He puts his sandwich down. “Well, you haven’t been a very good friend. You ditched me! And for the person who’s treated us like dirt, Sweet Pea.” He points to Kiera, who crossed her arms defiantly across her chest.
Kiera scoffs behind me.
“If you just got to know her, you’d like her.” But I know that Kiera has had plenty of time to make an impressionon Oscar. Maybe it’s not fair for me to expect him to just suddenly like her overnight. But doesn’t he trust me?
“I know her well enough to know she doesn’t think highly enough of either of us, but especially you, to treat us anything more than bugs squashed under her toe. And you’ve been weird lately, okay? Like, running off on all these secret things and not telling me what’s going on. That doesn’t make me feel very good, and I definitely don’t feel trusted.”
I open my mouth, but there are no words. Because he’s right. I have been sneaking around without any explanation, and my parents’ divorce has made me want to slink away into a cave with just me and Cheese. And sometimes Kiera, because she at least understands what’s going on a little bit.
“I even wrote to Miss Flora Mae, and you wanna know what she said? She said people are like boomerangs, and you’ve got to let them go so that they can decide if they want to come back to you. She confirmed what I was feeling all along. And guess what? I don’t even think I care if we’re friends anymore. If you’re gonna ignore me, I can do the same right back to you.”
The letter. It only ran in the newspaper this morning, but I’d somehow forgotten I’d ever even written it. I didn’t even check the paper today. All I could think aboutwas my project. “I didn’t know it wasmeyou were talking about!” I say. “I never would have responded that way if I knew you’d written the letter.”
I clap both my hands over my mouth, but it’s too late. Oh crud. My big secret. My big mouth. When I first read that letter, I could so easily understand how the sender felt. Kiera had made me feel that exact same way. I knew that Oscar and I were having a rough time, but it hadn’t even occurred to me that I could make him feel just as bad.
“Younever would’ve responded?” he asks, his brow furrowed into a knot. But then his eyes widen as it dawns on him. “You.You wrote that response from Miss Flora Mae?” He lets out a sharp gasp. “You’ve been writing her advice column this whole time, haven’t you? Is that why you’ve been sneaking around? I saw you go over to her house in the middle of the night the other week. But why would you do that?” He shakes his head and lowers his voice, but he’s still plenty loud for everyone to hear. “Is she dead? Did that old vampire finally die?”
I throw my arms up, exasperated. “No! She’s not dead. And I didn’t answer all of them. Just a few. That’s it. And she’s not a vampire! She’s... eclectic!” I nearly scream the word.
“Sweet Pea?” asks Kiera.
I forgot she was standing right there. I look around and see the faces of the entire lunch period, basically everyonefourth grade and up. They heard me. They all heard me. My throat tightens, and I can’t think of a single thing to say. I can’t even make myself deny it.
Kiera’s voice breaks the silence again. “Is that true? You’ve been answering Miss Flora Mae’s letters? What about...”
She doesn’t want to say it out loud. I can see that. Everyone would know she’d needed the advice in the first place. She’s wide-eyed and caught off guard in a way I’ve never seen before.
I can hear the whispers rumbling all around.Miss Flora Mae is Sweet Pea. Sweet Pea killed Miss Flora Mae. She’s been lying. She knows everyone’s secrets.Only a few people around us have caught on, but I wonder how long it will take for the whole class to find out.
“Sweet Pea?” I turn to find Mrs. Young. “Let’s take this to the office, okay?”
I nod numbly.
I look to Oscar, hoping to find sympathy there, but he won’t even look at me. And Kiera... she’s still shocked, but I can see the hurt building like a wall around her.
I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t even know where to start.
Chapter Thirty
A New Kind of Normal
In the office waiting area, the word I hear Mrs. Young use over and over when she’s on the phone with my mom isdisruptive. Apparently, I “caused a scene.” I was “acting out of character.” Mrs. Young wants to know if “something is going on at home.” I nearly shout:Which home?
Mrs. Young circles back around the front of the receptionist’s desk. “Your mother is on her way, Sweet Pea. When she gets here, we’ll have a chat with Vice Principal Mendes.”
“Am I in trouble?” I ask.
“That’s up to Vice Principal Mendes.” She gives me a sympathetic half smile. “I’ve got to get back to the rest ofthe class, but I’ll be back when your mother arrives,” she says, and leaves me there in the waiting area outside the offices. It feels more like a holding pen.
About thirty minutes in, and the tears start falling. My mom still isn’t here. I think I’m in trouble. Oscar hates me. Kiera probably does too. And I blew my big secret. It’s probably only a matter of time before Miss Flora Mae finds out too.
From behind her desk, Miss Horton, the school receptionist, slides a tiny bowl of hard candy toward me. “The red ones are strawberry,” she says.
I take one and slump back into my seat. The front office waiting area is just one giant windowed room looking out into the hallway, so I’m basically on display for everyone to see as they file back to class from the cafeteria. I turn my back to avoid having to make eye contact with everyone.
While Miss Horton is in the teachers’ lounge microwaving her lunch, Greg pops his head through the cutout in the glass where the attendance slips are dropped off.
“Hey,” he whispers.
