The All-New Mallory Pike Read online

  “But you’re not going to,” said Claudia, jumping in to support Abby. “You’re going to — um —”

  “Do homework,” finished Abby decisively. “I don’t care if it is Saturday night,” she added, holding up a hand to ward off any arguments. “I want you all to go to your own rooms and do any homework you have. If you don’t have any, you can just read or color quietly. And after an hour, if nobody’s started any new fights, we’ll make some popcorn and watch a video together.”

  The kids were too shocked to argue. Abby had put her foot down, and there was no point in questioning her. Especially when Claudia was there too, arms folded like a drill sergeant’s, ready to enforce Abby’s orders. Meekly, they climbed the stairs and headed into their rooms.

  Abby and Claudia exchanged a high five. Then they headed for the kitchen to make sure there was popcorn in the cabinets.

  Little did they know that another storm was brewing.

  Ten minutes later, it broke loose.

  There was the sudden sound of pounding feet and slamming doors from upstairs. A chorus of shouts and cries. More pounding feet, more slamming doors.

  Abby and Claudia ran up the stairs and into Vanessa’s room.

  “What — ?” asked Abby when she surveyed the scene. Every one of my brothers and sisters but Byron was stuffed into Vanessa’s room. Vanessa looked furious.

  “It’s ours!” Adam yelled. He held up a drawing of a flag showing three boys against a field of purple stars. “We claim this room for ourselves.”

  Adam and Jordan had stormed Vanessa’s room. The wars had escalated.

  “No, it’s mine, all mine!” Nicky shouted gleefully. He was bouncing on Vanessa’s bed.

  “Wrong!” sang out Margo. She twirled around in the middle of the room. “This is a girls’ room, all the way. Claire and I claim it.”

  “We claim it, we claim it, we dirty, rotten claim it,” sang Claire.

  “Where’s Byron?” asked Claudia, confused.

  “He’s down in the rec room,” Jordan answered disgustedly. “He says he doesn’t care.”

  “That’s because he knows this room is mine,” Vanessa said. “Mine. MINE!” She was yelling at the top of her lungs as she tried to shove Margo out the door.

  A little worried, Abby left Claudia to deal with the Siege of Vanessa’s Room and went downstairs to check on Byron. “What’s up?” she asked him when she found him reading quietly in the rec room. “Don’t you have any opinion about this room issue?”

  He shook his head. “Not really,” he answered. “The whole thing is dumb. Jordan and Adam are acting like babies. Which is kind of funny, since they’re always telling Nicky what a baby he is. Which he isn’t, really.”

  Abby nodded thoughtfully.

  “So you’re staying out of the Room Wars?” she asked.

  He nodded. “However it works out is fine with me. I just want some peace and quiet.”

  “Don’t we all,” Abby said under her breath. She headed back upstairs to find the siege continuing. Claudia was trying to convince the kids to go back to their own rooms, but nobody was about to budge.

  The boys insisted that they’d claimed the room.

  Margo and Claire weren’t about to let that happen.

  And Vanessa shouted that they were all trespassing.

  Finally, Claudia and Abby realized there was nothing they could do, short of physically lifting and moving each of the kids. So they held back and kept an eye on things.

  My parents arrived home an hour or so later. Claudia and Abby filled them in on what was going on. Mom and Dad weren’t — to put it mildly — too happy about the situation.

  “Okay, enough is enough,” my dad announced. “I’m calling a family conference, and we’re going to work this out. Now.”

  My mom invited Claudia and Abby to stay. “Maybe you can help us solve this problem,” she said. “If you can, we’ll pay you double for your time tonight. It would be worth every penny.”

  Claudia and Abby said they wouldn’t think of taking extra pay. But they were happy to stay, mostly out of curiosity.

  Soon the Pike family (minus me, of course) was gathered in the living room. “Okay,” my dad began, “I want each of you to tell me what you think should be done with the room that once belonged to Vanessa and Mal.”

  Everybody started yelling at once, almost before he’d finished the sentence.

  He held up his hands. “Wait!” he yelled. “Wait!”

