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“My mom said I could have a sleepover for my birthday,” Jackie announced to the four of us sharing the shaded end of the lunch table. “I started making invitations last night. Only nine people can come.”
Jackie had this tendency to be, well, snotty. I didn’t like her very much, but everyone else liked her, so what choice did I have but to pretend that Jackie was okay?
“Nine girls. That’s easy.” LaQuita figured it out, using her purple-tipped fingers. “Us four, of course. Invite Patty because she’ll bring her make-up. Oh, and Tricia, because if she comes the boys will try to spy on us.”
“The boys will come either way,” Cathy said. “They’ll try to scare us like they did at Stacy’s party.”
Jackie looked over at the boys sitting impatiently with finished lunches, waiting for the whistle that allowed everyone to get up and play in the yard. She sneered. “I don’t want any boys coming over at all. They ruin everything.”
“Not everything,” Stacy said, grinning. LaQuita smacked her lightly on the back of her head.
After taking a long sip from her juice box, Jackie looked up at me and nodded. “What do you think, Heidi, Heidi, Heidi Ho? Who should I invite?”
I put down my sandwich and avoided Jackie’s eyes. “Is this a test?” I asked after I swallowed a bite.
Unfortunately, Jackie heard me. “Do you have a problem?”
“No,” I said quickly. “I just think you should pick whoever you want. It doesn’t matter to me.”
“What if I don’t invite you?” Jackie threatened.
“Then I won’t go,” I answered. I tossed the rest of my sandwich in the trashcan. It was a shot none of the other girls could make. One of the boys called over, “Nice one, Hide!”
“Maybe you shouldn’t invite Heidi,” Stacy suggested. She was such a popularity leech. “She’s just like a boy but not in the fun ways.”
I adjusted the straps on my overalls. I really didn’t care what Stacy thought.
Did I?
Cathy leaned over and whispered into my ear, “You’re ruining this for us.”
It took some effort, but I prevented myself from rolling my eyes. “I’m not trying to cause a fight,” I explained to the other girls. “It just doesn’t matter to me who you invite to your party. If you need nine girls, invite your two sisters, the four of us, Patty, and Tricia. There.”
“Not a bad list,” LaQuita admitted. She was braiding Stacy’s straight brown hair so they could look like twins. It was an impossible feat, however, since LaQuita’s hair was short, black, and curly.
The whistle blew, and the boys took off like dogs released from their leashes. They headed for the basketball court. I wanted to go too, but when I motioned to get up, Jackie snapped at me, “We’re not done, Hide.”
Uncomfortably, I settled back into my part of the picnic table bench. I straddled it so both of my canvas tennis shoes touched the floor. The discarded piece of aluminum foil on the table in front of me became a ball for me to play with between my knees on the bench. The other girls were still talking about the party. I wasn’t listening.
“Do any of you want to play dodgeball?” I interrupted.
Jackie scowled at me. LaQuita scrunched up her lips and nose. Stacy swiped her bangs out of her eyes so I could more effectively see the displeasure in them. Cathy looked at the table, embarrassed.
“Not today,” Jackie said after a moment. “We’re not doing that anymore.”
So why was I even sitting with them? Dodgeball was the only reason I even got inducted into the popular circle. A year before I couldn’t have cared less what Jackie or anyone else thought of me. In fifth grade I’d been best friends with Bobby Cippola, a shrimpy guy but a great runner. Bobby moved over the summer, basically leaving me alone in a world of girls who didn’t play sports and boys who didn’t like being around girls.
Two weeks after school started, I got to know Cathy Liang. She was a sweet, shy girl who had always been pretty quiet and unnoticed. So, it was a surprise when I saw her beating kid after kid on the handball court one morning during recess. She had some definite skill at the game, and she even made me sweat as I attempted to get her out. Our match went on so long that everyone waiting for a turn finally gave up and walked away. Only the bell made us quit, and we called it a tie. We’d been friends ever since. Cathy soon began calling me her best friend, but I had trouble going that far.
Cathy had an obsession with Jackie, LaQuita, and Stacy. More than anything in the world, she wanted to hang out with them. Surprisingly, it was me who made it possible.
During September and October, the sixth-grade teachers had all four sixth-grade classes play dodgeball tournaments during P.E. It was really popular among the boys, and at lunch they’d continue whatever game they’d started during class. The girls hated to play because the boys threw the ball so hard that it hurt.
I got frustrated by the whole situation. Girls played like wimps in class just so they’d get out quicker and didn’t play at all during lunch. To solve the problem, I asked my teacher whether I could start an all-girl dodgeball tournament. No boys allowed.
Well, nothing grabs the interest of popular girls more than a “no boys allowed” rule. Girls came running. In fact, the girls’ tournament was more of a hit than the boys’ tournament. It was great for a while. I became instantly popular, and I took Cathy happily along for the ride. It helped that she was really good at dodgeball too.
