My friends? I was starting to feel like taffy being pulled in too many directions by too many people — Josh, my other seventh-grade friends, and my friends in the BSC. “I know Mom and Dad are going to make me do some more homework. But why don’t you come over a little early? Dad will drive us to the Rosebud when it’s time,” I suggested.
I could almost hear his smile when he agreed. “I’ll be there. You can coach me on how to act with cool older guys.”
I giggled. “I’m such an expert! See you later.” We hung up and I dragged my body out of bed.
* * *
“You’re looking pretty good,” Josh said when I answered his knock later that day.
“Only pretty good?” I pretended to be insulted. I’d worked hard on my outfit — a long black skirt, a white shirt with full sleeves, and a short vest that I’d covered with bright-colored buttons and bows. My hair was braided with strands of ribbons that matched the decorations on the vest.
Then I looked at Josh. How could I tell him that maybe he’d overdressed a bit? I didn’t know if I’d ever seen anybody in the Rosebud Café wearing a tie, unless it was somebody’s dad. Josh also had on a denim shirt and khaki pants. The outfit wouldn’t be bad at all if he lost the tie.
“You didn’t have to dress up for me!” I teased, pulling on the tie.
Josh stepped back and adjusted the knot. “You’ll strangle me if you keep pulling on it like that.”
“Come on in.” I stood aside, then shut the door after him.
“Hi, Josh,” my mom called, sticking her head around the corner.
“Hi, Mrs. Kishi. Thanks for letting me come over,” he said.
“Our pleasure.”
Janine was watching television in the den. “We’ll go someplace else,” I said, backing out.
Too late. Janine stood up, causing the remote control to fly into the air. It landed at Josh’s feet.
“Your electronic wand, milady,” he said, handing it back to her with a bow.
Janine laughed — a little too loudly, I thought. “Thank you, gallant sir,” she answered. “You’re more than welcome to join me. I was channel swimming, trying to find something fit to watch.”
“I think you mean channel surfing, Janine,” I corrected her.
Josh plopped down on the sofa. When I sat down beside him, he rested his arm along the back, barely touching my shoulders. “You have some big plans tonight?” he asked Janine.
“I might bake some cookies,” she replied. We hadn’t gotten around to it the night before. “Any special kind you guys like?”
“Anything with chocolate in it,” I said.
“Maybe when you’re through with dinner, we could make some chocolate-chip cookies.”
Two nights in a row with nothing to do but hang out and bake cookies? That seemed odd even for Janine. “We’re going to Stacey’s after dinner,” I reminded her. I thought I felt Josh’s arm stiffen when I mentioned going to Stacey’s, but he was smiling when I glanced at him.
“Janine, could you help me for a minute in the kitchen?” Mom called.
Thank you, Mom, I thought.
Josh and I settled back on the couch as Janine left, promising to come back as soon as she’d finished helping Mom.
“What did you do today?” I asked him, leaning back against his arm.
“Rescued my cat from a fate worse than death.”
“Is he okay?” I asked.
“Only his pride is wounded. There’s another cat in the neighborhood. We call it the ‘puffy’ cat because it has hair out to here.” Josh held his hands wide apart. “It hangs around our house all the time, waiting for my cat to come outside. I’ve never been sure whether it wants to play with him or fight him. Then today I decided it wasn’t waiting for my cat at all. It was waiting for us. I think it’s jealous of all the attention we give our cat.”
“How did you figure that out?” I asked.
“Because all it wants is to be petted. As soon as any one of us steps outside, it starts meowing and rubbing against our legs. Except for Dad. Dad’s yelled at it before and it doesn’t like him much. In fact, one of the neighbors asked why Dad was so mean to the poor cat. He’s not mean. He’s just trying to make it go away and leave our cat alone.”
I laughed, imagining Mr. Rocker chasing the “puffy” cat away.
“You guys ready to go?” Dad asked from the doorway.
Josh whirled around, then smoothed his hair and straightened his tie again.
