My New Best Friend (4 page)

I walk over to one of the sinks and try to think of all the fun things it can do. I turn on the cold water faucet. Then I turn on the hot water faucet. Then I pump soap straight down the drain.

Stacey hops off her sink and turns on the water.
Then she turns on the water in the next sink, too. Pretty soon the whole place sounds like Niagara Falls.

A cumulus cloud of suds starts creeping up out of my drain. I pump in more soap and the suds cloud crawls right over the sides of the sink and plops onto the floor. "Hey, look!" I say to Stacey. "Suds-O-Rama!"

Stacey giggles and pumps soap into the other sinks. It isn't long before the floor is so foamy you'd swear we have a bad case of rabies or something.

A big glob of suds falls right onto Stacey's shoe. She does a fake scream. I fake-scream back. Each time a new glob falls, we fake-scream together. Again and again and again.

"
What
is going on in here?!" someone suddenly barks.

Stacey and I whip around.

Mrs. Madson is standing in the doorway of the girls' bathroom with a big frown on her face. Apparently, she doesn't realize what a fun place this is.

I quickly turn off the water in my sink. Stacey turns the water off in the other sinks. We stand
there staring at the foamy floor. The only sound I can hear is the popping of soap bubbles. And the tapping of Mrs. Madson's blood-red shoe.

"Um ... we got dirty ... playing dodgeball," Stacey says quickly. "And so our teacher told us to come in here and get cleaned up."

"I guess we got a little carried away," I add.

Mrs. Madson sucks in a long, deep breath. When she lets it out again I'm pretty sure I see flames flickering from her nose. "Clean. Up. This.
Mess.
"

I start cranking the paper towel machine like I'm an organ monkey. A moment later, I'm down on my hands and knees sopping up suds. So is Stacey.

"Go back to your classroom
immediately,
" Mrs. Madson says when the mess is gone. "The next time I catch you goofing around in here I will send you to Principal Stevens!"

"Thank you," I say.

We squeeze past Mrs. Madson and bolt out the door.

Everyone is back from recess when we get to the classroom.

"All done helping Mrs. Madson?" Mrs. Eddy asks as we zoom to our desks.

"Yes, we're very fast alphabetizers," Stacey says.

"Not to mention cleaners," I add.

I flip open my desk and take out a notebook and pencil.

I write
I will never goof around again
five times.

In cursive.

"I'd rather touch worm guts than get caught goofing around again," I say to Stacey as we walk through the park on our way to the Purdee Good after school. "Maybe even
eat
them. Next time, let's ask the mermaid not to let us have
too
much fun."

Stacey laughs. "My dad says you can never have too much fun
or
too many friends."

My toe catches on a tree root and I stumble a little. "But one
best
friend is enough, right?"

Stacey smiles. "One best friend is plenty," she says. "But it doesn't hurt to have a few back-up friends, does it?"

"Back-up friends are okay," I say. "I like Randi and Meeka and Jolene. And even Brooke, when she isn't showing off her latest pageant crown."

"And even Jenna?" Stacey asks.

"Um ... I like Jenna when she's out of town," I offer.

We walk out of the park and turn the corner on to Main Street, which leads right past Miss Woo's Dance Studio. The studio is on the first floor of an old brick building, and Miss Woo's apartment is on the second floor. Stacey says Miss Woo grew up, tragically, in a Chinese orphanage and then ran away to fulfill her dream of becoming a ballet dancer. I've never gotten around to telling Stacey I overheard Miss Woo say she was born and raised in Chicago.

I glance inside the big studio window and see Miss Woo standing on her tiptoes, only she's not dancing. She's reaching into a cabinet which is twice as tall as she is. She pulls out a small shoe box and carries it over to Jenna Drews, who is sitting on a bench taking off her regular shoes. Mr. Drews is there, too, holding a bright orange leotard with exploding fireworks on it. Rachel Drews and some other kindergarteners spin and skip across the big wooden floor.

"Speaking of ol' green braids," I say to Stacey,
pointing through the window at Jenna. I laugh. Stacey just smiles and keeps walking.

