Best Friends Forever Page 2

  “Poor Amy, having to start in a totally new school without knowing anyone at all,” Katie said. “I wish I could go with her to her first day of school.”

  “Yes. She’s going to have to work at making some new friends, just like you are,” her mom said. “You’re both going to have to be brave, that first day.”

  But Katie wasn’t really listening because her phone, which was in her shorts pocket, had started to vibrate. Yay—a text from Amy!

  HEY K—I LOVE MY BACON & EGGS. MISS U SO MUCH CANT WAIT 2 C U IN 6 WKS! WE R GETTING ON PLANE NOW, UP, UP & AWAY —BFF

  Katie shot back:

  A, WAVE DOWN TO ME WHEN YOU TAKE OFF. I JUST CRIED ALL OVER ZAPPERS! I MISS U SO MUCH ALREADY!—BFF

  Almost immediately, Amy replied:

  “YES, SANTA, WE ARE.”—BFF

  Katie didn’t know you could laugh and cry at the same time, but that’s what she did.

  School started on a Wednesday. The fact that it was already midway through the week made it a little easier to face. The other thing that made it somewhat bearable was the fact that Amy would be back for Katie’s birthday in six weeks. Washing her hands and face the morning of the first day, Katie was pleasantly distracted by her fingernails. Having Amy’s miniature masterpieces on her hands seemed to give Katie a secret power, the courage to make it through the day.

  Sometimes she would stare at one nail until she got lost in it and its matching memory. For example, the waves and water on her pinky finger looked so much like a three-dimensional wave. Katie would remember days at the beach with Amy, playing in the waves, staying there all day, till the late afternoon summer sun started getting lower in the sky.

  Or she would look at the ladybugs, which for some reason were the only bugs she and Amy ever found in their houses that summer. “I guess if we’re going to be infested, it’s nice that it’s with ladybugs,” her mom had joked with Amy’s dad. “Katie loves them; she wouldn’t dream of us spraying to get rid of them.”

  Katie had been careful over the last week to keep her manicure perfect, and she didn’t have one chip. Amy had told her last night over the phone that the same was true for her.

  Katie had heard how different seventh grade was from sixth grade. It was in a different building from sixth grade. But the main difference, besides Amy not being there, seemed to be that the kids had lockers and a schedule that had them hopping from class to class all day. There was also homeroom, which met for about fifteen minutes first thing in the morning. Katie was assigned to Mr. Armstrong’s homeroom, along with ten other kids. Mr. Armstrong was young and funny and seemed to really like his job. He asked them to move their chairs into a circle. There was a new girl, who he introduced.

  “Welcome to seventh grade, everyone,” he said. “This year we have a newcomer to Westbrook and to our school, so let’s introduce ourselves to her. Everyone, this is Whitney Van Lowe, and she’s just moved here from Wisconsin. Okay, let’s go around the circle. Everyone say your name and one fun thing you did this summer.”

  This summer I said good-bye to my best friend, and it wasn’t fun at all, Katie thought, but by the time it was her turn she’d thought of something normal to say.

  “I went on a hot-air balloon ride with Amy on her birthday,” she said.

  “Wow,” Mr. Armstrong said. “Has anyone else ever been in a hot-air balloon?” No one had.

  “And who’s Amy?” Mr. Armstrong said.

  Katie took a deep breath. “She’s my best friend,” she said. “She just moved. To California.”

  “I see,” said Mr. Armstrong. “Okay, Ben, your turn.”

  “I went on a canoe trip at camp,” Ben said. “And I ate a raw hot dog and didn’t get sick.” Everyone laughed.

  “Congratulations, Ben,” said Mr. Armstrong. “Whitney?”

  It was Whitney’s turn. She kept her head down, looking at her lap, but didn’t say anything. There was an uncomfortable silence, during which Katie thought that Whitney must be very shy or supernervous to speak. But Whitney just didn’t seem to realize it was her turn. At last Mr. Armstrong said, “And how about you, Whitney? What was one fun thing you did this summer? Besides move to Westbrook, of course.” He laughed at his own joke.

  Once Whitney finally looked up, Katie realized how pretty the new girl was. She had very pale skin, black hair cut really short, in what Katie knew was called a “pixie cut” because her aunt Lindsay had the same haircut, and very light blue eyes.

