Stacey vs. Claudia Read online

  “You’d better,” I told her. “Have fun.”

  “Thanks. ’Bye.”

  So … there it was. I’d done my good deed. I’d been the best of best friends. I’d been unselfish and helpful.

  How did I feel?

  Great!

  (I’m lying.)

  I felt as if a dead fish were lying in my stomach. Or maybe I felt as if I were a dead fish, all droopy and glassy-eyed.

  I stood there replaying Jeremy’s words — Oh, that’s too bad. I tried to remember exactly how he’d sounded. Had he been truly disappointed? Or was he only being polite?

  Maybe he was surprised, as in, ‘Oh, that’s too bad.’ Or maybe he didn’t believe it. Did his words have a sarcastic edge? ‘Oh, that’s too bad.’ Did he suspect he’d been tricked? If he did, what would he think of me?

  I worried about that as I wandered into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, searching for a snack. I tried to hear his voice again in my mind. Maybe he was just being nice. He was thrilled that I wasn’t coming.

  Then an exciting thought came to me. What if he called later to see how I was feeling?

  I’d say I felt much better, and we would go on to talk for hours.

  But wait … I wasn’t supposed to want that. Even if Jeremy called, I was supposed to encourage him to like Claudia.

  If that’s what I had to do, then I didn’t want him to call.

  Being the best best friend in the world wasn’t making me feel nearly as great as I’d expected.

  Claudia didn’t call me on Friday night. And I didn’t have it in me to call her.

  By Saturday morning, though, I was dying to know how the evening had gone.

  I phoned Claud at nine-thirty, even though I knew she liked to sleep until ten on the weekends. “Hello?” she answered groggily.

  “How was it?” I got right to the point.

  “Oh, Stacey, hi,” she replied, struggling to come fully awake. “It was great.”

  Disappointment swept over me, but I fought it back. “Oh, good!” I said cheerily. “Tell me everything.”

  “Oh, Stacey, he’s so wonderful. We ate at Friendly’s. I can hardly remember what I ate because we were so busy talking. He’s really interesting. Did you know he can speak Spanish and knows Navajo? He lived in New Mexico for a while. He knows all about the Native American cultures there. He’s been to ceremonies and ritual dances and everything.”

  He certainly did sound interesting. I wished I’d been there.

  “What movie did you see?” I asked.

  “The new one about the guy and girl who get separated in outer space and have to go through ten dimensions of space and time to find each other again. It was really romantic.”

  I knew the one she meant. “Did Jeremy like it?” It was an artistic, romantic film, not exactly a guy kind of movie.

  “He loved it,” she replied.

  I should have known that Jeremy would appreciate something sensitive and imaginative — and not be embarrassed to admit it.

  Next came the question I really didn’t want to ask. But Claudia would know something was wrong if I didn’t ask it.

  “And …” I began. “Did he?”

  “What?”

  “You know.”

  “No, he didn’t kiss me,” she admitted.

  I grinned.

  “But I think next time he will.”

  “Did he ask you out again?”

  “Not yet. But you know how you can just tell that things went well,” she said. “Thank you so much for setting this up, Stacey. You’re a genius.”

  “Of course. I knew that,” I joked. “I’m glad you had such a great time.”

  “We really did,” she agreed dreamily.

  “You might as well go back to sleep,” I said. “Call me when you wake up again.”

  “Okay.”

  The front doorbell rang. I clicked off with Claudia and ran to answer it, figuring it was Mom. She goes out jogging on Saturday morning and always forgets to bring her keys with her.

  But it was Jeremy.

  “Hi!” I said.

  He smiled sheepishly. “I was nowhere near the neighborhood, so I thought I’d drop by.”

  I smiled.

  “No … really. You were the only McGill in the phone book. And I was wondering how you were feeling,” he added.

  “Much better,” I said — which was suddenly true. “Come on in.”

  He stepped into the hallway and I led him to the kitchen. Mom’s rule is that I can invite a boy in when she’s not here if we stay in the kitchen.

  Words can’t describe how excited I was at that moment. I felt as if I were having a great big happy dream and any minute I might wake up. Until I did, though, I planned to enjoy every second.

  Jeremy had come to see how I was feeling.

  How sweet was that?!

  “Want something to eat or drink?” I offered. “Some soda or juice?”

  “No, thanks. I felt bad that you couldn’t come last night.”

  He did?

  Wham! My heart slammed into my chest.

  “Me too. How’d the date go?”

  He wrinkled his brow. “Date?”

  Another oops. “I meant … you know … whatever,” I said uneasily.

  “It wasn’t a date,” he said. “Claudia’s real nice, but …”

  Now my heart was racing. What was he trying to say?

  “I mean …” he struggled on. Whatever he was trying to say wasn’t coming to him easily. “You know, don’t you?”

  I shook my head.

  “Claudia’s great,” he said.

  “She is,” I agreed.

  He looked at me helplessly. I felt that he wanted me to come to his aid in some way, but I was clueless.

  “But I was hoping that … that … you’d be there.”

  Was he really saying what I thought he was saying? What I hoped he was saying?

  He took a deep breath before he spoke again. “Stacey, would you like to go out sometime — just you and me?”

