The All-New Mallory Pike Page 7
She wasn’t.
“Hello, stranger,” she said as I came in. She was lying in bed, reading.
“Hi,” I answered a little nervously. I sat down on my bed. I wanted to check for my journal, to make sure she hadn’t somehow found it and read it again. But if I checked for it, she’d see me and I’d have to find another hiding place. I’d have to wait until our lights were out before I went rummaging around. Which meant it would be too dark to write anything. I hadn’t filled many pages in the last few days, that was for sure.
“Did you have a good day?” Alexis seemed to want to talk.
I nodded. “Sure, it was great,” I said. I yawned. “I’m tired, though. I think I’m going to hit the sack.”
“Right.” Alexis’s voice was flat. “I think I get the picture. You have your friends. You don’t need to talk to me.”
“But —” She was the one who’d been unfriendly.
“That’s fine,” she said, reaching up to snap off her light. “Sleep well, Mallory.”
I didn’t, of course. She’d made me feel terrible. Was it mean to avoid her? She seemed hurt. I hadn’t meant to make her feel that way. I’ve always prided myself on being a good friend — and I’d have liked to be a friend to her. But she’d been so prickly and so hard to deal with. I didn’t think it was my fault we weren’t getting along.
The next morning, I woke up feeling bleary. Alexis was already dressed and on her way out the door. “I won’t be around this evening,” she said. “I’m going on the Friday night movie trip into town. So you can have the room to yourself.”
I wondered what the Friday night movie trip was, but a night on my own sounded very, very good. I tried not to let my face show how glad I was to hear the news. “Have fun,” I said.
“Sure,” she said. “ ’Bye.” She was out the door. And I hardly saw her for the rest of the day. The funny thing? I was kind of sorry. I had a lingering feeling, like a bad taste in my mouth.
That night, after dinner, I sat on my bed and wrote in my journal for over an hour. It felt great to catch up. Just as I was finishing, there was a knock at the door and Pam stuck her head in.
“Hi,” I said, surprised.
“Hi, Mallory. Just checking in to see how things are going. You’ve been here for almost a week now.”
Only a week? It seemed like months. “Everything’s great,” I said enthusiastically. “I love my classes. Have you ever taken global studies with Eric and Kathryn? They’re excellent. And I’m having a great time with Sarah and Smita. And the food is great.” I was babbling; I knew it. And I was talking about everything except the roommate problem. It was a subject I wanted to avoid.
“And you’re all settled in here?” Pam asked, waving a hand around the room.
“Oh, sure,” I said. “It’s very comfortable.”
Pam nodded.
“But —” I began. I was thinking of what Jen had said when she urged me to talk to Pam. About how she might be able to help me work things out. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. After all, I hadn’t been able to figure anything out on my own.
Suddenly, I felt the whole story spilling out of me. I told Pam everything about Alexis: the rules, the bossiness, the way she’d claimed the room. And I told her how I’d tried avoiding Alexis, and how she’d made me feel bad about that. I tried to make it clear that I loved everything else about Riverbend, but that I just couldn’t stand being in the room when Alexis was around.
Pam just listened and nodded. Finally, when I’d wound down, she gave me a little hug. “I know it’s hard, Mallory,” she said. “I understand that Alexis isn’t easy to live with. Can I just ask — have you tried talking this out with her?”
I gaped at Pam. “Talking it out? With Alexis?”
She nodded. “It might be worth a try. Maybe things would improve if you could just clear the air a bit. Start over.”
I was doubtful. “I don’t know,” I said.
“Would you give it a try?” Pam asked gently.
“Sure,” I said, shrugging. “I guess I have nothing to lose. I’ll try.”
“That’s the spirit. I’ll check back with you to see how it went. Good luck!” She stood up and gave me one last pat on the shoulder. Then she left.
I spent the next hour trying desperately to think of what on earth I was going to say to Alexis when she came home from the movies.
