The next day, I’m telling Siobhan and Mariah about my horrible bus trip and how it seems that there’s no way I can stay at Holy Name, that I’m going to have to go to Carey High near the trailer park.
“I bet the public school won’t be all that different,” Mariah says. “Just no religion classes. Will you still go to church?”
“Of course,” I answer. “Just because I live too far away to get to a Catholic high school doesn’t mean I’m turning into a godless heathen.”
“I didn’t mean it that way …”
“Well, I should hope not.”
“I wish I could go to the public school,” Siobhan says.
“Why?”
“I’d really like to lose this uniform.” I haven’t even thought about that part. “I don’t know what I’ll wear. Probably I’ll put on the wrong thing and everyone will think I’m a geek.” It’s one more thing for me to worry about.
“I know what I’d wear,” says Siobhan.
“I can just guess: a short skirt and a plunging neckline to show off your boobs.”
She looks offended. “You’re just jealous because you don’t have any.”
I don’t even bother replying. Mom and I are moving on Friday, so this will be my last week in school with Siobhan. I don’t want to end up having a fight with her.
It’s a good thing that I don’t, because she can be very nice sometimes.
On my last day, just as we’re finishing lunch, she says she has to get something from her locker. We’re sitting at a table with a bunch of the other girls from our class, and when she leaves, they all start acting a bit weird. They keep looking toward the door she went through, then exchanging sideways glances.
A few minutes later, Siobhan comes back, carrying a cake tin with a plastic lid. She sets it down in front of me, and everyone yells, “Surprise!”
She takes the lid off.
The cake has cream-colored icing and she’s drawn a face on it. The eyes are outlined in brown icing, but the irises are filled in green, like my eyes. The mouth is pink and sad. She has made blue tears below the eyes.
I take one look at it and start to cry.
Siobhan’s face falls. “It’s supposed to make you feel better,” she says. “I made it myself. I thought you’d like it.”
“I love it,” I say between sobs. “It’s a beautiful cake. You’re the best friend in the world.”
“Hey! A cake! Do we get some?” Jason has come up behind us and is looking over my shoulder.
Siobhan jumps. He shouldn’t sneak up on her like that. Brad and Thomas are there too. The three of them always hang together. I keep my face turned from them and wipe my eyes and nose on a napkin so they won’t see I’ve been crying. I don’t have to worry. No one notices me. They’re all busy talking.
“Siobhan baked Lucy a good-bye cake,” says Mariah.
“You baked it yourself?” Jason asks. He’s smiling at Siobhan, and I can almost see her heart beating right through her shirt. She has a major crush on him. She says she doesn’t, but her blushing and giggling are a dead giveaway.
“I’m a multitalented girl,” she says. “If the three of you behave, we might even let you have a piece.” She doesn’t have to offer twice.
“Cool, I’ll get a knife and plates,” Jason says, and he heads off to find them.
When he gets back, he hands Siobhan the knife, and she starts cutting the cake. The boys are hanging over the table like a flock of vultures. Who’s this cake for anyway? I don’t appreciate these guys barging in.
Siobhan gives me the first piece. “This is for Lucy, who we’re going to majorly miss.”
Then she cuts pieces for the other girls and for Jason and his friends. The boys’ pieces are bigger than mine, but I don’t get time to worry about how unfair that is because Jason holds up his piece of cake and says, “To Lucy!”
All the kids hold up their pieces of cake like they’re toasting me. I almost start crying again.