Read My Forever Friends Online

Authors: Julie Bowe

My Forever Friends (12 page)

BOOK: My Forever Friends
4.72Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads
Brooke huffs. “It better not be what I think it is,” she says.
“It doesn't matter what you think,” Jenna replies. “We're not friends anymore.”
“Enough fighting,” Stacey cuts in. “I'm calling a truce.”
“You can't call a truce,” Brooke snaps at Stacey. “
I'm
in charge of this fight. Not you.”
Stacey narrows her eyes at Brooke. I don't see one speck of sparkle in them. She looks at Meeka and Jolene. “All in favor of calling a truce and doing a quilting bee at Ida's house, say ‘Aye.'”
“Aye,” Meeka and Jolene say together.
Stacey looks at Randi.
“Aye, aye, Captain.” Randi salutes. “I'll
bee
there.”
Stacey turns to Brooke. “Looks like a truce to me.”
Brooke narrows her eyes at Stacey. “Fine,” she says. “I'll allow
one
truce. But that's it.”
“
And
one quilting bee,” I say. “Tomorrow. At my house.”
“Buzz, buzz,” Randi says, nodding.
“We'll have to dress up,” Jenna tells us.
“Yep,” Randi puts in. “Yellow stripes and stingers. Wings optional.” She snorts.
“In
quilting
bee costumes, not
honey
bee,” Jenna replies. “Sundresses, aprons, bonnets . . .”
“Not tagboard bonnets,
pleeease,
” Meeka says, glancing up from her stitches.
Randi nods. “Skip the bonnets. Plus, I haven't worn a dress since kindergarten.”
“And aprons?” Jolene adds. “We barely have pot holders at my house.”
Jenna slams her sewing on her lap. “Am I the only one with
any
imagination around here? Dig through your mom's closet. Tie a towel around your waist. I don't care. Just put together a costume and meet here after school tomorrow. We'll
walk
to Ida's house. Pioneers didn't ride the bus.”
Jenna snatches up her stuff.
“Who made her queen of the hive?” Brooke grumbles as we watch Jenna march back into the school.
“Jenna would be queen of the world if we let her,” Stacey puts in.
“I know she can be a little bossy—” I start to say.
“A
little
bossy?” Brooke interrupts.
“—but she has lots of good ideas,” I continue. “And, besides, I think we should be extra nice to her right now. Because of her mom. And the baby. And everything.”
“Um, I don't remember Jenna Drews being extra nice to
me
when
my
mom sprained her wrist skiing last winter,” Brooke says. “I had to clean my and Jade's bathroom for a
month.
” She shudders. “Jade sheds like a cat. The shower drain was dis
gust
ing.”
“This is different,” I say. “Babies are bigger than shower drains.”
“How would you know?” Brooke snips. “Have you ever cleaned one? Do you even
have
any hairy sisters?”
“No,” I say. “But that doesn't mean I don't know the difference between what's a big deal and what's not.” I look across the puddle. “Right now Jenna is the biggest deal we've got. If she's our friend, then we should treat her like one.”
I grab my thread and scissors and stand up. “So we walk to my house tomorrow, like Jenna said?”
Everyone nods.
Brooke mumbles something I can't hear, but she nods too.
“I'll ask my mom if she's got any aprons we can borrow,” Stacey says as the bell rings. “She wears them when she works at the Purdee Good.”
“And I'll call my grandma,” Jolene adds. “She might have some old dresses.”
“My mom has tons of necklaces she never wears,” Brooke says. “I'll raid her jewelry box.”
I give Brooke a smile even though I don't think pioneer girls wore much jewelry.
But at least she's not fighting.
That's a big deal.
Chapter 12
After school the next day, we all walk to my house. “Slow down!” Rachel yells when we turn the corner to my block. “I can't walk as fast as you guys!”
“Then run,” Jenna says, glancing back at her sister. “If we don't hurry you'll be late for piano and Ida and I won't have time to . . . do something . . . after the quilting bee.”
Rachel runs a few steps and then dribbles to a stop. “Why couldn't we just ride the bus,” she grumbles.
“Because we're pioneers, Rachel,” Jenna says, stopping. She reties her ruffled apron. “They didn't have buses back then.”