  “What about Claudia?”

  “Oh, Claudia’s great, but … you know …”

  Now — finally — I got it!

  But I didn’t know what to do with it.

  “What do you say?” he asked.

  Good question.

  Did he realize how Claudia felt about him? If he didn’t, should I tell him?

  And would Claudia want to kill me if I went out with him?

  I could answer that one. Yes. Definitely.

  But he was so cute and I liked him so much. And now I knew he liked me too.

  It wasn’t fair!

  “If you don’t want to go out I understand,” he said as he began backing up toward the kitchen door.

  I panicked.

  He thought I wasn’t answering because I didn’t want to go out.

  “I do want to go!”

  “Great,” he said, his face lighting up.

  “But I’m not sure I can,” I added.

  “What’s the problem?”

  “Well … it’s not you. And it’s not another boyfriend either. But I can’t say more than that … except I would really love to — if I could. But I don’t know.”

  “Okay, that really clears things up,” he joked.

  “I’m sorry. Could I call you tomorrow night with an answer?”

  “Sure. I didn’t mean to upset you or anything.”

  “No, you haven’t. Really. Actually, I’m very glad you asked.”

  Jeremy smiled and said good-bye, letting himself out the back door.

  I sank onto a kitchen chair, still staring at the place where he’d stood.

  He liked me. Me!

  It was too wonderful to believe.

  But it was true. He’d stood right here in this very kitchen and said it. Out loud!

  I had no idea what I was going to do.

  It seemed strange to me that I’d ever thought of myself as the best best friend in the world. Because now I thought
of myself as the worst friend anyone could have.

  Not that I’d done anything wrong.

  Yet.

  I was sure considering it, though. If Jeremy wasn’t interested in Claudia, anyway … then what did it matter if I went out with him?

  He wasn’t going to ask Claudia for a date.

  There was no sense in both of us losing out. Was there?

  But would Claudia see it that way?

  That was the problem.

  I spent the rest of Saturday thinking about this. Worrying. Agonizing.

  A true best friend would say, “No way. This is a guy my friend likes. I can’t even think about it.”

  Or would she?

  “Stacey, what’s wrong?” Mom asked over dinner. “Your head is somewhere else. Is it Ethan?”

  Wow! I hadn’t even thought about him in two days. Maybe I really was the most fickle, heartless person on earth.

  “No,” I admitted. I decided to tell her everything. “Claudia and I both like the same boy, only he likes me and not her.”

  “Uh-oh. What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know. What should I do?”

  She thought a moment before speaking. “How much do you like this boy?”

  “A lot?”

  “And Claudia?”

  “A lot.”

  “Oh, dear.”

  “Tell me what to do,” I pleaded.

  “Sorry, hon. I can’t. Because I don’t know. You should talk to Claudia, though.”

  I groaned. I couldn’t picture telling any of this to Claudia. She’d be so mad at me. I knew she would.

  Mom shook her head. “You’re in a tough situation.”

  Like she had to tell me that!

  I tried not to think about Claud that night. But in the morning, as soon as I opened my eyes, all my anxious thoughts flooded back. Normally, I would have talked to Claudia about a problem. Or I might have discussed it with Ethan over the weekend. Neither was a choice.

  From downstairs I heard the front door close. I knew Mom had gone for her morning run. She says that although she runs for the exercise, it also clears her head and helps her think better.

  That’s what I needed. Something to clear my head.

  I dressed in navy-blue sweats, hurried downstairs, had a muffin and some juice, then went outside.

  It was cool, which was nice for jogging. Since it was early on Sunday, not many people were out. I began to run at an easy pace.

  I discovered that Mom was right. After about a block I stopped worrying about Claudia. I simply looked at the houses and plants as I passed. I let my mind go blank.

  When I turned the corner, I spotted another jogger heading toward me. It was Rachel Griffin. “Hi,” she called, slowing down as we neared each other. “I see you’re a jogger too.”

  “I just started this morning,” I confessed, stopping.

  She jogged lightly in place. “It’s not good to stop because your muscles tighten up. Why don’t we jog together? I’ll turn around and go your way.”

  “Okay,” I agreed. We began jogging side by side. It was nice to have someone to keep pace with.

  “Is something the matter?” she asked after half a block.

  I turned toward her, surprised. “How did you know?”

  She shrugged as she ran. “When kids our age jog, they’re either overweight, training, or worried. You’re not overweight. Are you training for something?” I shook my head. “Then you’re worried.”

  I slowed to a walk and she did too. “Could we talk?”

  “Sure.”

  I was happy to have someone to discuss this with, someone totally uninvolved. I told her everything.

  “Even if you don’t go out with him, he’s not asking Claudia out. Right?” Rachel asked.

  “Right.”

  “It would be sleazy for you to go out with him without talking to her, though,” she said thoughtfully.

  “But I can’t talk to her!”

  “I think you have to. If she’s really a friend, she’ll understand. She won’t be happy. Her feelings will be hurt. But that’s how it goes sometimes.”

  “She’ll think I stole him from her,” I objected.

  “But you didn’t. That’s part of what you have to point out to her. Do you think this guy is worth the trouble?”

