BFF Breakup (20 page)

“I didn't!” she said.

“Oh, spare me, Madeline.”

“I don't know why I did it,” she said again, and it looked like she might start bawling at any moment, which made me want to cry too. I wondered when I'd run out of tears for her.

“Because you're a heartless jerk?” I snapped.

“I'm not even sure I like him,” she said. “I mean, he's cute—everyone thinks so—but really, you can have him.”

“
Have
him?”

“I won't stand in your way. And I won't bother you anymore. I promise.”

She started to leave and I said, “Madeline, wait.” She turned back, and I swore I could see her shaking—actually shaking. “Are you talking about Derek?
I'm
not talking about Derek. God.”

She seemed to relax for a moment. “You're not? Then what are you talking about?”

I pointed to my head, shocked that she didn't know. “Your hair!”

Her hand reached back and grasped her now-bare neck. “You're—you're talking about my hair?”

Once I heard myself say it I knew how dumb it was. Mad about her hair? How stupid! But I also knew that it wasn't about her hair, not in the least. It was about everything else, about friendship and promises and plans together. That's why I'd freaked out when I saw her new short cut. And Derek? He was the absolute last thing on my mind. Like, seriously. “I don't care about him.”

“You don't?” she asked, seeming to calm down.

“No!”

We stared at each other for a moment, each trying to figure out the other's confusion. And then, at what seemed like the same time, we smiled at each other. The smiles grew to chuckles, which then led to full-scale, bursting-out laughter. Tears were running down my face. The laughing kind of tears.

“I can't believe you thought I was talking about Derek!” I gasped through laughter.

“I can't believe you're being so serious over my
hair
,” she laughed back.

“Hey,” I said, trying to look serious. “Never joke about your hair.”

I guess that, after all that had happened between us for the last couple of weeks, for me to finally break down over her cutting her own hair was pretty ridiculous.

We finally pulled ourselves together, wiping our eyes and checking ourselves in the mirror. Once we cleaned up, it seemed like we didn't know what to say. What had just happened?

I threw my paper towels away and we both just sort of stood there for a moment. I wanted to talk to her, to laugh again about something silly. I wanted to instantly be her friend again. But I knew I couldn't. Things just weren't that easy.

Who was it up to to end our fight? Was it even fixable? I wasn't sure. I certainly wasn't going to find the answer standing there in the girls' room, beneath the always-flattering fluorescent lights.

“Well, I guess I better get back out there,” I finally said, heading toward the door. “Have fun.”

“Yeah, you, too,” she said.

Before I walked out the door, I looked at her hair and said, “It looks good like that.” I left before she could respond.

I found Corrine and Lily in the middle of the dance floor and joined them. I danced the nervous energy out of my body. Lily smiled at me as she did a little spin, and then we made our own circle, the three of us dancing until we finally started to sweat and nothing mattered but the next song. Some guys danced up near us, but we mostly
ignored them, preferring to keep to ourselves. We sang along loudly and badly to the songs we knew, holding up fake microphones and waving our hands over our heads. I can honestly say it was the most fun I'd had in weeks.

Finally, a slow song came on.

“Thank goodness,” Corrine said. “I'm ready for a break.”

She started to lead the way off, but a guy I recognized from around the halls, Peter, asked Lily to dance. “Oh!” she said, looking to us. “Um, yeah, okay.”

Corrine and I leaned back out of her way, mouthing
Go Lily!
to Peter's back as she blushed, visible even in the multicolored lights.

Then someone said my name. A guy.

“Hey, um. Hey. Want to dance?”

A smile spread across my face when I saw Chris(topher) standing before me in a black button-down and a red bow tie, which I guessed was fancier than his regular school ties. He looked everywhere but at me, and just to mess with him I said, “You talking to me?”

He looked me in the eyes and said, “Well, of course. Who else would I be talking to?” When he saw my smile, he calmed down and said, “Oh,” and turned his eyes back down to the floor.

I stepped toward him and took his hand in mine. He
put his other hand on my waist, resting it there lightly. I turned my eyes to look at him as he looked off across the gym, and noticed the way his bottom lip pouted out. I couldn't believe that I had once kissed it, even if it was only for about two seconds. I supposed he was kind of cute, in a Chris(topher) sort of way. If he'd lose the ties. He turned his head like he might look at me, so I turned my own gaze off to the other side.

We didn't say anything the whole time, but I liked the way his hand felt in mine. It wasn't sweaty like I figured it might be, and he held it just so, as if he didn't want to let go, but also didn't want me to think he liked holding my hand too much.

When the song ended, he took a step back, then let go of my hand. “Uh, thanks.” He glanced around then looked back at the floor.

The next song had lots of heavy beats, a hip-hop number I just knew he had to like. “Dude, you should do it,” I said.

He looked at me. “What?”

“Get
down
, you know what I'm saying?”

“Why are you talking like that?”

I laughed. “This is your kind of music. Why don't you dance to it like you like to dance? This is a dance after all.”

He looked around. “They'll laugh at me.”

“Since when do you care? You didn't that day in the courtyard. You didn't care last year.”

“Last year didn't matter. We're not kids anymore.”

I reached for his tie and said, “Actually, Chris, we are.” I tugged at it, but it didn't come untied like I thought it would. It was a clip on.

“It's Christopher,” he said.

