When the bell for recess rang, everyone jumped out of their seats and lined up by the door. I had to be super careful on the stairs again on account of my slippery shoes and all the big kids racing to get outside. I started sliding over to the four-square game that the Rosemarys had started, trying to scuff up my soles even more.
“Cinderella! Cinderella!” my neighbor Louie called from the kindergarten play area.
I slid over to the fence that keeps the little kids safe from the big kids. “How’s school so far?”
“It’s great!” he yelled. “See you later, alligator.”
“Bye for now, dairy cow!” I yelled back.
I slid over to the four-square game where Hannah and Abby had joined the Rosemarys.
“What are you doing, Cinderella?” Rosemary T. stared at my sliding feet.
“I’m getting my shoes less slippery,” I said. “Can I play?”
“Wouldn’t you rather play with the kindergartners?” asked Rosemary T.
“I bet they’d all slide around the playground with you,” said Rosemary W.
The two of them giggled. I stopped sliding.
“What do you guys think about the new teacher?” Abby asked.
“He’s annoying,” said Rosemary T.
“He thinks he’s sooooo funny,” said Rosemary W., “and he’s not.”
“He sure likes your name, Cinderella,” said Hannah.
“So what does he know?” Rosemary T. said. Then she saw the new girl across the playground and started waving. “Erin! Over here, Erin!”
The new girl walked toward us slowly.
“Hi!” said Rosemary T. “Do you want to play four-square?”
“Maybe,” she said.
“I love your gladiator sandals,” said Rosemary T.
“Thanks,” said Erin.
“Did you get those around here or back home in Hollywood?” asked Rosemary T.
“Back home.”
“Too bad,” said Rosemary T. “I would love to have shoes like that.”
“Do you have pierced ears?” Rosemary W. asked.
“Yes,” said Erin.
“So do I!” Rosemary W. tucked her hair behind her ears so the red sparkly stones showed.
“Me too.” Rosemary T. turned her head right and left so her blue ones twinkled.
“I like your earrings,” Abby told the Rosemarys.
“We both got our birthstones,” said Rosemary W.
“I like yours too, Erin,” said Hannah.
“Those are awesome,” said Rosemary T. “I’ll get some like that when I can change mine.”
I looked over at Erin’s ears. She was wearing dangly peace signs. “I have a T-shirt kind of like your earrings,” I said.
“You do?” She stared at me very serious. I got a little nervous thinking maybe she didn’t like the idea that I had something the same as her.
“Take Hannah’s square.” Rosemary T. bounced the ball to Erin.
Erin let the ball bounce by her. “No thanks.” She looked at me very serious again.
“Cinderella, right?”
I swallowed. “Yes.”
“I need to talk to you,” she said.
“Okay.” Now I really was worried about my earring comment, which didn’t seem bad to me at all the more I thought about it.
Everyone looked at Erin. She didn’t say anything for a minute. “In private.”
I kind of gulped a little bit again. “Okay.”
She started walking away from us, toward the benches by the basketball nets. I followed after her, and we both sat down.
“Are you for some reason mad that I have a T-shirt like your earrings?” I asked.
“Why would I be mad about that?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” I said. “It just seemed like maybe you were.”
“I don’t care about my earrings,” she said.
“I would if I had earrings,” I said. “But probably mainly because I can’t have any yet.”
“Why not?” she asked.
“It’s a long story,” I said.
“Once upon a time?” Erin smiled.
I smiled back. “So what did you want to talk about in private?” I felt a little more brave now that I knew she wasn’t mad at me.
She looked at me very serious again, and I got back to being worried.
“I need advice,” she said.
“I’ve never been the new kid before,” I said.
“I have, tons of times,” she said. “I don’t need advice on that.”
“Oh,” I said. Then I got very, extremely excited, because I was just dying to give some advice. My favorite TV show is It’s Me or the Dog, which stars Victoria, who is always giving people advice about their dogs. I also like it when me and my Grandmother Smith read Dear Abby letters from the newspaper. We try to figure out what we would tell the person before we see what Abby has to say. But before I could find out more, the bell rang and recess was over.
By the time lunch finally came I could barely wait to talk to Erin. When we were washing our hands, Rosemary T. told Erin that she should sit with us at lunch, which was pretty nice. Rosemary T. isn’t the best at including everybody. It might mean I’d have to wait a little longer to hear about the advice Erin needed, but maybe she wasn’t feeling so private about it anymore. She might talk about it in front of other people now.
The line for milk moved very slow. When I finally headed to our table, there was a chair saved for me next to Rosemary T. At least I thought it was saved for me, but when I got there Rosemary T. said: “Sorry, Cinderella. We promised to save a place for Erin.”
“Oh. Okay.” I walked over to the other table. “Is this seat saved?” I asked Hilary. We were best friends in kindergarten, but we hadn’t been in the same classroom since.
“No,” she said. “Go ahead.”
“Thanks.” I sat down and tried to listen to Hilary and Katie talk about a video with two dogs and a cat in it. Usually I would have loved to hear all about it, but my insides were hurting like the dickens, so much that I couldn’t pay attention. The lunchroom was noisy, but even though I was in the middle of a super crowded table and a super crowded room, I felt alone. I chewed and tried to swallow and blink-blink-blinked my eyes. There was no way I was going to cry right then and there. No way with a capital N.
“Erin! Erin!” Rosemary T. yelled, and waved to her. Erin had just made it through the lunch line. She headed over to Rosemary T.’s table and was about to sit down; but then she looked around, saw where I was sitting, and headed over.
She sat right down next to me and didn’t ask if any places were saved or anything.
The alone feeling started to go away, and I could swallow again.
“What’s for lunch?” I hardly ever got to buy lunch, so I was very interested.
“Cheese pizza and pears and green beans,” she said.
“Yum and yum and yuck,” I said.
“What?” she asked, and then she got it. “Oh yeah. Yum and yum and yuck.”
“So what do you need advice on?” I whispered, in case she was still feeling private.
“On wicked stepsisters,” she whispered back.
“Hmm,” I said, very surprised.
“You know about them, right,” she whispered, “because of your name.”
“Hmm,” I said one more time.
“Because I’m about to get two of them, and I really need some expert help.”
I knew I should tell her that I didn’t know anything about wicked stepsisters and that I really got my name because of my shoe trouble. The thing was, I didn’t want her to get up and go sit with the Rosemarys or anywhere else. I also really liked the idea of giving someone advice, like I mentioned before. I just sat there and thought and thought. I guess I thought a little bit too long though, because Erin got tired of waiting.
“If you don’t want to help me, just say so,” she said.
That kind of woke me up. “I want to help you,” I said.
“Good,” she said very loud and final, and there was no getting out of it now.