on the
floor laughing and banging her fists like kids in cartoons. Tasha wished that Monica were as concerned about returning
her
hall pass.
Mama said in the voice she used to talk to Tasha’s friends, “Thank you very much for bringing the coat.” Then to Tasha, “Is
this nice young lady a friend of yours?”
Monica looked like the force of laughter held in would make her eyeballs shoot from their sockets. Tasha hated Monica. After
all, she was the cause of all of this. If it hadn’t been for Monica saying
separated
that day, none of this would be happening. And now, Monica standing by the door biting her lips was keeping Tasha from saying
Mama, this is my new friend, Octavia
.
Monica made a sound like the first noise of laughter breaking free from her glued-together lips.
“Is there a problem?” Mama asked Monica.
“No’m,” Monica said.
Mama said again, “Is this your friend?”
“Kind of,” Tasha mumbled.
Octavia hung the pink coat on the back of a chair. “I got to give the hall pass back,” she said.
“Get well soon, Tasha,” Monica sang.
Mama took the coat off the chair and helped Tasha into it.
“Good gracious,” she said. “What happened to this coat?”
“I fell,” Tasha said.
“This isn’t going to come out,” Mama said, as if she were talking to herself. “I told him not to spend all that money.” She
hit at the stain with her palm.
“It’s ruined?” Tasha asked.
Mama changed her tone. “Maybe not ruined. We might be able to get it where you can still wear it, but I doubt that we can
get all that clay out.”
She zipped Tasha into the coat and they stepped out into autumn.
Monica came to class on Wednesday wearing a brand-new pair of Gloria Vanderbilt jeans, a yellow blouse with a white collar,
and even matching yellow-and-white tennis shoes. Balanced delicately in the palm of her hand were nine pink envelopes, the
color of stomach medicine, fastened with magenta foil hearts: She was having a slumber party. For the past two weeks, Tasha
had eavesdropped as Monica and Forsythia had revised the guest list at lunchtime, scratching off names and adding others.
Tasha tried not to appear anxious as Monica shuffled the envelopes, moving this one or that one to the middle from the top
of the stack, as if she were alphabetizing them.
It was possible that one of the fancy envelopes had her name on it. After all, there were
ten
to be given out and Tasha had been very good friends with Monica up until last month. Hadn’t Monica and Forsythia both come
to her birthday party last year? It was rude to get an invitation and not send one back. Mama had said that was a
social obligation.
Monica stood up and put one pink invitation on the corner of Forsythia’s desk. Tasha put a check beside For-sythia’s name
on the list she had written, hoping to predict Monica’s choices. There were seven girls sure to be invited, but six more would
have to compete for the remaining three slots. Tasha put a little star by those names to mean
alternate
like they did when they listed the girls who would be on the cheerleading team.
Carmen Montgomery said sweetly, “Thank you, Monica,” as she peeled back the magenta heart on her envelope.
Darn. Carmen was one of the alternates. As Monica came near, Tasha put her spelling book over her version of the list and
tried to seem like she was too busy studying her words to be concerned over the possibility of receiving an invitation.
Mr. Harrell’s sudden entrance sent Monica scurrying back to her chair. Her new sneakers squeaked as she scooted. Had she been
heading Tasha’s way? It was possible. Even though Tasha had not been asked to sit at their table since that day she had gotten
into it with Jashante, things had gotten better. Hadn’t they? Tasha didn’t have to eat lunch with Octavia anymore. Now she
sat with Tayari, who was fun to sit with because she was really good at imitating people’s voices.
floor laughing and banging her fists like kids in cartoons. Tasha wished that Monica were as concerned about returning
her
hall pass.
Mama said in the voice she used to talk to Tasha’s friends, “Thank you very much for bringing the coat.” Then to Tasha, “Is
this nice young lady a friend of yours?”
Monica looked like the force of laughter held in would make her eyeballs shoot from their sockets. Tasha hated Monica. After
all, she was the cause of all of this. If it hadn’t been for Monica saying
separated
that day, none of this would be happening. And now, Monica standing by the door biting her lips was keeping Tasha from saying
Mama, this is my new friend, Octavia
.
Monica made a sound like the first noise of laughter breaking free from her glued-together lips.
“Is there a problem?” Mama asked Monica.
“No’m,” Monica said.
Mama said again, “Is this your friend?”
“Kind of,” Tasha mumbled.
Octavia hung the pink coat on the back of a chair. “I got to give the hall pass back,” she said.
“Get well soon, Tasha,” Monica sang.
Mama took the coat off the chair and helped Tasha into it.
“Good gracious,” she said. “What happened to this coat?”
“I fell,” Tasha said.
“This isn’t going to come out,” Mama said, as if she were talking to herself. “I told him not to spend all that money.” She
hit at the stain with her palm.
“It’s ruined?” Tasha asked.
Mama changed her tone. “Maybe not ruined. We might be able to get it where you can still wear it, but I doubt that we can
get all that clay out.”
She zipped Tasha into the coat and they stepped out into autumn.
Monica came to class on Wednesday wearing a brand-new pair of Gloria Vanderbilt jeans, a yellow blouse with a white collar,
and even matching yellow-and-white tennis shoes. Balanced delicately in the palm of her hand were nine pink envelopes, the
color of stomach medicine, fastened with magenta foil hearts: She was having a slumber party. For the past two weeks, Tasha
had eavesdropped as Monica and Forsythia had revised the guest list at lunchtime, scratching off names and adding others.
Tasha tried not to appear anxious as Monica shuffled the envelopes, moving this one or that one to the middle from the top
of the stack, as if she were alphabetizing them.
It was possible that one of the fancy envelopes had her name on it. After all, there were
ten
to be given out and Tasha had been very good friends with Monica up until last month. Hadn’t Monica and Forsythia both come
to her birthday party last year? It was rude to get an invitation and not send one back. Mama had said that was a
social obligation.
Monica stood up and put one pink invitation on the corner of Forsythia’s desk. Tasha put a check beside For-sythia’s name
on the list she had written, hoping to predict Monica’s choices. There were seven girls sure to be invited, but six more would
have to compete for the remaining three slots. Tasha put a little star by those names to mean
alternate
like they did when they listed the girls who would be on the cheerleading team.
Carmen Montgomery said sweetly, “Thank you, Monica,” as she peeled back the magenta heart on her envelope.
Darn. Carmen was one of the alternates. As Monica came near, Tasha put her spelling book over her version of the list and
tried to seem like she was too busy studying her words to be concerned over the possibility of receiving an invitation.
Mr. Harrell’s sudden entrance sent Monica scurrying back to her chair. Her new sneakers squeaked as she scooted. Had she been
heading Tasha’s way? It was possible. Even though Tasha had not been asked to sit at their table since that day she had gotten
into it with Jashante, things had gotten better. Hadn’t they? Tasha didn’t have to eat lunch with Octavia anymore. Now she
sat with Tayari, who was fun to sit with because she was really good at imitating people’s voices.
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