Twice As Nice (16 page)

“Well, if it isn't the biggest rat ever,” Lauren said as she walked onto the deck of the clubhouse the next morning. “Seems like we've done this same scene before, haven't we, Little Miss Tattletale?”

From her opening line, it was pretty clear how the rest of the meeting was going to go. It was exactly ten o'clock and we were all sitting at the table on the deck—my dad, Sammie, Sara, Sara's mom, and me.

I had hardly slept all night. The one time I did fall asleep, I had a dream about a clown wearing a scarf and hoop earrings. Then for no reason, he turned into a pirate who kept chasing me. Then he morphed into a pelican with a fish in his mouth, only the fish was me. I was happy when the sun rose in the morning and I could get up from the couch and start the day. Anything had to be better than that dream.

Lauren slid onto the bench at the opposite end of the table. Her dad, Chip, who is a pal of my dad's (and the one who got him the job at the Sport Forty) came in from the parking lot carrying a newspaper under his arm. He sat down next to my dad.

“Stock market took a hit yesterday,” he said. “Oh, and Lauren's mother can't make it this morning. She sends her apologies, but she and Carol Ann are getting their hair done for Bethany's party tonight. Hope it's okay if it's just me.”

“It's fine, Daddy,” Lauren said. “This shouldn't take long, anyway.” She shot me a cold glance, and then looked away. “I don't suppose Ryan's here,” she added.

“As it happens, he isn't,” my dad said. “This isn't a social visit, anyway.”

“Sounds like you're making a pretty big deal of this, Rick,” Lauren's dad said. “Get a little perspective here. It's just kids who got themselves in a little jam.”

Bethany's dad, Dennis Wadsworth, was the next to arrive, hurrying in and carrying a stack of plastic serving bowls in his arms.

“Let me just run into the kitchen and put these down,” he said. “I remember the days when a birthday party was a simple affair.”

Bethany took her seat at the far end of the table next to Lauren. She was holding her phone in her hand, which took a lot of nerve, given the topic of conversation this morning.

“Isn't anyone going to wish me a happy birthday?” she asked.

“I am,” Lauren said. “Happy birthday, Beth.”

When her father returned and we were all gathered around the table, my dad began.

“As I said last night on the phone, we have a problem that I think requires our attention,” he said.

“Bethany has told me something about it,” her dad said. Then looking at Sara, he said, “And I'm terribly sorry if you got your feelings hurt in any way, young lady.”

I noticed Sara's mom reach out and squeeze Sara's hand.

“Like I always say to Lauren,” her dad, Chip, said, “we all have to watch what we say and do with these phones.”

He seemed to think that was the end of the conversation, but my dad wasn't letting it go.

“Did your daughters tell you exactly what happened?” he asked. “That Lauren pressured Charlie into telling a secret that wasn't hers to tell, holding her membership in the Junior Waves over her head?”

Chip looked surprised. I saw him shoot a questioning glance to Lauren, who just shrugged and said, “He's making it sound like a bigger deal than it was.”

“And that Lauren took Sammie's phone without permission and stole the picture and sent it to Bethany,” my dad went on. Then turning to Dennis, he added, “And your daughter posted it on a photo-sharing site with a cruel comment.”

“Can I see this posting?” Dennis asked.

Bethany handed him her phone, and I saw him flip to the screen.

“We thought it was funny, Daddy,” Bethany said. “Some people just can't take a joke. I didn't know she was so sensitive. I'm sure I'm not the first one to call her Dumbo.”

Sara winced like someone had punched her.

“Do not say those words ever again, young lady,” Sara's mom said, her dark eyes full of anger. “Apologize right now.”

“Okay, okay,” Bethany said. “Don't get all in a twist about it. So sorry.”

Obviously, she couldn't have cared less about her apology.

Dennis passed the phone to his brother Chip, who looked at the picture and scrolled through all the comments. I looked over at Sara to see how she was taking this. Her eyes were looking down at the planks on the redwood table, studying them intently. She never looked up.

“Can we go now, Uncle Chip?” Bethany said, taking back her phone. “We still have a ton of stuff to do to get ready for the party.”

She stood up and turned to the gate, but her father took her arm and stopped her.

“Sit down, young lady,” he said. “I'm going to tell you a story—perhaps one that I should have told you before. Pay attention.”

Bethany reluctantly flopped down on the bench and put on her most bored look ever.

“When Chip and I were growing up, there was a kid who lived down the block,” her father began. “He was a short kid, and I'm ashamed to say, we made terrible fun of him. Developed all sorts of names for him. Peanut. Shrimp. Shortypants. Some a lot meaner than that.”

“Just put up a flag when this is going to get interesting,” Bethany said.

“Well, when we got to high school, lo and behold, this short kid sprouted up. In fact, he sprouted up quite a bit, so much so that he made the basketball team at UCLA.”

“Which we did not,” Chip added. “Remember, Rick, we barely made the junior varsity team in high school.”

His brother held up his hand for Chip to be quiet, then continued his story.

“So this short kid played pro basketball,” Dennis said. “Made some good money, invested well. Do you know who he is now?”

“Kobe Bryant?” Lauren guessed.

“No. Even better. He's the owner of an NBA team. And my boss.”

Bethany looked shocked.

“That's right, Bethany. I work in the main office, and I have a fine position. But my boss is that kid I used to call Peanut. He proved to be a bigger man than me in a lot of ways, not the least of which was hiring me when he bought the team.”

Sara looked up from the table and smiled. Bethany's dad looked at her and smiled back.

“So you see, neither you nor Lauren has the right to make fun of anyone,” he said, “especially not this lovely young lady sitting across from us. I'm disappointed in both of you.”

