Just then she heard someone call out, “Izzy! Yoo-hoo!” Allie skidded up and stopped next to Izzy with a screech of brakes. “Hi!” she said.
“Hi,” said Izzy. “How come you’re here so early?”
“ ’Cause I knew that you’d be here way too early, so I came to keep you company,” said Allie.
“Thanks.” Izzy grinned.
“Plus, I’m excited,” said Allie. “I mean, middle school, right?” She took off her bike helmet and her gorgeous white-blond hair looked as wired as she sounded. It stuck up and out all over her head in exclamation points, catching the sunlight, looking bright, electric, and exuberant. “You look great, Izzy,” Allie said, and before Izzy could respond, Allie looked down and sighed, “I’m a walking disaster.”
“What do you mean?” asked Izzy.
“Well, look!” Allie made a sweeping motion with her hands from her shirt downward.
She was wearing a bluish tie-dye shirt, blue jeggings, and mismatched blue socks that peeked out over her blue tennis shoes. “Bubbie decided that I’m old enough to do my own laundry,” Allie explained. “So I put my new blue jeggings in the wash with lots of my socks and T-shirts. The jeggings bled all over them and tinted them different shades of blue!”
“Blue’s nice!” said Izzy.
Allie sighed again. “Oh, well,” she said. “At least now all my clothes go together, so I have the greatest possible number of combinations of outfits.”
“It’ll make getting dressed in the morning quicker,” added Izzy. “You won’t have to waste time deciding what color shirt to wear. They’re all—”
“Blue!” Allie chimed in cheerfully. She looked around. “It seems like there are hundreds of kids arriving, more every minute. But I don’t see Char. I’m the one who’s usually late! Oh, well. She probably got distracted by an earthworm or something.”
It was true that when Charlie was watching an animal or studying an unusual plant she became so absorbed that she forgot about everything else.
“No, I bet she’s here and we just can’t find her,” Izzy said, trying not to sound anxious. “There are lots of bike racks. We should have checked it out ahead of time and said specifically which one we’d meet at.”
“I’ll call her,” said Allie, getting out her cell phone.
“Don’t let a teacher see that,” warned a passing student, “or it’ll end up in phone jail.”
“Phone jail?” repeated Allie. “What’s phone jail?”
“A box in the principal’s office,” said the boy. “You can’t get your phone back till the end of the day.”
Allie quickly jammed her phone into her pocket. “Now what’ll we do?” she asked Izzy. “How will we find Charlie? What if the bell rings and it’s time to go inside? We can’t be late on our first day!”
Izzy was already on edge, and Allie’s questions came close to nudging her into a panic. Luckily, just then they saw Charlie rolling toward them on her bike, eating a banana that she held in her free hand. Charlie was wearing cotton pants and a T-shirt that said “Lettuce turnip the beet.” She looked unruffled and unhurried, even as Allie was waving to her and shouting, “Hurry up!”
“I love your shirt,” said Izzy. “Very vegetarian.”
“Thanks,” said Charlie as they all parked their bikes in the bike rack. “I wore short sleeves because last year on the first day of school I roasted. But I’m starting to regret it…it’s chilly out today!”
When the girls entered the building, Allie shivered and said, “Yikes! It’s freezing in here!”
“My shirt should say ‘Lettuce turnip the HEAT’!” said Charlie, rubbing her arms to warm them.
“The temperature must be absolute zero,” said Izzy. Granddad had taught her that absolute zero is the coldest possible temperature. “I’ve got goose bumps,” she continued. “But maybe that’s just because I’m excited.”
“Body temperature rises with emotion,” said Charlie. “It doesn’t sink.”
Then I should be boiling, thought Izzy, because I’m a hot mess.
It was just as hard to walk in the busy, bustling, bulging building as Izzy had feared it would be. The halls were so jammed that the girls were shoved and buffeted, jostled and pushed, and they had to wiggle their way along the wall to get by. There were two staircases, and both of them were challenging to navigate because some students were cascading down while others were battling to go up.
“I feel like a salmon swimming my way up a waterfall,” said Charlie as she and Izzy and Allie struggled up one of the staircases. Charlie was the tallest of the three girls, so she led the way. But even so, because of the congested halls and staircase, the girls were last to the auditorium for sixth-grade assembly, which was nerve-racking. And worse than that, they were scolded when they finally got there. “Girls, you are going to have to move faster,” a teacher said, shaking her head as they skittered into the auditorium.
Allie began to protest, “We—”
“Go!” said the teacher. She waved them forward into the auditorium, saying, “Find seats.”
In among the scary sea of strangers, Izzy was glad to see some faces that were familiar from her old elementary school, the lake, and even her neighborhood. But of course, she admitted to herself, she was really searching for one face in particular: Marie’s.
It was Allie who first spotted her. “Don’t look now,” Allie muttered. She tilted her head toward the front of the auditorium. “There’s Mademoiselle Marie.”
Izzy’s heart lifted at the sight of her old friend. When Marie had cut off communication with her, Izzy had tried not to care so that she didn’t hurt so much. Now all of her feelings for Marie came rushing back. She was so glad to see her! Marie was down by the stage. She was standing up, looking around.
“Marie is looking for us,” said Izzy happily.
“Not likely,” said Allie. “See that one empty seat next to her? She’s saving it for someone. That’s a no-brainer.”
“Maybe,” said Izzy. “But let’s go say hi anyway.”
“Okay.” Allie shrugged. “It’s your funeral.”
Izzy led the way. Charlie was close behind, walking slowly as if toward an animal she didn’t want to startle, and Allie was lagging last. Izzy kept her eyes on Marie’s face as they went toward her. When Marie saw them, Izzy gave her a little wave. Marie didn’t exactly frown, but she didn’t smile, either. Her expression was a hard-to-read chemical concoction of surprise, dread, and discomfort.
“Welcome back, Marie,” said Izzy. She spoke softly and reached out for a hug.
Marie stepped back, out of hugging range. “Thanks,” she said flatly.
She only nodded when Charlie said, “We’re happy to see you.”
Allie and Marie said at the same time, “Hi.”
“So! No more glasses,” said Izzy, a little too heartily. “You’ve got contact lenses now. Very cool. And you don’t have braces anymore, either.”