Twice As Nice (6 page)

“Okay, let's get rid of these pizza boxes so we don't have cheese stains all over our application,” Lauren said after dinner. “Esperanza! Could you please come here and take these?”

Alicia's mom, Esperanza, works at the Wadsworth's house when she's not working at the Sporty Forty. I think she spends three days at each job. I love Espie—she's become a great friend of our family and really helped take care of GoGo after she broke her leg. The last thing I wanted was for her to have to come into the kitchen to clean up our mess.

“I'll take care of this,” I said, popping up and clearing the boxes off the table. “Where do you keep your recycling bin?”

“Oh, Charlie, you're such a hopelessly good girl,” Lauren said.

“But that's what we love about you,” Lily added.

By the time I had returned from dumping the boxes in the garbage bin, which was already out at the curb waiting for the next day's pick up, the papers were spread out on the table.

“So, Ryan already helped us enter most of this information on the application form,” Lauren said, as I pulled up a chair. “We just have to add your answers. Let's write them down for now, and I can get my dad to put it all in the computer later.”

“I can do it,” I said. “It's not hard.”

“Why bother?” said Lauren. “It's so much easier to have my dad do it. So, here's the first question. List your most important extracurricular activities and why they matter to you.”

I didn't have to give that one a second thought.

“Well, for sure mine is playing competitive doubles tennis with my sister. It's really important because we're hoping to win scholarships one day to pay for college.”

“College,” Brooke nodded approvingly. “They'll like that. It sounds so serious.”

“In a boring kind of way,” Jillian added.

“Plus, we just got a new ranking,” I said proudly. “We're now eleventh in the state in the fourteen-and-under category. If we keep it up, we'll make it to the Top Ten Club.”

“Oh yeah. That's what I'm talking about,” Lauren said, writing as fast as her pen could go. “The principal is going to love that.”

“Can we highlight that in yellow?” Jillian asked.

Lily laughed. “I don't think you have to, Jilly,” she said. “It's pretty impressive as is. I'd say it stands out all on its own.”

I was on a feel-good roll now, so I just went on.

“Also, every year on Christmas Day, our whole family goes to the mission downtown and helps serve turkey dinners to the homeless people. It's a tradition.”

“Not us,” Brooke said. “Our tradition is ripping open all the presents and trying everything on.”

Lauren burst out laughing and threw her arm around Brooke. “Remember that year when everything your mom bought you was one size too small?”

Brooke started to chuckle and groan at the same time.

“Brookie didn't stop crying all day,” Lauren laughed. “It was so pathetic.”

“Then our families went skiing together the next day,” Lily explained to me. “Brooke was in such a bad mood, she didn't even want to leave the condo. So I stayed back with Brooke. We spent the whole day drinking hot chocolate.”

“Okay, everyone, no more reminiscing. We still have to add Charlie's info to this whole section on grades,” she said, picking up her pen again.

“Let's not and say we did,” Jillian said. We all cracked up. Lauren was done messing around, though.

“Charlie, what do you have for us?” she asked.

“Well, on my last report card, I got all As and one B.”

“Unbelievable! That's exactly what I got!” Brooke giggled.

“Yeah, in your dreams,” Lily said. “The day you get an A, I'll eat my hat.” Then she took off the hat she was wearing, a cute black-and-red checkered one with actual earflaps, and pretended to be chomping it down. We all cracked up again.

It felt so good to be back with these girls. They knew each other so well that they just said and did whatever they felt like. It was like I had always known them.

It took us another hour to finish the application. We added some stuff about how I was new to Beachside Middle School and looking for an opportunity to participate in the community. And while we were making additions, we decided to put in a whole paragraph on Lily's talent for fashion design and how she had volunteered to make all the hats for Bethany's sweet sixteen. I suggested we put in that Lily was going to donate all the hats to a children's charity afterward, but Lauren didn't think Bethany would go for that.

Lauren decided that she and Lily would get to school early to turn in the application. If we all trooped in to Principal Pfeiffer's office together, it would look too much like we were a clique and not a school club. Lauren's very smart about these things.

“Let's all meet at our table at lunch to see if there's any news,” Lauren said.

“Me too?” I asked, suddenly timid about whether I'd be welcome.

“Oh, I hadn't thought about that,” Lauren said, pausing to consider what to do.

“Of course you too,” Lily said, answering for Lauren. “You're back, remember?”

“But what about Jared and Sean? Won't they be there?” I asked.

“They're not the leaders of the SF2s,” Lauren said. “You are definitely sitting at our lunch table. They'll just have to get used to that. We all will.”

