Age Twelve
Dani’s been acting weird recently, and I don’t understand it. Or rather, I understand it, but I don’t want to. This morning, when I get to school, she’s not waiting at the usual place for me like she always does. Instead, I find her already at homeroom, chatting so animatedly to Haven that neither of them notices me until I say “Hi.” Then Dani says “Oh hey!” It’s so awkward.
At lunchtime, the three of us walk together to the cafeteria, but maybe it’s not right to call it “walking together” because they walk side by side while I find myself pushed to the back, trying to find a break in their conversation where I can insert myself. At one point, Dani says, “Oh my god, and pizza cake!” And they both burst out laughing.
“What’s so funny?” I say, trying to hide my nervousness.
“Oh, Fern, you just have to have been there,” Haven says.
I’m even more confused now. “Where?”
Dani and Haven share a look. It’s a slightly guilty kind of look. “Oh, you know, just—” Dani says, waving her hands in that way that she does when she’s nervous. “We were at my house last Saturday, and—”
“You guys hung out at your house? Without me?” Even I hear the slight whine in my voice. Ugh, I sound so babyish.
“It wasn’t a big deal, it was only because Haven said she wanted to bake cookies, and I said—”
“I like baking!” I say, and it comes out so loud and so upset that they both stop moving and stare at me.
“Fern, it’s not a big deal,” Haven says, rolling her eyes. She shares another look with Dani, and this time, it’s not a guilty one but an ugh-she’s-tiresome one.
I look frantically between Dani and Haven, heat rising from my neck to my cheeks. I want to cry, but I know that if I did that, then everything would be over. Instead, I say, “Cool.” And I run to the bathroom and lock myself inside before crying. I wash my face with cold water afterward, but my eyes are so puffy it’s obvious that I’ve been crying. When I see Haven and Dani in class, they both look at me hesitantly, like they want to say something, but I duck my head and slide into my seat, and we don’t talk for the rest of the day.
When I come home, Mom gives me banana slices with peanut butter on them, just the way I like it, but the peanut butter sticks to the back of my mouth and I feel like retching. Mom asks me if I’m okay, and I tell her what’s happened. She says, “Oh, Fern. Friendships change all the time. You’ll find new friends.” As if it’s so easy and I can just snap my fingers and conjure up a new Dani.
You don’t understand, I want to say to her. I don’t want a new friend. I only want Dani. Haven’s got an entire school of kids she could be friends with; why did she have to choose my friend? If only Haven weren’t here.
And I realize, then, that that’s the answer. If I could make Haven go away, then Dani would be my best friend again. Haven moved here not too long ago, so maybe I can make her move away again. But how? Maybe I can send her a mean note telling her to move away? I sigh. We write mean notes to one another all the time, and no one’s moved away because of it. It needs to be something bigger.
I have so much frantic, nervous energy inside me that I can’t just sit here. I get up and decide to do a bit of baking. Before that, I go to the bathroom, and as I wash my hands after peeing, I look up and see the medicine cabinet. I don’t know what it is, but something makesme open it, and there it is. Dad’s laxatives. I take them out, and as I stare at them, something starts happening in my mind. I don’t know how to explain it, but it feels like a new part of my brain has just been unlocked. Like there was always a part of me that I didn’t even know existed, and now it’s awakened, and it won’t go back to sleep until I listen to it. A little bit will do, it says to me. A tiny bit, that’s okay, right?
The cookies come out smelling beautiful. I eat one myself and give another to Mom, who calls me her sweet little baker. The rest I pack up into plastic containers, marking one of them with a little red dot. The one that contains the special one I’ve made for Haven.
The next day, when I bring them to school, everyone crowds around me, grabbing at them. I’m so worried that they might snatch up Haven’s cookie before she gets here, so I set it aside, and when Haven finally gets to school, I hand it to her and say, “Here, I saved it for you.”
“What? You did? Oh my god Fern, that’s so sweet!” She reaches over and gives me a hug. “And I just wanna say, I’m sorry about yesterday. I feel bad about it. We won’t hang out without you again.”
I manage a smile. Why is she being nice now? My insides writhe with guilt, and I almost reach out and grab the cookie from her. Oh god, I feel awful. Why did I put laxatives in her cookie? Who does that? Only a monster would do such a thing. I wish I could take it back, but how can I now? If I took the cookie back, it’s going to look so weird.
In the end, I say nothing. I’m too much of a coward to do anything.
Haven is out of school for a day. One beautiful, glorious day where Dani is my best friend again, and it’s exactly like old times. But when Haven comes back to school, Dani immediately rushes to her side and says, “Oh my god, I’ve missed you so much!”
Then Haven’s gaze lifts, and she meets my eye, and I see it on her face. She knows. She knows it was the cookie I gave her. Fear claws at my throat, and I have to fight to keep my face neutral. I force a smile and say, “I’m glad you’re okay.” She doesn’t say anything to me.
Later, when school ends for the day, I walk my usual route home. I round a corner and find Haven there, just standing, looking at the ground. She looks up and says, “Hi, Fern.”
“Hi.” I have no idea what to say. I have no idea what she’s doing here. This isn’t in the direction of her place.
“I know what you did,” she says.
My mouth goes dry. “Huh?”
“The cookie you saved for me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Haven steps closer to me, and I’m suddenly scared of her.
