I keep my magic cup next to my bed. Even though it doesn't jiggle or glow or do any of the usual magical stuff, I like seeing it there. And I like remembering who gave it to me.
I also like going to school because Stacey uses my purple gel pen to write me more notes. I write notes to her, too. Plus, I draw more pictures. By the time two weeks have gone by, I've drawn her three magical cows, two ballet dancers, and one smiling monkey. I don't know how she has time to keep checking the secret stone with Jenna always around, but I'm glad she does.
Then, before school one Friday morning, I check the secret stone and find this note from her.
Dear Cordelia,
I couldn't wait to tell you! My mom called last night and she's coming to see this weekend. We're going to a movie and out to eat and everything. I'm going to show her all the, pictures you gave me. I know she'll like them. I told her about the story we wrote together. She said it made her sad that the girls were lost in the forest. But she was glad they had each other.
What are you doing this weekend?
Anastasia
I pull a piece of paper out of my backpack and write my reply.
Dear Anastasia,
I'm glad you get to see your mom. Is your dad busy traveling? My dad will be traveling this weekend, too, so me and my mom will probably cook stuff he doesn't Like to eat and watch movies that make him yawn.
I bet you miss your parents when they're away. I know I do. I miss Elizabeth, too, even though I'm starting to get used to her being gone.
Cordelia
Later that morning, during silent reading, I overhear Jenna whispering to Stacey.
"But why can't you go to a movie this weekend?"
Stacey fidgets behind her book. "Um ... because my aunt and I have something planned."
"So?" Jenna says. "Skip it."
Stacey turns a page in her book and whispers, "I can't."
Jenna huffs and snaps her book shut.
Later that afternoon, I find another note in the secret stone.
Dear Cordelia,
Actually, my dad doesn't travel very much. Neither does my mom. I miss them a lot, even though I like living with my grandma. She tries to make me laugh every day.
I miss my old friends, too. Especially Kate. She was funny, like you. One time, at lunch, she told a joke and I laughed so hard milk came out of my nose! I don't recommend trying this.
Write to me next week!
Anastasia
I think about the note from Anastasia while I help my mom get supper ready that night. As I chop up a green pepper for tacos, I say, "Mom? I need a good joke. One that will make someone really laugh."
My mom thinks for a minute while she drains a can of black olives. Then she says, "Why did the chicken cross the road?"
"Why?" I ask.
"To get to the other side," she replies.
I roll my eyes. "That's the oldest joke in the world, Mom."
My mom just shrugs. "Better ask your dad when he calls tonight. He's the joke expert."
Later, when the phone rings, I answer it. It's my dad calling from his hotel.
"So what have you and Mom been up to?" he asks.
"We made tacos with green peppers and black olives," I say.
"Sorry I asked," he says back. "What else?"
"We watched a movie about this lady who goes to the grocery store to buy pork chops and ends up falling in love with her butcher."
My dad yawns.
When he's done yawning, I say, "Dad? I need a joke."
"What kind of joke?" he asks.
"Any kind," I say. "For someone who needs a laugh."
My dad is quiet. Then he asks, "Is this someone a friend from school?"
I think for a moment. "Sort of," I say.
My dad is quiet again. Then he clears his throat and says, "Why did the taco cross the road?"
I sigh. "Don't you mean chicken?"
"Nope," he says. "Taco."
"Okay," I say. "Why did the taco cross the road?"
I can practically see my dad's goofy grin as he replies, "It was taped to the chicken."
I roll my eyes. "Sorry I asked," I say.
My dad laughs.
Just before I go to bed, I write my note to Anastasia.
Dear Anastasia,
Here's a joke for you. (I hope you aren't drinking milk.)
Why did the taco cross the road?
Answer: It was taped to the chicken.So it isn't the best joke. I hope it makes you Laugh anyway.
Cordelia
P.S. Your grandma sounds nice.
P.P.S. I think it's better to have a nice grandma than a rich aunt.
On Monday morning, I hide the note in the secret stone. When I get inside the school, Jenna, Brooke, Meeka, and Jolene are giggling in the hallway. They don't even notice when I walk past them.
I go into the classroom. Randi and some of the boys are playing a game on the computer. Mr. Crow is writing the week's schedule on the board. He's already written Math quiz and Book reports due under Tuesday and Thursday. Under Friday he writes Paint pageant windows.
Stacey isn't around, so I hurry and find a scrap of paper in my desk. I write the letter A on it. I think about the chicken joke I wrote for her. And draw a dancing chicken under the A.
I toss the paper onto her desk just as the bell rings. Jenna, Brooke, Meeka, and Jolene pile into the classroom. Stacey piles in, too.
"So that's my plan," Jenna says to the others. "You spend the night at my house on Friday and we all go to the Potato Parade together on Saturday."
"I'll have to ask if it's okay," Meeka says.
"Me, too," Jolene adds.
Jenna narrows her eyes. "Just tell your parents you have to spend the night. Say we're getting ready for the window-painting contest."
Meeka and Jolene nod obediently. Brooke nods, too. Stacey is about to nod, but then she glances at me. I pull my math book out of my desk and pretend to be very interested in long division.
"What about Ida?" I hear Stacey whisper to Jenna.
"What about her?" Jenna asks.
"Aren't you going to invite her, too? And Randi?"
"This party is for my best friends," Jenna says.
"But—," Stacey starts to say.
"Besides," Jenna interrupts, glancing over her shoulder at me, "you're busy this weekend, aren't you, I-duh."
I glance up from my book. "Yes, Jenna," I say. "If you're planning a sleepover, I'm busy."
"See?" Jenna says, as she herds the others to her cluster. "She can't come."
Stacey is about to say something back to Jenna, but then she sees the dancing chicken on her desk.
"What's that?" Jenna asks.
"Oh, it's nothing," Stacey says, crumpling up the paper. "Just a ... a note."
I gulp.
"A note?" Jenna says. "Who from?"
"A boy, I bet," Jolene says. Meeka giggles and nods.
"No, it's not from a boy," Stacey says. "It's from ... um ... my aunt."
"Your aunt?" Jenna says, grabbing the note from Stacey and uncrumpling it.
Stacey nods. "See?" she says, pointing to the note. "The A stands for Aunt."
Jenna gives Stacey a look. "Then what does the dancing chicken stand for?" she asks.
"Um ... it's a secret code for ... for..."
"For what?" Jenna persists.
"For it's none of your business," I hear myself mumble.
Jenna whips around so fast her braids fly off her shoulders. Meanwhile, Stacey snatches the note from her hand and hurries with it to the wastebasket.
Brooke, Jolene, and Meeka slip quietly away. But Jenna just stands there, glaring at me. "From her aunt, huh?" she finally says. "I bet."
I see the letter C on Stacey's desk right after our second recess. Jenna didn't let Stacey out of her sight all day, so I don't know how she managed to get my note and hide one for me. But right after school I run to the secret stone and find one.
Dear Cordelia,
Thanks for the joke! It did make me laugh. Here's a poem for you:
There once was a girl named Cordelia,
Who had a delicious i-dee-lia.
She cooked up a pot,
Of beans, spicy hot,
Then put them inside a tor-tee-lia!
Ha-ha.Anastasia
P.P.S. I think it's better to have a secret friend than a mean friend.
As I read Anastasia's poem, I notice there are little stars around Cordelia, just like the stars I painted on the whale rock I left at Jenna's house. I wonder what happened to that rock. Jenna probably uses it for target practice on Rachel.
I also notice that Stacey calls me her secret friend.
I wonder if secret friends can be best friends, too.