  Abby whistled again. Everybody fell silent.

  “Thank you,” my dad told Abby. Then he turned back to my brothers and sisters. “One at a time, please,” he said wearily. “Claire, why don’t you go first.”

  Each of the kids stated their case. My parents listened carefully, nodding. Finally, everything was being laid out in an organized manner.

  But it didn’t help. There still didn’t seem to be a solution. Three rooms, seven kids. Was there any way to be fair to everyone?

  Suddenly, Abby sat up straight. She’d been gazing at Byron and thinking. “Byron,” she said, “let me ask you something. Would you mind sharing a room with Nicky?”

  Byron hesitated.

  Jordan and Adam looked at each other. “NO WAY!” they yelled.

  Byron glanced at them and frowned. Then he took a deep breath — and shook his head. “No, I wouldn’t mind,” he said quietly.

  Nicky’s smile lit up the living room.

  “Whoa!” said Claudia. “Step one. And I think I have an idea for step two. Vanessa, how would you like to live with Claire and Margo? If there was enough space for everyone, that is?”

  Vanessa looked down at the floor. “Actually,” she admitted in a small voice, “I think I’d like that.”

  “You can definitely live with us,” said Margo, jumping up to hug Vanessa. “We only stormed your room because we didn’t want the boys to get their way without a fight.”

  My parents took it from there. And, by bedtime, the plan was set: Vanessa, Claire, Margo — and all of my stuff — would move into the big room the boys had been living in. (That’s the part they called me to check out.) Byron and Nicky would move into Margo and Claire’s old room. And Jordan and Adam would share the room that used to belong to Vanessa and me.

  Everyone was happy. And life in the Pike household would soon be back to normal … without me.

  Meanwhile, back at Riverbend, things were not going nearly as smoothly. On Monday, I once again began avoiding my room — and Alexis — as much as possible.

  I had thought some more about Pam’s idea of having us all sit down together, and I’d realized it was probably the only way Alexis and I would ever work things out. But there was one problem. I couldn’t figure out a way to bring the idea up with Alexis.

  Especially since we had hardly exchanged three words since Friday night.

  After classes on Monday, I stopped by the mailroom in the administration building and found a big box, plastered with stickers, waiting for me. A care package from my BSC friends! Sarah and Smita helped me lug it back to Earhart. Alexis was out, so we brought it to my room and opened it. I felt my eyes fill with tears when I saw what my friends had sent me. Suddenly, I missed them all very much. There was a huge box of chocolate chip cookies — homemade ones, from Claudia — and cards from everyone and some horse books from Jessi. There was also a stack of hilarious snapshots Abby had taken at a recent meeting. Mary Anne had stuck in a poster of a kitten, and Kristy had added a key chain with a panda on it. Stacey sent a pair of very cool earrings, sixties-style daisies. The rest of the box was taken up with bags of candy — Hershey’s Kisses, Peanut M&M’s, and Twizzlers — plus wadded-up comics from the Sunday papers.

  “Wow,” Smita said. “You sure do have good friends.”

  “I know,” I said, still feeling choked up.

  Sarah put her arm around me. “You’re lucky,” she said. “Or maybe it’s not just luck. Maybe you have a talent for making friends.” She smiled at me.

  T
hat didn’t help make the choked-up feeling go away.

  “Have a cookie,” I offered, holding the box out to them before I headed for the bathroom to blow my nose.

  When I came back, Sarah and Smita were standing awkwardly by the door of my room. As soon as I walked in, I saw why. Alexis had returned.

  “I guess we’d better head over to the library,” Sarah said, giving me a look. “Remember? We were supposed to meet Jen there.”

  “Oh, right,” I said, taking the cue. In fact, there was no such plan. But we were all uncomfortable around Alexis.

  She barely registered my presence. A slight nod and a distant “Hey,” were all she gave me.

  I closed up the box of presents and left it on my bed. Hopefully, Alexis would leave it alone.

  We hung out at the library until we were almost late for curfew. My room was dark when I returned, and Alexis had already gone to sleep. The box seemed to be just as I’d left it.

