Oof. Lulu was making some pretty good points, Alfie admitted to herself.
Bad idea, EllRay! This was all his fault, Alfie told herself, scowling.
“And you can’t tell other people how to throw a party,” Lulu continued. “Or who to invite, no matter how wonderful and cute you think you are. You’re not so great, Alfie Jakes.”
“I absolutely do not think I’m so great,” Alfie objected, her heart thudding. “But if you’re talking about rules, you forgot a big one, Lulu. At our school, you’re not supposed to tell kids about parties if you’re not inviting everyone.”
“Oh. So now I have to invite the boys, too?” Lulu scoffed, as if that’s what Alfie was saying. “You want me to ask twenty-six kids to my sleepover? That’s just silly!”
“That’s not what I meant,” Alfie told her.
“You are definitely not coming to the best sleepover ever on Saturday, Alfie,” Lulu said, getting to her feet. “But I guess this means that now you’re going to tell on me for just barely mentioning the sleepover at school? And for supposedly making Bella cry?”
By now, Alfie was so mad that she felt like her way-too-hot head was about to pop. “I never said I was gonna tell on you,” she said, trying to sound calm.
“It’s not my fault if I’m the fun one around here,” Lulu said, straightening her outfit before stalking up the slope so she could hurry to class.
“But what happened to us being friends?” Alfie called after her, trying to catch up. “Don’t you even remember, Lulu? Our dolls? The cartoons?”
“I could never be friends with a tattletale!” Lulu shouted over her shoulder.
And just like that, Alfie thought, she was the bad guy.
Huh?
As they entered the nearly empty main hall, Alfie tried to imagine using her own strong fingers to turn back the metal hands of the big, tick-y clock that hung above the school office. If she could turn back time, she could change her mind about talking to Lulu.
Would she?
Maybe I would, and maybe I wouldn’t, Alfie admitted to herself.
She honestly didn’t know for sure.
“You were trying to boss my mama around, that’s what you were doing,” Lulu said, lowering her voice as they hurried down the echoing hall toward class. “And I’m telling everyone.”
“Telling them what?” Alfie whisper-shouted. “That I wanted to keep you from hurting other girls’ feelings?”
“Not everyone’s feelings,” Lulu argued again, pausing at Mr. Havens’s closed classroom door. “And I am telling the other girls about how you tried to ruin my sleepover.”
“And then who’s gonna be the tattletale around here?” Alfie cried just as Mr. Havens opened the door.
“Ladies?” he said, looming over them.
He sounded calm—but scary.
9 “Meet Your Neighbors!”
“Ooh! Trouble,” Bryan Martinez said with glee as Mr. Havens marched the two girls to their tables. Scooter high-fived his hand in the air across the room toward Bryan.
Scooter sat right next to Alfie, so she saw the whole thing.
And she liked Bryan. He was okay, usually.
“No more noise from you, Mr. Martinez,” Mr. Havens said as he waited for Alfie to take her seat. Then he led Lulu to the table behind Alfie’s.
“Okay, Coach,” Bryan said, cheerful in spite of the scolding.
“We didn’t mean to be late, Mr. Havens,” Alfie told her teacher, deciding to take the blame. “But I had to talk to Lulu about something really important. Personal and important. So it was my fault we—”
“Social Studies is important too,” Mr. Havens interrupted. “And so is my time.”
“Is this going on my permanent record?” Lulu asked as Mr. Havens sat her down. “Because Alfie’s not even my friend anymore.”
A zing! of excitement went through every girl in class.
Especially Alfie.
“I’ll decide later about your permanent record,” Mr. Havens said. “Bella?” he asked. “Give Alfie and Lulu their ‘Meet Your Neighbors!’ worksheets, please. They can catch up with the rest of us the best they can.”
Bella had been standing near Mr. Havens’s desk, a few drooping papers in her hand. Her nose was still pink from crying in the bathroom. Bella handed Alfie what looked like a map of the United States and whispered, “Sorry.”
“That’s okay,” Alfie murmured back, examining the piece of paper.
She didn’t know all the states yet. Was she supposed to know them?
And—“Meet Your Neighbors!” What did that mean?
A week ago, her class had done a worksheet called “I’m on the Map!” that was about their local streets and the town of Oak Glen. Not about all the states in the country.
Mr. Havens was thinking big this week.
“Now, Alan,” he said to the new boy at Alfie’s table. “Before we were interrupted, we were learning where California is on the map. So, what states are our neighbors? That is, what states touch the California border?”
Alan’s face turned pale. He did not like being called on in class.
“I know you know one of the states, Phoebe,” Mr. Havens said, switching victims. “You used to live there,” he added, giving her a hint.
“Arizona,” Phoebe said, beaming.
“And how many North American neighbors does California have other than Arizona?” Mr. Havens asked. “Think fast,” he added, making an impatient circle-movement with his gigantic hand.
“Not counting the Pacific Ocean?” Scooter asked when Mr. Havens called on him.
“That’s right,” Mr. Havens said. “State neighbors. Hup, hup, All-Stars.”
“Two,” Hanni said when Mr. Havens called on her. “Nevada and Oregon.”
“Correct,” Mr. Havens said with a brisk nod. But he was smiling.
On and on the Social Studies lesson went, with Mr. Havens hopping all over the map as he asked his questions.
What states had the kids visited?
What states did they want to visit?
What states had he and Mrs. Havens visited?
In what states did the kids’ grandparents live?
And, always, what were all those states’ neighbors?
But Alfie had trouble paying attention. Has Mr. Havens forgotten that Lulu and I came in late? she kept asking herself, hoping it was true. Maybe our trouble is all in the past! And maybe Lulu will forgive
