Friend Or Fiend? (3 page)

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Authors: Judy Blume

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“But Sasha's your friend,” Mom said.

“Was my friend.”

Mom took the chicken out of the oven. “Want to talk about it?”

So while she was dishing out the green beans and potatoes, I told her how Sasha stole my story.

“That must have hurt,” Mom said.

“It did. It hurt really bad.”

Telling Mom made me feel better. So at dinner I told Dad how Sasha stole my story. “She wrote it exactly the way I told it to her.”

“Did she write about me?” the Pain asked.

“Not every story is about you,” I said.

Then I went on and on. “She even wrote about my knees.” I stopped for a minute, to check them. They didn't have scabs yet. “I wanted to rip the paper out of her hand and tear it into teeny tiny bits.”

“You should have,” the Pain said.

Before we went to bed the Pain asked, “How do you spell Sasha?.”

I spelled it out for him. A few minutes later he brought a sign to my room. It said, Sasha is a Fiend! He helped me tape it to the wall above my bed. “Thank you,” I said.

The Pain smiled.

The next morning on the school bus, I didn't look at Sasha. She didn't look at me, either.

[Image: Pain and Sasha]

It was the same in class. And on the playground.

That afternoon Mr. Gee called us up to his desk. Before he even asked what was going on, I blurted it out. “That story Sasha read yesterday . . . she stole it from me.”

“My mother says copying is the highest form of flattery,” Sasha repeated.

Mr. Gee looked at Sasha, then he looked at me. “I hope you two can work this out on your own.”

Madison Purdy got all the girls in our class to choose sides. She made it me against Sasha. I can't stand Madison Purdy. One time at ballet she called me a weed. Now she acted like she was in charge of the whole world. Emily sided with me. Kaylee sided with Sasha. My stomach hurt almost all the time.

On Friday, Mr. Gee called Sasha and me up to his desk again. “This has gone far enough.”

“But...” I started to say.

“No buts,” Mr. Gee said. “If only Madison ...” Sasha began, but Mr. Gee stopped her, too. “No if onlys.”

“Give us one more chance,” Sasha said.

“Okay,” Mr. Gee said. “But this is it.”

On the playground my group huddled to one side and Sasha's group huddled to the other. Everybody had ideas of what we should do. But we couldn't agree on anything. Finally, Sasha and Kaylee came over to us. The other girls backed away until it was just me and Emily, and Kaylee and Sasha. Kaylee said, “Sasha has something to say to you, Abigail.” She gave Sasha a little nudge.

“I'm sorry I used your story,” Sasha said.

“You mean stole my story,” I said.

“She didn't steal it,” Kaylee said. “She borrowed it.”

Emily said, “You can't borrow something if you don't ask first.”

“I never thought of that,” Kaylee said. She looked at Sasha. "Emily's right. It's like

you can't borrow my jacket unless you ask and then I say okay."

Sasha was quiet for a minute. “From now on I'll ask,” she said.

“And when a friend tells you something that's private you won't blab it all over town?” I said.

“I didn't blab it,” Sasha said. “Nobody knew it was your family until you blabbed it.”

That was probably true, I thought. But still. . .

Mr. Gee came over to us. “How's it going?”

Now Kaylee and Emily backed away, leaving just me and Sasha. “You want to know why I did it?” Sasha asked. “Because my family is so boring. Nothing ever happens in my family.”

“Sasha,” Mr. Gee said. “Can you understand why Abigail feels you betrayed her?”

“I guess.” Sasha choked up. “But she dissed my mom. She said my mom steals from her friends.”

“I said maybe your mom steals from her friends.”

Mr. Gee rocked back and forth on his heels.

I knew what I had to do. I just didn't want to do it. “Okay,” I said, and I took a big breath. “I'm sorry I dissed your mom.”

“You're really sorry?” Sasha said.

“Yes.”

“Good.”

“Well,” Mr. Gee said. “I'm glad you two worked out your problems.” He went over to a group of boys.

Sasha turned to me and said, “I'll tell you a secret if you promise not to tell.”

“I promise.”

“This was the worst week of my life. I couldn't even eat, my stomach hurt so bad.”

I didn't tell her how bad my stomach hurt. Instead, I told her about the sign over my bed, the one that says Sasha is a fiend! “But I'm going to take it down today.”

