Eleven-Eleven (ON HOLD)

Dear Joyce,

    “You did WHAT?” I was shocked. Mckayla was a drama queen, yes, She took things into her own hands, yes. But she’d never gone this far before. She gave friendly suggesting a whole new meaning. And I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

    “Read my lips. I did you a favor.”

   “How do you know? You could’ve just ruined the friendship!”

    “I think not. Because he said he’s think about it.”

    He was going to think about it? Surely she was crazy. There wasn’t a chance. End of story. No way.

    “Hello…? Are you okay in there?”

   I hadn’t realized I had completely zoned out.

  “Yeah. I’m fine. You on the other hand—I think you’ve lost it.”

   “I think you should wait and see before you send me off to the crazy house. You never know….”

   “If you say so… just get your lunch.”

  We’d made it to the front of the line. Little did I know, the lunch wait tomorrow would be nothing like today’s……

  *Wednesday*

“Testing is now clear. Thank you, students and teachers, for another great day of testing. Please wait to be called to lunch.” Bradley came over the intercom. We had all been talking quietly since Mrs. Ryerson took up test booklets, but the room was filled with sighs of relief and louder talking then.

   Clearly, the noise of everyone else bothered Mckayla, because she motioned for me to follow her to the far side of the room where no one else stood.

   “So, do you want to hear the verdict?” she smiled like she was hiding something.

   “Depends, what courtroom, and was the jury nice? Or no?” I couldn’t resist the temptation of teasing her. She would’ve done the same thing to me.

   “Okay, Miss Know it all. I guess you don’t want to know that bad.” She gave me a bored look and acted like she was going to walk away. I couldn’t let that happen…. I grabbed her arm and spun her back around.

   She smiled, knowing she had won.

   “Tell me.” I braced myself for the worst. I already knew the answer; it would be the same old “don’t want to ruin the friendship” stuff. I don’t know why I even bothered pulling her back. It would just make the rejection harder.

   “Well…. You see, we had this long, drawn out conversation last night, and he was talking to me and-“

  “I said tell me, not write me a best seller about it.”

  “He said yes.”

  I instantly felt my eyes light up. I felt my pulse speed up, my smile grow wider, then something hit me. Mckayla had lied before. What was keeping her from lying this time?

    “Would you lie to me?” I gave her a be-honest-or-die look.

    “Not about something like this.”

  I believe I’d have to hear it from someone else before I believed it. That’s where Joyce came in. she’d do anything for me, as long as it didn’t cost her anything but time.

   But she, and Dennis, were in Mrs. Underwood’s room at the given moment. That presented me with a challenge… one that I fully accepted, without thinking twice about it.

After thinking long and hard, and watching kids come from Mrs. Underwood’s room come into Mrs. Ryerson’s room to sharpen pencils, I thought of something. Something that should’ve been obvious to begin with, for me. A note.

   I scribbled down my request on a sheet of torn notebook paper. No sooner had I folded it up and wrote her name on it in curly cursive letters did another kid from Mrs. Underwood’s room walk in. Perfect.

    As Leslie walked back towards the door, I caught her wrist.

   “What?” she looked confused. She wasn’t one I normally talked to, though we did talk on the bus sometimes.

   “Will you do me a favor?” I gave her a puppy dog look. I hoped she was feeling nice and loving today.

   “Depends. What do you want?” she looked to be in a hurry, so I hurried on with it.

   “Give this to Joyce?” I flashed her the note. She understood instantly. It wouldn’t be the first time she had passed a note between classrooms for me. And it probably wouldn’t be the last.

   “Okay. I want a cookie at lunch.” She said with a smile. She was really pretty. Although she’d never admit it.

   “Consider it already bought.” I smiled back. I really should get to know her better… she’s nice.

   And with that, she walked back out the door.

And in twenty seconds, I imagine Joyce was reading my girly handwriting, requesting a favor. The note read something like this: JoyJoy…. I imagine you’ve heard that Mckayla took my personal life into her own hands. But I don’t trust the information she’s passed back to me, for reasons you and I both know. Would you mind asking him if it’s true? Just mention it in passing. Like say hey, is it true that… yeah yeah yeah. Then write back on this and send Brian over with it. If he requires bribing, give him your cookie money. I’ll buy if you have to do that. Promise. Love you(: aand much thanks.

There was no need to sign off the letter. She would know. And anyone else that got a hold of it wouldn’t. I waited patiently for the note to return, and after what seemed like forever, I saw the flash of Brian’s black and grey jacket out of the corner of my eye. I couldn’t help but smile.

    “Here.” He handed me the sheet of folded up paper. She had folded it backwards and wrote my own name on the front in her best cursive. Fail.

   “Thank you, darling.” I smiled and hugged him. He lingered a moment, and then remembered he had to come back with a pencil that wrote, or we’d be caught.

    I sat down, and stared at it. I wanted to open it. I wanted to open it very badly, but something kept me from it. I didn’t know if it was just me being stupid again, and freaking out over nothing, or if something inside me was trying to protect me from heartbreak. Or both.