class. But then, so will I. Doesn’t that balance things out?
I take my time fixing Nana’s breakfast. I take even more time fixing her lunch — tuna salad, which she loves. I even go ahead and change her sheets, a chore I usually put off for the end of the day. And I put a load of laundry in the washer and really scrub down the kitchen. I pause to admire our kitchen. It really is pretty cool, especially compared to our seventies condo back in Boston. I couldn’t believe it when I first saw this house. Everything was new and clean. The kitchen, with its dark cherry cabinets, granite slab countertops, and stainless-steel appliances, looked like something right out of a magazine. And we’d never had hardwood floors before. I think they look really elegant, and Mom plans to get an oriental rug for the entryway. Seriously, if it wasn’t for the Nana factor, I’d probably consider hosting a barbecue here just to help Jocelyn off the hook. Although it wouldn’t be as uptown as Kendra’s, I think I might possibly be able to pull it off with a certain amount of class.
But as I walk through the living room, where Nana is already seated in her pink electric-lift recliner, I reconsider. There’s no way I will offer to have the barbecue here. I feel sorry for Jocelyn, but she’ll have to fend for herself. Fortunately Nana has no sense of time and has no idea that I’m running late or even that it’s a school day. My plan is to miss all of first period, which is AP History, but I’m totally caught up so I’m not worried. If anyone asks, I’ll tell them I had a flat tire. In fact, that’s what I’ll tell Jocelyn too. Of course, she’ll ask why I didn’t call. I glance at my cell phone, still turned off and sitting on the breakfast bar. I’ll tell her my battery was dead. That’s easy enough.
“Bye, Nana,” I say as I sling my new Marc Jacobs bag over my shoulder. Mom’s actually letting me use this one since she got a Kate Spade pocketbook that’s to die for. (I’ll figure out a way to borrow that later.)
“Bye-bye, honey.” Nana wiggles her fingers in a wave, then turns back to watch the Martina McBride video.
I get to school in time for second period, and for the rest of the day I avoid Jocelyn. Fortunately I only see her once and that’s as I’m coming into the cafeteria. She’s sitting with the JV cheerleaders, and I’m thinking that’s probably a good thing. I sit with Kendra and her friends during lunch. It’s amazing how easy it is now. It’s like they’re really accepting me. But that’s where I hear the news.
“Jocelyn bailed on the barbecue,” says Meredith.
“I heard that,” says Kendra, shaking her head as if she’s disappointed.
“I knew she would,” says Sally in a vicious tone. “She’s such a baby. They shouldn’t let sophomores try out for varsity. It’s just wrong.”
Then they all go on about how girls should have to be at least juniors to be on varsity, and how it’s really Jocelyn’s fault that Kendra is still left out.
“But how did Jocelyn get out of it?” I finally ask. Okay, I’m curious to find out how Jocelyn escaped this horrible fate just in case they decide to force it back on me now.
“Didn’t you hear?” asks Kendra.
I shake my head.
“Her mother wrote a note.”
They all laugh as if this is hysterically funny.
“How lame is that?”
“Totally pathetic.”
“Poor Jocelyn,” says Kendra. “I think the stress may be getting to her.”
I nod and act like I’m with them. But at the same time, I’m thinking the stress is getting to me.
“Anyway …” Sally looks at me and I know something is up. “We’ve decided that you should go ahead and host the barbecue, Reagan. Are you okay with that?” She actually smiles at me like we’re good friends now.
“And I’ll help you with the details,” announces Kendra. “I won’t be coming, of course, since I’m only an alternate. But you’re my friend, Reagan, and I can help you
I take my time fixing Nana’s breakfast. I take even more time fixing her lunch — tuna salad, which she loves. I even go ahead and change her sheets, a chore I usually put off for the end of the day. And I put a load of laundry in the washer and really scrub down the kitchen. I pause to admire our kitchen. It really is pretty cool, especially compared to our seventies condo back in Boston. I couldn’t believe it when I first saw this house. Everything was new and clean. The kitchen, with its dark cherry cabinets, granite slab countertops, and stainless-steel appliances, looked like something right out of a magazine. And we’d never had hardwood floors before. I think they look really elegant, and Mom plans to get an oriental rug for the entryway. Seriously, if it wasn’t for the Nana factor, I’d probably consider hosting a barbecue here just to help Jocelyn off the hook. Although it wouldn’t be as uptown as Kendra’s, I think I might possibly be able to pull it off with a certain amount of class.
But as I walk through the living room, where Nana is already seated in her pink electric-lift recliner, I reconsider. There’s no way I will offer to have the barbecue here. I feel sorry for Jocelyn, but she’ll have to fend for herself. Fortunately Nana has no sense of time and has no idea that I’m running late or even that it’s a school day. My plan is to miss all of first period, which is AP History, but I’m totally caught up so I’m not worried. If anyone asks, I’ll tell them I had a flat tire. In fact, that’s what I’ll tell Jocelyn too. Of course, she’ll ask why I didn’t call. I glance at my cell phone, still turned off and sitting on the breakfast bar. I’ll tell her my battery was dead. That’s easy enough.
“Bye, Nana,” I say as I sling my new Marc Jacobs bag over my shoulder. Mom’s actually letting me use this one since she got a Kate Spade pocketbook that’s to die for. (I’ll figure out a way to borrow that later.)
“Bye-bye, honey.” Nana wiggles her fingers in a wave, then turns back to watch the Martina McBride video.
I get to school in time for second period, and for the rest of the day I avoid Jocelyn. Fortunately I only see her once and that’s as I’m coming into the cafeteria. She’s sitting with the JV cheerleaders, and I’m thinking that’s probably a good thing. I sit with Kendra and her friends during lunch. It’s amazing how easy it is now. It’s like they’re really accepting me. But that’s where I hear the news.
“Jocelyn bailed on the barbecue,” says Meredith.
“I heard that,” says Kendra, shaking her head as if she’s disappointed.
“I knew she would,” says Sally in a vicious tone. “She’s such a baby. They shouldn’t let sophomores try out for varsity. It’s just wrong.”
Then they all go on about how girls should have to be at least juniors to be on varsity, and how it’s really Jocelyn’s fault that Kendra is still left out.
“But how did Jocelyn get out of it?” I finally ask. Okay, I’m curious to find out how Jocelyn escaped this horrible fate just in case they decide to force it back on me now.
“Didn’t you hear?” asks Kendra.
I shake my head.
“Her mother wrote a note.”
They all laugh as if this is hysterically funny.
“How lame is that?”
“Totally pathetic.”
“Poor Jocelyn,” says Kendra. “I think the stress may be getting to her.”
I nod and act like I’m with them. But at the same time, I’m thinking the stress is getting to me.
“Anyway …” Sally looks at me and I know something is up. “We’ve decided that you should go ahead and host the barbecue, Reagan. Are you okay with that?” She actually smiles at me like we’re good friends now.
“And I’ll help you with the details,” announces Kendra. “I won’t be coming, of course, since I’m only an alternate. But you’re my friend, Reagan, and I can help you
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