If You Only Knew (9780698139541) Read online

  I was shoving the last hunk of French toast into my mouth when Dad came storming down the stairs followed by Elvis and then Mom, who was holding an unplugged curling iron in her hair.

  “Delicious!” Devin yelled, grabbing up her own plate and Colette’s. “We made her eat it,” she whispered to Mom.

  “You ate?” Mom asked Colette. She released the curling iron and fluffed her hair a little.

  Colette opened her mouth but Bay was faster. “Delicious, right, Colette?”

  Mom and Dad looked at Colette. Anne Marie and Devin peered in from the kitchen. Bay and I held our breath. “I guess,” Colette said. I finished chewing her last bite.

  “Was it so bad?” Dad asked. He turned to Mom. “It took me five hours last night to make that barley bread. I made the Welsh barley bread, and . . .”

  “Leave her alone, Arnie,” Mom said. “She said she ate. Enough. Who even cares? What time is it? I have to be at work . . .”

  “Seven forty-four. Gotta go,” yelled Bay.

  Mom headed toward the kitchen and threw her curling iron on the counter, mumbling, “Constant referee.”

  We all grabbed our lunches and kissed Dad. Well, Colette didn’t. “Love you,” Dad said to each of us, and then, “Come on, Elvis.” He doesn’t need to urge Elvis to come with him. Elvis is practically Dad’s third foot.

  “Don’t forget your lunch!” Mom yelled after us. All five of us held up our brown bags as we scuffed down the back walk. She says don’t forget your lunch instead of I love you.

  On the way to the bus stop I felt like an elephant, so I lumbered behind with Colette. “I would’ve sat there all day,” she said.

  I could just see her sitting at the dining room table with her arms crossed when we got home. I shook my head. “I’ve never eaten so much French toast so fast in my life.”

  “I would’ve,” Colette insisted.

  “I believe you.” I did, and I was too full to argue, anyway.

  “I don’t care if it’s Welsh or not. I hate him.”

  I looked at her, stomping beside me. She’s not much taller than I am and weighs ten pounds less. Since she showers at night, Colette was the only one of us with dry hair, and hers is the curliest. Like Dad’s. She and Dad are a lot alike. I would never hate my father, as annoying as he can be. He’s just Dad. I can’t really see myself hating anybody. Not even Colette.

  Her blue eyes, all outlined in black, looked so haunted and angry I almost asked her why she would do that to herself, but instead I said, “I like your eyeliner.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah,” I lied.

  She pushed her hair away from her face and asked, “Why don’t you wear any makeup?”

  I shrugged. “I think I’d feel too noticeable.”

  “Because you could be really pretty if you tried.” She tucked my hair behind my ear.

  “You think so?” I tucked back the other side.

  She squinted at me. “Long blonde hair, the bluest eyes, high cheekbones—face it, Zoe. You’re a dish.”

  “Please,” I said, thinking, Really?

  “You are,” she said. “You know, you’re my second favorite sister.”

  “I am?” That really surprised me. I thought she probably hated me, too.

  She nodded.

  I don’t think she’s my second favorite sister. She scares me. Besides, I wasn’t sure whether or not to feel jealous that I only came in second. “Who’s first?” I asked.

  “He can’t make me eat,” she answered.

  “Hey,” I said. “What did you do yesterday? Devin wouldn’t tell me. Is Devin your favorite?”

  We were almost at the bus stop. She stopped and whispered, “It’s a secret.”

  “I won’t tell,” I swore.

  She stared me in the eyes for a few seconds. I thought, Please, please. Then she lifted her T-shirt to show her belly button. It had a very small gold hoop through it.

  “Whoa,” I said. “Did that hurt?”

  “It kills. But I think it looks fierce, don’t you?”

  She didn’t wait for me to answer because her boy-friend, Matt O’Donnell, yelled her name. He has the beginnings of a mustache and a ponytail. She skipped over to him and they started kissing hello.

  Everybody watched. The high school bus pulled up before they finished. They ended the kiss and smiled at each other. A twelfth-grade boy clapped; Matt bowed. He’s sort of cute, I guess, in a grimy way. Even Colette has someone. Everybody but me trudged up the steps.

