AFTERNOON
DEAR DIARY,
Bea came by and asked, “How was Thanksgiving?”
I was about to grumble a bit, but Pip chimed, “Great,” and offered her a slice of leftover pie.
“Pip’s Pumpkin Pie,” I said, because last week Mrs. Lemons said alliterations are when a bunch of words start with the same sound.
Bea got a funny look, and then Pip said, “‘Desserts,’ I stressed,” (D-E-S-S-E-R-T-S-I-S-T-R-E-S-S-E-D), which is a palindrome. I could tell she was about to launch into our parents’ peculiar passion for palindromes, but fortunately Bea complimented Pip’s pie and asked, “So how’d it go? Did you compliment people this week?”
“I complimented my dad’s turkey,” Pip said, “and my uncle Patrick’s jokes and my aunt Jen’s earrings. And it all went really well.”
“Just fantastic,” I mumbled and tried to remember the last time anyone complimented me.
“How about in school?” Bea asked.
“I complimented Mr. Ramirez’s holiday book display. And a boy’s sweater.”
“A boy?” Bea asked, eyes wide.
“A boy!” Pip giggled.
Was she going to name names?
Pip turned to Bea, “Should I tell him I like him?”
Bea considered the question. “It’s usually better to show not tell. At least that’s what real advice columnists say.”
“Show not tell? How do I do that?” Pip asked.
Bea said, “Just talk to him and smile and stuff. He’ll figure it out. He’ll be able to guess, and you won’t have to spell it out.”
“Our family likes to s-p-e-l-l stuff out,” I was thinking. But I didn’t say that. I didn’t say anything. Just call me Ava the Absent.
“The problem,” Bea pointed out, “is that once you put stuff in words, you can’t take it back.”
“I guess,” Pip said.
“I know,” I almost added because, well, duh!
“Pip,” Bea said, “I was going to say that you’ve come out of your shell like a snail or a turtle. But I think you’ve come out of your cocoon like a butterfly.”
“Me?” Pip asked.
“You!” Bea answered.
I sat there trying not to feel jealous of Pip Hannah Wren, Center of the Known Universe.
“What’s my next assignment?” Pip asked.
“To ask people questions, at least one per day. And to listen to their answers.”
“I can do that.”
“Good. Because it’s your last assignment.” Bea handed over the final strip of yellow paper. “Ava came up with this one,” she added.
I wasn’t sure if I even wanted credit or not. I mean, I know I’m supposed to be happy for Pip the Butterfly, but I’m also frustrated for—
AVA THE ANT