It had been such a big deal when the SF2s first invited me to sit with them at their table. They have the best table in the lunch pavilion, and every day the whole crowd gathers there to laugh and tell stories and make plans for what they'll do after school. I had really missed sitting with them the past three weeks. Once or twice, I'd had lunch with Sammie or Ryan, but mostly I just went to the library and ate lunch alone. The thought of joining them at “our” table again made me want to stand up and dance. Or at the very least, shave my legs.

Mrs. Wadsworth was on her way to meet some friends for a bridge game, so she offered to drive all of us home.

“Good luck to us,” I said as I stood on the porch and said good-bye to Lauren. “Tomorrow's going to be a big day.”

I was surprised when we all climbed into the backseat of the car to find Esperanza sitting in the front, next to Mrs. Wadsworth.

“
Hola
,
Charlito
,” she said. “Mrs. Wadsworth is driving me home, too. Did you have a nice time with your friends?”

I wanted to sink into the big black leather seat and disappear. I didn't want to seem like one of the rich girls in front of Esperanza. Usually, Espie and I talk about all kinds of things, and I practice my Spanish with her. But I didn't feel comfortable having our usual chat now that the other girls were in the car. We rode the rest of the way in silence.

When we pulled up in front of The Sporty Forty, I hopped out quickly. As I ran inside, I could hear Esperanza call out, “
Hasta mañana
,
Charlito
.” I didn't answer again.

The minute I pushed the gate open and went inside, I saw Sammie leaning against the screen door of the clubhouse, her arms folded across her chest.

“Have a nice evening?” she said. Her voice was tight and angry.

“Sammie, let me explain . . .”

“Dad already did. I know the whole story. We had a lot of time to talk about it while I
wasn't
out to dinner with you as we had planned. Nice touch, sis.”

Ryan came swaggering in from the kitchen, eating ice cream from the carton.

“Somebody's in the doghouse with Sam-I-Am,” he said, a few chocolate chips spewing from his mouth. “And I think her initials are C. D. Do you know anyone with those initials, Charles?”

“Can you please ingest your half gallon of ice cream somewhere else, Ryan? Sammie and I need to talk.”

“Stay right there, Ryan,” Sammie said. “We don't need to talk. I think Charlie's actions tonight said plenty.”

“I'm sorry about tonight, Sams,” I said. “I was hoping we could go to Barone's tomorrow night.”

“I'm busy tomorrow night, Charlie. “

“I know you're not.”

“You just don't get it, do you?” Sammie said, her blue eyes glaring at me. “It feels really terrible to be second choice. You chose Lauren and those girls over me. And this isn't the first time, either. So fine. That's the way it is. “

“Score a point for Sammie,” Ryan said. “You got a comeback for that, Charles?”

“No, she doesn't,” Sammie said. “Because there's really nothing more to say, is there, Charlie? The truth is the truth.”

She was right. The truth was that I had missed my friends; that more than anything, I wanted to be back in their company; that I loved the idea of being a Junior Wave; and I had chosen those things over her.

There was a moment of silence, filled only by the slurping sounds of Ryan getting the last goopy remains of Mint Chip from the bottom of the ice-cream carton.

“I'm going to bed,” Sammie said.

She turned around and marched inside, leaving me standing there alone, with nothing but my decision to keep me company.

Sammie had already left for school by the time I woke up the next morning. She'd taped a note for me on the shower door.

“I guess you have to do what you have to do,” it said. “Good luck with that.”

It was a typical Sammie note. She can be really pigheaded about her own ideas. She likes to see things her way. Maybe we all do, I don't know. But as far as I'm concerned, I wasn't sympathetic. I had apologized for standing her up. I had invited her out to another dinner. I had gone to her stupid Truth Tellers, and tried my best to fit in. But it didn't work out. For the first time in weeks, I woke up in a good mood and was looking forward to going to school. You'd think she could be happy for me.

Once I got to school, I couldn't keep myself from hanging around outside Principal Pfeiffer's office. I tried not to be obvious about it, pretending I had developed a deep interest in the policies about respecting school property posted on the bulletin board outside his office. Finally, just before the bell rang, Lauren and Lily came bouncing out into the hall.

“We did it!” Lauren said, linking her arm in mine and guiding me down the hall toward homeroom.

“What did he say?” I asked.

“That he was very familiar with The Waves at Pacific High, and that he thought a Junior Waves at Beachside was a fine idea.”

“And guess what, Charlie?” Lily said. “He'd heard about your win at the Sand and Surf tournament over the weekend and was very impressed. Apparently, he has a little son who is just getting started in tennis and thinks you guys are amazing.”