  “You coming?” the driver asked me.

  I realized I was just standing there spacing out. “No,” I said. “I . . . I’m . . .” I was thinking it might be interesting to be Colette for a day and do only what I feel like doing, not worry about anybody else or how they’re feeling. Be all jagged edges, make a point of things, run some panty hose, or whatever Anne Marie was saying. Let everybody else be careful of me, for a change. Pierce my belly button. Make out at the bus stop. Yeah, sure.

  “She’s just in seventh grade,” Devin called from inside the bus.

  “I’m big for my age,” I explained.

  “Oh,” said the driver.

  “Thanks,” I said as she closed the door. I really do say thanks too much.

  The bus pulled away. Bay and her best friend, Lauren, were waving at me out the back window. I waved back, wishing CJ were at my bus stop, or that Tommy and Jonas would show up already. I had nothing to do but wait, alone. I hate being left out.

  four

  “Don’t the sixth graders look tiny?” CJ’s best friend, Morgan, asked. “Can you believe we were that little last year?”

  “I wasn’t,” I said.

  “I still am,” said Olivia Pogostin. She’s four foot nine and sixty-seven pounds, which I find a bit hard to take at times, but she’s really sincere and she has a pool table, so she’s always been popular. She unlocked her locker with a key from her keychain. She’s one quarter Filipino, one quarter black, and half white. The rest of us have combination locks and are just plain white.

  “Wait for you by the wall,” Tommy yelled, passing us.

  “Great!” I yelled back.

  Morgan blew her bangs away from her eyes and asked, “They’re coming with us?”

  “If that’s OK,” I said.

  Nobody said anything for a minute. CJ and Morgan looked at each other.

  “I could tell them forget it,” I offered. “But what’s the difference?”

  “No,” said Morgan. “That’s fine with me.”

  “Me, too,” agreed CJ.

  “And maybe after,” I suggested, “how about if we hang out at the pizza place?”

  CJ smiled at me.

  Morgan asked, “You like their pizza? It’s so soggy.”

  “I don’t care,” I said.

  “Sounds great to me,” CJ whispered.

  Olivia slammed her locker closed and said, “Have fun getting school supplies.”

  “Have fun at the orthodontist,” I answered.

  “That’s likely. Hey, you three want to come over, after?” she asked. “I should be done by four-fifteen.”

  “Sounds good to me,” I said. I love shooting pool. Morgan and CJ agreed, too. I noticed Tommy and Jonas weren’t invited but I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want them to think I got boy-crazy over the summer or anything. Olivia thinks boy-crazy girls are pathetic.

  “Wish me luck!” Olivia said, and ran toward the main door.

  “Luck!” I yelled.

  When Olivia was around the corner, CJ said, “My mom was saying Olivia thinks she might not have to get braces.”

  Morgan and I shook our heads. Everybody knew Olivia would be getting them. Her teeth are very crowded.

  We headed out to meet the Levit boys by the wall. It was a relief to get outside
on such a great day. It was so sunny and hot, Morgan and CJ had sat together under the chestnut tree at lunch instead of playing kickball. Olivia played, though, and Roxanne. I wasn’t the only girl.

  “Ready?” Morgan asked the boys. They jumped off the wall and we all started walking. She and CJ seemed perfectly happy to have Tommy and Jonas coming. I was glad. It’s not like we’re in fourth grade, afraid of cooties or something. No reason we can’t all be friends.

  Jonas asked Morgan, “Do you believe we have to sing ‘Everything’s Coming Up Roses’ again this year?”

  She laughed and blew her bangs away from her eyes. They’re in chorus together, and they always make fun of the songs Mrs. Bauman chooses. They started walking really fast, inventing nasty new lyrics for the corny chorus songs. CJ and Tommy are in band with me, so we three walked together.

  “Are we allowed to get erasable pens?” Tommy asked.

  “I hate those,” CJ said. “They leave smudges all over your hands.”

  “Yeah,” said Tommy. “But you can change your mind.” He kicked a rock. “Do you ever wear your hair down?”