“They had wagons,” Rachel whines. “And horses.”
Brooke takes off her floppy straw hat and fans her face. “If we don't get to Ida's house soon I'm going to have a serious
melt
down.” She wipes her forehead with the hem of her long flowery dress. “Pioneer clothes weren't meant to be worn over sweatshirts and jeans, Jenna.”
Jolene's grandmother gave us a bunch of old dresses and hats and aprons to wear for our quilting bee. Jenna made us put everything on over our regular clothes before we left school.
“We could carry Rachel,” Stacey says, straightening the fake diamond necklace she's wearing, compliments of Mrs. Morgan's jewelry box.
“Yeah, you could carry me,” Rachel says, perking up. “Like a papoose. I heard about them in a book.”
“A papoose was a baby, Rachel,” Jenna says. “Not a kindergartner. And they didn't belong to the pioneers. They belonged to the American Indians. So start walking.”
Randi shakes off her backpack. She sputters her lips and clomps her foot.
“Neighhhh!”
she says, crouching down and tossing her head like a horse. She glances at Rachel and sputters again.
Rachel smiles and hops on Randi's back. “Giddyup!” she cries.
Jenna frowns. “
I'm
her sister,” she grumbles as we watch Randi gallop down the sidewalk in her T-shirt and checkered skirt. “
I
should be the one to carry her.”
“You snooze, you lose,” Brooke says, plopping her hat back on her head. She prances after Randi and Rachel. So do Stacey, Meeka, and Jolene.
I pick up Randi's backpack and look at Jenna. “Come on,” I say, “or we'll only have time for a quilting
flea
.”
I tilt her a smile.
“And no time to show you what's in my woods,” Jenna replies, starting out again.
“Don't worry,” I say. “We'll get there. Eventually.”
We walk along and I point to the other girls. They've switched from galloping to frog hopping. “Look,” I say. “Everyone is friends again.”
“For now,” Jenna says. “But Brooke will have them choosing sides in no time. Guaranteed.”
“Not if no one plays along,” I reply.
Jenna smirks. “If they don't stick with her she'll just find someone else who will.”
 
 
My mom has a pitcher of lemonade and a plate of finger sandwiches waiting for us when we get to my house. The sandwiches aren't really made out of fingers. Peanut butter and jelly. Egg salad. Green olives and mild cheddar cheese. Small enough to pick up and pop into your mouth with hardly any crumbs falling on your lap.
We eat and then head upstairs. Jenna gets Stacey, Randi, Meeka, and Jolene organized in a circle on my bedroom floor. They talk and laugh and dig their sewing supplies out of their backpacks while Brooke takes a tour of my room. Fish tank. Bookshelf. Closet. Desk. It's all new to her because I've never invited her over before.
She picks up the noodle frame that's sitting on my desk. The one I made with Jenna and Rachel. “You should have used more wagon wheels,” she says to me, jiggling one of the rotini until it breaks off. “They stick better. And glitter glue would have
looked
better. Not to mention sequins.”
“Jenna told me to use wagon wheels too,” I reply, walking over to Brooke.
Brooke sniffs. “Only because I taught her. Believe me, I was making noodle frames before Jenna Drews even knew how to hold a glue stick.”
I think back to the last time I was in Brooke's room. A noodle frame was on her desk. Another one was on her dresser. A third on her bulletin board. Pictures of her and Jenna were in each one.
“Not much point in having a frame without a picture, though,” Brooke continues, leaning the frame against my mermaid night-light. “You must have at least
one
friend who would give you a picture. Don't you?”
“Jenna promised me one,” I say. “I just haven't gotten it yet.”
Brooke huffs. “Typical,” she says. “Jenna is an expert at making promises. Just don't count on her to keep them.”
“She's never broken a promise to me,” I say.
“Give her time,” Brooke replies.
She studies all the stuff that's scattered across my desk. Pencils. Markers. Half-drawn pictures. Books. Choco Chunk wrappers. “How can you live like this?” she asks, wrinkling her nose.
I shrug. “It's home.”
“It's dis
gust
ing.” She pokes at a misplaced baby tooth with my purple gel pen. I guess I forgot to put it under my pillow for the Tooth Fairy. “You need a professional organizer, Ida.