Lauren's Dad seemed more concerned with practical matters.

“Do you think the school officials already know about this?” he asked. “I'd hate for our girls to have any repercussions at school.”

“If they don't already know, I assure you they will,” Mrs. Berlin said, “because I plan to tell them myself. Kids can't go around cyberbullying other kids. It's unacceptable. Do you have any idea how embarrassing this was to my daughter? How much something like this hurts?”

Mrs. Berlin put her arm around Sara. The moment her mother touched her, Sara burst into tears. Not just the flowing kind, but the sobbing kind, the way I had cried last night.

Bethany's dad looked like he was going to cry, too.

“This is what you've done,” he said to Bethany, shaking his finger in the air. “And you too, Lauren. Take a good look and then tell me how you feel about yourselves.”

“We didn't do anything
that
bad,” Bethany said. “We were just having fun.”

Mr. Wadsworth was on his feet now. He was tall, and he towered over Bethany.

“You had fun at someone else's expense,” he said. “In my book, that is not fun, that's cruelty. Do you hear me, Bethany? Are you listening, Lauren?”

“You don't have to shout, Daddy. We're not deaf.”

“I participated, too,” I said softly. “I was the one who started the whole thing.”

Mr. Wadsworth wheeled around and looked at me for the first time.

“And how do you feel about what you've done?” he asked.

“Terrible. I was wrong, so totally wrong. I wish I could take back everything I did, but I can't. So I'm just going to have to try to be better.”

“Well, you're a brave girl,” Bethany's dad said to me. “Half the battle of doing the right thing is owning up to it when you've done the wrong thing. I wish I felt certain that Bethany and Lauren understood that.”

“Okay, Daddy,” Bethany whined. “I get it. Now can we stop talking about this?”

“Yes, we can. But I hope you understand, Bethany, that there are going to be consequences. At home and at school.”

“What do you mean by that?” Bethany said, rising to her feet.

Suddenly, Mrs. Berlin stood up to face her. She looked her square in the eyes, in a way that made even Bethany uncomfortable. When she spoke, her voice was angry but controlled.

“You could be expelled, young lady,” she said. “Many schools demand that a student who posts an inappropriate picture with hateful messages must leave.”

“Like for good?” Bethany said.

“That's usually what expelled means,” Sammie said.

“What about me?” Lauren asked. “They're not going to kick me out, are they?”

For the first time ever, she sounded shaky and insecure.

“I can't imagine your principal will look kindly on your behavior,” my dad said.

“Wait . . . does that mean I can't be a Junior Wave?” she cried. Now she seemed really upset.

“I think you'd better wave good-bye to The Waves,” Sammie said. “Junior, senior, or any other kind.”

“You don't know that,” Lauren said with a scowl.

“Yeah,” Bethany added. “You don't know anything, you creep.”

Mrs. Berlin gathered her sweater in one hand and took Sara by the other.

“This whole experience has been very hurtful to my child,” she said. “I just hope you people will do something so no one else has to suffer like Sara has. Now if you'll excuse us. We've had enough of this.”

Mrs. Berlin guided Sara across the deck.

“Stand up tall,” I heard her say to Sara. “You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I'll come over to your house as soon as we're done here,” Sammie said, running over to give Sara a hug.

I practically tripped over myself to get to her before she reached the gate.

“Sara,” I said, taking both her hands in mine. “I hope you'll forgive me. I'm going to work really hard to deserve your friendship.”

“I'll try, Charlie.”

When Sammie and I came back to the table, Bethany's dad was pacing up and down the deck, holding his cell phone to his ear.

“Well, can you please tell her it's urgent that we speak,” he barked into the phone. “I don't care if she's in the middle of a blow dry.”

“What are you doing, Daddy?” Bethany asked.

He didn't answer, just spoke into the phone.

“Hello, Carol Ann,” he said. “The party's off. I'm canceling it.”

“No, Daddy! You can't do that!” Bethany shouted, jumping up and stomping her foot. “We have hats and party favors and everything.”

“I can and I have,” he said to her. “If I were you, I'd spend more time figuring out where you're going to complete high school than thinking about party favors.”

“Wow, this is intense,” Lauren said.

Her dad, Chip, stood up and headed for the gate. “First the stock market takes a hit, then this,” he said. “What a week. Come on, Lauren. You're going to have to get re-acquainted with the inside of your room.”

Suddenly, Lauren whirled around and shook her finger at me.

“This is all your stupid fault!” she yelled. “I wish we had never invited your into our club in the first place. We never really wanted you, anyway. We just used you so we could get the charter. I should have known you'd rat us out again. You are so out of our group. Forever.”

I couldn't even begin to get a word out to answer her back. But Sammie could.

“Is this the best you can do, Lauren?” she yelled. “Blame other people for what you've done. Well I have an idea. Why don't you stop blaming everyone else and take a hard look at yourself for a change?”

“I do look at myself,” Lauren shouted back. “And I look great. A whole lot better than you two losers.”

Lauren got up to leave, but Sammie followed her to the gate. She was on fire!

“My sister is way too good for you!” she said. “You will never be half the person she is. So just go home and enjoy your stay in your room. I'd say see you around school, but it sounds like you may be leaving Beachside prematurely.”

Lauren turned and stomped out of the club, her father following behind her.

“The girl's got her mother's temper,” was all he said as he left.

Sammie came back to the table and flopped down in a chair. She was practically shaking all over.

“Thanks for saying that, Sams. I didn't deserve it.”

“Yes, you do. You messed up big-time. But I know your heart's in the right place. Sara knows that, too.”