The Encyclopedia of Me (25 page)

“None of your business,” I said.

“Come on,” he said. “I'm trying to be nice. And I'm all strung out on painkillers! Whatever you tell me, I'll likely forget.” He made an eye-rolling, baked face.

“Never mind,” I said. “You wouldn't get it.”

“Whatever.” He shrugged and yawned. “Get off the couch, I want a nap. And I can't go upstairs.”

“I'm going,” I said. “Thanks for caring. Or for
almost
caring. You're a real champ.”
120

He grinned. “You're welcome.”

I grabbed my board and went out.
121
It was windy and drizzling a bit. I shivered and dropped the board. Skating warmed me up. I didn't feel like Drop Mac, so I decided to lurk on my own. I went to the old pool first, but there were kids there I didn't know, so I just kept going. Finally, I ended up behind a preschool, where there was some playground equipment that was tiny and had ramps and bridges. I skated for a long time by myself. It was awesome. I did some tricks, but no one was with me, so I didn't know what they were called. I wished Kai was there.

I skated back home again all sweaty and I wanted to tell someone about the place, so I called Ruth Quayle. I wasn't used to it yet. Calling her. I had to look up her number again and everything.

“Hi, Ruth,” I said. “I lurked the coolest spot today.”

“Hi, Tink,” she said. “Where did you go?”

I described it. “Wow,” she said. “It sounds wicked. But I have to tell you something, and I don't want you to take it the wrong way.”

“What?” I said. I was nervous. It sounded bad, like she was about to say that we couldn't be friends. That's what I thought she was going to say. I was so sure of it, I almost hung up. “What?” I said again.

“It's just that I quit,” she said. “Actually, I turned my deck into a totes awesome side table for my room!”

“What?” I said. “You turned your skateboard into a bedside table? How? Or WHY?”

“I decided to focus on making films with Jedgar!
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We're making the coolest one. You'll see it in drama, it's so wicked. Lots of blood and gore and whatnot!”

“Um,” I said. “Wow.”

“I still want to be friends!” she said. “I just am not skating anymore. You don't care, right? It's not like you were just using me for skateboarding, anyway. So what's the diff?”

“Right,” I said. “I mean, of course. I mean. You know what? I have to go.”

I hung up.

“I'm OK,” I said out loud. “I can skate without Ruth. It can be my thing. I don't need someone else to do it too.” I was totally lying to myself, of course, and I knew it. I really wanted to have a friend to skateboard with! I didn't want one more thing to do alone!

Though what I really wanted to have was a friend to do dumb things with, like to rescue miniature pugapoos or sneak into films with. And Ruth already had that person, she had Jedgar. The skating thing was just a . . . thing.

“I am OK by myself,” I said out loud. “I am enough just on my own. I don't need anyone.” Then I pretended that was true.

Which was sort of like trying to pretend there isn't a huge, green parrot screeching swearwords from his perch on your head, when there actually is one.

What? It could happen.

See also
Anderson, Freddie Blue; Boarding, Skate; Lurk; Quayle, Ruth.

The Party of the Year! The annual celebration of the birthdays of Tink Aaron-Martin and Freddie Blue Anderson, organized by Freddie Blue Anderson's mom.

It is the same. Every year. Except not exactly the same. When we were seven, there was a farm theme. When we were ten, it was mermaids. My favorite was the circus theme when we were eleven, even though there were elephants on the cake.

Let's assume that's not going to happen this year.

But actually, I didn't know what I could assume will happen this year.

Not knowing was like a knife through the tough muscly tissue of my heart. I didn't even know if we were going to do a party or if I should give Freddie Blue the really expensive ceramic technology curling iron I bought for her as a gift or if we just weren't
that
kind of friends anymore. I mean, what if she gave me a potted plant or a tube of toothpaste? Humiliation! What if I wasn't even
invited
to Virgorama?

I was so distracted by the stress of it all that I didn't even hear Kai rolling up behind me while I walked to school. I didn't skate to school because Seb still hadn't noticed that I'd “borrowed” his deck, and as he'd see me in the mornings because we left at the same time, I couldn't chance it.