“Not to me it's not. How do you get this thing off?” I said, trying to see how it worked, while fully aware that my hands were close to his neck and jaw and face.

He seemed to notice too, because he said, “Here,” and gently moved my hands away. He unhooked it, slid it off his neck, and put it in his pocket. He looked me dead in the eyes, all hazel and meaningful and serious and said, “Better stand back.”

I pumped my arm. “Yes!”

It would be impossible to perfectly describe the moves Chris laid out on that dance floor. There was spinning on his back, of course, and his signature worm with an added lift-up onto the points of his toes. He also managed to twist and jerk his body in a way that had the whole school cheering him on. I was right there in the midst, cheering too. Corrine and Lily appeared by my side and we encouraged Chris in his first real solo. As I laughed and clapped my hands to the beat, I looked across and
saw Madeline. She was standing with her friends, smiling, but looking at me. I must have just caught her. We both paused, and she smiled brighter, just for me, and nodded her head ever so slightly. In that instant I felt that maybe somehow, things were going to get better.

At home later that night, after checking in with Mom and Dad about how the dance went, I sat at the kitchen computer to see if Madeline was on IM. She wasn't. She was probably staying at Susanna's or one of the other girls'. Earlier in the evening I'd been kind of hurt that Corrine and Lily hadn't invited me to sleep over—I assumed they were spending the night together. Now I was glad to be alone. Too much had happened.

I couldn't stop replaying the scenes in my head, picking over every word in the bathroom, every look in the gym. There was definitely something about the way Madeline looked at me, especially at the end of the night, that felt genuine. She looked sad and a little bit hopeful. Or maybe it was the new haircut that was throwing me off. It looked cute on her. I still couldn't believe she chopped it, but she wore it well.

After washing my face and putting on my pajamas, I went back to the kitchen and got on the computer again. I thought about writing back to Madeline. She had, after
all, taken the first step toward us making up, even if it was kind of a lousy step. I guess she meant well. I started to realize that a part of me never really believed that our friendship was totally over. How could it be, just like that? Maybe we'd never been through a major fight before, but we were true best friends, not just two girls who hung out because we lived near each other. I couldn't stop thinking about her, and that had to count for something, too. She was my best friend, forever.

I started to write, unsure I would send it even as my fingers danced across the keyboard.

Hey. I liked seeing you tonight. I know a lot has happened, but if you want to hang out sometime, let me know. We were always good at finding something to do.

I stared at the screen and asked myself if I
wanted
to be friends with Madeline again, and then if I
could
be friends with her. Finally I asked myself if I
needed
to be friends with her. I liked Corrine and Lily, even if they weren't my best friends. I trusted them and had fun with them. I wondered if that was enough. Could you live your life BFF-less, having only good friends? Would I be okay with that?

W
E WERE ALL IN OUR PAJAMAS, OUR FACES
washed and teeth brushed, sitting in Susanna's room with junk food spread around us and a stack of scary movies on the floor, ready to choose which one would scare us to sleep.

Even though Natalie and Julia had air mattresses and sleeping bags on the floor, we all piled on Susanna's queen-size bed to watch the movie about a killer who decapitates his victims with hedge clippers. Julia's piercing screams had Susanna's mom
running into the room every time until she finally asked us to try to keep it down.

After the movie, Julia swore it was a true story. “Based on one, anyway,” she said. To prove she was wrong, I Googled the killer's name and MO and found it wasn't true.

“Still, it could totally happen,” she maintained.

While I was at the computer I logged into my account and checked my e-mail.

I hadn't told the girls about talking to Brooke in the bathroom. I'd kept it all to myself, mostly because I still wasn't sure what it meant.

When I saw Brooke's name in my in-box, I let out an audible gasp.

“Did you find something?” Julia said, scrambling over to the computer. “I knew it—hey. What's her name doing in there?”

“Whose name?” Susanna said, craning her neck toward us.

Julia nudged my arm. “Open it.”

“What is it?” Susanna asked and she and Natalie joined us at the computer.

“Nothing, you guys,” I said, trying to close out.

“Brooke's name was in her in-box,” Julia said.

I saw Susanna's face light up with news. “Oh my god, you must open it. Now. What's the hold up?”

“It's just . . . I don't know what it says.” I said.

“Well,
duh
, you don't know what it says,” Julia said. “You have to open it to find out.”

Susanna eyed me and said, “Madeline, we're all friends here. You're not trying to hide something from us, are you?”

“Of course not,” I said.

“Then let's see it.”

They all stood around me, staring. The same girls who'd made school so much fun, who I'd connected with and laughed with, and who'd been there for me during my nightmare home situation. They were my friends. I had nothing to hide from them—or I shouldn't, anyway. So I clicked open the message and read it, along with three other girls standing over my shoulder.

“Oh my god,” Julia said. “What is she—a stalker or something?”

“Yeah,” Natalie said. “‘I liked seeing you tonight'? What, was she lurking in the corners, staring you down or something?”

Susanna stood back and said, “Did you guys talk or something?”

Natalie and Julia paused, and three sets of wide eyes were on me, hoping I wouldn't say what they didn't want to hear.

“I ran into her in the bathroom,” I said. “She mentioned my hair.”

Susanna crossed her arms and said, “Does she think you're going to be friends again?”

“I don't know what she thinks.”

“Because if you're thinking of forgiving her, you better think twice.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“She's just saying,” Natalie said. “After all that Brooke did—”