  CJ blushed and didn’t answer. I jumped in for her, to help. “She looks awesome with it down.”

  “Because you always have it in a bun. It looks so tight.” He was blushing, too. I’ve known him forever and this was the first time he blushed. He never blushed about my hair. Forget what Colette thinks—I obviously have boring hair.

  “It’s for ballet,” CJ said.

  “But you’re not doing ballet, right now,” Tommy pointed out.

  “It’s big, down,” CJ mumbled, touching it. We walked along a while without talking. I tried kicking a rock to Tommy. It was really heavy so I tripped. “Whoa,” I said. They didn’t say anything.

  By the time we got into Sundries, Morgan and Jonas were already filling baskets. I took out my list and started collecting. When I was done, I went up to wait in line at the cash register. CJ was right behind me. She’s pretty quick, too.

  While we waited, we stared into the glass jewelry case beside us. “Which do you like?” CJ asked me in her quiet voice.

  I pointed at a silver ring with a knot in it.

  “Me, too,” she whispered. We moved up a little. “Looks like a friendship ring, doesn’t it?”

  “Yeah,” I whispered back. “Definitely. A friendship ring.”

  “Twenty-nine dollars,” she said.

  “They have installment.” I casually pointed at the sign explaining the GREAT OPPORTUNITY NOW AVAILABLE: BUY IT ON THE INSTALLMENT PAYMENT PLAN! TAKE IT HOME TODAY! PAY IT OFF LATER!

  “I get my allowance on Saturday,” she said.

  “Me, too.” I’d dump my school supplies and buy rings with Mom’s money instead, if CJ wanted. I could borrow paper.

  “Looks like we’d need ten dollars each, for a down payment.” She pointed at the small type on the sign. I nodded. So did she.

  Morgan came up and stood between us. “Ooo, friendship rings,” she whispered. “Which one do you like, CJ?”

  CJ pointed at ours, the one with a knot.

  “I knew it.” Morgan smiled. “Good. Me, too.”

  “Great,” said CJ.

  I moved the bag of pens in my basket off the loose-leaf because I didn’t know what to do with myself.

  “OK,” CJ said, tapping me. “Your turn.”

  “Oh!” I quickly dumped all my stuff onto the counter. The bag of pens slid over onto Mrs. Dodge’s feet, behind the counter. “Sorry!” I stuffed my list into my pocket and tried to pull out the money Mom had given me, but my jeans were so tight I had a little trouble.

  “Who’s holding up the line?” Tommy yelled.

  “Shut up, you,” I yelled back.

  I finally pulled myself together and paid, then waited outside, leaning against the ledge, for everybody else. Jonas was last. Tommy teased him the whole way to the pizza place about what a big deal he makes of every little decision.

  “I don’t want to end up with the wrong protractor,” Jonas said, shrugging. He’s a very serious person.

  “Yeah,” Tommy answered. “That could really wreck your year.”

  We pushed into the pizza place and headed for a booth toward the back. The boys got in first, then CJ sat down next to Tommy and Morgan sat down next to Jonas. There was no place left for me. I stood alone at the end of the table.

  They all kept chatting. Nobody noticed there was only room in the booth for four. I smiled fakely and said, “Hi, my name is Zoe and I’ll be your waitress?”

  “You want to squish in here?” CJ asked. She scooched over a little. There might have been room for one cheek on that bench but no way my two.

  “Nah. I’ll get a chair,” I said. I turned around and looked for one. I had to go all the way back to the front window and drag it screeching across the whole restaurant.

  The waitress was standing where I had just been so I couldn’t sit down yet. She turned to me and asked, “And you?”

  I didn’t know what anybody else had ordered. “A slice, please. Plain. And a ginger ale.”

  She left and I sat down. There was a pole where my legs wanted to be so I had to straddle it like I was riding a horse. “Everybody get good stuff?” I asked.

  CJ nodded, then looked back at Tommy who was in the middle of telling us how he taught their little cousin Zachary all the different dinosaurs on Saturday.

  I stood up and the chair scraped on the floor. The four of them looked up at me. “I’m just going to the bathroom,” I said. My voice sounded so booming.

  “I’ll alert the media,” said Tommy. I guess I wrecked his story.