  On Tuesday morning, I was up and out of the room early. Our math class was working on a special project that day: cooking corn muffins for the entire school’s lunch. We were to meet in the kitchen right after breakfast.

  The muffins turned out great.

  The day did not.

  Well, that’s not entirely true. In fact, I enjoyed the rest of my classes on Tuesday. In French class Kerry read us a chapter from The Little Prince, in its original language. In global studies, my group had time to work on our project. Our short-story class was discussing a Flannery O’Connor piece. Creative Writing for the Stage was great, as always. Sarah and I were making lots of progress on our scene. Even gym was okay. The teacher, Mary Jo, was starting us on yoga and I was learning to like it.

  It was after classes were over that the day went sour. After spending an hour or so at the library, I headed back to my room to drop off some books and, hopefully, grab some time to catch up on my journal. I opened the door to the room and my heart sank.

  This probably won’t surprise you.

  I don’t know why it surprised me.

  Alexis had demolished my care package.

  The cookies were gone. The rest of the stuff was strewn all around the room. And the snapshots of my friends had been decorated with Magic Marker mustaches, devil horns, and black eyes.

  I sat on my bed, clutching my stomach. This was it. She’d gone too far. I knew I should try to understand why she did the things she did, but I just didn’t feel like it. I didn’t care if she was angry, or unhappy, or jealous about the fact that I had good friends both at Riverbend and at home. I just didn’t care.

  I left things as they were and headed down the hall to find Pam. Fortunately, she was in. I took her to my room and showed her what Alexis had done. “I guess you were right,” I told her. “We need to sit down and work this out. But she and I aren’t talking much. Can you arrange it?”

  That’s all it took. Pam realized how serious the situation had become. By the end of the evening, she’d arranged a meeting for the next day, after classes. And Alexis had been informed.

  Of course, she tried to apologize to me that night, but I refused to listen. “We’ll talk tomorrow,” I told her coldly as I turned out the light and went to sleep.

  The next day seemed to drag by. For the first time at Riverbend I couldn’t concentrate on my classes. Even Sarah and Smita couldn’t cheer me up, though they tried their hardest.

  Finally, after computer lab, it was time for our meeting. I walked into the conference room in the administration building to find Pam waiting — along with Jane Maxwell, the dean of students. I was surprised to see her there.

  “I invited Jane because the situation seems to have become more serious than I thought,” Pam explained. “When I saw your room yesterday, I —”

  Alexis entered then.

  “Welcome, Alexis,” Jane said. She seemed pretty familiar with my roommate. “Let’s all sit down, shall we?” She gestured to the comfy chairs that were ringed around a coffee table.

  We sat.

  Then we began to talk. Pam said that Alexis and I had not been getting along, then asked each of us to describe our relationship as roommates.

  Ugh.

  I didn’t really want to be the one to start.

  Alexis didn’t seem hesitant at all. She jumped right in. “Mallory just doesn’t seem to want to be friends,” she said. “I tried, when we first met. But she buddied up with Sarah and Smita, and that was it for me.” She looked convincingly sad. “I know there are things I’ve done that are not so nice. But I’ve apologized every time. Mallory just isn’t very forgiving.”

  I nearly lost it.

  “Not forgiving?” I asked. “How can I forgive some of the things you’ve done? And why should I? I was the one who wanted to be friends. But you’ve made that impossible.” I knew my face was flushed, and I had to work hard to control my voice.

  Jane stepped in. “Let’s try to calm down a little, both of you,” she said. “It’s clear that something has gone seriously wrong here. I’m trying to understand what it is. Then maybe we can work toward a solution.” She smoothed back her hair. “Now, let’s start from the beginning. Alexis, how was it for you when you came back to school and met your new roommate?”

  Jane guided us with gentle questions. Pam helped too. Little by little, the whole story came out. Only it was twisted, from my point of view. I explained that Alexis had claimed the room, read my journal without asking, borrowed my things, and tried to turn me against my new friends.

