Too Much Drama Read online

  Copyright © 2016 by Laurie Friedman

  All rights reserved. International copyright secured. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of Lerner Publishing Group, Inc., except for the inclusion of brief quotations in an acknowledged review.

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  The images in this book are used with the permission of: iStockphoto.com/PandaWild (smiley and sad face).

  Main body text set in Janson Text LT Std 12/17.

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  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  The Cataloging-in-Publication Data for Too Much Drama is on file at the Library of Congress.

  ISBN 978-1-4677-8589-1 (trade hard cover : alk. paper)

  ISBN 978-1-4677-9570-8 (eBook)

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  1 – BP – 12/31/15

  eISBN: 978-1-46779-570-8 (pdf)

  eISBN: 978-1-51240-493-7 (ePub)

  eISBN: 978-1-51240-492-0 (mobi)

  For Gloria Rothstein—a great friend and reader!

  —L.B.F.

  Taking a new step, uttering a new word, is what people fear most.

  —Dostoevsky

  Sunday, November 30, 5:45 p.m.

  In my room

  Someone should invent a product, like a smoke alarm, that alerts you when a life disaster is coming your way. Say, when your best friend since kindergarten is about to show up, tell you the friendship is over, then make a dramatic exit to prove she means it. Because that’s exactly what Brynn just did, and it would have been nice to be prepared.

  Brynn came over after lunch, and she looked upset. I could tell she’d been crying. She’d told me she was going with her parents to Birmingham to see her grandmother, who has been sick. They’re really close, so I thought that was the problem. “Is Nana OK?” I asked when I opened the front door and saw the look on her face.

  “Can we go to your room?” Brynn asked.

  “Sure.” I figured if she had bad news, she didn’t want to share it with me on my front porch. When we got to my room, I closed the door. Brynn sat down on my bed. She was still crying. I handed her a tissue. “What’s wrong?” I asked softly.

  Brynn made a grunting sound and then got up and walked to the other side of my room. The way she did it gave me the feeling she didn’t want to be sitting on the bed with me, but I thought for sure I was imagining things. There’s been a lot of tension between us for a while, but right before her trip to Birmingham, Brynn had been supportive when I was nervous about the solo I performed in the dance show. It seemed as though we were back on better terms, and I didn’t see what could have changed. “Did something happen?” I raised a brow to show I was encouraging her to explain.

  Brynn shot me a piercing look. “You know what happened.” She pressed her lips together as if she was waiting for me to respond.

  I shook my head. I had no idea what Brynn was talking about.

  “Don’t play dumb,” said Brynn. “It’s insulting.”

  I didn’t like where this was going. “What are you talking about?” I asked.

  “Billy broke up with me,” said Brynn. “And it’s your fault.”

  “WHAT!” The word flew out of my mouth. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I didn’t know that they’d broken up, and the idea that I had anything to do with it was crazy. “What are you talking about?” I tried to keep my voice steady.

  Brynn’s voice was anything but. “Billy. Broke. Up. With. Me. And. It’s. Your. Fault.” Brynn enunciated her words like she wanted each one to sink in.

  My shock was turning into anger. Brynn’s accusations were ridiculous. “I didn’t even know you broke up. How could I have had anything to do with it?” I asked.

  “You’re supposed to be my best friend.” Brynn’s voice rose as she spoke. “And ever since Sophie moved to town, you haven’t acted like it. You’re always protecting her and taking her side. I get that she’s your sort-of cousin, but you treat her as if she’s some pathetic newcomer who can’t take care of herself. You know as well as I do that she’s liked Billy from the moment she moved to Faraway, and you haven’t done anything to stop it.”

  Who did Brynn think I was? God? “What could I possibly do to stop how one person feels about another person?”

  Brynn pointed her finger at me accusatorily. “See! You admit it. Sophie does like Billy. I knew it.”

  “Are you trying to trap me?” I asked. “I didn’t admit anything. Whatever happens between Sophie and Billy has nothing to do with me.”

  Brynn shook her head from side to side like she didn’t agree. “You don’t get what it means to be a friend, do you?”

  Even though Brynn was the one who showed up mad, now I was too. “You’re the one who doesn’t get how to be a friend,” I said. “When you and Billy started going out, you didn’t even tell me. I had to hear it from other people. How do you think that made me feel?” I paused so I could gather my thoughts. There was a long list of things Brynn had done over the past few months that fell into the Bad Best Friend category. I’d held a lot in, and now I wanted her to hear all of it.

  But I didn’t make it any further down my list.

  “I don’t really care what you have to say,” said Brynn. “I didn’t just come here to tell you that Billy broke up with me.”

  This was complete insanity. “There’s more?” I asked.

  Brynn took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. “I came to tell you that our friendship is over. It’s a shame, but you’re not the girl you used to be.”

  I’d heard enough. “Neither are you,” I said to Brynn.

  She smirked. “What are you saying? That you don’t want to be friends either?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying.” I wiped my forehead. My room felt too warm.