When he reached the car, Josh held the back door open for me, then climbed in beside me. He was quiet on the way to the restaurant, answering Dad’s questions but not saying much else.
“Thanks for the ride, Mr. Kishi,” Josh said as we climbed out of the car. His voice broke slightly when he said “Kishi,” but he quickly cleared his throat to cover it.
“See you later, Dad. Mrs. McGill will drive us home later,” I said.
“Have a good evening.” Dad waved as we turned to walk inside.
Josh paused at the door. I grabbed his hand and found it damp with sweat. He pulled it away and dried it on his pants. “Still want to hold it?” he asked with a grin, rubbing it on his pants leg again.
I took his hand and smiled, trying to reassure him.
We were the last ones to arrive.
“Welcome to the Rosebud Café,” Logan said, standing up and bowing as we approached the table.
“Claudia!” Stacey looked surprised to see us. She’d been deep in conversation with Ethan, who was every bit as cute as I’d remembered. He was dressed all in black — black jeans and a black long-sleeved shirt. “And Josh,” she added.
There were two empty chairs between Ethan and Mary Anne, so I took the one near Ethan, leaving Josh to sit beside Mary Anne. He knew her, and maybe that would help him feel more relaxed. He kept wiping his hands on his pants and clearing his throat.
“Claudia, you remember Ethan. Ethan, this is Josh Rocker, who goes to school with us. Josh, this is my friend Ethan Carroll, from New York City.” I was glad that Stacey didn’t mention that Josh was in seventh grade. That was one of the things making him nervous.
Josh had just sat down, but he quickly pushed his chair back and stood to shake Ethan’s hand. His chair tipped over when he stood up, making a huge racket. Worse, a waiter was passing behind him when the chair fell. He stopped short, and the tray he was carrying tilted. The glasses on the tray began to slide. Josh grabbed the tray and leveled it, let go, and jumped back, landing in Mary Anne’s lap.
“Are you all right?” the waiter asked Josh.
“Fine,” Josh said. “Hi, Mary Anne. Sure is good to see you again.”
Everyone laughed.
“It’s nice to meet you, Josh,” said Ethan.
“You too, earring — I mean, Ethan.” Josh’s face turned red again.
Ethan has one ear pierced. I guess it caught Josh’s attention.
We relaxed. Josh began talking to Logan. I turned to Ethan and asked him if he’d been to any good art exhibits lately. He is a terrific artist. We were discussing an exhibition of collages he’d seen recently when Josh nudged me.
“I’ll be right back,” he whispered. He headed to the men’s room. When he returned, his tie was gone.
When our food arrived, Josh concentrated on his dinner, nodding or shaking his head and chewing whenever someone asked him a question. He looked more relaxed by the time we’d finished eating and arrived at Stacey’s house.
During the video, Josh and Logan talked quietly about sports for a while. Then Josh leaned his head back against the couch and closed his eyes for a few minutes. The movie was pretty boring. I wondered if Ethan had chosen it, because it didn’t seem like something Stacey would ordinarily watch. It had subtitles and beautiful scenery but not much happening. I wasn’t even sure what it was about.
“I guess all the copies of Mask of the Avenger were already rented,” Josh whispered to me toward the end of the movie.
After the video, Mr. Spi
er showed up to drive us home. I’d thought that Mrs. McGill was going to do that, but it didn’t matter. Dad wouldn’t mind if I rode with Mary Anne’s dad. We dropped Josh off first.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said. “Thanks for the ride, Mr. Spier. Good night.” Josh almost didn’t wait for the car to come to a complete stop before he jumped out and ran up the walk to the door of his house.
“Do you think Josh had a good time?” Mary Anne asked. “He’s really sweet.”
“And funny,” Logan added.
“Yeah, I think it went pretty well,” I said, feeling pleasantly tired.
When we reached my house, all the lights were on. Janine was standing in the hall, holding a plate of cookies. “Isn’t anybody else coming in?” she asked, looking past me to the door.
