Poor Melody

Melody cared so much about grades and Veronica was sick with guilt for letting her down about the project. She hadn’t met with her once, which was pretty much the worst thing you could do to Melody, other than criticize her singing voice or opera in general. Veronica knew she needed to apologize. She waited all morning until Melody was alone by her locker.

“Hi, Melody,” Veronica said.

“Are you mad at me?” Melody asked.

“Melody, no. I’m not mad at you,” Veronica said.

“My mother doesn’t think you’re a good friend,” Melody said. “She thinks you’re letting me do all the work.”

“I am. I’m sorry,” was all Veronica could muster. This conversation wasn’t relieving her of guilt. If anything, it was making it worse. And poor Melody had it all wrong. Veronica wasn’t the one who was mad. Melody was the one who should be mad but she was so nice, she blamed herself. Veronica had become the Cricket Cohen to Melody Jenkins’s Veronica. It was horrible.

“What gives, you guys?” Sarah-Lisa said. “Veronica, you have been, like, totally antisocial. Right, Athena?”

“What have you been doing, Veronica? Do you have a secret life?” Athena asked. There was an awkward silence.

“Um,” Melody said uncertainly, “that’s what we were just talking about.”

“Yeah,” Veronica said.

“Well, what’s with you?” Sarah-Lisa asked.

“Cadbury might be sick.”

“Oh no,” Athena said. “My mom was really sick last week.”

Athena and Sarah-Lisa went into Mr. Bower’s room for science. Nothing was going the way she wanted it to go. “Melody,” Veronica finally said, “you shouldn’t count on me. You should turn the project in as your own. I can’t do it with you.”

She thought clarifying that would make things better, but Melody looked like she’d been punched in the stomach.