  “Great,” said Brynn. “We finally agree on something. Then she walked toward my door as though she was leaving, but she stopped short and turned to face me. “You make me sick, April. You really do.” Then she walked out of the house and slammed the front door behind her.

  I heard her loud and clear, and I’m sure everyone else in my house did too.

  6:01 p.m.

  May and June just came into my room. “Mom wanted me to tell you it’s time for dinner,” said May. She gave me a tentative look as if she wanted to say something about what happened, but wasn’t sure what. “I’m sorry Brynn yelled at you,” she said.

  “Thanks,” I mumbled.

  May opened her mouth like she was going to say more, then she shut it and left. It was clear my room wasn’t somewhere she wanted to be. I couldn’t blame her.

  June didn’t budge. “We heard Brynn screaming,” she said. “I Googled it, and it’s impossible for one person to make another person sick unless you poison them. You didn’t poison Brynn. Did you?”

  I laughed. “I didn’t poison her.” It was a ridiculous, albeit interesting, idea.

  “Are you and Brynn still friends?” asked June.

  I wasn’t sure how to respond to that. But June didn’t wait for an answer. “Tina Chen and Katie Cross were best friends in first and second grade, and now they’re not friends because Tina is friends with Carson Brooks, who Katie doesn’t like.” June looked at me like it was my turn to comment.

  Her grade-school analysis of friendship and its application to my situation was impressive. I smiled
at her. “I don’t really want to talk about this,” I said.

  June nodded like she understood. “Do you want to eat dinner?”

  “That’s exactly what I’d like to do,” I told my little sister. I had no idea that breaking up with your bestie could give you an appetite.

  Apparently, it can.

  7:17 p.m.

  Post-dinner

  I love roasted chicken but not when it’s served with a side dish of curiosity.

  At dinner, Mom couldn’t stop asking questions about what happened with Brynn. “Did you girls have a fight?” she asked as soon as we sat down.

  “Mom.” I stuffed my mouth full with chicken and rice and silently willed her to get that my lack of an answer meant it was a topic I didn’t want to discuss.

  But Mom’s mind-reading skills were particularly weak tonight. “Did something happen at school?” she asked.

  I chewed slowly, swallowed, and then took a sip of water. “Lots of things happen at school,” I said.

  Mom made a face. “I meant did something happen between you and Brynn? At school or elsewhere for that matter?”

  “April didn’t poison her,” said June.

  I had to laugh. Mom failed to see the humor. “April, what is going on with you and Brynn?” She put her fork down and looked at me like she was waiting for an answer. She reminded me of the girl in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory who told her dad she wanted an Oompa Loompa, and she wanted one NOW!

  “April doesn’t want to talk about it,” said June. For only eight, her voice was impressively authoritative.

  Mom looked from June to me, and then, without saying another word, she picked her fork back up and took another bite of her dinner.

  I winked at June to let her know she’d done a good job at managing the dinner conversation. June smiled back, looking pleased with herself.

  But she couldn’t have been half as pleased as I was to not be talking about Brynn.

  8:17 p.m.

  called Billy

  Even though I didn’t want to talk to my family about it, I had to call Billy to find out why he broke up with Brynn. I wasn’t prying. I just needed to make sense of the way Brynn had acted. When I told Billy what happened when she came over, he was quiet for a long time while he thought about what he wanted to say.

  “I broke up with Brynn because when I told her what you, Sophie, and I did last night, she freaked out. I told her it was no big deal, but she made it into one.”

  What Billy was describing sounded a lot like the way Brynn had acted earlier.

  He kept talking. “I tried several times to explain that all we were doing was trying to help May. I told her why you called me to go TP-ing with you, and that June came along too. I explained that Sophie ended up coming along because it was something she’d never done before.”

  “That didn’t work?” I asked.

  “Nope.” Billy kept talking. “Brynn accused me of waiting until she’d gone out of town to do something with Sophie. She even said you probably planned the whole thing when you found out she was leaving.”

  I guess that explained why Brynn thought this was my fault. “Did you tell her that when we finished at Krystal’s house all we did was take my sisters out for ice cream?”

  “Of course,” said Billy. “But she said Sophie likes me, and I’m clueless to it. She said she always flirts with me. She even accused you of not doing anything to stop it.”

  I felt my anger resurfacing.

  “She wouldn’t stop,” said Billy. “I told her to calm down, but that really set her off, so I hung up. I thought she would cool down and realize how irrational she was being, but she didn’t. She called me back and started yelling again.” Billy paused. “I don’t know. It was too much, and I snapped. I told Brynn we were over.” Billy let out a breath.

  Brynn knows as well as I do how much Billy hates confrontations. I’m sure the whole thing stressed him out. Still, I couldn’t help feeling a little sorry for Brynn. I know how much she likes Billy. This can’t be easy for her.

  As Billy kept talking, I tried not to picture Brynn. I could see her, face down on her pale pink comforter, crying into the silk pillow cases her Mom brought her back from Paris when she turned ten. When Billy and I hung up, my instinct was to call her and make sure she was doing OK.