  “I got a new doll,” Whitney said quietly.

  Mr. Armstrong paused. He smiled and nodded in a way that let the group know not to snicker. Katie figured most of the girls in seventh grade would say they were too old for dolls. If they did still have dolls, they certainly wouldn’t announce that getting a doll was a fun thing they did over the summer. Then Mr. Armstrong said, “Great. Okay, Brendan, your turn.” And on it went.

  Rachel and Emma were also in the homeroom, and they had barely looked up as Whitney was talking. Katie and Amy had hung out with Rachel and Emma in fifth and sixth grade, even having a few sleepovers. Rachel and Emma were best friends too. But they had barely spoken to her this morning. Rachel seemed to be pouting about something, and Emma was preoccupied with her notebook.

  “Hey, you guys!” Katie had said when they entered the room. They both smiled, and Rachel said, “Hey. Have you heard from Amy? She hasn’t returned my e-mail.” She sounded annoyed.

  “Um, yeah,” Katie said, not sure how to respond. “She’s doing okay. They’re in their new place, but the movers still haven’t come, so she’s sleeping on a blow-up mattress and living out of her suitcase!” Katie thought that was an interesting detail to share with them, but Emma rolled her eyes. What’s up with that? Katie thought.

  She spent her free period writing a letter to Amy.

  A, hey! Hey, A! Ha-ha. It's not even lunchtime and the first day is feeling loooong. I bet you are on your way to your first day now. I can never remember what the time difference is, but I think it is three hours earlier where you are, right? I hope your day goes okay. I miss you so much, it is SO WEIRD here without you. Rachel and Emma are being kind of cold, too. You know what I was thinking about Harvest Fair? I was thinking that this year should be the year we go into the fun house (or haunted house, whatever it is called). I don't think it's that scary, I mean I heard it's not that scary. What do you think? We are in seventh grade, after all, and how bad can it be if we do it together? I promise not to dig my fingernails into your arm like I did when we got so freaked out last Halloween. Speaking of which, you know what? My fingernails are still perfect, and I think the watermelon is my favorite. I miss, miss, miss, miss, miss you. I wrote it five times so you know I mean it. Oh well, it is time for lunch. Where am I going to sit? You are probably eating breakfast now. Don't eat your fingernails! Get it? Or your waffle toes, either. Ick.

  Love, K (BFF)

  The time Katie had spent writing the letter was the most “herself” she had felt all day. It was as if the rest of the day, she was onstage in a play, and writing to Amy, she was backstage relaxing.

  Before lunch, though, the day took a turn for the worse. Everyone had assigned lockers, and Mr. Armstrong had given out the combinations and demonstrated how to work the locks. Katie’s combination was 16, 7, 9. You turned a little dial three times, switching direction each time, and the locker would open. Great, except that it just didn’t work. Katie tried again and again, each time feeling more and more flustered. She looked up to see Whitney staring at her.

  “I’m really good at these,” Whitney told her. She spoke softly and evenly. “Do you want me to try?”

  Now Katie was even more embarrassed. The new girl was offering to help—wasn’t it supposed to be the new girl who had locker trouble? But her gratitude soon outweighed her embarrassment, and Katie stepped aside.

  “Yes, please! Sixteen, seven, nine!” She smiled, trying to seem cool about it. She let Whitney go to work, not even thinking she should watch and learn for next
time.

  Then Katie saw it. She’d chipped her index fingernail on the lock. The ladybug’s head was gone.

  “What’s the matter?” Whitney asked, seeming not quite as shy as before.

  “Oh, it’s okay. I just broke my nail,” Katie said. Suddenly her nails felt very private, but Whitney was moving in for a look.

  “Oh, how pretty,” Whitney exclaimed, looking carefully at each one. “Sorry about your ladybug.”

  “Thanks,” Katie said. “Well, thanks for helping me. And welcome to our school.” She gave a little wave and started walking away, but Whitney said, “Can you show me to the cafeteria?” She seemed shy and nervous again.

  “Sure,” Katie said. It seemed like the right thing to do. They walked together in silence, and Katie realized that Whitney might want to sit down and eat with her. At first she felt anxious about this, but then she realized that she didn’t want to sit with Rachel and Emma the way she’d assumed she would. And she wasn’t sure they wanted to sit with her, either, though she had no idea why.

