The Friendship Pact

Last spring Veronica and Cricket had thought wearing a uniform was cool. Cricket had tried to get her parents to let her apply to Randolf, but they said it wasn’t their type of school. The day Veronica got into Randolf she went to Cricket’s house and they designed their own school uniforms. Cricket’s was red-and-white-striped and Veronica’s was a solid lime-green shirt with a navy blue skirt and a pink vest. Then they swore by secret ceremony they would be friends forever. Like everything with Cricket, it began with promise and ended with doubt.

“Can we make it official?” Veronica asked.

“You mean, you don’t think it’s enough to say that we will be friends forever?”

“I don’t know,” Veronica said even though she knew it wouldn’t be enough, especially with Cricket. But Cricket surprised Veronica by suggesting they make a contract. Cricket dictated. Her father was a lawyer. Veronica wrote in her best script. She took special care with the expressions: hereby stated, such as, and in conclusion. After they signed and dated it, Cricket said, “We have to drink to it now or it isn’t official. My parents always have a drink after signing anything.” In the kitchen, they created a friendship cocktail. They poured lemonade and orange juice and seltzer into a pitcher and stirred it.

“Mmm,” Cricket said, tasting it from the spoon, “but it’s missing something.”

“Nesquik?” Veronica said.

“No. Gross. Wait, I know. We have to spit into it. Then it will really be official.” Cricket stood on a chair and spit into the pitcher. Veronica watched rivulets of saliva slide down Cricket’s chin and drop into their concoction. She wasn’t looking forward to drinking it. But she didn’t say anything because she didn’t want to hurt Cricket’s feelings or ruin their friendship pact. Cricket climbed down and gestured for Veronica to climb up.

“Are you sure it’s okay to stand on the fancy chairs?” Veronica asked.

“Yes. I do it all the time,” Cricket said. So Veronica, egged on by Cricket, climbed on the upholstered chair.

Just as Veronica spit into the pitcher of friendship cocktail, Cricket’s mother walked into the kitchen.

“Get your feet off my dining room chair this instant! Are you spitting? Veronica Morgan, stop that right now!” Then Mrs. Cohen took the pitcher and poured the friendship cocktail into the kitchen sink.

Cricket should have said, “Mom, it was my idea.” Although Veronica was afraid of Mrs. Cohen, so maybe Cricket was too.

Cricket’s mother made a big show of cleaning out the entire kitchen sink with bleach as though the whole place was contaminated. When she was finished, she gave them plain apple juice and told them to drink that in the dining room with a coaster. When Veronica got home, she realized they had only made one copy of their friendship contract, and it was at Cricket’s house. Veronica had nothing in writing; Cricket had it all.