“Isadora!” said Kai.

I jumped. “Argh!” I screamed.

“Sorry,” he said. “Are you OK?”

“It's OK,” I said. “I was just, um, startled.”

He flipped the board up and caught it in his hand. “Can I, like, walk with you?” he said.

“Of course!” I said. I smiled. Mom told me a long time ago that if you smile a lot around someone, they'll think you're pretty. Mom was usually right.

“Um,” he said. “So Freddie Blue sort of . . . invited me to your guys' birthday party on Saturday?”

“She did?” I said. “I mean, she said it was for both of us?”

“You didn't know?” he said. “I thought it might be something weird like that, because she was all . . . um. I hope I didn't wreck your surprise party. I'm such a jerk. I did, didn't I?”

I laughed. “No!” I said. “We have the party every year.”

I felt lighter. Literally
lighter
. Like I was floating! Every year! This year would be no different! Obvi! Why was I so worried?

So I went to Freddie Blue's at noon on Saturday. She'd written me a note in Spanish that said, “Come over early and help me do my hair!
Besos!
FB.” I knew it was a lie, because she'd never let me touch her hair, but still, it was sweet. For some reason, I was nervous and my armpits were wet, which was really wrecking my mood because these gross little wet moons were marking up my puffy yellow pirate shirt, which I wore as a joke that wasn't funny.
123
I went into her house without knocking because the door was mostly open. And I started singing “Happy Birthday” in Spanish because it's much more sophisto that way. Then I heard voices.

More than one voice.

Freddie Blue's voice. And Stella's voice.

I mean, I should have known. They were BFFs now. I was just the third wheel. You never want to be the third wheel. The fourth, sure. But not the third.

I followed the voices to FB's room.

“Tink!” squealed FB, and she jumped up and hugged me. I passed her her gift without saying anything. She opened it and said, “Wow, Tink! This is so so so so awesome! Thank you so much!” Then she whispered, “What I got you is sooooo much better than a gift, though! Just wait!”

And I'm like, “Um, OK.” Then Stella started shrieking about my armpits because she does not have any manners, and next thing you know, Stella and FB were both doubled over laughing.

“It's cute!” laughed FB. “We're not laughing AT you. It's just that even your sweat stains are . . . cute! And adorable! It's because we love you that we laugh, right, Stell?”

“Right,” laughed Stella. She grabbed her sides. “Cute!”

“Shut up,” I said. I grabbed the hair dryer and started drying the stains, which made them laugh even harder.

“Don't pee,” I hissed at FB. She stopped laughing.

If you're thinking, “Oh, well, it will get better when everyone arrives!” you are dead wrong and should seriously consider just reading the book instead of trying to get ahead of where it's at.

So everyone arrived. I didn't know half the people. More and more kids piled in and started eating the food that FB's mom had put out. There was tons of it, popcorn and chips and veggies and dip. Everything was pink. Bright pink.

“What's the theme?” I whispered to FB.

“It's Barbie!” she whispered back. “It's supposed to be ironic because we're too old for Barbies. Isn't that hilair?”

“It doesn't make sense,” I said in my normal voice. “That's not irony, it's just . . .”

“I totally love it sooooo much,” she said. She laughed. “Didn't you wonder why I was wearing this?” She pointed at her outfit, which I hadn't really thought about because I was busy fixing my sweat stains. It was pink. And sparkly. And short. “I'm Barbie!” she laughed. “Do you get it?” She punched my shoulder.

I felt a bit sick to my stomach. Barbie? I hated Barbies. I have always hated them! FB knew that!

Nothing about this party was for me.

I whispered, “I'm not feeling that well, I think I might have to go home.”

She squealed. “Oh, TINK, you're so funny! Remember how you used to not be funny? With the joke? Now you're hysterical! You're such a scream!”

“Why are you talking like that?” I said.

But she wasn't listening. She was busy hugging people. People I didn't even know. I closed my eyes and wished I was in my tree. Who were all those PEOPLE? And why would they care about my birthday?

