apologize on Saturday,” I said, setting the table in preparation for the Thanksgiving Breakfast Pancake Feast. “And that didn’t go well.”
“You’re worried about seeing her tonight,” my mom guessed. I doubted it was hard to figure out.
“Yeah.” I nodded. “She won’t talk to me at school anymore. Luckily I have Drew and Keelie and Hannah—even Jeremy and I are on good terms now—but I miss being friends with Chelsea.”
I’d actually talked with Keelie about the same thing Tuesday at lunch. She didn’t understand why I wanted to be friends with Chelsea in the first place. She said Chelsea was an awful friend, and that people at school thought she was snobby. I wondered if people thought I was snobby for hanging out with her, but I didn’t ask. It’s amazing how often people mistake shyness for snobbiness.
All it took to make Keelie understand was reminding her that she had been best friends with Shannon since elementary school. Shannon made Chelsea look tame. Sometimes the history you had with someone was more important than anything else. The sleepovers in middle school when we did each other’s makeup and watched made-for-TV movies all night, the time when Chelsea stood up for me when people made fun of me in French class last year, and all the time talking on the phone chatting about whatever was on our minds. You grew comfortable with that person. They knew everything about you, the good and the bad, and wanted to spend time with you anyway.
That sort of friendship isn’t something you can walk away from without caring at all.
“Are you sure you’re okay going over there?” my mom asked, placing a stack of pancakes in the center of the table and sitting down. “I could tell Tyler you weren’t feeling well.”
I wished that were possible. If I didn’t have to investigate Chelsea’s room, I probably would have agreed to it. And it wouldn’t have been a lie, since the idea of being around Chelsea was truly making me feel sick.
“No, it’s okay,” I told my mom, forcing a smile. “It might be a good thing to see Chelsea away from school.”
“Maybe she’ll get into the spirit of Thanksgiving and will want to forgive you and start fresh,” my mom said, putting two pancakes onto her plate.
I did the same, figuring I should try to eat. “That would be nice, but I don’t think so.”
“You never know,” she said. “It is the most magical time of the year.”
“That’s Christmas, Mom.” I rolled my eyes.
“And the spirit of Christmas starts on Thanksgiving!” she argued. “Speaking of which, I have to give the handyman a call this week so he can get our lights up.”
That was one big similarity between my mom and I—we were indoor girls. Neither of us climbed ladders in the freezing cold to wrestle with Christmas lights.
Hopefully I wouldn’t be stuck doing Christmas dinner with Chelsea and her dad, too. That would really be awful. I figured it was best not to say anything.
Who knew what could happen between now and then?
* * *
Once I started eating pancakes, they were so good that I’d had way more than I should have. I didn’t know how I would be hungry for dinner. My mom and I did our Thanksgiving tradition of watching the Macy’s Day Parade in the living room, followed by the dog show that was on afterward. The dogs were cute to watch, although I was more of a cat person. Not that I could get a cat while I lived at home, since my mom was allergic, but I planned on getting one after graduating college.
That was a long way off, though. And I shouldn’t be planning that far ahead, since my biggest concern right now was fixing whatever dark spell Chelsea did so I would make it through the next full moon.
My mom and I weren’t into sports, so we didn’t watch the football game, despite it being an American tradition. Instead, I took a long, hot shower, and spent a lot of time getting ready for dinner. I wanted to look my best. Yes, it was only
“You’re worried about seeing her tonight,” my mom guessed. I doubted it was hard to figure out.
“Yeah.” I nodded. “She won’t talk to me at school anymore. Luckily I have Drew and Keelie and Hannah—even Jeremy and I are on good terms now—but I miss being friends with Chelsea.”
I’d actually talked with Keelie about the same thing Tuesday at lunch. She didn’t understand why I wanted to be friends with Chelsea in the first place. She said Chelsea was an awful friend, and that people at school thought she was snobby. I wondered if people thought I was snobby for hanging out with her, but I didn’t ask. It’s amazing how often people mistake shyness for snobbiness.
All it took to make Keelie understand was reminding her that she had been best friends with Shannon since elementary school. Shannon made Chelsea look tame. Sometimes the history you had with someone was more important than anything else. The sleepovers in middle school when we did each other’s makeup and watched made-for-TV movies all night, the time when Chelsea stood up for me when people made fun of me in French class last year, and all the time talking on the phone chatting about whatever was on our minds. You grew comfortable with that person. They knew everything about you, the good and the bad, and wanted to spend time with you anyway.
That sort of friendship isn’t something you can walk away from without caring at all.
“Are you sure you’re okay going over there?” my mom asked, placing a stack of pancakes in the center of the table and sitting down. “I could tell Tyler you weren’t feeling well.”
I wished that were possible. If I didn’t have to investigate Chelsea’s room, I probably would have agreed to it. And it wouldn’t have been a lie, since the idea of being around Chelsea was truly making me feel sick.
“No, it’s okay,” I told my mom, forcing a smile. “It might be a good thing to see Chelsea away from school.”
“Maybe she’ll get into the spirit of Thanksgiving and will want to forgive you and start fresh,” my mom said, putting two pancakes onto her plate.
I did the same, figuring I should try to eat. “That would be nice, but I don’t think so.”
“You never know,” she said. “It is the most magical time of the year.”
“That’s Christmas, Mom.” I rolled my eyes.
“And the spirit of Christmas starts on Thanksgiving!” she argued. “Speaking of which, I have to give the handyman a call this week so he can get our lights up.”
That was one big similarity between my mom and I—we were indoor girls. Neither of us climbed ladders in the freezing cold to wrestle with Christmas lights.
Hopefully I wouldn’t be stuck doing Christmas dinner with Chelsea and her dad, too. That would really be awful. I figured it was best not to say anything.
Who knew what could happen between now and then?
* * *
Once I started eating pancakes, they were so good that I’d had way more than I should have. I didn’t know how I would be hungry for dinner. My mom and I did our Thanksgiving tradition of watching the Macy’s Day Parade in the living room, followed by the dog show that was on afterward. The dogs were cute to watch, although I was more of a cat person. Not that I could get a cat while I lived at home, since my mom was allergic, but I planned on getting one after graduating college.
That was a long way off, though. And I shouldn’t be planning that far ahead, since my biggest concern right now was fixing whatever dark spell Chelsea did so I would make it through the next full moon.
My mom and I weren’t into sports, so we didn’t watch the football game, despite it being an American tradition. Instead, I took a long, hot shower, and spent a lot of time getting ready for dinner. I wanted to look my best. Yes, it was only
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