Something Wiki by Suzanne Sutherland Page B

she got mad about the glass.”
    â€œYeah, I know, but it’s not like I was the one who wrote on her locker. And breaking the glass was an accident.”
    â€œWhy don’t I call her mom and offer to buy a replacement? I’m sure we can find something nice at the mall.”
    â€œOkay,” I said, grateful that at least one of my problems had a simple solution.
    â€œYou know, my girlfriends and I were always getting into fights when I was your age. I’ve always been impressed at how well you and your friends get along.”
    â€œYeah. Up ’til now.”
    â€œYes,” she said, “maybe.”
    Then she got up and kissed the top of my head.
    â€œIf you want to talk any more about whatever’s going on, I’m around.”
    I nodded again.
    â€œAnd hey, maybe when we pick up a replacement glass for Chloe’s mom, we can take you to get a haircut, too. There’s a new place that just opened at Cloverfield, it looks pretty cool.”
    I knew that she was overcompensating for having kept the secret about Z and J for so long, and that she had no idea what cool was, but it still felt good. I wanted to resent her for it, but it was pretty nice having my mom back.
    â€œI’m always here for you, kiddo. Okay?”
    She was really laying it on thick.
    â€œWhat about once the baby’s here?” I asked.
    She looked me in the eyes and squinted hard, not in a mean way like Dad’s, just like she was concentrating.
    â€œI will always be here for you.”

Ten
Maturity (psychological)
    From Wikipedia , the free encyclopedia
    Maturity is a psychological term used to indicate how a person responds to the circumstances or environment in an appropriate manner, like dealing with the issues of people twice my age and trying to stay sane — which is harder than it looks! This response is generally learned rather than instinctive, and is not determined by one’s age, like how Chloe acts like she’s so sophisticated, but then throws a tantrum like a kindergartner when I break one little glass . Maturity also encompasses being aware of the correct time and place to behave and knowing when to act appropriately, according to the situation and the culture of the society one lives in which no one I know ever is .
    A t school the next day — Friday, thankfully — Chloe was acting super weird. She kept pulling Stacey aside to talk to her privately and was kind of ignoring Trisha and me. I asked if her mom had been upset about the glass I broke and she gave me a one-word answer: obviously.
    I wanted to tell her that my mom and I were going to buy a replacement, but I thought maybe she needed the weekend to calm down. Like, maybe I could surprise her with a new glass on Monday and we could just go back to normal.
    The two of them, Chloe and Stacey, went for a walk together at lunch and were gone for almost the whole hour. They were dressed almost exactly the same, too, which is pretty unusual. They were both wearing pink Hollister hoodies and skinny, light-blue jeans. It was a surprisingly warm day for February and neither of them wore a coat. From across the field, if you squinted, they looked like twins. I looked down at what I was wearing, black jeans and a baggy sweater and my giant winter coat, unzipped. I knew I didn’t look anything like the two of them.
    So while they were off walking, Trisha and I sat on the rusted-out jungle gym, knocking our salt-stained boots against each other and making up fake names for the band we decided we’re going to start.
    â€œHow about Slush Puppies?” I said, eyeing the greyish puddle that had collected in the corner of the playground.
    â€œThat’s terrible,” she said.
    So I hopped off and started kicking the pile of slush that had inspired me up at her. It splashed everywhere and got the legs of her cords wet.
    â€œUgh, see if I ever start a band with you now,” Trisha said.
    Then she jumped