“It’s kind of late,” I said.
“Oh.” Janine looked down at the cookies.
“I’ll have a couple,” I said. They were chocolate chip — I think. The edges were too dark and the shapes were all a little different. I bit into one and it crunched.
“They’re a little overdone,” Janine said. “I was reading and didn’t hear the buzzer. How was your date?” She turned and carried the cookies back into the kitchen.
“Fun,” I said, starting upstairs.
“Aren’t you going to tell me about it?”
“Sure.” I joined my sister in the kitchen. Janine was beginning to act like my new best friend. I was just thinking that her bonding attempts probably wouldn’t go on much longer when Janine pulled out … the list.
“I brainstormed a selection of activities for next weekend when Mom and Dad are gone. What do you think?” Janine asked.
The list covered the front and half of the back of a piece of paper. I thought that if we did even half of the things she’d written down I’d never have time for Josh, the BSC, my seventh-grade friends, and my homework.
“Thanks for the cookies, Janine,” Josh called over his shoulder as we headed down the sidewalk. It was the next day, and we still had plenty of Janine’s cookies left.
“Anytime. I’m hopeful they’ll prove to be a delight to the palate,” my sister replied.
We were on our way to eat pizza. I’d just finished my homework, when Josh had called. As soon as I’d said yes to pizza and hung up the phone, Stacey called to talk about Ethan. Like I said — taffy pull time.
As we walked into Pizza Express, a couple of Josh’s friends called to us from the video game arcade. Josh waved to them. Then we chose a table for two along the wall.
“I like this place,” Josh said after we ordered.
“Me too.” Practically everybody I know likes Pizza Express.
“It’s kind of … comfortable here,” he continued.
I nodded.
“Not like the Rosebud.” Josh arranged and rearranged the napkin holder and the cheese and spice containers sitting on the edge of the table.
“The Rosebud isn’t so bad,” I said.
“But you have to worry about table manners, and talking with your mouth full, and,” he shrugged, “not being immature.”
“I guess you didn’t have much fun last night,” I said.
“I don’t know if I did or not. I was so nervous. I wore a tie and almost knocked out a waiter with my chair. I didn’t have a clue about what to say to anybody.”
“I knew you were nervous at first, but I didn’t realize it was that bad.”
The waitress set our pizza on the table. Josh transferred a large slice from the pan to his plate. Strings of cheese stretched between the pizza and his slice. He stuck his fingers underneath them and twirled, separating the cheese from the rest of the pie. “I couldn’t have done that last night, in front of everybody. How old is Ethan anyway?”
“Fifteen,” I said.
“He was so …” Josh took a bite and chewed, thinking. “He didn’t make a single mistake all night.”
“Still, he may have been as nervous as you were but was covering it up. I know I was worried the first time I met him. But he’s cool.”
“Yeah. I wish I could have gotten through it that easily.”
“You did fine.”
“I felt better after I ditched the tie,” Josh said with a smile. He leaned his head back and let the string of cheese dribble into his mouth.
“You and Logan were talking. I bet Logan felt awkward at first too.”
“Is Logan part of the BSC?” Josh asked.
“He’s an associate member. He takes jobs if the rest of us are busy,” I explained.
“He must get a lot of jobs, then,” Josh said.
I sighed. One of the things I like about Josh is that he’s easy to talk to. “You mean you think I’m too busy?”
“Not exactly. It’s more that you have separate groups of friends. One group goes with this part of your life,” Josh tore his pizza slice in half and put one part of it on his plate. “And another group goes with this part.” He placed the second half on a napkin. “I’m part of this seventh-grade group, but I don’t know the BSC group that well. And, sometimes I’d like to be our own group — Josh and Claudia.”
“I feel more like a piece of taffy than pizza,” I said. “Pulled and tugged between my friends, my family, and homework. I wish there was a fun way to bring everybody together,” I added, thinking out loud. “Like a party.”
“How about a taffy pull?”
I laughed. “I was thinking of a get-acquainted party.”
