It’s like she brought out the best in me, but I brought out the worst in her

Ihave given up on things like dignity and self-respect and am spying on the Whites from the safety of the porch.

Not like with binoculars or anything, it actually looks very legit. I set Shim-Shim up with some chalk, and I’m industriously coloring a huge smiley face with him. The new grey skirt I sewed with Judy is covered in yellow chalk dust, but I don’t care.

I stand up and make a big show of clapping my hands together to clean them while peering surreptitiously over at the brownstone across the street. All quiet. Then their door bangs open and the three boys come piling out.

I wrinkle my nose. Not because they’re not adorable, just because, well, brothers. Nuff said.

They begin throwing around a frisbee, and I space out, watching the orange disc fly back and forth.

I’m so engrossed, I almost miss Pearlie stick her head out the door, sigh, and then join the game. She isn’t bad but she isn’t great.

All of a sudden, she turns and waves at me.

Mor-ti-fied. Ohmygosh. I got so busy spying, I forgot to hide!

I give her a cold smile, and then swing Shim-Shim up from the floor and head inside.

He barrels back out a second later, screaming, “Stop taking me inside! I want to finish!” So that’s just the cherry on top of my embarrassing cake.

I plop onto the couch and rotate my aching ankle.

Uch, who am I?

When did I start acting so… desperate? Is this what it feels like to be friend-less? Maybe I should just try to make it work with Atara, even though it was obvious that my very presence made her miserable. It’s like she brought out the best in me, but I brought out the worst in her.

What an amazing feeling.

I take a throw pillow and smush it over my face.

I’m tempted to scream, but yelling into a pillow is a bit cliché, even for me.

I remove the pillow from my very flushed face to find Chemia standing over me.

I give a little shriek. “You almost gave me a heart attack!”

He shakes his head in mock-wonderment. “I don’t know why people say you’re dramatic.”

I crack a smile. “What’s up?”

He sits down on the love seat. “I’m guessing you heard about Naftoli? Good coping mechanism with the pillow. I just shouted, ‘It’s not fair!” and stomped out of the room.”

I stare at him. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I have way more tragic things happening in my life then whatever’s going on between you and Naftoli.”