“You really thought I was a fiend7”

“Actually, my brother made the sign and gave it to me.”

“Your brother thought I was a fiend7” "Well, yes ... because you stole my

story."

“I don't see how I can be friends with someone who thought I was a fiend.”

“I said it was my brother, not me.”

“But you put the sign over your bed!”

I never should have told her about the sign. What was I thinking?

Emily and Kaylee came up to us. “So, you two are friends again, right?” Emily asked.

Sasha and I looked at each other. “Friends or fiends,” Sasha said. “We haven't decided yet.”

“It's better to be friends,” Emily and Kaylee said at the same time. They slapped hands, spun around three times, and pretended to spit.

Sasha and I started laughing. We laughed all the way back to our classroom.

Friend or Fiend?
Snow Day

“Snow day!” I jumped onto the Great One's bed. “School's closed.” I shook her. “Come on, wake up!”

“Mmmph . . . bafa ...” she mumbled.

I shook her again. “Open your eyes.”

She swatted at me like I was a mosquito. I grabbed her feet and started pulling. I pulled her right off the bed. She landed on the rug with a thud. But she still didn't open

her eyes. So I dragged her across the floor to the window. This time she opened them. “Look!” I said, holding back her window shade.

“This better be good.” She kneeled in front of the window and looked outside. “Snow?” she said.

“That's what I've been trying to tell you.”

The Great One climbed back into bed and pulled the quilt over her head.

Why wasn't she excited?

I looked into Mom and Dad's room, but they were still sleeping.

“Why isn't anyone else excited?” I asked Fluzzy. He just looked at me.

I crept downstairs to the kitchen. Fluzzy flew by me. He waited at the bottom of the stairs and meowed. I knew what that meant. I got out the box of cat food and carried it to his dish. But before I could fill it I had to take out the three toy mice he'd stashed there. Every night while we're sleeping, Fluzzy plays with his toy mice. We don't

know why he leaves them in his food dish. I lifted them out by their tails. Fluzzy watched as I sniffed them. They smelled like the inside of his mouth.

The Great One won't touch Fluzzy's mice. She says they're disgusting. Probably that's why Fluzzy likes me best. The Great One can't stand that Fluzzy sleeps on my bed. It makes her crazy that I'm Fluzzy's favorite. Maybe if she'd sniff his mice he'd like her better.

I gave Fluzzy fresh water and poured food into his bowl. While he chowed down I opened the front door and stuck out my head. Brrrr ... it was freezing. But I didn't care how cold it was. I pulled my snow jacket over my pajamas, got into my snow boots, and grabbed a hat and mittens. I closed the door behind me so Fluzzy couldn't get out.

I almost slid down the front steps because the snow was so deep you couldn't tell exactly where the steps were. Everything was white. I jumped off the steps. The snow was ^ fluffy. It wasn't as high as my waist, but it came up past my knees.

I clomped around the front yard. I started a fort, but it wasn't that

much fun trying to build a r fort by myself. So I gave up and rolled in the snow. I rolled all the way across our front yard. And all the way back.

By then I had snow down my neck. My pajama bottoms were soaked. Plus I was hungry. So I went to the front door. But the doorknob wouldn't turn. I banged on it. I rang the bell ten times. I called, “Hello ... let me in!” Fluzzy came to the window next to the door and looked out at me. “Go get Mom or Dad,” I told him. He pawed at the glass, but that was it. I banged again. Louder this time. “Hello . . . somebody .. . anybody . . .”

Finally, the Great One opened the door. She looked me up and down. “Why are you wearing pajamas in the snow?”

I didn't answer.

“You better change before Mom sees you.”

But it was too late. Mom was already coming down the stairs. “Jake . . . you went out in the snow in your pajamas?” she said, like she couldn't believe it. “What were you thinking?”

I wasn't thinking anything except about the snow, but I didn't tell that to Mom.

“Go upstairs and change into dry clothes,” Mom said. “And bring me those wet pajamas.”

Fluzzy smiled. Some people think cats can't smile, but I know they can. Sometimes Fluzzy laughs, even if I'm the only one who knows it.

We were just about finished with breakfast when Justin came to the door. “Can Jake come out to play?” he asked Dad.

“Snow fort!” we yelled when we were outside. We started building in the front yard. Dylan came over. Then a couple of other boys. Then Michael and Eric from fifth

grade. We all worked together. I wished every day could be a snow day!