By the time Alexis walked into the room, I was a nervous wreck. I knew we had to try to work things out, but I still had no idea how we were going to do it. I should be better at talking things over. After all, in a big family you learn to deal with interpersonal problems before they get out of hand. And Jessi and I have been through our share of difficult times: misunderstandings, hurt feelings, things like that.
But this was different.
With both my family and Jessi there was a foundation of love and friendship. I didn’t have anything like that with Alexis. Also, Alexis was — well, Alexis. One thing I could count on was that she wasn’t going to make it easy for me.
When the door swung open and she strolled into the room, it was all I could do to smile and try to act normal. “Hi! How was the movie?”
Alexis shrugged. “Okay, I guess.” She didn’t look at me. Instead, she concentrated on taking off her shoes.
“I heard it isn’t as scary as the first one,” I said.
“I wouldn’t know. I never saw the other one.” She shrugged out of her jacket and hung it up.
“I didn’t either,” I confessed. “I don’t really like scary movies.”
She didn’t answer.
“I like romantic movies or stories about animals,” I went on. “You know, like The Black Stallion. That’s one of my favorites. That and The Incredible Journey. Did you ever see that?”
Alexis looked at me. “You sure are chatty tonight,” she said. “You’ve barely said three words to me all week, and now you want to discuss the cinema in detail?”
I blushed. Then I took a deep breath. “Actually, no,” I said. “But there is something else I’d like to discuss.”
“What is it?”
I took another deep breath. “It’s just — it’s just that I feel like we’re not getting along so well. And I was wondering if we could try to start over.”
Alexis was silent for a moment. She was sitting on her bed, and she’d picked up a nail file. She went to work on her thumbnail while I waited anxiously to see what she’d say next. “Apology accepted,” she said finally.
My mouth fell open. “What?”
“I figure you’re trying to say you’re sorry for the way you’ve been acting,” said Alexis calmly. “I mean, you’ve been treating me like I have bubonic plague or something. You avoid me during the day and only come in here to sleep. Well, I have to admit that it has hurt my feelings a little. But I can probably put it behind me.”
I was flabbergasted. (Don’t you love that word?)
And speechless.
For a moment. Then I managed to squeak something out. “That’s — that’s not exactly what I meant,” I said. Clearly, I was going to have to be a little more straightforward with Alexis.
“Oh?” She arched an eyebrow. “So what did you mean?”
She really wasn’t going to make this easy for me. “Well,” I began, trying to collect my thoughts, “I guess part of the reason I’ve been avoiding the room is because I don’t exactly feel welcome here.”
“Not welcome? In what way?”
I felt like asking if she had a few hours for me to list all the ways. Instead, I mumbled something about her not leaving me any space on the dresser or in the closet.
“You’re kidding,” she said. “So that’s the problem? Why didn’t you just say something?” She stood up and walked to the dresser. Then she ran her arm across the top, pushing all her stuff over to one side. “There. Done. Help yourself.” She plopped back down on the bed.
“Alexis, I —” Clearly, I was making her mad. But I was mad too. She was twistin
g everything I said. “Look,” I continued, “it’s not just the dresser. It’s the rules too — the rules that you made up without consulting me. And the fact that you read my journal. And borrowed my earrings without asking.”
“I apologized for those things,” Alexis replied. “Why do you have to keep bringing them up? It’s like you want to be mad at me. And anyway, if you want to be such close pals, then we should be able to share things like journals and earrings.” Now she looked hurt.
“I don’t share my journal with anyone,” I said stiffly. “And those earrings happen to have a lot of sentimental value to me.”
“Whatever,” said Alexis, yawning. “I won’t take them again. And I won’t read your boring journal. I already told you that.”
I felt my face growing hot. “Look, it’s not about the journal or the earrings,” I said, trying hard not to let my voice shake. “It’s about fairness. And sharing the room as equals. Something you don’t seem to be very good at, as I’m sure Amy and Jen would agree.”
Her head snapped up. “Amy and Jen?” she asked. “Oh, so you’ve heard some gossip and now you think you know it all. Well, you’re wrong. There are two sides to every story, you know.”