We cross the street to the Purdee Good Café. Stacey opens the jingly door and we walk inside. The Purdee Good used to be the kind of café my dad calls a
greasy spoon.
But last year Quinn Kloud's parents bought it and they don't believe in grease. Now there are bright blue curtains in the front windows and the walls are painted the color of cinnamon. The whole place smells like cinnamon, too. A big blackboard hangs over the counter and the daily menu is written on it with colored chalk. Even though most of the stuff they serve includes bean sprouts and organic mushrooms, I like coming here.

Stacey's mom is standing behind the counter, putting cookies into a glass display case. There's a name tag on her shirt that says, hi! i'm your purdee good server: kelli.

Kelli looks up at us and smiles. She has the exact same smile Stacey has. In fact, she pretty much has the same face as Stacey. Only her eyes are blue instead of brown. And her hair is blond and spiky like the top of a lemon meringue pie.
Stacey's hair is longer and darker and curlier. Maybe Stacey got her dark eyes and hair from her dad. I don't know because I've never met him.

"Hi, guys!" Kelli calls to us.

"Hi, Kelli!" we call back.

"The usual?" she asks, holding up a giant chocolate-chip cookie.

We nod and walk over to the counter while Kelli puts the cookie on a plate. She slides it toward us. "How was school?" she asks.

"Oh, you know," I say. "The usual."

Kelli smiles at me. Then she turns to Stacey. "What about the math quiz you missed yesterday? Did you have it today?"

"Yep," Stacey says. "I think I got a perfect score."

"That's my girl!" Kelli says, giving Stacey's arm a squeeze. "I'll get you two some milk to go with the cookie."

As soon as Kelli's busy with the milk, I turn to Stacey. "Why did you do that?" I whisper.

"Do what?" Stacey whispers back.

"Lie about taking the math quiz today."

"Oh, that," Stacey says. "Well, I couldn't tell her the real reason we didn't have it. I mean, she would never believe that an evil mermaid put a spell on it."

"You could have said it's still canceled without explaining why," I say.

"But then she would have made me study for it again tonight." Stacey slides the cookie toward me. "You break, I choose," she says.

I pick up the cookie and break it in half. Stacey chooses the half she wants and I take the other. "Still," I say, "what if the spell wears off and we really do have to take the quiz and you get a lot wrong?"

Stacey gives me a patient smile. "Relax, Ida," she says. "Kelli won't remember any of this by tomorrow. She's got more important stuff to think about."

I'm just about to ask what kind of stuff when Kelli returns with our milk. "I have to work late tonight, Stace," she says, "but Grandma will be home."

Stacey nods.

"Oh, and Ida, your mom called a little while
ago," Kelli says to me. "She wanted to remind you that she'll pick you up in a few minutes. Something about a haircut?"

I sigh. "Oh, yeah," I say. "I forgot. It's just a trim."

Stacey picks up her glass of milk. "Let's sit at a booth until your mom comes, okay, Ida?" she says.

I follow Stacey to a booth near the back of the café. We slip off our backpacks and sit down across from each other. Stacey taps her cookie on the edge of her glass and says, "I call this meeting of The Secret Mermaid Club to order."

"Here, here," I reply, tapping my cookie on the table. I pull the mermaid out of my backpack and set her behind the napkin container so she's mostly hidden. "Let's do our club pledge."

We put our hands on top of the mermaid. "I solemnly swear to light this mermaid every night no matter how much the sight of her evil, glowing grin makes me want to pee my pants," we say together.

We lean back in the booth and work on our milk and cookies. "Now what?" I ask.

"Now we discuss today's spell," Stacey says. "I think it went well, don't you?"

I practically choke on my cookie. "Went
well?
We almost got sent to the principal's office!"

"That's only because the mermaid is still getting warmed up," Stacey says. "The more we use her, the stronger she'll get. That's why we should ask for another spell right away so she gets more practice."

"Okay," I say. "But if it involves a paper towel dispenser, I'm out."

Stacey smiles. "It should involve just the two of us doing something fun." She looks around the café, thinking. I look around, too. Kelli is putting away dishes behind the counter. A man wearing a suit is sitting at a table, reading a newspaper. The door jingles and two older ladies walk in, laughing and talking. They sit at the counter and Kelli sets two coffee cups in front of them.

"Kelli told me some people come in here every day," Stacey says.

"That works for me," I say, taking a bite out of my cookie. "Only let's skip the coffee part."

"It doesn't work for me," Stacey says. "Not when I have to go to my dad's." Stacey's quiet for
a moment and then she gets her far-off look. "Unless...," she says.

