CHAPTER 21

THE RED CLUB GIRLS WERE all going for ice cream at Dairy Queen before it closed for the season. That sounded much more appealing than hanging with girls I didn’t know and listening to them talk about flips and stuff. But Ava needed me. And sometimes you had to do the right thing even if it wasn’t your first choice. This was why I found myself walking across our front yards and up to her door for the party with her gymnastics squad instead of enjoying an Oreo Blizzard from DQ.

Lately, it felt weird to have this whole life separate from my best friend. It had been different when we were little. Living next door to Ava and without homework, clubs, and sports taking up our time, we were together constantly. We spent hours listening to music in her room and dancing. We’d gorge ourselves on candy while flipping through magazines, and talk and laugh until one of our parents told us to be quiet, which never worked.

People used to say we were “attached at the hip.” But as soon as she started gymnastics, things started to change. And I knew we didn’t have the same kind of connection now as we’d had before. I could feel it. But I didn’t want to lose her completely. And I wanted to prove to her that I was a good friend and cared about what she cared about, even if I wasn’t feeling the same thing from her.

As soon as the door swung open, Ava screeched and threw her arms around me like we hadn’t seen in each other in weeks instead of hours.

“So glad you could come!” she gushed. “You look super cute. I love that top.”

It was a top she’d bought me for my last birthday, so I’d figured it was a sure bet. But she was being so weirdly enthusiastic, it was kind of freaking me out.

She took my arm and led me into the living room, where three girls were spread out across the sectional.

“Guys, this is my best friend, Riley,” she announced. “Riles, this is Maylee, Maliyah, and Madilynn.”

Riles? Who was Riles? She’d never called me that a day in my life. And Maylee, Maliyah, and Madilynn… really? How was I supposed to remember who was who?

The three Ms all muttered some version of “hey,” but they seemed super unimpressed. They were all tiny, like Ava, and wore their hair up in short ponytails. They had identical glitter eyeshadow on, and one pulled Ava back down onto the couch and reached toward her with an applicator brush.

“We can do your eyes next,” one of the Ms said to me.

I shook my head. “That’s okay. I’m good.”

Ava shot me a look that I figured was disappointment in my noncompliance. But I really had no interest in a communal glitter wand going anywhere near my eyeball.

I settled onto the nearest couch cushion. Awkward small talk came next, and I learned a little more about the girls. One was in seventh grade in the town next door. The other two were eighth graders at a local private school.

As the conversation steered toward gymnastics, I mostly kept quiet and observed. The three Ms seemed pretty tight-knit. Ava kept trying to insert herself into the conversation, but they often interrupted or spoke over her. I didn’t know why she wanted so badly to impress these girls who didn’t treat her all that great.

Mrs. Clement came around the corner carrying a silver tray full of cupcakes. The girls descended upon the treats as soon as she set the tray down on the table.

“Cheat day!” one screamed.

I plucked out a yellow cupcake with purple frosting, removed the liner, and took a bite. Mrs. Clement’s cupcakes were always awesome. As were her cookies and basically anything else she made.

“Thank you, Mrs. Clement,” I said through a mouthful.

She gave me a sad smile, like she felt guilty that I had to be there or something. “You’re welcome, Riley.”

One of the three musketeers cracked open a soda can and asked, “So what do you do?”

After a long awkward moment, I realized she was talking to me. I wiped a dab of frosting off my upper lip. “What do you mean?”

“Like a sport or something?” another M clarified.

Ava rearranged herself in between me and the Ms. “Riley is our school’s top investigative reporter.”

“So, you write for the school paper,” an M said, her eyes glossing over with boredom.

“She writes the most scandalous articles, you guys,” Ava said, before I could get a word in about myself. “She gets in trouble all the time. Called into the principal’s office and all that.”

The bored M sat up a little straighter. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Ava nodded quickly. “She pushed the limits so far that they shut the whole paper down two weeks ago.”

“Whoa,” all three Ms said in unison.

That wasn’t exactly true. But, I mean, Pickford was mad at me, and he had taken control of the paper, and he had put our publishing schedule on hold for a while. So, close enough?

Ava looked at me with an encouraging smile. She was pleased that the girls were interested. Might as well continue the tales of Riley.

I wiped the cupcake crumbs off my hands. “They also shut down my club because it was too inappropriate.”

Six glittered eyes widened. “What kind of club?”

“It’s called the Red Club. It’s a period support group, but really, it’s more than that. It’s kind of like a sisterhood. And they took it away from us.” I didn’t even have to force the bitterness that tinged my voice.

Reaching for another cupcake, the closest M said, “You have to do something! You have to fight back!”

I grinned devilishly. “Oh, we are.” And then I regaled them with tales of Tampon Day, Natural Day, and what we had planned for tomorrow.

The three Ms were a captive audience, asking questions now and then but mostly listening. They even high-fived me when I revealed our plans for Friday. Ava had sunk back into the couch cushions, not talking much, but I figured she had to be pleased with the turn her gathering had taken. The girls were happy and impressed. That was what she wanted, right?

“You should come to our next comp,” an M said to me as she made her way to the door. The other Ms agreed. “Yeah, we want to hear everything about this week and how it went!”

“I’ll definitely try to come,” I promised. “Ava will get me the date and time.”

“It was great to meet you!” they squealed, and offered up hugs before they ran down the driveway to their waiting cars.

Ava followed them outside, waving good-bye. I picked up some of the napkins and cupcake liners that littered the couch and floor since the other girls couldn’t be bothered, I guess.

As I carried the garbage to the kitchen trash, the front door opened and slammed as Ava came back in.

“They were actually nicer than I thought,” I said, wiping my hands on my jeans. “That went great, huh?”

Ava’s cheeks were bright red. “Yeah, great. For you.”

Completely confused, I shook my head. “What are you talking about?”

She pushed past me to get a drink from the fridge. “Thanks for totally stealing all the attention,” she muttered.

“Stealing… attention…” I repeated the words slowly. “Wait, are you mad that they liked me? Wasn’t that the point? You wanted me to impress them.”

“I wanted to impress them!” she yelled, slamming her glass down on the countertop. “But it became the Riley show, and they only wanted to talk to you.”

My mouth dropped open. I couldn’t believe she was mad about this. “I was just making conversation. I thought you’d be happy. The girls were totally interested.”

“Yeah, interested in you. I wanted this party to make them more interested in me. Your job was to make me look cool.”

I clenched my jaw. “News flash, Ava. Everything isn’t always about you!”

Ava gasped.

Now that I’d started, all the things I’d been holding in came tumbling out. “All you care about is the gym and your comps. You don’t care about me or what’s going on in my life.”

“That’s because you don’t let me!” Ava screamed, her face red, her eyes filling with tears. “You keep me separate from Cee and your other friends. I wasn’t allowed in your club. You’re not the old Riley I used to be able to count on. I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

Her words hit me like a fist. This whole time I’d been upset that she wasn’t like the old Ava, and she’d been thinking the same about me. Maybe we’d both changed.

I straightened my shoulders. “I’m not the old Riley. And you’re not the old Ava. We’re not the old us. So we should stop trying to pretend that we are.”

Then I turned and left my best friend’s house, wondering if it would be for the last time.