“That sounds like fun. Why not do it?” Josh asked.
I shook my head. “I don’t think my parents would let me throw a big party.”
* * *
After Josh walked me home I tried to come up with another way to bring the different groups in my life together. As I passed by Janine’s room, she spun her chair toward the door. “Did Josh enjoy the cookies?” she called out.
I wasn’t sure what he’d done with the cookies, but I called out, “Yeah,” and continued toward my room.
I sat on my bed. I knew my friends would like one another if they had a chance to get to know one another better. I looked up to see Janine in the doorway, leaning against the jamb.
“Did you finish your science assignment?” she asked.
“Mom helped me with it. She wouldn’t let me go out with Josh until I finished.”
Janine continued to stand there. “Would you like to join me in a game of —”
“I don’t think so,” I said before she could even finish asking. Janine likes games that test the brain, and I’m no match for her. “Don’t you have something to study tonight?”
“I’m reading the most fascinating book for extra credit in my English class. It’s a novel about chess. You know I don’t usually enjoy fiction, but this particular plot is almost mathematical in its precision,” she said.
“Sounds great,” I mumbled as I felt underneath the bed for the bag of M&M’s I knew was there. When I pulled it out, Janine was holding out her hand. I poured some M&M’s into it. Maybe I could get used to spending time with Janine.
“You know,” said Janine thoughtfully, “you’ve managed to maintain relationships with your seventh-grade friends as well as your eighth-grade friends, even now that you’ve returned to the eighth grade, haven’t you?”
“I’m trying,” I said, suddenly realizing that my problem wasn’t so bad after all. Here I was, feeling as if I had too many friends, but it seemed as if Janine didn’t have any friends at all. Maybe that’s why she was so interested in my life all of a sudden.
“We could work ahead in your math book,” Janine suggested.
“Nah,” I said.
“Maybe I’ll go back to my room.” She popped the last two M&M’s into her mouth. “See you in the morning.”
“See you,” I said, collapsing back against the pillows. How could I fit more hours into the day? That’s the only solution I could come up with for managing to keep all my friends happy.
* * *
By the time our Monday BS
C meeting rolled around, I still hadn’t come up with any ideas about how to bring my seventh-grade friends, Josh, and my BSC friends together.
Abby had run to the meeting again, and Jessi was showing her some stretches that she could do to cool down. Stacey was writing in the BSC notebook, and Mary Anne and Kristy were looking at a magazine. Mallory was sitting on the floor, leaning against my bed. She seemed to be studying her fingernails.
“How did you do on your social studies test?” Stacey asked Mal as she handed her the BSC notebook.
“Okay. I think I got an eighty-six.” Mal passed the notebook to Mary Anne without even opening it. She had barely smiled when she’d arrived that afternoon and hadn’t smiled once since. And an 86 on a test? Usually, she’d consider that near failing. I noticed Jessi’s look of concern when Mal announced her grade. We were all concerned about Mal.
“Did Josh have a good time Saturday night?” Mary Anne asked.
“He said he was too nervous to enjoy it,” I admitted.
Mary Anne nodded. “Logan said the same thing.”
“Ethan thought everything went pretty well, considering. He said meeting new people isn’t his favorite thing,” said Stacey.
So I’d been right. All the guys had felt as awkward as Josh had. “But sometimes it’s good to mix with different people,” I said.
“When?” asked Mary Anne.
“When you’ve just beaten the pants off them at softball,” Kristy said.
“When you’re trying out for a part in a ballet,” Jessi offered.
“When you’re running past them on the street,” mumbled Abby, her head touching the floor between her outstretched legs. I stared in wonder. I knew I couldn’t do that.
“I don’t know which is worse: meeting new people who don’t know anything about you, or having to see the same old faces and hear the same old comments every single day,” Mallory said.
Her response was the only one that was serious.
“What I mean is that I had to meet new people and make new friends when I went back to seventh grade, and those people are still my friends,” I said.