I glanced around in a panic, looking for my best friend Rebecca. We’d just started sixth grade, and it was the first year we’d be in separate classrooms. I’d been having anxiety about it all summer. My mother had basically told me to stop whining and get over it, that I’d make new friends, that maybe even it would b
e a good idea to put some space between Rebecca and me.
But that didn’t make me feel any better. I was a shy, nervous wallflower, just like Rebecca. We’d bonded in fourth grade, when a teacher had put us together on a project. Ever since then, we’d been close friends. I didn’t want to face the treacherous world of middle school without her.
“Hey!” I yelled. “How was your first day?”
Rebecca made a face as I pushed my way through the crowd.
“Not good,” she said when I got closer.
I sighed. “Me, neither,” I said. “I can’t believe this, it sucks so much. I wish my mom would call the school and have them put me in your class.”
“I know,” Rebecca said. She groaned. “My stupid brother is late – he’s supposed to be picking me up and taking me home. You want a ride?”
“Your brother?” My heart skipped a beat in my chest. Alex, Rebecca’s brother, was seventeen and a senior in high school. I’d never met him before, but I had seen pictures hanging in the hallway of Rebecca’s house. Alex was the hottest guy I’d ever seen. He looked just like Leonardo DiCaprio in Titanic. Just seeing his pictures was enough to make me feel all hot and squirmy.
“Yeah, Alex,” Rebecca said, tossing her light brown hair over her shoulder and groaning. “I hate him, especially since he started driving! He thinks it makes him like, so cool, but he’s such a loser!”
“Why?” I wrinkled my nose.
“Because Mom and Dad let him get away with murder,” Rebecca said. She pulled her hair into a messy bun, then slung her My Little Pony backpack over her shoulder. I followed into the crowded hall and together, we pushed through the other kids. It was crazy – being with Rebecca always made me feel better, more confident about myself.
I had no idea how I was going to get through this year without her.
I shrugged. “I wish I had a brother,” I said, even though I was secretly happy to be an only child. “I get so lonely sometimes.”
Rebecca glared at me over the tops of her glasses. “You definitely don’t,” she said. “Having a brother sucks. It’s like, the worst thing on earth.”
Late August in New Jersey meant hot and humid days and I could barely breathe as I followed Rebecca outside. A line of cars was parked in front of the school – moms and dads hugging their kids and bundling them into the waiting cars.
“I don’t see him anywhere,” Rebecca said, shielding her eyes from the sun. “You should probably just take the bus.”
“No,” I said quickly.
Rebecca gave me a funny look. “Molly? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I mumbled, my cheeks burning bright red. “I’m fine.”
Rebecca slumped down and sat in a patch of shade on the concrete, crossing her legs over themselves and hunching over her backpack.
“I knew he’d be late,” she said, shaking her head and looking sour. “I told Mom he’d be late, but she didn’t care!”
I knew better than to argue with my friend. As much as I loved being best friends with Rebecca, I didn’t know why she seemed to hate her brother so much. How could anyone hate someone so cute, with that twinkle in his eye? He was pop-star handsome, surely he had to be really friendly and fun.
At twenty minutes past four, the roar of an engine filled my ears. I looked up to see Rebecca’s dad’s Mustang convertible, candy-apple red with the top down. Sure enough, the handsome boy from the photos was behind the wheel. When he saw Rebecca, he honked the horn and smirked.
Rebecca took a long time climbing to her feet. Alex threw me an amused look, then turned to his sister.
“Rebecca!” Alex said, smirking. “I had no idea you were such a little lesbo! Who’s this charming friend?”
“Shut up, Alex,” Rebecca said through gritted teeth. “This is my best friend, Molly.”
Alex made his eyes wide. “Oh, the famous Molly!” He raised an eyebrow and snickered. “I’ve heard so much about you!”
I bit my lip, blushing harder than I’d ever blushed in my life. It was almost as bad as the time I’d wet myself in second grade, right in the middle of the school play Alice in Wonderland.
“Hi,” I said shyly.