twenty-two

That day at lunch, everyone was surrounding Mace and telling her how awesome her hair looked. I just sat there, looking at my PB&B&B sandwich. Not able to eat anything.

“Are you okay?” Trip whispered.

I tried a weak smile. “Yeah, just, um, a tummyache.”

Mace stopped in the middle of whatever story she was telling and looked right at me. “You probably need to go to the nurse. C’mon, I’ll walk you.”

Billy looked up at Mace offering to walk me anywhere and then shook his head. “Girls, man.”

Trip was watching me quietly.

Mace stood up. “Well? Are you coming?” It was almost like a challenge.

“Maybe…” I said. “Yeah, I’ll go.”

I stood up, leaving my lunch, which Billy pounced on. “Yes! Peanut butter, banana, and bacon on white! Sweet!”

Mace said nothing as the two of us walked out of the cafeteria. She paused in front of Miss Homer, who was hidden behind her latest book, and said, “Leia doesn’t feel well. I’m just going to walk her to the nurse.”

“Mmm-hmm.” Page turn.

It was touching how concerned she was for my welfare.

We said nothing in the quiet halls. Just walked and listened to the soft echo of our steps.

Right outside the health office, Mace paused and said, “Look, I still don’t like you—and I don’t care if you like me or not, but—”

I just stood there. Was this why she wanted to walk me? So she could tell me how much she still didn’t like me? I kept my mouth shut and waited. Whatever she was handing out, I could take.

“But I—I really like DiDi. Having someone listen and talk to me… it means everything to me.”

It was like being on another planet.

Mace was standing there, saying she liked DiDi.

That DiDi meant everything to her.

My DiDi.

My DiDi, who was born nine years, nine days, and nine hours apart from me. And Mace had known her for how long? Nine seconds? I could feel the angry part of me growing and growing. And then I opened my mouth and let it do the talking.

“Well—you mean nothing to her—do you hear me? Nothing. She doesn’t even like you—she could never like someone as—as fussy—and stuck-up as you. She did that to your hair as a joke.”

Then I opened the nurse’s door and slammed it as hard as I could, leaving her standing there, looking like I’d just punched her in the face.

One-Two Punch

• Two quarts orange sherbet

• Two liters ginger ale

• One large can of pineapple juice (46 ounces)

• 1 lemon and 1 orange, sliced in circles, for garnish

When you’re ready to get this party started, just put your orange sherbet in your best punch bowl.

Pour in your ginger ale. Then your pineapple juice.

Top it with some lemon and orange slices to make it pretty.

Couldn’t be easier.

But then, I always say, it doesn’t take much to make the perfect One-Two Punch.

Serves a whole party of people.