On Monday, I noticed Devon didn’t have her bracelet on. I didn’t say anything and thought about taking mine off, but I didn’t want her to get mad. I asked her about the boys outside the movie theater. She said they had called her house at night, and she and India talked to them until midnight. I wondered if India had slept over two nights in a row, but she didn’t ask me what I did at night, so I kept my mouth shut. I asked Peyton not to say anything about me spending the night at her house.
“Devon gets kind of weird about stuff sometimes,” I said, and she nodded.
I waited for Devon at lunchtime, and she came over with Hana. She told Hana about the guys at the movies while we stood in line. I got stuck with the broccoli soup, but it didn’t matter because my stomach kind of hurt anyway. She and Hana walked to our usual table, but Ashanti called me over. Devon barely noticed when I walked over to Ashanti’s table.
“What’s wrong?” Ashanti asked. I looked over at Halle and Maggie who were busy looking at a magazine. I shrugged, and Ashanti told me to sit down. I started to say I had to sit with Devon, but I looked up and realized Devon hadn’t saved me a seat. Ashanti looked at my soup and gave me half of her ham sandwich and moved her potato chip bag toward me. I didn’t feel like talking, but she understood. Devon got up to go outside, and she raised her eyebrows at me and tilted her head toward the door for me to get up and join her. It reminded me of the look Peyton’s mom gave Truffles when she wanted her to go to the bathroom outside. I held up a chip to show her I was still eating, and she shrugged and left without me. Ashanti walked me back to class and asked if I wanted to come over to watch Brad and Colin after school.
I wasn’t sure where to sit when I got on the bus. Devon would think I was ignoring her if I sat with Ashanti, but Ashanti might get weird on me if I sat with Devon. I waited until the last minute to get on the bus, and by then, they were both sitting with other people. I ended up having to sit behind the bus driver. I probably would have tossed myself out the window if Ashanti hadn’t asked me to come over. Of course, I could never get the bus windows to slide down so I was probably safe.
Ashanti helped me with my math homework after we watched As the Days Roll On. I told her my dad would pay her since he had been bugging me to get a tutor, but she said it was no big deal.
“Unless your dad wants to pay me to be friends with you,” she said laughing. She asked me what was going on with Devon, and I lied and said everything was fine.
“Remember how she and India used to fight all the time last year?” she asked.
“I guess,” I said.
“I could have hit her at your party. I mean, come on, ‘If you guys are gonna watch TV all night then we’re gonna sleep in the other room,’” Ashanti said in a whiny voice. “It’s like, if I don’t get my way, I’m gonna take my ball and go home.”
I didn’t say anything.
“I know you’re friends with her, but she bugs me sometimes,” she said.
Ashanti showed me the new sweaters her mom had bought her for school. School clothes are almost always boring because we have a dress code, but these sweaters were soft and pretty. She had a light blue one, and it was fuzzy and beautiful. I held it in front of me, and she said it looked good.
“Light colors don’t look good on me.” I put it back on the bed, but she held it again.
“No, it looks pretty with your hair and eyes,” she said. “See?”
I looked in the mirror, and the color did make my blue eyes stand out. I used to have a baby blue sweater my grandma had bought me, but Ericka told me I looked pale in it, so I never wore it again even though Mom said Grandma had spent a lot of money on it. I wasn’t even sure where it was anymore.
“You can borrow it if you want,” she said.
“You should wear it first,” I said.
She shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. I was planning on wearing the white one tomorrow. Just don’t order the spaghetti.”
“I’ll get a sloppy joe instead,” I said, and she stuck her tongue out. “My hair looks so blah today,” I said.
“It looks fine. I have matching hair for it,” she said digging through her drawer. “Want me to put it in your hair?”
I sat on her bed, and she kneeled behind me and pulled the top section of my hair back, while leaving the rest down. It looked cute the way she had styled it, but I wanted my hair to look like hers — with the top part of her hair pulled back.
When I went home, Mom thought my hair looked cute.
“Just like Ashanti’s,” she said.
I went to my room and put the sweater in front of me. I liked the way my hair looked, but the barrette kept sliding down because my hair wasn’t as thick as Ashanti’s. I put it back the way Ashanti had done it the first time, and it did look better.