  “I like him a lot,” I replied.

  “Then if he’s worth it … he’s worth it. If he’s not interested in Claudia, and then you turn him down eventually he’s going to ask out someone else. Hey, maybe I should go out with him.”

  “Rachel!” I cried.

  She laughed. “Just kidding. But see what I mean? How would you feel if some third person came along and got him?”

  “Stupid, I suppose,” I answered. “You’re good at sorting things out. You’re right. If this were a movie, that’s how the story would end if my character turned down the Jeremy character.”

  “I suppose I think in terms of plots, since I’m such a play and movie fan,” she said.

  “Me too!” I cried. “A total fanatic.”

  “I want to be an actress. I studied acting in London. Even got a small role in a BBC drama.”

  I knew, from watching public TV, that BBC meant British Broadcasting Corporation. “You were on TV? How cool!”

  “It was really exciting,” she said. “I played the daughter of a woman who was murdered. In the story they thought I did it until a private detective proved I was innocent. All I had to do was keep saying, ‘I didn’t do it. I didn’t.’ But it was great.”

  When she said “I didn’t do it!” she slipped into a convincing British accent.

  “I believed you were a true Brit just then,” I commented.

  “I wasn’t in London long enough to pick up the accent for real, but I’ve heard it enough to put it on. I wish I had picked it up. A British accent would be so cool.”

  “It would,” I agreed.

  We walked back to the block where we’d met. I was feeling pretty good. Talking to Rachel had cheered me up.

  “It’s easy to talk to you,” I told her.

  “You too!” she said. Then she gazed up the block. “I’d better get back. Mom wanted me to go with her to the airport. Friends from England are arriving.”

  “Thanks for listening,” I said.

  “Anytime,” she called over her shoulder as she jogged off. “I mean it.”

  Unfortunately, my good mood faded quickly after Rachel left.

  When I got home, Mom was still out jogging. The message light on our answering machine blinked, so I checked it.

  Hi, it’s Ethan. Just calling to see how you are. I’ll be at my class from noon till two. After that you can reach me at the gallery or at home tonight after eight. Call me, okay? ’Bye.

  I wasn’t excited to hear from him. Why should I call him? What was the point anymore?

  We could say we hadn’t completely broken up, but we had. Maybe it had been coming for a while. We hadn’t made much time to see each other over the summer. Back then I’d thought it was just bad luck. Now I was starting to realize that when you really care about another person, you make the time for him.

  Our relationship had probably started fading months ago and I just hadn’t seen it.

  I wandered into the living room and threw myself onto the couch.

  I’d promised Jeremy an answer by tonight. I couldn’t call him, though — not until I talked to Claudia.

  Monday morning came way too soon. After a night of tossing and worrying, I woke up with scratchy, dry eyes. I was dreading what I was about to do.

  I pulled off my nightgown and began to get dressed. Then I stopped, remembering something important. I swept a pack of lined index cards from my dresser and put them in the front pocket of my backpack. I had actually written down what I planned to say to Claudia. I figured I might be so nervous that I’d forget.

  I felt I’d put together an argument so convincing that Claudia had to see things my way. I was actually pretty pro
ud of myself.

  On the first card I’d written:

  Claudia, you know that I value your friendship more than anything on earth. I would never do something to hurt you. Your feelings are completely important to me. In this case, though, I’m afraid you will soon learn some disappointing news. This has nothing to do with me.

  On card two, I revealed the bad news, that Jeremy didn’t like her in that way. I used the most gentle words I could think of:

  Although he thinks you are a really great person — which is totally true — he doesn’t have that romantic feeling. I’m sure he hopes you and he can be close friends.

  The third card went on to list her great qualities. I also mentioned that a lot of boys would notice these things about her and would be interested. Jeremy wasn’t the only guy in the world, after all.

  I knew card three was really just a stall. I felt I’d need that time to work up the nerve for the fourth card.

  As you may have guessed, on card four I asked if she’d mind if I went out with Jeremy. Here I took a risk.

  I said that if she minded, I wouldn’t do it.

  I was, of course, counting on her to say she didn’t mind. I’d been very concerned about her feelings. I hoped she’d care about my feelings just as much. She wouldn’t want me to be miserable over Jeremy. Would she?

  Armed with my well-thought-out, logical cards, I headed for school. I went directly to Claudia’s locker.

  She was there, putting her books into her locker.

  I froze.

  Was this really the time and place to have this talk — in the middle of the hallway, with kids all around us?

  Probably not.

  I’d have the chance to speak with her privately after lunch. It was still warm enough to go outside. We’d find a spot alone out there.

  I backed down the hall. When I turned, I was face-to-face with Jeremy. “Oh … hi,” I said, startled to see him. (Was it possible that he’d grown cuter over the weekend?)

  “Hi,” he said, seeming uncomfortable. “I went out for a little while last night, so I wasn’t sure if you called or not.”

  “Ummmm … no … I didn’t,” I admitted. “I’m going to talk to Claudia and see what she says.”

  “Okay. Whatever you decide. You know … But I hope you decide to … you know.”

  “I hope so too,” I said.