  “Ha.” I meandered past the counter to the ladies’ room. On my way into the stall, I closed the door too fast. My head was still out. I smashed it between the door and the stall wall. “Ow!” I said. Luckily nobody saw me. What a clod. Who smashes her own head in a door?

  When I came out of the stall, after, Mrs. Dodge from Sundries was washing her hands next to me. She looked weird without the counter in front of her, separating us. She looked, I guess, vulnerable. Like I could knock her over too easily. Not that I would. Why would I knock down anybody, especially an old lady? I stared at myself to see if I looked on the outside like the wacko I felt like on the inside. Long blonde hair parted in the middle, pointy cheekbones and chin, blue eyes. Not a dish, not a wacko, just me—still totally recognizable, despite the bump above my right eye from the stall door.

  “Do we please ourselves?” Mrs. Dodge asked me.

  “Huh?” I think I said. I turned off the water and reached for a paper towel. Her eyes were gripped on mine in the mirror; I couldn’t look away.

  “What we see,” she said. Then she left. I looked at myself in the mirror again. Please myself? I don’t know. I sucked in my cheeks, which made me look more like Devin. I stuck out my tongue. Go light, Zoe, what’s the matter with you lately? Must be the bump on my head.

  When I got back to the table, there was a pitcher of 7UP and four plastic cups, and one can of ginger ale. “I didn’t know we were getting a pitcher,” I said. I opened my ginger ale and stuck in my straw. “Hey, the weirdest thing just happened.”

  But then the pizza came, and everybody was scrambling for the napkins and red pepper and garlic, so they weren’t interested in my bathroom adventures. I straddled the table pole and gobbled down my soggy slice.

  five

  When we got to her house, Olivia emptied a bag of potato chips into a big wooden bowl and we brought it downstairs.

  “How did it go?” I asked Olivia.

  “Don’t ask,” she said. “How about you?”

  “Great,” I said. But I noticed CJ and Morgan looked at each other and shrugged. I decided to shut up.

  “You want to borrow some shorts?” Olivia asked me.

  “Yeah, and put them on my what?�
�

  “I have some big ones, or you could wear Dex’s.”

  “Thanks anyway,” I said. Dex is her gorgeous thirteen-year-old brother. His shorts probably would fit me. “I never get hot.”

  “Really?” asked Morgan. “I use deodorant, I sweat so much.”

  “Me, too,” said CJ.

  “You do?” I asked, with a mouth full of chips. “You look too innocent to need deodorant.”

  “I sweat buckets, dancing,” CJ said. “You don’t use it?”

  “Yeah, I do,” I said. “But . . .”

  “Why should she?” Morgan interrupted. “If she never gets hot.”

  “Are we playing pool or talking about my armpits?” I asked. I hate being the topic.

  We stood up and racked the balls and chose teams: me and CJ against Morgan and Olivia. Olivia was just trying to be nice, I know, offering me her brother’s shorts, but sometimes she makes me feel like I bump into things.

  Morgan scratched on the break. She was funny about it—she clonked her head on the table and asked to be taken out back and put out of her misery, she’s so pathetic. I’ve always thought she was funny.

  I shot next and sank the 2, so CJ and I got to be solids. I got the 4 in, too, then missed the 5. CJ said, “All right, partner.”

  That made me happy but I tried not to show it. “Please,” I said.

  Olivia made a really tough bank shot, but it’s her table so she should be good. I decided not to worry. I’m pretty good, too.

  “I stink,” CJ said to me. “Don’t be mad.”

  “I’m sure you’re good,” I assured her. I hoped I was right because Olivia sank the 14 in the corner pocket.

  “That’s OK,” Morgan told CJ. “That evens out the teams, ’cause I stink worse.” She blew her long bangs out of her eyes. Last year, her bangs were half an inch above her eyebrows. They look a lot better long, although she has to keep blowing at them.

  “No way,” said CJ. “You haven’t seen me yet.”

  Olivia finally missed so it was CJ’s turn. She barely tried. The cue ball popped off the table, sputtered, and didn’t hit anything. CJ laughed. So did Morgan.