Avalanche Dance by Ellen Schwartz

that it all fell apart. She was having a sleepover – Molly, Susie, Carley, Janelle, plus a couple of other girls. They were going to make mini pizzas, eat birthday cake, open presents, and – grand surprise – do karaoke with a machine her parents had rented in Norse River.
    Molly came over early to help Gwen move furniture. They carried the coffee table to the corner, pushed the easy chair aside, then moved the couch, grunting with each heave, laughing at the mystery objects that showed up beneath it: two of Percy’s Orcs, which, although he wouldn’t admit it, he still played with from time to time; a library book due a year ago; a picture of Gwen and Molly at about age seven, arms around each other, grinning gap-toothed smiles.
    “Remember that? We both lost teeth eating corn on the cob,” Gwen said, blowing dust off the picture.
    Molly nodded. “My cob got all bloody. Yuck!”
    They laughed.
    When they’d shoved the couch against the living room wall, Molly gestured at the buffet next to it.
    “Hey, Gwennie, look at that.”
    “What?”
    “That.” Molly pointed to a cluster of liquor bottles standing on a shelf.
    Gwen looked. There were a couple of bottles of wine; a squat,curvy one filled with Irish cream, and a tall, rectangular one of vodka.
    An uneasy feeling prickled Gwen’s insides. “What about it?”
    Molly leaned close. “What do you say we snitch a little from each? For later?”
    Gwen smiled at her. “You’re kidding, right?”
    “Come on, it’ll be fun. Give our karaoke a bit of a kick.” Giggling, holding an imaginary mic to her lips, she shook her hips like a rock star.
    Gwen stared at her. “You’d steal from my parents?”
    Molly’s smile faded. “Oh, come on, Gwen, we’ll just take a little. They’ll never know.”
    Something dropped in Gwen’s stomach. “I can’t believe you said that.”
    “It’s no big deal. Everybody does it.”
    “Not me! Maybe your new friends do, but not me.”
    “No kidding,” Molly said in a sour voice. “You don’t do anything.”
    “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    “You’re no fun anymore.”
    Gwen’s face felt warm. “Because I won’t steal booze from my parents?”
    “Give me a break. You make it sound like a crime.”
    “It’s wrong!”
    Molly rolled her eyes. “You’re such a goody-goody, Gwen.”
    “I am not!”
    “You are so.”
    “You think it’s so cool to drink and get high, but it’s not, it’s stupid –”
    “How would you know? You never try it. It’s boring …” Molly trailed off.
    “Boring being with me?”
    “Yeah!”
    “Then why don’t you go hang out with your cool friends? I’m sure
they’re
not boring.”
    “You better believe it.”
    “Then go.”
    “Okay, I will.”
    “And don’t come back!”
    “I won’t!”
    She left, slamming the door.
    Somehow, Gwen got through the party. When her friends asked where Molly was, she said, “Oh … she got sick all of a sudden.”
    “Really?” Janelle sounded skeptical.
    Gwen oohed and aahed over her birthday presents and even forced herself to sing “Y.M.C.A.” with the others, doing all the movements and laughing along.
    The next morning, after everyone left, she climbed back into bed and cried.
    All that summer, Gwen waited for Molly to call, to come flying over on her bike, to apologize.
    She didn’t.
    Several times she saw Molly in a throng of other kids, at the beach, at the store.
    She turned away.
    One day Percy asked, “Where’s Molly? I miss her.”
    Gwen turned on him. “She wasn’t
your
friend!”
    Percy staggered back a step. “I was just asking.”
    “I don’t know. And I don’t care!”
    Now, sitting on her bed with her arms wrapped around her knees, Gwen thought bitterly that she’d finally gotten her wish. Molly was back. Only now Gwen didn’t want her here. And for sure Molly didn’t want to be here. They had nothing to say to each other. It was beyond awkward, it was humiliating.
    Gwen lay down and clutched