In Ms. Trepky’s homeroom, sometimes we have silent reading time. It’s actually pretty quiet compared to other classes when we’re meant to be having silent preparation time of some kind, because Ms. Trepky’s good at that, but there’s still the occasional rustle and whisper that goes on.
Ms. Trepky was at her desk doing her own reading, and Talia was out for a bathroom break. I thought I heard something going on behind me, but I tried to focus on my Eleanor Roosevelt book.
The rustle behind me kept happening, but I couldn’t make out what it was until finally I heard my name. I turned around. Angie and Patreece were sitting behind me, and when I looked back at them, they laughed.
“We’ve been saying your name for, like, five minutes,” Angie said. “Couldn’t you hear us?”
“Are you, like, deaf or something?” Patreece said.
“Ladies,” said Ms. Trepky.
Angie and Patreece snickered one more time, then looked down at their books. I realized that they weren’t saying my name in a get-my-attention way. They were saying it in a teasing way.
I went back to reading. I had my own work to think about. Cecilia? And … Eleanor, too, if you’re there? I’m gonna keep reading and focusing on you guys, because what those girls are whispering definitely doesn’t matter, right?
I was glad when the bell rang.
I took my lunch to the library, like usual. Talia had been spending quite a few lunch periods with Mr. Gradey and the drama teacher working on her Poetry Out Loud piece. I thought it was fantastic that she was entering, and that she was already working so hard. I knew she was going to win. But even though I tried not to, I couldn’t help thinking that the library wasn’t quite as good a best friend as it was before. It was still pretty great, of course, but it wasn’t quite as good at telling jokes and showing me new rap songs and helping me with my master plan.
I ate my lunch and wrote down some ideas in my notebook. Talia had mentioned that her grandma in Samoa wasn’t doing so well, and I knew she was worried about that, too. I didn’t quite know how to tell her I missed her, not when she was so busy, and so sad about her grandma. I didn’t quite know how to say that when she was ready, when she wanted to talk about her grandma and be worried, or when she’d won her contest and wanted to be excited, I’d be in the library.