Answer: They wouldn't! They cared about Freddie Blue's birthday, Miss Popular Barbie. I sat down on the stairs between the kitchen and the outside door. People passed me but mostly they ignored me. I ignored them back, fiercely, with my patented Tink Aaron-Martin Stare of Nonchalance.

There was something about being in a big crowd of kids my own age that made me feel like I wasn't even a kid my own age, like I was too different to belong. Like I was just pretending to be me.

It got old pretty quickly.

I was just about to pick my sweaty, puffy self up to go home when Freddie Blue stood up on the kitchen counter and started yelling, “Attention! Attention!”

“Oh, no,” I said to myself. “What now?” I scanned the room again, but still no Kai. I guessed he wasn't coming.

Freddie Blue cleared her throat and giggled. “So we are, like, here for my birthday!” she shouted. At least seven parts of my insides died of embarrassment right then. She was so . . . loud. OTT (Over The Top)! Show-offy! Which would work if she was a rock star at a concert. But she was just a kid on a counter. I closed my eyes.

“But more important than that, we are here for TINK'S birthday!” I don't know why she was yelling. Everyone was listening. “Tink has been my best friend for, like, ever. She has been through SO much with me and I'm always getting her in trouble, but she's still always been so so so so so awesomely great to me. And I wanted to have this party for her because she deserves it! Because I love her. I really love you, Tink,” she said. “You're like a sister to me. You really are.”

I got choked up. I admit it. I think it was because she was shouting. It made it all seem real.

“We'll be friends forever and always, I pinkie swear promise. And I'll never tell anyone about how you used to have a crush on Wex!” She laughed.

And so did everyone else.

I gasped. Did she really say that out loud? “I DID NOT,” I said.

“Don't freak out!” said FB. “I'm kidding. Anyway, that was last year.”

“It was when we were eight!” I said.

“I knew you liked me,” yelled Wex from the dining room. “Ooooh, Tink likes me.” I couldn't see what he was doing, but I could guess from the laughter that it was something gross.

“I have to go,” I said.

“Don't be so serious, Tink,” said Freddie Blue. “I'm sorry. I mean it. I'm really sincerely totally sorry. I don't want you to feel bad. I want you to be happy! Which is why I got you . . . THIS!”

She pointed at a big box on the floor, which apparently I had to go open in front of everyone. I smiled, but my teeth were rubbing together like sandpaper.

I pulled back the paper, which was Barbie-themed and so pink I was nearly blinded. I was scared, but I opened the lid.

And inside the box, crouched down like a . . . well, like an idio, was Kai.

“What?” I said. I didn't get it.

“We planned it all during your photo-shoot thing!” Freddie Blue laughed. “I wanted to get you something you couldn't ever get on your own!”

I was so confused at first, I didn't know what was happening, but I did know that if seven bits of me died when Freddie started talking, at least a thousand more died in that moment. Kai was smiling at me or maybe laughing at me and everyone was laughing. I felt a rush of tears sweep down my cheeks like Niagara Falls. Then Kai's face changed. I turned and started to leave the room.

But then something else happened.

Freddie Blue was still on the counter. And she was laughing. It was the phoniest, most awful laugh in the world, and the hardest. And she was just wearing that stupid, ugly sparkly dress, but it was tiny and way too short. She had nothing covering her up. Not really. And then there was this sound.

Like a huge splat.

Like someone had thrown a water balloon.

Only it wasn't a water balloon. I knew right away what had happened.

She'd peed her pants. On the counter. In front of everyone.
Everyone
.

After that, there was this horrible, awkward silence. Really awful. The worst silence I'd ever heard. So instead of staying mad, I just reached my hand up and grabbed hers and pulled her down and said really loudly, “Thanks so much, Freddie! You're the best!” I didn't care how fake it sounded, I just needed to fill up that silence with something. Anything. Then I hit the button on the stereo and turned the music up loud.

I pulled her all the way up to her bedroom. She was shaking like crazy. “Oh my god,” she kept saying. “OMG OMG OMG.”

“It's not that bad,” I told her. “It's really not. No one will remember.”