By December, whoever wasn’t playing the game was watching it. Every day a big crowd gathered around to cheer or jeer us on. Little by little the boys started abandoning their own games and came to watch ours. That left the super athletes like Tim, Rick, and Martin out on the fields by themselves.
On the morning everything changed, those three guys were standing to the side of the court, Tim tossing a basketball back and forth in his hands. I could hear him trying to convince his friends to come join him at the basketball court, but no one was listening to him. Our dodgeball game had come down to just Jackie and me facing off. Whoever got hit first would lose. I had the ball in my hands and threw it hard. Jackie ducked out of the way just in time, but her team wasn’t fast enough behind her to catch it. The ball snapped right into the hands of Martin. An evil grin spread across his face, and after a nod from Tim, he sailed that ball right at Jackie. It got her square in the back. The smacking sound was painful to hear, and I could only imagine what it felt like. Jackie crumbled to her knees on the asphalt and started screaming and crying.
The lunch monitor, Ms. Tillman, came running to see what the problem was. Practically the whole sixth grade saw what happened, so the boys didn’t get away with it. They sure tried, though. While LaQuita and Stacy helped Jackie to the nurse, Martin, Tim, and Rick went into this whole sob story about how the all-girls dodgeball game wasn’t fair. Boys should get to play if they wanted to.
Ms. Tillman agreed with the boys. Before sending them to the tables to sit out the rest of recess, she told me, “You have to be fair and let everyone play who wants to.”
“But you don’t understand . . .” I tried.
“The boys play or no game,” Ms. Tillman said. So, the games petered out. No one wanted to play if the boys were going to ruin it. Sad thing was, the boys really never had any intention of playing at all. They just wanted to stop the girls’ tournament. And they succeeded.
Now I was stuck at the lunch table every lunch hour, every recess, every free time, gossiping and chatting. The girls braided each other’s hair. They painted each other’s fingernails. They traded shoes. I didn’t ever participate. I just watched. Lucky me.
“When is your birthday, Hide?” Stacy asked.
I snapped out of my reverie. “February 16th. Why?”
“Are you going to have a party?”
I looked up through the strand of hair that had crept across my face. All the girls were eagerly looking at me. Had they all been planning each other’s parties the whole time? I really had been zoning, hadn’t I?
“No, I probably won’t,” I answered. “I was thinking about going to a hockey game with my dad and brother.”
“You know,” LaQuita said, leaning across the table, “you only get so many chances a year to throw a party.”
“True,” Jackie agreed. “And only so many chances a year to force your friends to buy presents for you.”
I smiled weakly. “I just don’t think I want a party this year. I’d rather go to yours.”
“I think you should throw a party,” Cathy said. “It would give us all a chance to see where you live.”
“You don’t know where she lives?” Jackie said to Cathy. It was an amazing discovery for her. “You’re her best friend. You’ve never been to her house?”
“She’s never invited me,” Cathy said quietly. With Jackie it was difficult to know how to respond sometimes. It was hard to tell whether she was ripping on you or just asking you an honest question.
“Has Heidi been to your house?” LaQuita pressed, those deep brown eyes of hers focusing more on me than Cathy.
“Yes, I have,” I answered for my friend to remind them all that I was still there and able to speak.
“So what’s up with that?” Jackie asked.
“I don’t have a lot to do at my house,” I told them. “Cathy’s closer to school, and she has a pool and better video games. It’s no big deal.”
“No big deal,” Jackie said, “but hardly fair.”
“Personally, I think it stinks,” Stacy said.
“Well, Cathy, I think you should go over to Heidi’s house. Find out what she’s been hiding from you.” Jackie looked at LaQuita and Stacy and burst out laughing. “Get it? Hide’s hiding something. Ha ha! Yes! You’ve earned your nickname at last, Hide.”
“I feel so honored,” I said under my breath so none of them would hear me. I didn’t think I was hiding anything from them on purpose. Not really. I hadn’t told any of them things about my home life because no one needed to know about it. It wasn’t their business. After all, I didn’t know much about their lives outside of school.
“So, ladies,” Jackie said, calming down from her hysterics, “when will the big playdate be?”
Cathy looked at me and shrugged. “I don’t care.”
I studied my broken fingernails.
“Okay, I’ll decide,” Jackie announced. “You two shall have a playdate at Hide’s house on Friday afternoon, starting at 3:30. I think it should be a sleepover too.”
I hated how Jackie kept emphasizing the word “playdate” like we were still in kindergarten.
“It’s up to Cathy when she’d like to hang out with me,” I said. I knew Cathy wouldn’t want to sleep over once she met. . .
“Then it’s set,” Jackie said, hitting the table with the palm of her hand. “Oh, I’m so excited. Be sure to tell us all about it, won’t you, Cathy?”
“I’m sure there won’t be much to tell,” Cathy said.
I turned away from the girls and stared out at the playground. I’m sure you’ll have plenty to tell, I thought. More than enough.