Thanks a lot, Lulu!
Each outdoors lunch table at Oak Glen was set on a concrete pad surrounded by the world’s most worn-out grass. The picnic tables—backed by a chain-link fence—were equal distances apart. They were placed in a line that stretched across the far end of the big playground.
But it was funny how every table seemed different, Alfie thought, looking at them now. Phoebe waved at Alfie and Arletty, her blond hair shining in the sunlight. She pointed down at the two spots she had saved.
This second-grade girls’ table was perfect. It was shadier than the others, with little trees planted nearby. Each tree was tied to two tall stakes—which was kind of harsh, Alfie sometimes thought, pitying them.
Alfie and Arletty ran up the small hill to their table, where several girls were talking and eating lunch. Lulu Marino was the center of attention today, of course. The girls around her were on their best behavior, as if hoping to impress her.
“The point is,” Lulu was saying, “my sleepover will be just like the ones the big girls have.” Hanni nodded and offered her a cookie from a small plastic bag. “So we won’t be kindergarten babies anymore,” Lulu said, continuing her explanation. “And Mama says I can invite six girls, including me.”
Including her? Alfie almost burst out laughing. How funny would that be, she wondered—to have a sleepover and not invite yourself?
The only thing weirder would be to invite yourself. “Ooh, thanks! I’d love to come to my own party.”
“That means you can ask five girls,” Bella said, doing the mental math.
And Lulu was already good friends with Hanni and Suzette, Alfie thought, subtracting with her fingers under the table. So Lulu would only be inviting three other girls to the best sleepover ever.
Including Bella, there was now a total of thirteen girls in their class. And if you subtracted Lulu, Hanni, and Suzette from those thirteen girls, only three out of the ten girls left would be asked to Lulu’s sleepover.
And seven girls would not be invited.
This was the only kind of arithmetic that really counted in primary school, Alfie thought, frowning.
“Want me to throw away your trash, Lulu?” Suzette was asking.
“Let me do it for her,” Arletty said, jumping to her feet so fast that the shiny red beads at the end of her braids clicked together. And Arletty probably didn’t even want to go to the sleepover! She usually did church stuff with her family on the weekends, Alfie knew. She sighed, longing for the good old days—like last week, before Lulu ruined everything with her “just like the big girls” sleepover plans.
Today, though, Lulu was like a wasp at a picnic table. In other words, she was all anyone could think about.
And not in a good way.
Alfie sneaked a peek over at the boys’ table and the playground. She actually felt jealous of the fun they were having.
For example, Scooter Davis had drawn a big fancy watch on his wrist during writing workshop. He was pretending to time his friends with it as they took turns sprinting to the nearest battered tree.
Two other boys in her class were having an arm-wrestling contest, their elbows planted on the sticky picnic table. The boys’ faces were sweaty, they were grunting, and their arms shook as each boy tried to force the other’s arm down, down, down to the tabletop.
But “the point was,” as Lulu would say, it seemed to be the boys who were having all the fun.
Every single one of them, it looked like.
Did that make Alfie wish she were a boy?
“No,” she said, way too loud.
She just wished she didn’t have to worry so much. This was only the fourth week of school!
“That’s weird,” Lulu announced to the girls who were still sitting at the table. “Alfie’s arguing with herself, it sounds like.”
Arletty and Phoebe each shot Alfie a questioning look.
“I’m not arguing with myself,” Alfie told everyone. “I was just trying to shoo that wasp away. It had its stinger out and everything,” she added, pants on fire.
“What wasp?” a couple of girls said, jumping to their feet in alarm.
“I guess it left,” Alfie said. She shrugged modestly and collected her trash.
“Thanks,” Lulu said, relieved. “Mama says I should never get stung.”
“Because you’re allergic?” Suzette asked, eager to be sorry for her in advance.
“Nope. Because it would hurt me,” Lulu said.
As if Lulu were really such a “special darling,” as Mrs. Marino put it, Alfie thought, almost shaking her head in amazement. It would hurt anyone if they got stung by a wasp!
“Thanks, Alfie,” Lulu said again as the end-of-lunch warning bell rang. “I really mean it.”
“You’re welcome,” Alfie said, softening a little.
And to her surprise, hope fluttered in her chest.
Maybe she had a chance!
5 Pretty Little Princess
“Thanks, Mrs. Sobel,” Alfie said to Hanni’s mom after school the next afternoon, Tuesday. Mrs. Sobel worked at home like Alfie’s mother did, so the carpool schedule was perfect most weeks.
Mrs. Sobel gave Alfie a wide smile, and the woman’s dangly earrings swayed beneath the perfect straight line of her hair. She was a very tidy lady.
“Th-h-h-t,” Alfie and Hanni blurted out to each other in farewell, pushing their tongues through the holes where missing front teeth used to be.
“Ew,” they said at the same time.
“Bye, Hanni,” Alfie added, still giggling as she slammed shut the car door.
She’d been feeling kind of shy around Hanni for the past day and a half. That was probably because Hanni had become such good friends with Lulu Marino once second grade started. Hanni was, after all, part of Lulu’s group of three.
But the carpool face-making and laughter had helped get things back to normal—for now, Alfie thought, sighing.
Since Mrs. Sobel and Mrs. Jakes always waited until each girl was inside her house before
