Another laugh starts a low ripple through the classroom, but this time I know that laugh. I look up to see Oscar—my Oscar!—laughing as he leans over and whispers something to Alyssa that makes her laugh even harder.They’re clearly making fun of me. My eyes dart over to Kiera and she gives me a subtle thumbs-up.
“Ms. Franklin’s famous song, ‘Respect,’ became an anthem for the civil-rights movement. And—and...” I take a deep breath, but Oscar’s laugh echoes in my ears, and I can’t seem to find my place again.
“Take your time, Sweet Pea,” says Mrs. Young gently. “You’re doing fine.”
Her interference brings on another quiet buzz of conversation among my classmates.
I nod. “When Aretha sang at Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s memorial, her voice was a light in a very dark time. And that is still true to this day.” I glance over to Mrs. Young with her bright-orange lipstick and watermelon-print dress. She spares me a wink. “Even for me,” I add, more quietly.
I train my eyes on the rest of my presentation and force myself not to stray even if it means losing points for eye contact. I can’t believe I volunteered to go first. What was I thinking? Probably the same thing I was thinking when I thought it’d be a good idea to answer Miss Flora Mae’s letters.
I finish my presentation and the whole class claps, but only because Mrs. Young has made it clear that clapping for everyone is part of our participation grade.
“You did good,” Kiera whispers as I sit down. I know that’s not entirely true and that she’s just being nice, but hearing her say so makes me feel a tiny bit better anyway.
Kiera stands up with her beautiful and extremely professional trifold poster board about Mae Jemison, the first African American woman in space. Apparently, her mother wasn’t as excited about her K-pop star idea as Kiera was. Regardless, Kiera is a pro. Heck, she doesn’t even need to use her note cards. She’s as good at speaking in front of all of us as Mrs. Young is.
I think about how nervous I was up there and how I stumbled over my words and how much it made me feel better to see Kiera out there giving me the thumbs-up, so I try to keep eye contact while she is talking. I just can’t believe Oscar talked through my whole presentation and didn’t even laugh at my jokes. He knows there’s nothing worse than making a joke that doesn’t land. Talk about awkward. Even worse was that he laughed at the parts that weren’t even supposed to be funny! My chin begins to quiver as the tears threaten to spill. I bite down hard on my lip to keep it together.
Kiera finishes and gives a quick curtsy, and the whole class clapsandcheers! They cheer! If we weren’t friends again, I might just hate her.
Before lunch, Mrs. Young holds up a clipboard. “I’ve got field day sign-ups all ready to go. Partner up with a friendand write it down up here. Since we’re an odd number this year, I’ll be partnering up with whoever doesn’t find someone else in time. And to be totally honest, whoever ends up with me is in luck, because I’m one half of the winning team at the Young Family Reunion—three years running!”
I turn around to tell Kiera I should partner up with Oscar, but she beats me to it.
“You should sign up with Oscar,” she says. “Maybe it will give y’all a chance to get over whatever his problem is.”
“Are you sure?” I ask.
Greg saunters up the row behind us. “Y’all partnering up?” he asks. “Coop says our height ratio is no good for the three-legged race.”
“I think this is probably the first time he’s let you out of his sight since you moved here,” says Kiera with a snicker.
Greg laughs nervously. “Coop is, uh, a good friend.”
“Actually,” I say, “I think I’m with Oscar, but you and Kiera should sign up together.”
Greg shrugs and nods.
Kiera does the same. “Sold.”
Besides if I had to partner up with Greg, I don’t think I could trust myself to even walk in a straight line properly.
After waiting my turn with the clipboard, I see that Oscar is already signed up, so I go to fill in the blank next to his name with mine.
But he’s already signed up. With Alyssa.
WHAT. THE. HECK?
Now I’m just mad. I speed walk all the way to the cafeteria where Oscar sits—not even at our usual table—with Alyssa and her posse of Samantha and Tyler.
I throw my hands up. “What’s your problem with me?” I ask.
The entire fifth- and sixth-grade classes pause as they file into the cafeteria, and I can sense Kiera approaching from the side, but her expression says it all: she’s too late.
Oscar takes a bite out of his sandwich. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You won’t take my phone calls and you’re doing all kinds of stuff without even talking to me about it first and then you’re ignoring me and now you’ve signed up for field day without me!” I can feel my voice getting louder and louder and closer to tears. “We’ve done every field day together for the last three years.”
