The walk to school isn’t very far, but it was long enough for me to realize I was totally worried about my first day. Mom says I have a nervous stomach and to ignore it, but this was more like how my stomach felt after I got off the Alien Abduction ride at the county fair. Jump. Thud. Lurch. I couldn’t even get annoyed with Jackson for bumping into me—on purpose—every three feet because I was too busy chewing my fingernails and trying not to throw up.
Even though it was still warm outside, there were a few trees with leaves turning red and gold, and none of our neighbors were outside mowing their lawns the way they were, like, every morning during the summer. It was definitely fall and back-to-school season, normally my favorite time of year.
We reached the front of the elementary school just as the buses were opening their doors and all the kids rushed out. Jackson saw his friend Will and headed off in his direction while I veered left toward the entrance to our town’s middle school right next door.
The people who built the Woodgrove Middle School designed big common areas in the lobby where students are allowed to hang out before the first bell. It’s crazy loud sometimes—especially on the first day back or when everyone is about to leave for winter break or summer vacation.
When I got inside, I scanned the large room. The seventh graders tend to hang out up against the side wall where there are big looping, circular benches to sit on. It’s a much better spot than the front of the room right by the doors where we were stuck last year as lowly sixth graders, but not as good real estate as the awesome area in the back behind a bunch of big plants that is exclusively for the lucky eighth graders.
Then I heard a totally recognizable laugh. Brianna!
I walked over to her, intent on finding out what was going on, but as I got closer, the neon green wrapper in her hand caught my eye.
It was a package of Nutty Buddies.
Wait, what? Nutty Buddies!?! Brianna shook a few of the candies into the palm of her hand, then passed the bag over to Shelley Abrams. Maybe Brianna heard my giant gulp or the sound of my stomach dropping to the floor, because she turned around and looked right at me.
“Oh, hi, Nina,” Brianna said, in a super-casual, “We’re kind of friends, right? I forget” tone, barely looking away from Shelley. There was an awkward pause before she jumped up to give me a quick hug with just the tips of her fingers. It felt more like she was trying to bump her shoulders to mine and avoid touching any other part of me.
She sat down again just as fast. Brianna was wearing jean shorts and a white tank top with a lace decoration on front, and arm warmers—one was striped, the other a sweatshirt-y gray. Everything about the outfit was new. Or at least I’d never seen any of it before.
I stood very still, a smile pasted to my face. “Um, when did you get back? How was Europe?” I asked, as casually as I could, even though I could feel my cheeks get all warm. That was my best friend, the one who’d sworn she’d rather die than eat a peanut if I couldn’t, sitting and munching on Nutty Buddies.
“Oh, a few days ago!” Brianna answered and flipped her dark red hair which had gotten noticeably longer since I’d seen her last, or maybe it was just long because she’d straightened it so it lay totally flat, instead of styling it the way she usually did, which was to let it dry naturally, leaving it wavy and normal-looking. Not shampoo-commercial-straight at 8:00 a.m.
“It’s been so busy, I’m sorry I didn’t call you. Did you get my postcard? It was great! It was so crazy because in Venice we were having dinner and Shelley was sitting there at the next table over with her mom. Insane, right?” Brianna was giggling, and she and Shelley were passing the candy bag back and forth. Then Shelley put it on the seat between them.
The seat I could see was not being saved for me.
“Yeah, insane,” I replied quietly. I reminded myself to swallow and tried to keep my smile up. I could barely manage it.
Brianna noticed me eyeing the Nutty Buddies. “Do you mind, Nina?” she waved her hand at the bag like she was shooing it away. “They’re soooo yummy, but if you mind, I can put it away.”
She turned to Shelley. “Nina’s got a massive peanut allergy and kind of freaks out when they’re around.”
“I do not,” I said. Had she really just said that? “Anyway, it’s fine. Whatever. Glad Italy was fun…that sounds so cool…I can’t believe you guys saw each other there…at the next table…wow.”
But of course I minded. It’s not like Brianna could possibly have forgotten all the times she was there when my mom lectured me about being safe around food and how I had to always read ingredient labels to make sure there were no eggs or peanuts in anything. And how I have to pack my own boring cupcakes when I go people’s birthday parties, instead of being able to have dessert with everyone, because just about everything delicious seems to be made with eggs or nuts or both. How I’m always kind of wondering if I’m taking my life in my fork if I eat anywhere but home.
