My Best Frenemy (5 page)

When we get to school, she won’t tell anyone else either. Not until all seven of us arrive. We’re still waiting for Randi.

Brooke gets out her eye shadow and hands it to me. “Chop, chop, Ida, ” she says. “Put some on and pass it around. ”

I do one of my eyelids blue and one of them purple. Stacey takes the sponge stick from me and does her eyes the same way.

“Wait,” Brooke says, taking the eye shadow from us. “I have a better idea. ”

Brooke does three curved stripes across her eyelids—purple, green, and blue. “Ha,” she says. “I’m a rainbow. ”

Jolene and Meeka do rainbow eyes too.

Not Jenna, though. She keeps pacing back and forth, waiting for Randi.

When she finally arrives, Jenna opens her backpack and pulls out a square box. It’s bright purple with lots of curly writing. I see four girls on the lid. They all look very excited to be there. Jenna quickly hides the box against her chest and I hear something rattle inside.

“What is it?” Stacey asks Jenna, passing the eye shadow to Randi.

“A game, ” Jenna says.

“Which game?” Randi asks. “Yahtzee? Twister? Trouble? ”

Jenna shakes her head and licks her lips. “It’s better than any of those. ”

“Well, which one then? ” Brooke asks.

Jenna turns the box over so we can all read the name on the lid.

“Truth or dare! ”
we all say together.

“I
love
truth or dare! ” Jolene says.

“Me too! ” Meeka adds. “My sister has the electronic version. ”

“
Electronic
version?” Randi says. She passes the eye shadow to Brooke without putting any on. “Me and my brothers just dare each other to put ketchup on our ice cream, or eat a dog biscuit, or lick the toilet.” She gives her basketball a bounce. “No electricity required. ”

“Well, if you want to play
my
truth or dare game,” Jenna says, “you have to roll the dice and choose a card. ” Jenna opens the game box and shows us a board with places where two stacks of cards go.

“How do you play? ” I ask.

“See the dice? ” Jenna says. “If you roll two T’s you have to choose someone to take a truth card. Two D’s and the person has to take a dare card. If you get a T and a D the person gets to choose—truth
or
dare. They have to do what the card says no matter what. ”

“Fun, ” I say.

“What do the cards tell you to do?” Stacey asks, nudging closer to Jenna.

Jenna puts the lid back on the box. “You’ll see, ” she says. “At recess. ”

The bell rings and Jenna shoves the box inside her backpack. Everyone heads into the classroom, giggling and whispering about the game.

I follow along, blinking slowly and thinking about the secrets I might have to tell.

And the stuff I might have to lick.

Maybe Randi was right.

Maybe Jenna’s game is
Trouble
after all.

 

When it’s time for our first recess, Mr. Crow starts herding the boys to the coatroom. But we girls hang back. Jenna gets the truth or dare game out of her backpack and we all sit in a circle on the big shapes rug.

“What’s that?” Quinn asks, taking a shortcut across the rug to get back to his desk. He grabs his sweatshirt off his chair and then pokes his head into our circle.

“Jenna got truth or dare for Christmas, ” Brooke explains.

Quinn studies the cards Jenna is sorting into two piles. “Lemme see,” he says, snatching a truth card from Jenna.

“Hey!” Jenna shouts, giving Quinn’s hand a slap.

“Ouch! ” Quinn pulls his hand away and steps back, reading the card he swiped.
“Do you still suck your thumb? ”

Quinn grins and looks at Jenna. “Well? Do you? ”

I gulp a little because sometimes when I wake up at night my thumb is in my mouth. I have no idea how it got there. I would mostly die if I had to tell the other girls that secret.

Plus, if I got a card that said
Do you still play with baby toys?
I would mostly die again because the answer is
yes
. I have a toy farm set I keep under my bed. I got it from Grandma May when I was even littler than Rachel. Sometimes I pull it out and play with the plastic animals, especially the pink cow and the red horse. They always end up getting married. And the orange rooster who tries to run down the other animals with the toy tractor. Sometimes my Barbies get involved too. It’s a lot of fun to play farm, but I have to be careful because the barn door moos when you open and close it. Noisy secrets are hard to keep.

Jenna jumps up and grabs for the card.

Quinn butt-slides across his desk to get away. “So, is that a
yes?
” he says to her.

