I blow out a huge sigh. “I bet he’s sorry he invited me to his house.”
“He did what?” Roxanne shouts.
“He asked me over on Saturday to watch some DVDs. And maybe have lunch.”
“See? It doesn’t matter that you’re a year younger than he is. You’ll have a great time. He’s really nice.” Roxanne fiddles with the edge of her shirt. “Bernie, I’m sorry for calling you a jerk. Still friends?”
I can’t stay mad at Roxanne, so I apologize, too. I want to be finished with the drama. “Sure,” I say. “And FYI, I’m just another skater to Wyatt. That’s it.”
Roxanne gets up. “Sounds like he’d like to get to know the girl who hides inside that skater.” She pats me on the back like I’m a faithful golden retriever. “I see a boy from my church on the corner. I’m going to try and catch up to him. Think about what I said.”
As if I could possibly think of anything else.
***
Be Our Guest
In the morning, I call Odelia and tell her to get over here pronto and shoot me whatever lessons I need to get through tomorrow at Wyatt’s. We’ll be away from the park, so it’s my chance to make a different impression. A better impression. I need to know what to do when I meet his mom, how I should act, what I should say! And then there’s lunch. I’ll have to eat in front of him! Dang.
Odelia doesn’t waste any time. She’s clearly excited about her mission to make me into the perfect guest. She pulls out that pink notebook. It’s showing some serious signs of wear and tear. Odelia reads:
“ODELIA’S GUIDE TO THE SOCIAL GRACES
LESSON 8: A GRACIOUS GUEST IS NOT A GHASTLY GUEST
OBJECTIVE: Bernice will learn to present herself as a well-groomed, respectful, and gracious guest. (Note to self: Serena has cursed the day that mud ended up on her rug, compliments of not-so-respectful Bernice, who wore filthy sneakers into our parlor.)”
“My mom tries to get me to leave my sneaks outside. I always forget. I’m sorry. Did I ruin your carpet?”
“No, you didn’t. Serena exaggerates. I am so happy, however, that you’ve apologized. I have chosen this example to emphasize how much you still have to learn. When you enter someone’s home, please be neat and wipe your feet. If your shoes are horribly dirty, take them off.”
“Easy enough. What else?”
“If you’re wearing a coat and the host does not ask to take it, either leave it on, or place it on a chair.”
“How about a hoodie? What if it’s cool tomorrow and I wear a hoodie, but inside it’s burning hot? If I don’t have the chance to get rid of it, sweat will drip from my earlobes, neck, and a bunch of other places. I’ll end up looking like a swamp monster, and my hair will frizz!”
“Use a deodorant and frizzy control spray. If you keep your hoodie on, think cold thoughts. If you remove it, don’t leave it for Wyatt’s parent to pick up.”
“You mean his mother. His mom! What do I say to her?”
Odelia rubs her temple. I’m giving her a workout. She opens her notebook to GENUINE GREETINGS. “Review this.”
I review. Talking to random people is one thing. Talking to Wyatt’s mom is another. I pace and think, and try to get a grip. I desperately want to be one of those kids who can get through social situations without feeling sick.
Odelia yaks on and on about how I shouldn’t touch anything in Wyatt’s house, and how I should be careful not to “knock over any knick knacks.” What in the world is a knick knack and why would I knick a knack? She tells me I should make polite conversation with Wyatt’s little sister and his mom, but not get too nosy. “Speak only when spoken to,” Odelia commands.
“What if I have to go to the bathroom?” I ask, because I need to know how to escape if I can’t hold it in. And I can never hold it in. Mom says I have the bladder of a gerbil.
Odelia walks around me, thinking. “Tell someone, of course.”
“If I tell Wyatt I have to pee, I’ll sound like his little sister!”
Odelia clicks her tongue. “No, you won’t. You’ll figure out how to say it so that you sound like you.”
Great. One thing I’ve already figured out is that Odelia’s answer is no help to me whatsoever.
Odelia moves on to the next lesson, and says:
“ODELIA’S GUIDE TO THE SOCIAL GRACES
LESSON 9: THE TABLE FABLE
OBJECTIVE: Bernice will learn basic table etiquette. Like Aesop, I shall tell a tale of table manners in the hope that the lesson becomes clear. (Note to self: Bernice enjoys eating on the run, and she often resembles an energetic, voracious monkey.)”
I ignore the bit about being a monkey because . . . well, I do eat in a hurry, and I’m always starving. “It’s story time?”
“Listen to this short fable: A young woman is invited for lunch at a neighbor’s house. She arrives and sits down, but never eats a single morsel. Therefore, she dies. The end. Why do you suppose she never ate?”
“She wasn’t hungry?”
Odelia shakes her head.
“She didn’t like what the neighbor was serving?”
Odelia shakes her head harder.
“Wait!” I say. “She had to pee!”
Odelia laughs, but then turns on a stern expression. “Why didn’t she eat? Why didn’t she leave?”
“She was a prisoner?”
Odelia’s a temperamental badger stomping her foot. “Come on, Bernice. Think!”
“Someone’s royal manners are absent,” I say. “Believe me, I don’t have a clue why this person starved to death. Not. A. Clue.”
“She was waiting for the neighbor, also known as