Yes, I did mind.
A lot.
How could Brianna not know that?
“What happens if you eat a peanut anyway?” Shelley asked.
I turned to her—I’d been so transfixed by Bri I hadn’t really focused on her before. Same Shelley as ever—hair totally shiny and halfway down her back without any of the annoying frizzies I seem to get from the warm, late summer air. Stylish clothing too. She was wearing short brown boots with a heel and what looked like a new pair of jeans. Shelley is the only seventh grader I know who actually looks like the girls do in shows about adorable boys who turn into werewolves or vampires and the girls who love them.
Brianna and I had spent so much time last year wondering about Shelley, who was a transfer student. Because she was new, and we live in a dinky small town in upstate New York, Shelley’s freshness made her someone everyone wanted to be seen with.
Shelley spent most of her sixth grade hanging out with all the kids a grade older. She even supposedly dated one of them, a totally cute boy named Sebastian, who we speculated about endlessly. Neither Bri nor I had ever been on an actual date, let alone multiple dates, or even kissed anyone. Sebastian gave Shelley a gold bracelet—a real one—for her birthday, or at least that was what we’d heard.
We’d also heard Shelley dumped him at the end of the school year and stopped hanging out with Sebastian’s twin sister, Maxie, her former best friend, at the same time, like she was over both of them. And that Sebastian was so upset he cried for, like, a week and refused to go to tennis camp.
I have no clue what was really true, but it all sounded exciting, and not like my life at all.
Shelley and Brianna were both looking at me, waiting for me to answer about what would happen if I ate peanuts. I looked down at the floor, uncomfortable with their stares.
“I’m not sure. I could get sick, I guess,” I said, after a long pause. I didn’t really want to talk about it.
“Oh, that must be such a hassle!” Shelley said. “I would die if I couldn’t eat what I want, when I want it.”
Cringe. Pity is the worst.
“Yeah, well, it’s not a huge deal,” I replied. Actually, it was, because I was the one who could actually die from anaphylactic shock, not die by exaggeration.
“Yeah,” Brianna said, getting back to her original story. “We saw Shelley and her mom right next to us; it was so crazy!”
Again with the crazy. I got it.
She looked at Shelley, not at me, when she was talking—like she was waiting for Shelley’s approval.
Shelley giggled and jumped in, “So we hung out the next few days. Our parents even let us go off alone one afternoon for lunch. You wouldn’t believe how cute Italian guys are. They are such flirts.”
“We were, like, followed, by this one gorgeous guy over a canal bridge.” Brianna added, almost shrieking with laughter.
I wasn’t sure why being followed was so wonderful. After all the years of lectures about safety and stranger danger, I thought anytime someone was following me it was time to head into a store or find a police officer. But I guess in Venice the rules were different and being chased around by a person you don’t know is a good thing.
I was surprised that I was being so calm, standing there listening to Brianna talk. Brianna, the one I spent every weekend with, talked on the phone with every night, the one who’d spent nights at my house, and vice versa for the past four years, was acting like I was some random person who just came up to talk to her, instead of her closest friend in the world.
I looked down again at the telltale bright boogery green candy wrapper she was still holding, wondering whether the toxic peanut dust was heading toward me. I know my mom exaggerates the dangers of all things nuts, since I’m walking around on the planet every day surrounded by nut-eating citizens and I am fine, but on the other hand, it’s not like I want to roll around in crumbs of the stuff, either.
I looked up at the big clock on the wall to check the time. There were only a few minutes until class started, but I couldn’t stand there faking that everything was okay for even ten more seconds without bursting into tears.
“I’m going to run to the bathroom. I’ll see you upstairs,” I said, turning and racing off, not even waiting for them to reply. I heard Shelley call “Ciao!” after me, and then Shelley and Brianna resumed talking and giggling about something. I couldn’t hear well enough to know what. I’d bet it was about Italy, where I’ve never been and will probably never get to go, or something else I wasn’t a part of.
I just hoped I’d make it to the stalls before anyone saw that I’d started crying.