“Sure,” I snapped. “There’s your side, and then there’s your side.” I couldn’t believe I had said that. But I was tired of arguing with Alexis. This wasn’t how our talk was supposed to go. In fact, if it went on any longer, I had the feeling both of us might say things we would regret. We might never be able to repair the damage. “Look,” I said in a softer voice, “let’s drop this for now. We’re not making any progress anyway. Maybe we can talk about it tomorrow, when we’re not so tired.”
“Fine,” Alexis spat. By then she was lying on her bed. She turned over so her back was facing me.
I grabbed my toothbrush and marched down the hall to the bathroom. Once there, I squeezed toothpaste out of the tube and started brushing so hard I practically felt my gums screaming.
“Hey, girl, take it easy!” That was Sarah, who had come in behind me. She was giving me an amused look in the mirror. “What’s the matter?”
I was so glad to see her I nearly started crying. I spat out my toothpaste, rinsed, and told her the whole ugly story.
She was sympathetic and full of indignation. “That girl needs to go back to kindergarten and learn how to be a civilized person,” she declared. “What is her problem?”
“I don’t know. I knew it wasn’t going to be easy to talk things out, but I didn’t think it would go that badly.”
“She’s just —” Sarah began. But Alexis walked in then and Sarah stopped in midsentence. I’m sure Alexis noticed, but she didn’t say a word. She just walked to the sink that was farthest away, brushed her teeth, and left.
When I came back into the room, she was already under the covers, asleep — or pretending to be. We didn’t talk anymore that night.
I woke up early, but Alexis must have been up even earlier. Her bed was empty. Where had she gone?
Then I remembered. It was Saturday. The day Riverbend students do community service. I’d be out on my first assignment today. And Alexis must have already left for hers. I decided to put my troubles out of my mind and enjoy the day.
Sarah blew into my room a few minutes later. “How are you feeling today?” she asked. “Ready to take on a bunch of wild kids?”
“You bet,” I answered. “In fact, I can’t wait.”
Sarah was in my community-service group. So were Jen and Pam. I knew we were going to have a terrific time. This week we’d be helping out at the Easton Public Library, where the children’s room sponsored a weekly Saturday morning movie festival for kids. Parents were invited to drop off their children, and many of them took advantage of the offer. The children’s library didn’t have enough staff to supervise so many kids, so we Riverbend students were going to help out. The job was right up my alley.
After breakfast, six of us piled into a minivan. Our French teacher, Kerry, drove us into Easton. For my benefit, she played the part of tour guide as we drove along. She pointed out the lake where we’d be able to swim in spring, a favorite snack bar, a mountain that was traditional to climb on Easter morning. We drove past Edgewood, a boys’ boarding school, and Kerry told me that I’d have a chance to meet Edgewood students at Riverbend’s annual May Day dance, if not sooner. Sarah elbowed me at that point and mouthed something about “stuck-up snobs.” Pam noticed and laughed. “True,” she admitted, “but some of them are cute too.”
That sent everyone else in the van into reminiscing about past May Day dances and romances with boys from Edgewood. The ride to Easton went quickly, and soon we were pulling up in front of the library.
The children’s room was bright and welcoming. And full of excited, happy kids. The films weren’t due to start for half an hour, but the place had already filled up and the kids needed attention. I felt at home right away. Spotting a little girl who looked on the verge of either tears or a tantrum, I introduced myself and took her to a quiet corner where I could read to her. Soon she was snuggled next to me, listening contentedly to the story of Curious George’s trip to the zoo.
At that moment, the problems with Alexis seemed very, very far away.
I returned a little later, when the kids were mostly settled in. Pam pulled me aside to ask how things had gone. “Were you and Alexis able to work things out?” she asked.
I shook my head. “We didn’t even come close,” I said. Then I told her what had happened.