  Whitney must be anxious too, Katie thought. Just like Amy is today. Just like me.

  “Why don’t you sit with me?” Katie heard herself ask. Whitney broke into a grin and nodded gratefully. As they sat and ate, Katie was surprised by how comfortable she felt. Whitney was actually pretty chatty. She asked Katie lots of questions about herself and her family, and listened carefully to the answers. Had she lived here her whole life? Did she get good grades? What did her parents do? How long had she and Amy lived next door to each other? How was she doing since Amy had moved away?

  “I move a lot,” Whitney said. “So I understand how hard it is. I get used to being the new kid, but since it’s Amy’s first time, it can’t be easy.”

  Katie felt touched by Whitney’s sensitivity. She knew she should say something nice in return.

  “But you must get pretty tired of being new.”

  “Yeah,” said Whitney. “But I learn to make friends. And now I have friends from all over the world. Hey, I know we just met, but why don’t you come over on Saturday? My room is finally set up. You could even sleep over!”

  A sleepover with a total stranger? That’s a little fast, no? Katie thought. But she heard her mom’s voice in her head saying she would have to push herself a little to make new friends. And she knew it was true. Well, maybe it would happen more easily than she’d thought. Here was Whitney, who seemed really nice. Before she lost her nerve or thought better of it, she made up her mind. “Okay,” she said before she could stop herself. “I’ll ask my parents. Saturday is usually movie night, but it’s probably fine.”

  “Movie night,” Whitney said slowly, as if she had never heard of such a thing. Then suddenly she asked, “Are you an only child?”

  “Yeah,” Katie said. “How’d you know? Well, my parents are really into having movie night with me. What about you? Are you an only child?” Katie had a feeling that she was, though she couldn’t explain why.

  “Yes, Katie, I am,” Whitney said. It reminded Katie of Amy’s superserious delivery of the line, “Yes, Santa, we are,” and it made her smile inside. Seventh grade might not be a total disaster after all. Of course, it wouldn’t be great. But so far, it wasn’t a nightmare.

  That night, Katie’s parents took her out for pizza to Sal’s, a new restaurant in town. As soon as they were seated, her pocket vibrated.

  K, THE FIRST DAY WAS REALLY GOOD, ACTUALLY! I LOVE MY HOMEROOM.—BFF

  Right, it was about seven o’clock here, so it was four o’clock in the afternoon in California. Katie wrote back:

  A, WOW, THAT’S REALLY GREAT. MINE WAS OKAY. NOT BAD, NOT GREAT.—BFF

  Amy wrote right back:

  K, OH NO! I’LL CALL YOU LATER. MY STUDY BUDDY KIRA IS HERE.—BFF

  Katie wrote:

  WHAT’S A STUDY BUDDY?—BFF

  It took Amy about a half hour to respond. Katie distracted herself by eating pizza. The pizzeria had crayons to use on the white paper tablecloth, and when she was finished eating, she doodled while her parents talked. Finally she felt a vibration.

  SHE’S IN MY HOMEROOM. EVERYONE GOT PAIRED UP WITH A STUDY BUDDY, AND WE ARE SUPPOSED TO HELP EACH OTHER ALL YEAR. LIKE IF WE HAVE QUESTIONS ABOUT HOMEWORK OR WHATEVER. SHE LIVES A FEW HOUSES AWAY, SO SHE CAME OVER AFTER SCHOOL TO HELP ME ORGANIZE. YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I NEED IT. HA-HA.—BFF

  “Did you get much homework?” Katie’s mom asked as she took another slice of pizza. “Wow, I really like this place. I was worried when Zino’s closed, but I think this is even better.”

  “They didn’t give much homework the first day of school, but I have to set up my binder a certain way, and I don’t remember how,” Katie mumbled. She went back to her doodle.

  “Can you call someone for help?” her dad asked.

  “Well, I don’t have my very own study buddy,” Katie said sarcastically. She didn’t realize how bitter she felt about Amy mentioning this Kira until she heard the tone of her own voice.

  Her dad looked at her, puzzled. Katie explained the text exchanges with Amy.

  “I see. Sounds like Amy had a better first day than you. Well, study buddies actually seem like a pretty good idea for seventh grade. Everyone could use one of those,” he said.

