The Pages Between Us (14 page)

I'm not really sure what to say . . . or how to say it. I guess I figured you'd want to do Chess Club because that was our agreement—find a club we both like and go together so we can find friends. Or I could learn to have conversations and you could play casting director. Whatever the reason, we started this together.

Together . . . like always. Me. And you.

I had no idea you were feeling so “stupid,” as you say. Because you're NOT. You're Piper, and everyone adores you as soon as they get to know you.

The only reason why you don't have a lot of friends is because you CHOOSE not to. Whether you realize it or not. Maybe it's because you're only comfortable hanging out with me . . . or maybe it's because you're incredibly loyal to me . . . or maybe you just don't like too many people being around you because you live in the middle of a litter of kids, I don't know. My guess is it's probably all of that.

But it's all different for me. At my house, now that Jason is gone, it's just me. You say that you feel just as ignored at home as I do, but I don't see how that's possible. You have to escape to the bathroom just to talk on the phone. Me? I have only my cat to worry about. Sometimes Blinkie takes time out from her kitty naps to glare at me, but other than that I don't have much “social interaction” at home.

And when I said you're VERY loyal to me . . . as much as I don't want to admit it . . . sometimes I think that's exactly why you spend all your time with me. Yes, it goes back to that Savannah Swanson Incident in third grade. Yes, you tell me all the time to block that out of my memory and never mention it again. Yes, you're usually right.

I said I'd try to be okay with you being friends with those girls from church who were in Savannah's group, but I can't get that day out of my head, Piper. It feels like it would take brain surgery.

That memory haunts me.

It wasn't so much that I showed up for Savannah's end-of-the-year school party and no one was there. It wasn't even that she and all her crew laughed at me the next day when they said it had been canceled and they forgot to tell me. And it wasn't even the fact that I overheard them in the bathroom
saying that they intentionally told me to go to a different place because they think I'm such a NERD.

It was the part where I had to explain it all to my dad. He kept hounding me about what happened, and he even called the teacher to find out why it was canceled. You have no idea how embarrassing it is to have your teacher call and explain why you were left out of a party. Or how humiliating it is when that teacher calls in the world's most popular girl, Savannah Swanson, and gives her detention. Or how awful it is that none of those girls from third grade will even look my way anymore, including your church friends Eve and Tessa.

I was scared to even talk to
anyone
after that whole ordeal.

That potted pink chrysanthemum you dropped off at my house after the whole Savannah thing went down was the sweetest. I loved it. And I'm glad you gave me a fake one because it won't ever die. I keep it on my nightstand to remind me of you . . . that Piper Jorgensen is always on my side.

And I know you say I shouldn't bring up the incident. But there are reasons why making friends is so hard for me. So once I walked into that Chess Club, and felt comfortable—for the first time in years—I started to think maybe I could finally shake off that whole humiliating incident.

So it's okay if you don't want to go to Chess with me. It's
probably time I step out on my own and start to make friends by myself. Fly away, baby bird!

Flapping my wings,

Olivia

Grateful for:

1. Two days off of school

2. Chess Club again on Saturday

3. Mom letting me cook my vegan corn casserole

4. Never having to see Savannah Swanson again

5. My fake pink chrysanthemum

6. OH, AND JACKSON AT YOUR PARTY

So, Savannah Swanson. I guess we talk about it.

That was awful. SO awful. I can't imagine how bad you must have felt. It was really rude of Savannah, who moved to South Dakota anyway and GOOD RIDDANCE, to laugh at you and be mean in front of others like that. But I'm starting to wonder now if those girls feel bad about it too. I mean, Eve is nice. So is Tessa. They all are. Maybe they weren't really a part of Savannah's meanness. Maybe they just happened to be there. Maybe they felt awful about it too. Maybe, Liv.

Okay. Can we shake it off? Just for now?