“I do
not
suck my thumb,” Jenna snaps. “And you are not allowed to play! ” She reaches across Quinn’s desk and grabs his wrist.

Quinn squirms away and wipes his arm on his jeans. “Yuck!” he says. “Your thumb’s wet. Have you been sucking it? ”

We all giggle.

Jenna growls.

“All right, all right,” Mr. Crow says, coming back into the room. “What’s going on? ”

“Quinn stole my card! ” Jenna shouts.

Mr. Crow looks at Quinn. “Did you? ”

Quinn shrugs. “I was just having a little fun.” He flicks the card at Jenna. It flutters to the floor.

Jenna snatches it up and sits back down.

“Head outside, ” Mr. Crow says. “All of you. ”

“But we’re playing a game! ” Jenna says.

Mr. Crow shakes his head. “Save it for later. ” He steers Quinn toward the coatroom. “You could all use some fresh air. ”

Jenna gives Quinn a glare.

Quinn flashes another grin and darts out the door.

Jenna throws the game back into its box. “It’s too windy to take this outside,” she grumbles. “The cards might blow away. ”

“If we eat lunch quick, maybe Mr. Crow will let us come back to the room early and play then,” Stacey suggests.

We all agree and head for the coatroom. We put on our stuff and tromp outside.

A few kids are shooting baskets on the blacktop. Other kids are playing football in the snow. But most kids are climbing around on the big snowbanks that circle the blacktop like a ring of miniature mountains.

“Hey, look,” Randi says, pointing to one of the snowbanks. All of the boys from our class are crawling up and down it. Except for Zane. He’s standing at the bottom of the bank, shouting directions as the other boys pack and chisel the snow into a fort.

Randi turns to us. “Let’s build a fort too. Then we can bomb the boys!” She scoops up some snow from the edge of the blacktop and lets it fly. It just misses Zane’s head.

Zane whips around. “No fair!” he shouts at Randi. “I’m broken! ” He flaps the loose sleeve of his jacket where his left arm would be if it wasn’t in a cast.

“You only need one hand to throw a snowball, ” Randi shouts back and lets another one fly.

“But it takes two hands to pack one!” Zane starts scrambling up the side of the boys’ snowbank.

Quinn’s head pops up from behind it. He sees Jenna and cracks a smile. “Hey, baby-Jenna! ” he shouts. “Waa, waa, waa-aaa . . . ” Then he sticks his thumb into his mouth and pretends to suck it.

Jenna scowls at Quinn. Then she marches toward a snowbank that’s kitty-corner from the boys’ fort. “C’mon!” she shouts to us. “Let’s get ’em! ”

We hurry after her. A minute later we are packing the top of our bank into a wall, carving out peepholes, and making ammunition.

The boys must figure out that we’re up to something, because pretty soon I see Quinn sneaking toward us.

I stop packing snowballs and give Randi a nudge. “I spy a spy, ” I say, pointing to Quinn.

Randi looks up and sees Quinn sneak-crouching toward our fort. Her eyes narrow and the corners of her mouth curl up. She wipes the back of her mitten across her nose and says, “We’ve got company, men. ” She calls us men even though it’s obvious we are girls.

Everyone peeks over the top of our snowbank.

Quinn sees us and grabs a second grader for camouflage.

The bell rings and the blacktop starts to clear. Quinn’s second grader squirms away.

“Ready . . . aim . . . fire!” Randi shouts. Even though I can’t throw very far, I can throw straight. My snowball catches Quinn square in the chin.

He spits snow, then he smiles. “Killer shot, Ida! ”

Even though he’s the enemy, I smile back.

Quinn’s a goner. Before he knows it, Jenna’s gotten him in the gut, Jolene’s slammed his right shoulder, and Meeka his left.

He turns and scrambles back to his fort, taking three more shots in the back from Randi, Stacey, and Brooke. The other boys haul him over the top of the snowbank.

The playground attendant blows her whistle. “Head inside! ” she shouts at us.

The boys take off.

But not us girls.

We stand on top of our snowbank, cheering and beating our chests like we are the bravest girls in the world.

I just hope I’m brave enough for truth or dare.

Just like we hoped, Mr. Crow lets us come back to our classroom early after lunch. Jenna takes out the truth or dare game again and sets it on the shapes rug. We all huddle up.

