complained about the assignment to him over meat loaf and mashed potatoes. “That's hardcore.”

“Don't say ‘hardcore,'” Alice said. “It makes you sound weird.”

“Pardon me,” Mr. Kinney said. “What I meant to say is ‘That sounds like a tough assignment.' Is it okay if I say that?”

Alice rolled her eyes, even though she wasn't really mad at her dad. She just felt out of her element. She wasn't used to feeling challenged like this, like she might actually
not do well
on this assignment. That was practically unheard-of.

To try and get a grip, Alice took the early bus to school to get a little bit more reading and research done before class began. She wouldn't want to do it all the time, but it was kind of nice to be on the quiet bus, with only a few students heading in early for sports practice or extra help. Despite the gloomy weather, a morning of reading might actually be okay.

However, when she got to homeroom early, she was surprised to discover that she didn't have the room to herself, like she expected. Nikki Wilcox sat at her desk with her head on her arms. Her long black curls covered her face, but based on the way her shoulders
were shaking, it looked like she was . . . crying?

Part of Alice instinctively wanted to ask Nikki if everything was okay.
Force field!
she remembered. What if Nikki bit her head off? It was probably best just to leave her alone. But before Alice could silently back out of the room, Nikki lifted her head to blow her nose.

“Oh,” Nikki said, looking at Alice blankly. “Sorry.” Her eyes were puffy and her normally porcelain-fair skin was flushed and blotchy.

“Sorry for what?” Alice asked, taking a hesitant step towards Nikki, who was now gathering her long hair in a ponytail in her hand and fanning the back of her neck with it.

“Um, I don't know,” Nikki said. “For being weird? Just ignore me.” Her flat voice, paired with the stuffiness in her nose, made her sound miserable.

“Is . . . everything okay?” Alice asked, despite Nikki asking her to ignore her.

Nikki sighed. “It's fine. It's just . . . I'm having a hard time with math right now.”

“You?”
Alice asked incredulously. She couldn't believe Miss Perfect could have a hard time with anything, let alone admit to such a thing. Nikki's face crumpled.

“Not everyone is as naturally good at math as you
are, Alice,” she sniffled. “I'm sorry if that's hard for you to believe.”

“No, no, that's not what I meant,” Alice said. This is what she got for trying to be nice. But instead of scowling and looking away, Nikki kept her dark brown eyes on her. “It's just that . . .” Alice tried to think of a diplomatic way of saying, “You act like you know better than us all the time—that was a mask?”

“You seem so confident all the time.”

“Ha,” Nikki said bitterly. “Yeah, well, I definitely am not.”

Alice sat down at a nearby desk, unsure how to proceed. She sighed, thinking of her mom, who always tried to see the best in everyone, and decided to shut off the force field momentarily

“What part of the math homework is giving you a hard time?”

Nikki sighed. “I just have no idea how to keep track of all these stupid shapes! Triangles, parallelograms, trapezoids, cubes—volume, circumference, surface area. They all just swim past my eyes and I freak out and feel so overwhelmed. I am
definitely
going to bomb the next test, and I'm never going to hear the end of it from my parents.”

Alice couldn't believe it. She had never for a second
thought that Nikki would have ever had any problems with the schoolwork. Nikki never asked questions in class, and since she stayed to herself, Alice had never heard her talk about being worried with the other students. For that matter, Alice couldn't even imagine Nikki having parents. Alice had always just sort of envisioned her staying on the bus all night, not even sleeping but just curling up in her seat at the end of the day and powering down.

“I'm having a hard time too,” Alice admitted. “This
Animal Farm
assignment is freaking me out.”

“What are you talking about?” Nikki asked, in fake shock. “L-I-U, Alice. Just L-I-U!”

Alice laughed. Who knew Nikki Wilcox had a sense of humor?

“So what's your secret for knowing all that math stuff?” Nikki asked.

“I just have weirdly good memorization skills, I guess,” Alice said. “A couple little tricks. It's kind of like a game.”

“A lame game,” Nikki said.

Oh,
Alice thought.
There's Negative Nikki again.
But then Nikki surprised her. “Maybe . . . maybe sometime you could show me some of those tricks?”

“Sure,” Alice said, surprised.
Wait, did I just agree to
potentially, voluntarily, hang out with Nikki Wilcox?

The homeroom began to fill up with the rest of the class and Ms. Garrity began the announcements. Alice kicked herself for wasting the effort of waking up and coming in early, only to get no work done on the
Animal Farm
assignment. But she felt better, though, talking to Nikki, knowing that she wasn't the only one having a tough time with honors work. Idly, Alice's gaze wandered over to her. Nikki scowled at something she was writing in her notebook. She flipped her pencil around, erased furiously, and glared again, blowing an errant curl away from her face. She glanced up, saw Alice, and gave a tiny smile.

Are there two sides to Nikki Wilcox?
Alice pondered.
Maybe even more
? The tough, superior-seeming girl was possibly disguising a softer side. Alice wondered what else she didn't know about her.

Just wait till I tell Cassidy!
Alice thought, pulling out the notebook, grateful to finally have some news to report. But as she flipped open to a blank page, she stopped, her pen hovering over the page. Nikki was struggling just like she was, and she had confided in Alice when she didn't have to. Maybe it wouldn't be the nicest thing in the world to blab to Cassidy about it. Alice wouldn't like Nikki telling
her
friends (if she had
any) about the fact that she was having a hard time with the reading. Plus, anyway, there were only a few minutes left in homeroom, Alice reasoned. She didn't have time to write the whole story out. Maybe later.

The bell toned for class change. Maybe Mr. Nichols would give them some sort of hint today that might make the assignment easier. Alice's thoughts drifted back to Nikki. She wondered if it would be easier to keep Nikki's struggles a secret for now, because Cassidy might say something like “Wait, I don't understand. First Nikki's the biggest pain in your life—now you feel sorry for her and are offering her help?” It might just be too confusing.

As the classes switched rooms, Cassidy ran up to Alice. “Hey! It was weird not riding the bus with you. Did you get your reading done eventually?”

“Uh . . . yeah!” Alice said, deciding it would be awkward to say that she didn't without explaining why.

“Cool. Well, you're not the only overachiever on the street. I'm going to get some help with French during lunch, so I won't get to see you. I'll write you, okay?”

“I haven't had the chance to write yet,” Alice confessed, handing Cassidy the notebook.

“No worries. You've been busy!” Cassidy disappeared into her next class. But once the day was over,
Alice didn't get the chance to get the notebook back and see what—if anything—Cassidy had written her. After ten minutes of craning her head, looking for Cassidy's smiling face to appear between the bus aisles, the doors shut, ferrying Alice back to her street—alone.

Why didn't she tell me she wasn't taking the bus home today?
Alice wondered.
Maybe she was mad at me for not riding with her this morning. Maybe she had a doctor's appointment. Maybe she somehow knew I was talking to Nikki
.

But that last part was silly. Right?