I
have
to tell you about Souper Saturday—I had so much fun. It was pretty much the best day of my life. I don't think I've ever laughed that hard. Bethany Livingston is so funny when she's not acting all smart! We were supposed to tie blankets all day, but we kept tying other things into the blanket. And they had these candy-cane brownies that were just amazing. Tessa and Eve were there too. And we had this whole joke about monkeys, because Tessa brought this jungle-print
fabric. A lady would come in to the church gym to work on a blanket and we would try to think of a way to talk about monkeys in the conversations:

“I bet this baby will be BANANAS for her blanket!”

“What flavor is this lollipop? APE?” (Instead of grape. Get it?)

By the end, we were just making gorilla noises and throwing bananas back and forth. Maybe you had to be there to get it. Hilarious.

We got SOOO many blankets done! The lady who organized all the activities was so excited, she wants to host a sewing night with the girls and have us make more stuff. Then I said I can knit and everyone thought that was the coolest thing ever. So we're going to start knitting things at Tessa's house on Thursdays. She wants us to set up a store in her neighborhood like Danny does and sell even more. Maybe we'll do an online shop someday. I mean, if they're any good at knitting. But I bet they will be. They're such awesome girls. I'm glad I gave them a chance despite You Know What.

And you really missed out on the soups. Even the organic kinds you like were yummy. I got the recipe for the enchilada one and I made it for my family last night using some leftover turkey from Thanksgiving. My brothers each ate two bowls and my mom was so relieved to not have to cook that she said
she thinks clubs really are a good idea. Educational, non-educational, just as long as we're talking
school
clubs I can go to any of them.

Her one rule was I had to write an apology note to Danny and invite him to my party, but that's a small price to pay for all the fun we're going to have. I don't know what I'm going to come up with to say to him. I hope Tessa will understand that I have no choice about inviting him.

My sister told me Danny probably likes me and that I've been doing my hair cuter lately (have I?), which was really nice for her. First to speak to me at all, and then to say something positive. Although double gross on Danny. Like he even would.

I'm glad you feel like you're able to make friends now. Me too. I always thought having a lot of sort-of friends would be more work, but it really isn't. You just laugh in the group, say a couple of funny things, and it's all good. Oh, I invited all the church girls to my birthday! I really need to go over this list one more time before I write out invitations. My mom's going to do them with me tomorrow. I get to pick them out from her stationery shop. Just me and her. Cool, right?

But sorry, back to you. That's great about the regional tournament. Good luck at your first match tonight. I would totally come and watch, but I don't have a ride and I want to
go to LEGO Club. They're building famous Washington monuments now. And I'd rather not run into Steve Polaski and his Eyes of Judgment.

I just hope Chess Club doesn't swallow up your whole life until you forget about all the other things that matter to you. But it probably won't. How much chess can a person really play anyway?

Later skater!

PIPER

Grateful: Monkeys!, broccoli cheese soup, eating with my whole family, picking out paper for my invitations, seeing you again today, and everything is good again ☺

You won't believe this. The Chess Club always meets after school but . . . guess what? Last night we held a special meeting and we all went to Dairy Queen! Twelve of us took over the back three booths, all with the manager's consent. (He also happens to be Ellie's dad so I think he was just happy to watch her play.)

We played two games with a partner, then rotated (but we got breaks so we could fill up on Oreo Blizzards). And then the two top players who won the most matches were given a gift certificate . . . to Chevy's!

So how did I do at my matches, you ask? I'm not gonna lie . . . I killed it! I went on the offensive more, didn't subordinate my pieces, protected the queen, and used my bishop for sneak attacks—all the things Dad taught me. And it worked! I played six games and won five, only losing to Steve Polaski, but part of me wonders if I didn't let him win. He IS the club captain, and when I took both his rooks, I could see sweat
forming on his forehead. And then he started to develop an eye twitch. Poor guy.

I won five matches and now I have a Chevy's gift certificate! That means I can ask Dad to take me and hopefully we'll talk about . . . I don't know . . . STUFF!