  Alexis, in turn, did her best to make those things look like my fault. She truly seemed to see herself as the injured party, the one who deserved all the sympathy.

  Would the dean and Pam believe Alexis — or me?

  “There are a number of ways we try to solve problems like this,” said Jane after our gripe session had ended. “Obviously, one solution is to rearrange the room assignments. But we try to avoid that, since it’s the most complicated way to fix things. And we’d rather see interpersonal issues resolved than avoided.” She paused, looking from me to Alexis. “So, here are a few other ideas. One, you can try to rearrange your room in order to minimize interaction. In other words, make each half of the room off-limits to the other roommate. Sometimes creating boundaries can help quite a bit in these situations.”

  Alexis rolled her eyes. “That’s pretty immature, isn’t it?” she asked. “We’re not little kids.”

  “Okay, here’s another idea,” Jane volunteered. “You can draw up a schedule of ‘room times,’ so that each of you has time alone in the room that is guaranteed, every day.”

  That sounded good to me. I wouldn’t have to tiptoe around, wondering if Alexis would be in the room or not. And I’d have time to write in my journal and read.

  But Alexis was rolling her eyes again. “You know what?” she said, standing up. “I don’t even want to hear any more of your dumb ideas. I don’t care what we do. I’m out of here.” She stormed out of the room.

  I sat there, stunned. Now what?

  Jane gave me a sympathetic smile. “I’m so sorry, Mallory. As you may know, this isn’t the first time Alexis has been in this type of situation. We hoped that things would work out with you two, but perhaps we’re past that point. I’ll speak to the other administrators, and we’ll see what we can do.”

  That made me feel better.

  I headed back to my room, hopeful.

  That feeling died the second I opened the door.

  Alexis was trashing the place. Clothes and books were strewn all over the floor. Her bed had been moved to the farthest corner possible, while mine was in the middle of the room. The top of the bureau was swept clean, and its contents were flung far and wide.

  “What are you doing?” I cried.

  “I’m rearranging the room,” said Alexis with a wild grin. “To minimize interaction.” She threw a few more clothes out of the closet. “I know it looks bad now, but once I’m done you won’t even know I’m here.”

  “Alexis —”
I began. I didn’t know what to say.

  She turned on me. The grin was gone. “That was a setup,” she said angrily. “You and Pam are against me, and all you wanted was to turn Jane against me too. Now I’m in trouble with the dean.”

  “I didn’t even know Jane was going to be there!” I protested.

  Alexis wasn’t listening. She continued to pull things out of the closet, then turned to the drawers.

  What should I do? I had no idea.

  Fortunately, Sarah came in at that moment. “What’s going on in here?” she asked. “I can hear the commotion all the way down the hall.” She took one look and took off. “I’ll find Pam,” she called over her shoulder.

  Pam was able to calm Alexis down — or at least to convince her to stop throwing things around. But Alexis was still angry. She yelled for a few more minutes and then suddenly she stopped. I think she finally realized how bad things looked. There was no way Alexis could blame her behavior on somebody else this time.

  She collapsed onto her bed. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Oh, Mallory, I’m so sorry.”

  I didn’t answer.

  “I’ll put your clothes away,” she promised. “And your books. And everything. Just give me an hour, and I’ll have the room back the way it was.”

  “No, thanks,” I said. I didn’t want the room the way it was. I just wanted to move out of there.

  Right away.

  “Alexis, why don’t you come with me,” Pam suggested. “Let’s go to my room and give Mallory some space. I’m going to have to call Dean Maxwell.”

  Alexis looked stricken, but she didn’t argue. Meekly, she followed Pam out of the room, turning once just as she left to mouth the words “I’m sorry” in my direction.

  I stood in the middle of my room, looking around at the wreckage.

  “Whew!” Sarah exclaimed. “And I thought I was the dramatic one.”

  We laughed — though I felt dangerously close to tears.

  Just then, there was a knock at the door. “Mallory? Is everything okay?”

  It was Smita. And Jen. I opened the door and ushered them in. They stood and stared.