"Unless what?"

Stacey looks at me. "Unless that's our next spell."

"Huh?"

Stacey leans in. "Ida," she whispers. "Can I spend the weekend at your house?"

"Um ... of course, but ... don't you have to..."

"Good!" Stacey cuts in. "Because I want to spend the weekend at your house, too.
This
weekend."

Stacey puts her hand on the mermaid and scrunches up her eyes like she's trying to bend a spoon with her mind. "Dear Mermaid," she whispers. "Make it so I don't have to go to my dad's this weekend. Make it so I can spend the weekend with Ida!"

Stacey opens her eyes again and looks at the mermaid.

I look at her, too. "Are you sure the mermaid is powerful enough to do something like
that?
"

Stacey thinks for a moment. "Yes," she replies. "If we help her a little."

"Help her?"

Stacey leans in again. "Here's what we'll do. First, ask your mom if I can spend the weekend with you. Tell her Kelli will be working and my grandma will be ... um ... at a bowling tournament."

"I didn't know your grandma was a bowler," I say.

"She's not," Stacey replies. "It will make the story more ... interesting."

"But ... isn't that ... lying?"

Stacey thinks for a moment. "It's more like...
imagining.
"

"Um—"

"Then after school on Friday," Stacey continues, "I'll call my dad and tell him I'm sick and need to stay home with Kelli. Then I'll tell Kelli that my dad called to say he has to go out of town for work and won't be back until Monday. Then I'll ask her if I can spend the weekend with you instead! I know she'll say yes."

Stacey gives me a big smile.

I tap my cookie on the table and fidget a little. "It sounds sort of ... complicated," I say.

"Don't worry, Ida," Stacey replies. "The mermaid will take care of the complicated stuff."

Stacey keeps going over the plan again and again and I keep nodding like it all makes a lot of sense. But inside I'm wishing I could draw it out in my sketchbook like a comic strip. Then I could see the beginning, middle, and end all at once, like Stacey can. Then maybe it would feel more like a story than a lie.

"Ask your mom tonight," Stacey says. "And tell me what she says tomorrow."

The door jingles and my eyes dart up, expecting to see my mom walking in.

But it's not my mom.

It's Jenna Drews.

Jenna walks into the Purdee Good with her dad. I grab the mermaid and stick her back inside my backpack just as Jenna zeroes in on us.

"Hi, Stacey!" she calls from across the café. A moment later her green braids are bobbing over to our booth. I dunk my cookie in my milk and watch it turn to mush.

"Hi, Jenna!" Stacey says back. "Do you want to sit with us?"

"Of course," Jenna says, scooting in next to Stacey. "I just got done shopping."

"What for?" I mumble. "New hair?"

"New
ballet shoes,
" Jenna says. "
All
my shoes are getting too small." She lifts her foot and wags it around. "I'm a size
six
now. In
women's.
"

I tuck my size-four feet under the booth bench and take a bite out of my soggy cookie.

"I got my dad to buy me a new leotard, too," Jenna continues. "It's orange with fireworks. You'll love it, Stacey."

"I can't wait to see it!" Stacey replies.

"I'll wear it to dance on Thursday," Jenna says. "Unless you want to see it now. It's in my car. Let's—"

"She can't," I interrupt.

Jenna whips a look at me. "Why not?"

"Because we're in the middle of ... something," I say.

"What?" Jenna asks.

"Um ... nothing," I mumble.

"We were just talking about our new clu—," Stacey starts to say.

I give her a kick.

"Ouch!"

"Sorry," I say. "My feet must be getting too big for this booth."

"Your new
club?
" Jenna asks.

Stacey rubs her shin, and gives Jenna a nod.

I give Stacey a very serious look. Then I turn to Jenna. "What Stacey means is we were talking about how
stupid
clubs are. And ... um ... how we would never want to start one."

"Oh ... r-right," Stacey says. "I forgot. I mean, yes, that's what we were talking about."

Jenna lifts her chin. "I belong to
three
clubs," she says. "And none of them are stupid. My mother says clubs build character, confidence, and creativity."

"Brought to you by the letter C," I mumble.

Just then Mr. Drews walks up to our booth carrying a take-n-bake pizza. "Time to go, Jenna," he says.