“Yay, me!” I said with a giddy laugh. “So when's he going to let us know?”

“He said maybe as early as tomorrow,” Lauren answered. “Thursday at the latest. And you know what that means?”

I didn't, but I nodded my head anyway.

“That we could go to the Friday night game as official Junior Waves?” Lily asked.

Lauren didn't answer. She just squealed, and that said it all.

As we walked to homeroom, we talked excitedly about our ideas for T-shirts. Lily didn't think ours should be exactly the same as the ones The Waves wore, because we wanted to have our own look. But we all agreed that they should definitely be the same color, so when we sat together at the game, we could blend in and look like one big group.

I didn't have a chance to talk with Sammie at school in the morning, but I did run into her at the beginning of lunch. She was standing at her locker with Alicia and Sara Berlin, pulling out a beat-up-looking canvas lunch bag that had seen one too many tuna sandwiches.

“Hi,” I said, not too friendly, not too angry, just right in the middle. I wondered if Sammie had told Alicia and Sara about our fight, but I was pretty sure she hadn't because Sara was really friendly and said, “Hey, Charlie. Want to join us for lunch? We're going to Mr. Walsh's room to watch a documentary on how dolphins are almost as intelligent as humans.”

“Thanks, Sara, but I can't.”

“Charlie has plans with her other group,” Sammie said. “I guess we're not good enough for her.”

Even Sara and Alicia looked surprised at her tone.

“Ease up there,” Alicia said. “This is your sister, you're talking to.”

“That's okay,” I said to Alicia. “Sammie and I are just having a little disagreement. No big deal. We'll get over it. We always do, don't we, Sams?”

She didn't answer. Fine, that was her choice. I said good-bye to the others and continued down the hall out to the lunch pavilion. It was a nice breezy day and kids were streaming in, carrying trays of food and cups of yogurt and icy drinks. I glanced over at the spot I knew so well, and there they were—the SF2s. Sean and Jared were on one side of the bench, wedged in between Ben Feldman and the General. Lauren was balancing a tray with three yogurts and climbing over the other bench to sit down. I paused, suddenly feeling unsure if I was going to be welcome. I hoped Lauren would look up and wave me over, but she was busy chatting with Brooke.

“You coming to join us?” said a voice from behind me. I turned around to see Spencer, balancing two cheeseburgers and a large drink on a tray.

“Oh, Spencer. Hi. I mean, hi, Spencer.” I heard myself gushing and tried to stop. “I was just wondering if it's okay to be at the table.”

“There's only one way to find out,” he said, flashing me a hint of dimple.

I followed him to the table, and when I got there, Lauren made a spot for me next to her.

“Sit here, Charlie,” she said. “I got you a yogurt. Small low-fat vanilla, no toppings, right? See, I haven't forgotten.”

I took a seat. Sean and Jared both put down their subs and stared at me, definitely not in a good way.

“So is everyone okay with this?” Jared said. He didn't even bother to say my name. I was just a “this.”

“Yup, we are,” Lauren said. “We decided that Charlie is coming back to the group.”

“She is? Why?” Jared asked.

“I have my reasons,” was all Lauren said. It wasn't exactly a declaration of love for me, but it was good enough. “So you two guys are just going to have to deal with it,” Lauren said with authority.

“What if we can't?” Sean answered, trying to stare her down. But Lauren was not going to back down. She just stared at Sean.

“Just grow up,” she snapped.

“Easy for you to say,” the General said to her, rising to the defense of his two friends. “You're not the one busting your butt varnishing the deck, sweeping sand off the tennis courts, and pulling up weeds like a gardener.”

“Why don't we take a vote on whether or not Charlie can stay?” Brooke said. “This is America, and we're a democracy after all.”

“Yeah,” Jillian jumped in. “Just like they do on
Teens Got Talent
. Last night they voted off that creepy girl who was a contortionist. She could totally dislocate both shoulders and then put them back in the sockets. It was disgusting.”

Everyone looked at me like I was going to suddenly stand up and do some kind of freaky body trick. It was so embarrassing. I was beginning to feel sorry that I had sat down at the table at all.

“Whoa, guys,” Spencer said, jamming in next to me on the bench. “Stop talking about Charlie like she's not here. We don't need to vote on anything. Charlie's our friend. Jared and Sean, you messed up and have to take the consequences. I say we move on.”

“All in favor raise your hand,” Brooke said.

“No, Brooke! You missed the whole point,” Spencer said. “We don't have to vote on this. You don't vote on what's the right thing to do. You just do it.”

“Listen to you,” Ben Feldman said. “The politician's son. When are you running for city council, Ballard?”

