A few days after Christmas, I invited Blake, Olive, and Nia over for a holiday sleepover—even though Nia was still massively upset with me. I wanted us all to get together, and I wanted Mom to bake another round of her special chocolate chip cookies for us. Olive and Blake took very little convincing to come over. Even though Olive had family in town, she still made time to come over. “I want to help you and Nia get back on track,” Olive said. Always the peacemaker.
But Nia hadn’t texted or called since the Lee drama went down in my kitchen. She didn’t even wish me a merry Christmas or thank me for her gift. I didn’t blame her. She was probably hanging out with Lee every day since our blowup, cursing my name. Wishing I’d literally break a leg in the school musical and not be able to come back to school for the rest of the school year.
I called Nia the morning of the sleepover to check in.
“I’m studying,” she said.
Nia never turned down an invitation to a social gathering, much less a social gathering with Olive and me, much less a social gathering with Olive and me during winter break. “Studying?” I asked. “On a Friday night?”
“I have some catching up to do,” she said. “Basketball started right before break, and I need to squeeze in studying when I can.”
“Riiight,” I said slowly. “It’s just…” I tried to choose my words carefully. “It’s winter break.”
“Well, that doesn’t mean I don’t need to get my work done. I still get good grades, June. I’m a pretty smart girl.” Nia sounded defensive.
“I didn’t say you weren’t!” I said. I thought up a few nice things to say to her, to both make her feel good and get her to warm up to me. “You’re smart and pretty and so cool,” I said, then gritted my teeth—“which is why Lee likes you so much.”
Nia let out the kind of short laugh you release when you really don’t find a comment funny. She knew, ironically, that I was telling the truth, but it was probably too little too late. “Lee. Right, Lee.”
“Well, listen, a sleepover isn’t a sleepover without you. Please, please, please, come hang out with us? You can bring your books with you, too.”
“I’ll pass,” Nia said, then hung up.
I shook my head. Not telling the truth about Lee and her as soon as I knew it had created beef between Nia and me so big, she’d rather study than hang out with me. How long could she stay mad at me? Would she not speak to me all winter break? Or the entire spring semester? Was this the end of our friendship?
I tried to shake off the Nia call and get ready for the sleepover with my friends. I went to my closet to look for my favorite holiday pajamas, the same ones I’d been wearing all week, which would likely have holes in them by New Year’s Eve from wearing them so much. I dug them out of a pile of clean clothes I meant to fold and put away today, but hadn’t gotten around to yet.
Just then, I saw a cloud of matter floating in the closet. It grew thicker, like a spiderweb, then swirled around in a funnel cloud. The tornado in the middle of my closet signaled the arrival of my one and only fairy godmother. Victoria.
She emerged from the funnel cloud and stepped out of my closet. She cleared her throat and smoothed her gown. “June, June, June,” she said.
I knew exactly what she was going to say.
“See what happens when you don’t tell the truth right away?”
“Yeah, I get it, Victoria,” I said, annoyed. “I didn’t tell Nia about Lee being interested in her, and now she’s mad. So how about instead of berating or punishing me, will you help me get my friendship back? What truth can I tell her to help make things better between us again?”
“Why don’t you tell her how you honestly feel about Lee?”
My voice rose a few decibels. “Because I don’t know how I honestly feel about Lee! And why do I have to tell everyone everything! Can’t I keep some feelings to myself? I can tell the truth without sharing every little personal detail about my private life, can’t I?”
“Of course,” Victoria said. “But when you have been directly asked questions, like when Nia asked you if Lee liked her, that’s different. Remember, I can’t lift the spell if you’re not telling the truth.”
I closed my eyes and slumped back on the floor in front of my bed. Victoria waved her magic wand above her head, and fairy dust rained down around her. She took a few spins around until the dust covered her completely, and in a poof she was gone once again.
Olive had arrived at my house first, already wearing her pajamas. She brought a platter of homemade chocolatey brownies.
My mom was in the kitchen gathering a fresh batch of Christmas cookies and some leftover holiday popcorn for the gang. “Hi, Dr. Jackson,” Olive greeted her as we walked in. “I know these aren’t part of the four food groups, but they’re homemade.”
“Hi, Olive,” Mom said. “Chocolate is a major food group at Christmastime. Thank you, dear.”
Olive turned back to me. “Is Nia coming?” she asked.
“Nope,” I said, a bit defeated. “She says she has to ‘study.’ ”
The doorbell rang again, and Blake was standing on the porch wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. Olive followed behind me to greet her. “Hey, girl! Where’s your pj’s?”
“In my bag here,” Blake said. “I didn’t know we were wearing them to dinner, too.”
“No worries,” I said. “I live in these things now. They’re not coming off until school starts again.”