When the Great One's friends came over, she raced out of the house with Fluzzy right behind her.

Eric shouted, “No girls allowed in our fort!”

“Who'd want to be in your fort?” the Great One said. She and her friends laughed and went to the backyard.

Fluzzy sniffed the air. He tasted the snow. Then he tried walking in it, very slowly. I called to him, “Come on, Fluzz . . . you can do it.”

That's when Madison Purdy and her little brother, Brett, showed up. What were they doing at our house? The Great One says if Madison Purdy was the last person on earth, she still wouldn't be friends with her.

Fluzzy flew over the snow to our fort. Madison Purdy stopped in her tracks when she saw him. “I know that cat.”

“No, you don't,” I said.

“He looks just like my cat who ran away.” “Well, he's not,” I told her. “He's my cat.” “No, really .. .” she said. “I think it is Mister.”

“It's not Mister,” I argued. “It's Fluzzy.” I wondered who would name a cat Mister?

“I don't care if you stole my cat,” she said. “Because Mister was stupid and mean. He was always hissing.”

Fluzzy took one look at Madison Purdy, hissed, and ran for his life. He ducked under the porch of our house.

Madison watched. “Didn't that cat look like Mister?” she asked Brett.

“Mister was a bad cat,” Brett said. “He didn't like me.”

“That's because you pulled his tail.”

“I pulled his tail because he didn't like me.”

“Just stay away from my cat,” I told them both.

“Where are the girls?” Madison asked. “I heard they were over here.”

“In the back,” I told her.

Madison headed for the backyard, dragging Brett with her.

I went back to work on our fort with the other boys. It was a big fort. The biggest snow fort ever. But before we finished

building it, before we even started making snowballs, someone yelled, “Attack/” And the girls came rushing at us, pounding us with snowballs.

Thwack!

Smash!

Oomph!

Ouch!

We fought back. We scooped together snowballs as fast as we could, but by then the girls were leaping over our fort, jumping onto our backs. Justin went down. Dylan went down. Wham! I was tackled from behind and pushed facedown in the snow. I tried to yell for help. I tried to kick. But someone sat on my legs and held my head down. I couldn't breathe. Just when I thought that might be the end of me, someone else pulled her off.

“What do you think you're doing to my brother?” It was the Great One.

“Washing his face in snow,” Madison Purdy said.

"How would you feel if I washed your

little brother's face in snow?" the Great One asked Madison.

“I wouldn't mind,” Madison said. “He deserves it.”

“So do you!” The Great One scooped up a handful of snow and shoved it in Madison's face.

Brett jumped up and down, clapping his hands. “Do it again!”

Madison said, “Shut up, Brett!” She grabbed his arm and pulled him away. “Let's get out of here.”

“And don't come back!” the Great One shouted. “That means never!”

“Never would be too soon for me!” Madison yelled.

As they were leaving, Michael yelled, “Truce!” And the snowballs stopped flying.

Then Eric shouted, “Sledding on Holden Hill!”

In two minutes all the kids were racing home to get their sleds.

The Great One ran for the garage to get hers. “This is the best day in the history of the world!” she sang. “You were right to be excited. Maybe it'll snow again tonight. Maybe tomorrow will be another snow day.”

But I was thinking, One snow day at a time is enough for me. Fluzzy came out from

under the house. I'm pretty sure he was thinking the same thing.

Friend or Fiend?
How Fluzzy Got His Name

I like thunder, but Fluzzy doesn't. After supper tonight we had a thunderstorm. When Fluzzy heard the first rumble he flew up the stairs. I knew where he was going--to his favorite hiding place: the bathroom closet, way in back, on top of the towels.

Charlie was babysitting the Great One and me. The three of us were playing Uno at the kitchen table. Lightning lit up the sky.

[Image: Charlie babysitting]

Then crash! “That was a big one!” I shouted. I had to shout because the Great One had cotton stuffed in her ears. She says she's not afraid of thunder. But I don't believe her.

“What's today's date?” the Great One asked Charlie. She took the cotton out of one of her ears so she could hear.

Charlie checked her watch. “April twenty-eighth,” she said. Charlie's watch can tell time around the world. It tells the date, too.

“April twenty-eighth,” the Great One said. “I knew it!”

“Knew what?” I said.

“It's Fluzzy's birthday!”

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