Pam frowned. “I’m sorry, Mallory,” she said. “I know Alexis is hard to deal with, but try to understand that she’s dealing with some issues of her own. I don’t think she’s very happy, and it might be hard for her to watch how easily you’ve fit in at Riverbend.” She stopped herself. Maybe she’d realized that she shouldn’t talk to me about Alexis’s feelings. “But no matter what, the problem between the two of you still needs to be resolved. Maybe I need to sit down with both of you and see if we can talk this through.”
I wasn’t thrilled with the idea of facing Alexis again, but maybe with Pam’s help we’d do a little better. “I’m willing to try,” I said. “I’m not so sure about Alexis, though.”
Just then, a boy of about ten came running over to us. “I think I have to throw up!” he announced.
I swung into action, grabbing him and pulling him toward the bathroom. “You can make it,” I said. “See you, Pam!” I called over my shoulder.
We made it.
The rest of the morning flew by. After the movies we helped serve a snack and then spent an hour or so playing organized games and reading out loud. It was majorly fun. In fact, I had such a great time with the kids and with the other Riverbend students that I almost forgot about Alexis.
Almost.
Abby’s e-mail went on for quite a while. I read happily, glad to hear how things had finally calmed down back at home. (I’d had a quick phone call about it the night before — Saturday — just to see if I agreed with the solution. But I hadn’t heard much about how it had come together.)
Maybe I couldn’t work out my roommate problems, but at least my brothers and sisters had worked out theirs.
Anyway, as Abby explained it, the evening started with my parents practically running out the door as soon as she and Claudia arrived. “They were headed to the movies,” Abby wrote. “And I don’t think they were late. But they looked as if they couldn’t wait to leave the house.”
When they saw the state my siblings were in, Abby and Claudia agreed that they couldn’t blame my parents for bolting out of there.
Nicky and Adam were in the kitchen, squabbling.
Vanessa and Margo were in the living room, quarreling.
Jordan and Claire were on the second-floor landing, having words.
Byron was sulking by himself in the rec room.
Ugh.
Abby and Claudia went to work. Abby headed to the kitchen to separate Nicky and Adam, while Claudia went upstairs to medi
ate between Jordan and Claire (Claire was working herself into a full-scale tantrum). Then they met in the living room to make peace between Vanessa and Margo. They gathered all the kids together there to talk.
For about three seconds, the house was quiet and peaceful.
Then the yelling started all over again.
“Tell Jordan to give up!” Vanessa shouted. “It’s my room, and he can’t have it.” She folded her arms and stuck out her lower lip.
“Tell her to quit boasting about it,” Adam yelled back. “Did you hear her latest poem? It goes, ‘A single room is not to be had, even by the likes of Mom and Dad.’” He quoted Vanessa in a high, singsong voice. “Aaugh!” he added at the end of his recitation.
“And tell her she can’t kick me out of my bed,” Margo put in. “I don’t mind if she visits us, but the bed’s not big enough for both of us. Last night I ended up on the floor.”
“What’s this?” Abby asked.
“Vanessa has been hanging out in our room,” said Margo. “Even though she has her own gigundo room, she has to squeeze into ours. And last night she even slept in there. In my bed.”
Abby and Claudia exchanged glances. Interesting. So Vanessa was feeling lonesome in that big, old room. She seemed to like the idea of her own room better than the reality of it.
“Who cares about your stupid room!” Vanessa yelled. “I’ll never come in there again, if that’s what you want. I’ll just stay in my room. My single room.”
“Fine!” said Margo.
“Fine!” echoed Claire, adding a stamp of her foot for emphasis.
“Not fine!” yelled Nicky. “It’s not your room for keeps. Mom and Dad said so.”
“That’s right,” Adam said, agreeing for once with his younger brother. “So don’t start acting like that room belongs to you. Or else.”
“Or else what?” Vanessa asked teasingly.
Abby stuck two fingers in her mouth and whistled loudly. “Hold it right there,” she shouted. Then she dropped her voice. “This is ridiculous. You guys could go on fighting about this all night.”