CHAPTER 19

Do You Want to Play with Us?

The next morning, when everyone is putting away their stuff in the coatroom, Marianna doesn’t ask me any questions about what happened at the library. She doesn’t call me Crybaby either. I’m still just Tweety to her.

And when I come back from bringing the milk crate to the lunchroom after milk break, there is a new eraser on my chair. It’s a pineapple with pokey green spikes on top. Picking it up, I see that the bottom of the pineapple is rubbed down and there are pencil smudges on it. I look at Marianna. She must use this eraser a lot. It’s not an orca, but I bet it’s her favorite.

“Thanks,” I say, sitting down. “I have three apples, two strawberries, and a banana in my eraser collection, but I don’t have a pineapple. And, thanks for not telling everyone what happened at the library yesterday.”

“You don’t have to thank me. We’re even,” Marianna says. “Besides, I never blab the big things.”

“Thanks anyway,” I say.

“You’re welcome anyway,” she replies.

I face forward in my chair and start to take out my pencil box so I can put the pineapple eraser inside, but Marianna taps my shoulder first. “Oh, and Tweety? FYI, I didn’t give you that eraser.”

I turn around. “Then who did?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t see.”

I wonder if it was Ruby. But I can’t think too much about it, because I’m too busy worrying about telling Amber the truth. I practice my lines, over and over in my head. When recess comes, I go outside by myself, and I keep walking until my feet take me to where Amber is talking to Marianna.

“UmAwkward silence,” I say.

“Tweety,” Marianna says. “What’s up?”

“I need to talk to Amber. Um, I mean, there’s something I have to say. Something important.”

Amber gives me a look. “Okay, go ahead.”

“But . . .” I start to say.

I have my line all ready, but what comes out is, “I didn’t go to Mount Rushmore this summer.”

“That’s what you wanted to tell me?” Amber looks confused. “What are you talking about, Wren?”

“Amber, there are things I haven’t told you. . . . Big things.”

“Big things?”

Marianna leans in. “Go ahead, Tweety. We’re listening.”

I look at Amber and try to remember which step comes next. Everything is getting mixed up. “I didn’t call you all summer. And I’m so sorry.”

“I already know that.”

This is not coming out right. I was supposed to save the apology for the end. I keep going.

“But there’s a reason I didn’t call. I was afraid . . . if I told you the truth . . . then all the awful stuff would spill out and nothing would ever be the same again.”

Amber sucks in her breath like she just got a paper cut. “What would never be the same?”

I grip the pineapple eraser in my hand. I thought it would make me feel braver, carrying something with me, and the pineapple was the first thing I saw in my desk. “My dad moved out this summer. He had to because my parents are getting a divorce. That’s why I had to go away.”

“Oh no!” Amber exclaims. “I can’t believe it!”

Marianna doesn’t say anything, but she nods, like it all makes sense.

“But, Wren,” Amber says, “it’s been weeks since school started and you never said anything!”

“I know. When we got to school, everything just got more and more complicated.”

Amber crosses her arms. “It doesn’t seem that complicated to me.”

“I just felt so confused. Over the summer, I had all these big questions and no answers. And then when we got to school, and nobody seemed to know—not even Ms. Little—I thought: What would happen if I just didn’t tell anyone anything? What if my parents get back together? What’s the point of telling the truth if it’s only temporary?” I look at the eraser in my hand, blinking away the sting in my eyes. “You were suddenly best friends with Marianna. And I thought, what if I tell you the truth and you never speak to me again? I’m so sorry, Amber.”

Marianna squeezes my arm. “It’s okay, Tweety,” she says.

But Amber just stands there, staring at the eraser in my hand.

The list said it might help to give the other person a gift. I hold out the pineapple eraser to Amber. “I’m really sorry,” I tell her again.

Amber shifts. Then she says, “Wren, I gave you that pineapple eraser.”

My eyes go wide. “You did?”

Amber nods.

“OhEmGee,” Marianna whispers. “This is so yin-yang.”

“I wanted to make you a friendship bracelet last night,” Amber tells me, “but I didn’t have any orange gum wrappers. That’s your favorite color now, right? I saw it on your All About Me! poster, plus most of your notebooks are orange this year, and so is your pencil box and your new sneakers. Nobody in my house had any good gum wrappers to make a bracelet, and it was too late to go to the store, but then my mom told me pineapples are a symbol of friendship, so—”

“I knew that,” Marianna interrupts. “Reuben is bananas for pineapples.”

“So Slate ran to the pantry and came back with a can of pineapple for you.” Amber laughs a little. “Then Ivory disappeared to our room and brought back the pineapple eraser. It was beat up, but she still made me trade five of my best jellies for it. What else could I do? I really wanted to give you something because . . . the thing is . . . I miss you, Wren.”

I gulp. “You do?”

“I bawled All. Summer. I thought you didn’t like me anymore. I’m sorry about your mom and dad and everything, but I’m So. Glad. We’re still friends!”

Amber takes my hand and squeezes it super-tight. The pineapple pokes my fingers, but I don’t mind. I squeeze her hand back even tighter.

Marianna clears her throat.

We look at her.

“This is so awkward, Am,” she says, “but I’ve got a big secret to tell you too.”

“What is it?” Amber asks.

Marianna purses her lips. “You won’t believe this, but I don’t actually live in a big house. I live in a little cottage behind it. It’s even smaller than your house, Am! Tweety saw it the other day. And there’s something else I need to tell both of you . . .”

Marianna looks from Amber to me. “My mom isn’t moving here right away. She promised she would, but sometimes promises get broken. And, the truth is, I only have one best friend in Seattle. At least, I did. I don’t think we are best friends anymore.”

Marianna ducks her eyes.

I reach over and take her hand too. Amber takes the other one.

*   *   *

We find Phoebe and Eleanor by the swings and Marianna tells them the truth about her house and her mom. Then I tell them the truth about the divorce.

“That’s why I have to ride the bus after school on Fridays,” I explain. “My dad is living in a cabin on the other side of the lake. I stay with him on the weekends.”

“Ohmygosh!” Eleanor says. “That’s such a bummer, Wren. My aunt and uncle got one of those. A divorce, I mean.”

Phoebe nods. “So did my mom’s friend. She had to sell their house and move into a tiny apartment.”

“But a cabin sounds like fun!” Eleanor continues. “We could pretend it’s the olden days and we’re pioneer girls!”

Phoebe starts pumping on her swing. “Our horses would love that! We could get your dad to build us a stable!”

“That’s silly,” Marianna says. “We can build a pretend stable by ourselves. We can build a whole castle, if we want to. I’ll be the queen.”

I hear a snort-laugh and look toward the twisty slide. Ruby is sitting at the top of it, shaking her head at Marianna.

Marianna squints at Ruby. “What’s so funny, Ruby Red Punch? Don’t you think I would make a good queen?”

Ruby snickers. “A drama queen, maybe.”

Marianna squints harder.

I smile at Ruby. “Do you want to play with us?” I call to her.

Ruby grins. “I’ll be right down.” Then she pushes off and twists down the slide.

“Fine, she can play with us,” Marianna says as Ruby walks over and stands next to me. “But she’ll have to wait her turn.” Marianna grabs the last empty swing, backs up, and takes off, flying.