Thursday. Eleven more days.
After school, Ardis came with me to study history at my house. When we got there, Reggie was too busy leaping at me to leap at Ardis. She backed into the kitchen but stood in the doorway, watching us and smiling, which I thought was a good sign.
“It seems like fun,” she said. “I wish . . .”
“If a genie gave you one wish, what would it be?” I asked when Reggie calmed down.
“To live forever, I guess. Maybe not to be scared of animals. I don’t know. Maybe for my mother not to be such a cleanliness freak. What would yours be?”
I paused. “Maybe for people to like me. Let’s work in the kitchen. Maud’s in the bedroom. I have to get my history book.” I left before she could say anything.
When I came back, we started studying. And I found out that one of Suzanne’s rumors was true—Ardis was awful at history.
“How do you remember which civilization came first?”
“I don’t know how. I just do.”
“Great. Big help.”
“Let me think. We need a memory thing. You know, a nemo . . .”
“A mnemonic device?”
“Yeah. Like, listen. Mesopotamian came first. That’s an ‘m.’ Then Babylonian. That’s a ‘b.’ Assyrian, Egyptian . . .”
Ardis wrote down the initials.
“. . . Minoan, Mycenaean, Greek, and Roman. What do we have?”
“M B A E M M G R.” She turned her notebook toward me, and we both stared at it.
“Um,” I said. “Most Baboons Are Eaten by Mad Mongooses—mongeese?—in Green Robes.”
“Everything is about animals with you,” she said, laughing. “How’s Many Babies Are Eaten by Mad Mothers in . . . uh . . . Gray Raincoats?”
“We must be hungry. ‘E’ doesn’t only have to stand for ‘eat.’” I pulled a box of pretzels out of the cabinet over the sink. “Can you think of any more?”
“Give me a minute. . . . Here’s one. My Brother And Every Musical Man Grow Radishes.”
“I like it,” I said.
“It doesn’t have any extra words. I won’t go nuts trying to figure out what ‘in’ and ‘by’ stand for.”
“Okay, so now you just have to remember the sentence.”
“That’s easy. My Brother And Every Musical Man Grow Radishes.”
After that we worked on how long each civilization lasted, and I made her memorize them till she could say them back to me without stopping to think.
Finally she said, “I can’t take any more. I’ll work on it this weekend. What are you wearing to Grad Night?” She riffled through the pages of the history book. “I wish I could wear this.” She pointed at a toga.
“You’d look fabulous. You could wear gold bracelets on your arms above the elbows.” She’d be gorgeous. She was gorgeous in the Claverford uniform. She’d be gorgeous times a million.
“Yeah, and I could wear leather sandals with straps that lace up to my knees.”
We were quiet, picturing it. Then I said, “What’s your dress really like?”
She grinned. “It’s not a toga, but it’s okay. It’s an African print, and it’s two-piece, and the skirt is very short. What’s yours like?”
I loved my dress. It was dark-blue taffeta. Not the dull Claverford navy, but royal and midnight blue mixed together. Across the front was a scattering of pale dots, like stars in the Milky Way.
“I’ll show you.” I went into the bedroom, took the dress out of the closet, and went back to the kitchen . . .
. . . and found Reggie sitting next to Ardis with his head in her lap. She had that look you get on your face when a soap bubble touches your arm and doesn’t burst immediately, or when a butterfly lands on you—something magical and precious has just happened and you don’t want it to end.
Her hand hovered about two inches above his head. She was dying to pet him, but she was still afraid.
“He loves it if you scratch behind his ears,” I said.
And she did it!
“He’s wagging his tail!” she said, smiling delightedly.
“He likes what you’re doing. He likes you.” After graduation, please remember I made this possible.
“I like him. I like you, doggie-Reggie.”
Reggie wagged his tail a few more times, then stood and shook himself.
“I feel abandoned.”
“You shouldn’t. It makes it that much more of an honor when he does come over.”
“I guess.”
“I think he’d like a pretzel.”
“Is it all right? The salt isn’t bad for him?”
“It’s all right.”
She gave him one without flinching, and he trotted off with it. “Is that your dress? What a stupendous color. Oh! I almost forgot. Nina and BeeBee are coming to my house before Grad Night to get ready together. Russ, Liam, and Carlos are meeting us there. Jared could too. You want to come? BeeBee is incredible with hair and makeup.”
I nodded. Going to Ardis’s would be a fabulous beginning for the Final Triumph of Wilma the Popular.