  Old habits die hard, but after what happened today, it’s time to make some new ones.

  9:44 p.m.

  Called Leo

  When I hung up with Billy, I decided to call Leo, who’s older and wiser. I mean, he’s only sixteen, but it’s not just an age thing. I knew he’d have an interesting perspective.

  “Ending a friendship is like a form of death,” he said when I told him what happened. “It’s normal to experience a feeling of loss.”

  I hadn’t thought about it like that. “Do you think it’s possible to be mad and sad at the same time?” I asked.

  “Why not?” asked Leo.

  “Hmm.” I took in what he’d said. Then I paused, thinking about the fact that Leo is leaving in a month to go to college. “It’s going to be weird when you’re gone,” I said. “What am I going to do if something happens and I want to tell you about it?”

  Leo laughed. “The same thing you’re doing now. Pick up the phone and call me.”

  10:59 p.m.

  Reeling

  I’ve never used that word before. Reeling. It sounds like it belongs in a bad romance novel or a documentary about fishing. I just can’t believe my friendship with Brynn is over. Other than my family, she’s been the most important person to me since I was five. It’s hard to imagine my life without her in it.

  Leo was right. It is kind of like a death.

  I keep thinking about what Brynn said earlier—I’m not the girl I used to be. But Brynn isn’t who she used to be either. I’m not sure when the problems started. She wasn’t happy when Billy and I started going out, or when I made the dance team in eighth grade and she didn’t, or when I told her I was dating Matt Parker. Maybe it was jealousy. Maybe it was something else. But she hasn’t been much of a friend to me for a long time, and she’s been mean to Sophie from the day she got here last summer. I don’t know what to make of it or of the latest development. Should I be mad? Relieved? Resigned?

  I think I’m going to have to go with all of the above.

  Little girls are cute and small only to adults. To one another they are not cute. They are life sized.

  —Margaret Atwood

  Monday, December 1, 9:37 p.m.

  Poor May

  When May came into my room to “say goodnight,” I knew what she was really doing was giving me the daily wrap-up, which (fortunately) was that she didn’t have any problems at school with Krystal Connery. I know she was scared to go today because of what happened with Krystal on Saturday night. I can’t blame her for feeling anxious. But here’s the bottom line: Krystal deserved what she got.

  It started when May kicked the winning goal at the game on Saturday afternoon. Everyone in the stands went crazy screaming and cheering for her. I expected May to be flying high after the game. But she was quiet as we piled into the car and didn’t say a word all the way home. It took some coaxing when we got home, but she finally told me what happened.

  “After the game, we had a team meeting,” said May. “When it was over, Coach Newton left. Everyone was getting their stuff together, just kind of hanging around and some of the girls told me how awesome I played.”

  I was confused. “That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

  May shook her head from side to side. “That’s when Krystal said I look like a boy and should play on the boys’ team.”

  “It’s kind of a compliment that she thinks you’re good enough to play with the boys,” I said.

  “She said I look like one,” said May.

  She started to tear up, and my big-sisterly instincts kicked in. Even though May comes off as strong on the outside, she’s ultrasensitive, and Krystal has been mean to her since socce
r season started. Krystal was the star player until May waltzed in (or I guess I should say, kicked her way in), but that doesn’t give her the right to be a bully. “You can’t let her do that to you,” I told May.

  “What am I going to do?” she asked.

  I shook my head. “It’s what we are going to do.” I got Billy on the phone, told him the problem, and we both agreed it was time for our favorite prank. It had been a long time since we’d done it, and I knew he’d want to help. “We’re going to TP Krystal’s house, and you’re coming with us,” I told May.

  “No way!” said May. “What if Krystal sees me?”

  “Well you usually don’t want the person to see you, but in this case, you do.”

  “Why?” May asked.

  “You want her to know you did it, so she won’t bully you anymore.”

  “What if this makes it worse?” May asked.

  “It won’t.”

  May looked skeptical.

  “You have to show her she can’t mess with you. Trust me?” I asked.

  May finally nodded, so Billy and I made a plan to TP Krystal’s house that night. When I mentioned to Sophie what we were doing, she said she wanted to come too. “I’ve never heard of rolling a house in toilet paper,” she said. “No one did that in Paris or New York. Although maybe that’s because most people live in tall buildings that would be hard to cover.”

  “You don’t actually cover the house.” I tried to explain to Sophie the process of how you throw the toilet paper up and over trees and bushes. She said it didn’t make sense, but she was excited to see it.

  So Saturday night, Sophie and Billy came over, and we planned to take May to Krystal’s house as soon as it got dark. But as we were filling my backpack full of rolls of toilet paper, June came into my room. “Where are y’all going? What’s that toilet paper for?” she asked.

  May shot me a look like she didn’t want June to be part of this, but it gave me a great idea. “We’re going to have to say something to Mom and Dad about where we’re going,” I said to May. “If we take June, we can tell them we’re all going for ice cream.” I shrugged. “It’s what we’re planning to do anyway after we’re done at Krystal’s.”