  “I guess,” Katie said. “Anyway, you’ll both be very pleased. There’s a new girl, and I think we’re going to be friends.” She noticed a look of relief on her parents’ faces.

  “Her name is Whitney, and she’s pretty nice. I sat with her at lunch,” Katie continued. Her mom seemed to be trying to keep herself from applauding. “Try to control yourself, Mom,” Katie said teasingly.

  “I’m sorry, Kookaburra.” Her mother smiled. “The first day can be hard, and making new friends can be scary. I’m so proud of you.”

  “Where did Whitney move here from?” her dad asked as he reached over and grabbed her mom’s crust off her plate.

  “Um, Wisconsin,” said Katie. “And guess what? She invited me for a sleepover on Saturday. I said I’d ask, but now I think it’s too soon. Maybe I’ll just tell her you said no.”

  “Oh, Kooka,” her dad said. “I think you should push yourself a little. You’re a good judge of character, and all we were going to do Saturday night was watch a movie. We could just do it Sunday instead. Go have a sleepover with your new friend. You’ve been in the house all week.”

  Thursday and Friday at school went fine. Katie ate lunch with Whitney both days. They had only Spanish and homeroom together, so they just saw each other then and at lunch. Katie could open her locker easily now and hung out a little with Emma and Rachel, who were in some of her classes, though somehow it didn’t feel very natural. Actually, what it felt like was “three’s a crowd.” But Saturday came pretty fast.

  Katie’s dad whistled as they drove along the winding roads that led to Whitney’s house. The whistling was kind of annoying, a rather tuneless tune, but Katie didn’t want to hurt her dad’s feelings. She had noticed her parents being extra nice to her since Amy had moved away.

  “Hey, Kookaburra,” her dad said. “How about us having build-your-own taco bar tomorrow night before the movie? Sunday night special.”

  “Yeah, definitely,” Katie said. “With superspicy salsa.”

  “You got it,” her dad said. “And lots and lots of olives,” he added teasingly. He knew olives tasted like poison to Katie. She groaned but was secretly pleased about the plans for the taco bar. Her parents had been making her favorite dinners and patiently sitting with her through television shows she knew they didn’t like. Their attempts to cheer her up weren’t that helpful, but it was sweet they cared.

  Whitney’s family lived across town, in a neighborhood Katie had never been to. “You’d think I know every street in town by now,” she said. After all, she’d lived here her whole life and had spent plenty of time in the car with her parents.

  “Believe it or not, I’ve never been to this neighborhood either,” her dad told her. “Keep looking for Al
abaster Way, okay? I can hardly see with this glare.”

  Katie squinted in the afternoon sun for another mile, anxious they had already missed the turn. How much longer should they go before turning around and backtracking? “There it is!” she crowed triumphantly as she pointed to the street sign. Her dad made a left turn, and they both craned their necks to see the house numbers until they found the small brick home Whitney had described. When they finally pulled into the driveway, Katie was surprised at the nervous feeling in her stomach. It was the same way she felt before a dance recital.

  “You have your phone, right?” her dad asked, smiling at her reassuringly.

  “Yup,” she answered, trying for a casual tone. How did he know how uneasy she suddenly felt? It did always make her feel better to have her cell phone with her, knowing she could call her parents anywhere, anytime. What’s up with me? she thought. I’ve been on at least a hundred sleepovers.

  “Okay then,” her dad said. “Call us to say hello, if you like.”

  Katie grabbed her stuff—a purple sleeping bag with a built-in pillow and matching overnight bag—and walked up to the door with her dad, hoping she didn’t look as nervous as she felt. Whitney was already standing in the open doorway.

  “Hi!” Whitney exclaimed in a voice that seemed a little too loud. She looked relieved that Katie had arrived. “Was it hard to find my house? Were my directions okay?”

  “Hey, Whitney,” Katie said shyly. “No, the directions were fine.” She noticed that Whitney’s eyes seemed even lighter and bluer than they had in school, if that was even possible. As she and her dad stepped inside, Katie felt a bit better as she realized that Whitney was just as nervous as she was. She thought back to that morning at breakfast, when her mom had caught her eye and said, “Listen, honey, I know it’s hard trying to make new friends.”