Blake came inside and walked shoulder to shoulder with Olive as they followed me to the living room. Blake complimented Olive on her shoes, and Olive complimented Blake on her braided bracelet she was wearing. These two friends could get along without any drama. Like they’d known each other for years, or at least like they cared enough to be kind to one another for my sake! On the other hand, Nia’s and Blake’s dads worked together, and Nia couldn’t even be bothered to be polite toward Blake. She couldn’t even be bothered to show up to this sleepover with us, either. Couldn’t we all just get along like one big peaceful pack of American Girl dolls?
“Where’s your bathroom again so I can get into my pj’s?” Blake asked. I pointed to a door around the corner, and Blake disappeared to get changed.
Blake, Olive, and I had just settled on the living room floor in front of the TV when Dad walked into the living room carrying his briefcase, returning from work. “Well, hello, girls! Is this an official meeting?”
“No, Dad! Just a sleepover.”
“Well, every sleepover needs pizza,” he said, putting down his briefcase. Should I order one?” We nodded enthusiastically.
Halfway into our TV show, I got up to grab my cell phone from my room, and as I was walking back toward the living room, I heard my dad ask Blake about field hockey.
“So will you be playing field hockey next year?” he asked Blake. “You guys played well this season. Only one loss!”
“Yep, I’ll be on the team next year,” Blake said. “I’m on a summer team, too. But before then, it’s all about the school musical.”
I entered the room just as she said the word “musical.” I gritted my teeth. Please don’t mention my name, please don’t tell Dad that I’m in The Wiz, I wished to myself. He’ll be so angry I didn’t tell him earlier, and disappointed I am doing yet another thing to not be a lawyer. He’ll cancel all future sleepovers so I can “buckle down” and focus on a “real career”! I took a big inhale as I repeated those words to myself, and my chest felt tight.
“There’s a musical?” Dad asked.
I quickly interrupted them. “Hey, guys! So what movie are we watching first?” I said, trying to change the subject.
“Did you know Blake’s in the school musical, June?” Dad asked, unbothered by my attempt to distract him.
I kept my eyes focused on the TV screen, glaring at the holiday movies available on Netflix. My mouth was getting dry. My nose twitched. I felt an itch like a sneeze was coming on. I stammered, “Yeah…uh, yes, I did. Blake’s a dancer.”
“Ah, I see,” Dad said.
“Yes,” Blake said slowly, then looked at me. I flashed her a look, the look that said, “Don’t say any more.” I looked at Olive quickly and flashed her the same look. Both froze in their seats.
I felt a stronger itch in my nose. I rubbed it, hoping it would clear. But as the feeling got more intense, I had to sneeze. I held it in. My eyes got watery.
“So, what play is it?” Dad asked.
Blake looked at me and shook her head. “It’s The Wiz,” she said.
“Ah, I love The Wiz! June, we’ve seen that at least a dozen times, right?”
“Um…uh, yeah,” I said. Please, no one tell him I’m Dorothy! I just want to tell him myself. My nose was itchier than ever. I tried to exhale through my nose to clear it. No such luck. I knew that if I didn’t tell him, I was about to have the largest sneezing fit ever. “Um…” Here’s my chance to confess. Get it out, June! “Ahhh, ahhhh…”
DING-DONG!
“Pizza’s here!” my father declared. “Excuse me,” he said, dashing to grab his wallet and then answer the door.
“Aaaaahh—chhoooo!” I sneezed.
“Bless you!” my dad called from the hallway. The itchy feeling subsided. Blake and Olive looked at me.
“You haven’t told him you’re starring in the school musical?” Blake looked at me with crinkled eyebrows. “You’re the lead! It’s a big deal!”
“I know!” I said. “I just want to tell him in my own way.”
“All this time you’ve been working hard to impress him, and you finally have something that’s impressive, and you’re hiding it!” Olive said. “Tell him! My parents would be so proud if I scored the lead in a musical.”
“Your parents appreciate the arts!” I said. “They love Broadway, and, heck, you’re in the orchestra! My dad’s different. He’s not about that creative life.”
“How do you know?”
“How do I know? You do recall that I just got off of punishment after telling him I didn’t want to be a lawyer. This man believes in careers like law, politics, finance, things that involve degrees and schooling and facts and figures. Acting? Not a career to him.”
Dad walked through the room with two large pizza pies. My throat started to get dry, like I was walking through the desert. I hoped that the smell of hot melted cheese and pepperoni would derail my dad’s train of thought away from the musical and school and me. It had certainly thrown my attention.
“Mmmm, hot out of the oven! Let’s get it, girls,” he called out from the kitchen, putting the pizzas on the counter.
No one mentioned The Wiz again as we ate slices of pizza and milled around the kitchen. The sneezing feeling was gone, too. A good thing—no one likes snotty pizza. The longer people ate, the less likely it was people would bring up the school musical in conversation. After dinner, my dad went to his office for a bit, and then to bed, while Blake, Olive, and I stayed up late watching movies, browsing the internet, and wishing Nia was there. Just before midnight, the three of us tucked ourselves under blankets on the sofa and fell asleep in front of the television. Nia never answered any of our text messages the entire night.