“I’ll start, ” Jenna says, rolling the dice. “See? I rolled a T and a D. That means I get to pick someone to do a truth card
or
a dare card. It’s up to me. Any questions? ”

“Yeah,” Brooke says. “How come you get to go first? ”

“Because it’s my game, ” Jenna says. “If you don’t like it, you can go throw snowballs at the boys. ”

“Hmm, ” Brooke says. “Tempting. ”

Jenna looks us over like she’s a spider and we’re a bunch of flies caught in her web. “I choose Stacey, ” she says. “Truth or dare? ”

Stacey wiggles closer to me. “Which one should I choose? ” she whispers.

“Definitely dare, ” I whisper back.

“Really? ” Stacey says. “Why? ”

“If you do a dare you will only feel silly for a minute. But if you have to tell the truth about some big secret, you might feel silly forever. ”

“
Choose
, Stacey,” Jenna says impatiently. “Truth or dare? ”

Stacey thinks for a moment.
“Dare, ”
she says, smiling at me.

Stacey draws a dare card and reads it out loud.
“Dance like a chicken and snort like a pig! ”

Everyone squeals.

Stacey jumps up and starts flapping and snorting. It would take a lot more than a chicken dance to embarrass her.

We all laugh like crazy.

Stacey takes a bow.

“Now you roll the dice, ” Jenna tells Stacey.

Stacey does and two T’s land faceup. Someone has to tell the truth.

Stacey’s eyes wander from girl to girl. They land on me. “Ida, ” she says. “I choose you. ”

“Gee, thanks, ” I say.

I draw a truth card from the stack.
“Tell about the grossest thing you’ve ever done. ”

Randi snorts. “I could come up with a million.”

I think for a moment. “Once, I sucked all the salt off a bag of corn chips. ”

“What’s so gross about that? ” Jenna asks.

“Afterward, I put the chips back in the bag. ”

“Eew! ”
Brooke says.

“Then later, ” I add, “my dad ate them. ”

“Double
eew
! ” Jolene says.

“Did you tell your dad? ” Meeka asks.

“Um... I told him ‘No thanks’ when he asked if I wanted any. ”

Everyone laughs.

Randi gives me a thumbs-up.

I smile a little because having to tell a silly story isn’t as bad as having to dance like a chicken.

It’s my turn. I roll a T and a D.

“You have to choose someone who hasn’t had a turn yet, ” Jenna informs me.

“Uh-huh, ” I say. “Thanks for the tip. ”

Jenna sits up higher on her knees. She flicks her braids off her shoulders and does a cough.

I glance around the circle. “I choose . . . Meeka, ” I say.

Meeka smiles.

Jenna slouches.

Meeka picks up a truth card.
“What do you want to be when you grow up? ”
she reads from the card.

“Lame, ” Randi mumbles.

“That’s easy, ” Meeka says. “I want to be a doctor, like my mom. ”

“Eew, ” Brooke says. “Too much blood. ”

“And guts, ” Randi adds. “Once, my brother cut his hand so bad the
meat
was hanging out. ”

Brooke plugs her ears. “I don’t want to know. ”

“It was all pink and bumpy,” Randi continues. “Like that fungus that grows on tree stumps. ”

Brooke rocks and hums.

Randi shakes her head. “Man, you should have seen the doctor try to fit it all back inside his hand. ”

The rest of us plug our ears too.

Except for Meeka. She just smiles and rolls the dice.

It was too cold to go sledding over the weekend, so I mostly just read and watched TV and worked on fish names. I made a whole list of names, but I didn’t like any of them, so I used my oil pastels to draw a picture of my fish over the list. Now I have a very colorful fish with lots of names hidden inside.

“Did you feed your fish? ” Mom asks as she pulls my jacket hood up over my hat on Monday morning. She winds a long scarf around my neck and ties a knot to keep out the cold.

“Yep, ” I say. “Yesterday. ”

Mom frowns. “Ida, you’re supposed to feed him . . . her . . .
it
. . . every morning.” I slip the knot up over my mouth.

“What about the filter? Did you check it for gunk? ”

“I’m pretty sure it’s gunk-free, ” I say through my knot. “I have a very clean fish. ”

Mom narrows her eyes. “After school,” she says, “feed that no-name fish and check the filter. ”