I have no idea yet if I made it into the top four to move on to the regional tournament, so I'm crossing my fingers and toes (but not my elbows anymore because it hurt after a few minutes). They let us know this afternoon, so cross your elbows for me since you're flexible.

Okay, so it wasn't just winning five matches that made my night. Afterward, we all hung out outside on the patio and ate corn dogs and French fries. Then Ellie and I and a bunch of other people (I won't bore you with everyone's names because you don't know them) made French fry castles, just like you and I used to do with your Tater Tots, except that Ellie has this amazing ability to lay down crinkle fries like she's making a log cabin and the base of our structure was indestructible. We were able to go up three floors! And then, you won't believe it, the guys started breaking up pieces of their corn dogs into little miniature people and we made up this whole scene where Lord Corn Dog was being taken over by the evil Darth Blood (which was actually a
blob of ketchup with dabs of mustard for eyes—sounds silly, but it really did look sinister).

It was like I glided among them gracefully like an Olympic skater. You should've been there. But you're busy with the soup stuff and it sounds like you changed your mind about those girls and had fun, so that's good. Right? That's a good thing?

I want to believe it's a good thing—I really do.

So today I was at lunch and Jordan grabbed some extra napkins for me when he noticed I didn't have any. I was sitting with Ellie and he laid them down next to me and said, “I had some extras—thought you might need some.” And he shot me this I'm-such-a-nice-guy smile.

Yeah, Jordan may be a nice guy, but I never meant for him to read that note and suddenly start acting like Mr. Wonderful. I meant for Jackson to be my Mr. Wonderful. Even though I asked him in math class if he wanted me to sharpen his pencil since I was headed that way and he just shrugged and didn't say anything. I don't get it—maybe he had a Math Headache? I get those sometimes when I'm solving a word problem.

But honestly, I sort of feel like I don't have time to deal with either one of these guys. Chess is taking up my free time, and when I'm not doing homework, I'm studying chess tutorials on YouTube.

So last night my dad walked in on me. “Whatcha watching?”

I quickly clicked my tab over to a
Gilmore Girls
episode since I didn't want him to know that I was studying chess. My plan is to wait until I'm chosen for the regional tournament, then leave the tournament invitation on the kitchen table under his travel coffee mug and surprise him.

“I'm watching season two, episode five.”

Dad nodded. “A wise choice.”

“Wanna watch with me?” I patted my bed and scooted over to make room. It would also be the perfect time to spring the Chevy's gift certificate on him.

“Can't tonight, gotta grade papers.”

“How about we play a game real quick?” I asked, gesturing toward the chessboard.

He looked at the carpet, not me. “Sorry. No time.”

He doesn't have enough time . . . for me.

Sigh.

But before he closed the door, he peeked his head back in and added, “Good night, Chicken.”

Chicken. That's the name he always called me when I was a little kid. I loved it because Jason never had a nickname. We were just Jason and Chicken.

I almost called out to him so I could tell him about the Chevy's gift certificate. Almost. I just knew it would hurt too much to hear him say he didn't have time to go.

If I make it to the regional tournament though, Dad and I will finally have something to do together. It's the type of thing he CAN'T wiggle out of. Right?

Gotta sign off now, it's getting late. And even though I'm pretty tired and groggy, if my calculations are correct, we haven't seen each other in five days except for the fifty-two minutes of French class yesterday. But that doesn't count since it was in a different language.

We still have the shelter on Mondays. You're still planning on doing that, aren't you?

I can't wait for your birthday party. It's gonna be awesome . . . just you wait and see! Are we having spinach and pesto pizza (so yummy)? Please don't tell me you're still planning on only ordering pepperoni. Step it up—do something exotic!

Olivia

Grateful for:

1. Winning five chess games

2. Witnessing Ellie create a French-fry castle that could withstand a tsunami

3. Blinkie sitting on my lap while I watch YouTube

4. Jumbo-size Oreo Blizzards

5. Dad at least sticking his head back in one more time to call me Chicken—in a good way