Me.
”
Brooke starts tossing wrappers into my nearly full wastebasket. She puts stray pencils back inside their jar. Then she blows dust off my lava lamp and slides markers into a drawer.
“You're supposed to be sewing,” Jenna tells us. “Not cleaning.”
“This is an emergency,” Brooke replies, using a sticky note to scoop up the baby tooth. “If I don't do it, the National Guard will have to step in.” She lets the tooth fall into the wastebasket.
The telephone rings downstairs.
“See?” Brooke says. “That's probably them calling now.”
“If we don't get our sewing done it's going to throw off my whole afternoon schedule,” Jenna replies.
“A
quarantine
will throw off your whole
week,
Jenna,” Brooke says back. “Is that what you want? To be stuck here? With all of us? Maybe forever?”
Everyone stops talking. They look at Jenna.
“Not if forever includes
you,
” Jenna replies.
“Ditto, plus an eternity, for
me,
” Brooke snips back.
She tosses a stubby pencil at my wastebasket. It bounces off and rolls across the floor.
Jenna picks it up.
“Don't strain yourself,” Brooke says.
“Don't mention it,” Jenna says back, tossing the pencil aside.
Randi sighs. “Here we go again. Just when everyone was starting to get along.”
“I wasn't starting to get along,” Brooke says. “I'm only here because everyone turned against me.”
Jenna huffs. “Turned against
you
? They turned against me ages ago.”
“We didn't turn against either of you,” Stacey puts in. “We just don't want to
bow down
to you.” She studies Brooke and Jenna for a moment. “You two aren't in charge of us. We're in charge of each other.”
Meeka and Jolene nod.
So does Randi.
So do I.
Brooke crosses her arms.
Jenna turns away.
There's a knock on my door.
Mom looks in.
Right away I know something is wrong. Really wrong. Her eyes are too round and her mouth is too straight and her jaw is too square. Like she's wearing a mask of her face instead of the real one.
“Jenna,” Mom says, stepping into the room. “That was your dad on the phone.”
Rachel squeezes past Mom and flies to Jenna. She hugs her tight, mumbling against her shoulder. “Everything will be okay, won't it, Jen? Everything will be all right, just like you said.”
Jenna holds Rachel awkwardly, like she's a bag of broken glass. She blinks at my mom. “What's wrong?”
Mom sits on my bed. “Your dad was calling from the hospital.”
Jenna pushes Rachel away and stands up. “Where's my mom?” she demands.
“She's at the hospital too.” Mom pulls Rachel onto her lap. “She's fine. Your mom is totally fine.”
“What about my baby?” Rachel asks, looking up at Mom.
Mom gives Rachel a stiff smile. “He . . . was born . . . a little . . . early,” she says slowly, like she's using tweezers to pick her words. “But the doctors are working very hard to make sure he'll be okay.”
“He?” Jenna says. “It's a boy?”
Mom gives Jenna a real smile this time. She nods. “You have a little brother.”
“Yippee!” Rachel bounces on Mom's lap. “I wished and wished for one!” She beams at Jenna. “Didn't you, Jen? Didn't you wish for that too?”
Jenna looks away.
I think about her wish. That the baby would never be born.
“He'll be okay,” Jenna mumbles. “The baby. He'll be all right.”
Mom reaches over and squeezes Jenna's arm. “Everyone is wishing for that now.”
Rachel turns to Mom again. “What's my brother's name?”
“I forgot to ask,” Mom replies. “But we'll find out as soon as we get to the hospital. I'm taking you there now.” She looks at the other girls. “Sorry, but you'll have to finish your quilting bee another day.”
Rachel runs to put on her shoes.
Mom follows along.
Jenna unties her ruffled apron and lets it fall to the floor. Then she sits down on my bed. She pulls George onto her lap and twists his tail around her fingers.
I sit next to Jenna.
Everyone huddles in.
BOOK: My Forever Friends
4.72Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Captive by L. J. Smith
More Than Friends by Beverly Farr
Return to You by Samantha Chase
Five Ways to Fall by K. A. Tucker
Hear Me by Viv Daniels
Cheat the Grave by Vicki Pettersson
Sleight Malice by Vicki Tyley