Everyone laughed, and suddenly, the tension broke. Jared and Sean went back to eating their sandwiches, Lauren passed me the yogurt, and before I knew it, everyone was talking about their plans for after school.

Lily asked me if I wanted to help shop for stuff to decorate the hats for Bethany's party. Lily's mom was taking her to one of her favorite vintage stores.

Lauren wanted to come along, too. And I was of course in.

As everyone finished lunch, Lauren told us about how impressed the principal was when she said I would be part of the club. As I ate my yogurt, Spencer on one side of me and Lauren on the other, bragging her head off about me, I couldn't believe how dramatically my life had suddenly improved. Everything I wanted was right there at that table. It was almost too good to be true.

After lunch, I went to Ms. Carew's fifth-period English. When I walked in, she smiled at me like we shared a secret, but never mentioned a word about what had happened at Truth Tellers the day before. Her quote of the day, which she always writes on the blackboard before class, was from a French writer named Pamela Kline.

How I feel about myself is more important than how I look. Feeling confident, being comfortable in your own skin—that's what really makes you beautiful
.

I had a feeling Ms. Carew had picked that quote especially for Sara. I glanced over at Sara, and she was writing it down in her black-and-white speckled notebook. Her hair was especially poufy and the curls bobbed up and down as she scribbled. It's weird, I thought, how no one but the Truth Tellers, and me, knew what was hiding under her hair. I was among the few people in the whole world who understood why that quote meant so much to her. I wasn't sure I wanted that information, but like it or not, I had it.

As soon as school let out, Lily's mom was waiting for us in a beautiful navy-blue convertible.

“You guys want the top down?” she asked as we climbed in.

“Duh,” Lily said.

Her mom laughed, pushed a button, and within seconds, the top lifted off, folded up, and tucked itself into the trunk. As we drove off, I saw Sammie walking with Alicia and Sara. I waved, but only Alicia waved back. Sammie pretended not to see me.

But I didn't give Sammie a second thought as we cruised down Pacific Coast Highway, our hair blowing in our faces and the radio blaring. The only thing that kept going through my head was:
Could this day get any better?

Believe it or not, it did.

Lily's mom, who designs swimsuits—or as she calls it, swimwear—took us to
Yesterday's Treasures,
her favorite vintage store in Venice, which is this funky area a couple miles down the beach from the club. The shelves were piled up to the ceiling with old clothes and flower vases and swatches of fabric and jewelry and buttons and weird sunglasses and anything else you could think of.

“This place is a treasure trove,” she said. “Dig in, girls, and see what you can find.”

Lily instructed us to look for old hats and interesting things she could use to decorate them with. I found a white sea captain's hat buried under a pile of moldy magazines, and a crazy-looking orange straw hat with a purple brim. I even pulled out a construction worker's bright-yellow hard hat. Lauren unearthed a glamorous little black velvet hat that had a lace veil in the front and a well-used Detroit Tigers baseball cap. Mrs. March had the find of the day, though—an old-school Girl Scout beanie with a little green tassel on the top. She thought that it might be from the 1970s. Lily spent most of her time collecting buttons and scarves and glittery jewelry that would make each hat original and fun.

After an hour, we had collected a big pile of stuff. Mrs. March bargained with Claude, the shop owner, who she seemed to know pretty well. They settled on a price of twenty-five dollars for everything.

“That was the most fun thing ever,” I said as we walked out carrying everything in brown grocery bags.

“I can't wait to show all our treasures to Bethany,” Lily said. “She's going to be so excited.”

“Let's go show her now,” Lauren suggested. “She texted earlier that she was at the club.”

I didn't want everyone going back there in case we'd run into Sammie. She was in such a bad mood, there's no telling what she'd say to them. But I couldn't think of a reason to say no, so we got in the car and Lily's mom dropped us off at the club. I was so relieved when we went inside and Sammie was nowhere in sight. Bethany was sitting at a table outside, drinking a bottle of water.

“How'd the shopping go?” she asked.

“Wait until I show you all the cool stuff we got,” Lily said to her. “We have enough for seven or eight hats, and I've already designed some others.”

“This is so amazing,” Bethany said. “Let's lay everything out.”

The two outside tables were reserved for the ladies bridge club, so we went inside the clubhouse. GoGo was in the kitchen, experimenting with kebab marinades for Bethany's party. She thought kebabs would go better with mini quiches than chicken drumettes. My dad was having a meeting in the living room with two men about possibly adding a locker room and resurfacing the tennis courts. They had plans and blueprints spread out all over the coffee table. No space was available.