My fountain brother talks to me when we walk down the street, and asks me if I want ice cream when he gets himself some. He tells me jokes until we collapse in a heap from laughing so hard, and tiptoes with me into Mom and Dad’s room with a tray of breakfast food we cooked together (like I see in commercials). My fountain brother protects me when a bunch of boys his age pelt me with ice balls behind the library. He patiently helps me with my homework, instead of saying “How do you not get that?” He reads books with me in blanket forts and never hits me or kicks me or spits into my ear when I’m sleeping or sprays me with the hose when I am all dressed up for my father-daughter Girl Scout dance.
Once, when I was nine or ten, I dumped a mason jar full of money into the fountain, dollar bills and all.
“Why did you do that?” Granny said, fishing out the soggy money. Granny always takes me to the Cheesecake Factory when she visits.
“Please leave the money there,” I said. “My wish hasn’t come true yet.”
A 217-PERSON GROUP CHAT
Until now, the biggest group chat I’ve ever been on was sixty people. It was the Scott Kleinman Bar Mitzvah group chat, and it wasn’t that exciting, because his mom started it to make sure we all knew when to be at the synagogue, and that we had to cover our shoulders during the service, and that the bus home from the Basketball Hall of Fame would drop us in front of Stop & Shop between eleven and eleven thirty.
That group chat was 90 percent girls asking what people were wearing, until the day before the bar mitzvah. Then it was 90 percent boys asking what people were wearing. One kid kept asking people how much they were giving Scott, because he heard it had to be in multiples of thirteen. Everyone kept texting 18, as in multiples of eighteen. I don’t think the kid ever realized Scott and his mom could see the whole conversation.
I didn’t even know a 217-person group chat was possible until yesterday, when Scott Kleinman (ironically) started a Camping Trip Anyway group chat: My parents and Jessie Lahey’s parents say they’ll chaperone if we want to do our own trip to Strawberry Hill. Same day. Reply if you’re in.
Two hundred seventeen of 220 of us are in. I know two kids are heading to India before the end of the year, so they’re out. That leaves one eighth-grade classmate unaccounted for.
The parents are having a meeting at the library to discuss the camping trip, because obviously four parents cannot control 217 middle schoolers. I’m praying my parents don’t get roped into this. My mom was a room mom five times, and my dad was the DJ at the father-daughter Girl Scout dance. I’ll remind them they’ve done their duty and they should let somebody else step up.
People are cursing a lot in the Camping Trip Anyway group chat.
Nick and his friends are plotting how to smuggle their vape pods. They ask if any of the girls would like to hide pods in their bras. Nobody is answering them.
I kind of hope Scott’s mom is reading this one too.
LETTER TO SCOTT KLEINMAN
If it weren’t weird to write a letter to Scott Kleinman about his bar mitzvah, I would say this:
Dear Scott,
It looked like you put a lot of work into preparing for your bar mitzvah. It was very brave of you to stand in front of your family and friends and people from out of town (I think your dad said there were people there from California and Miami). You didn’t even make a face when the kids from our class wouldn’t shut up. I was really impressed with your Hebrew skills and the project you did to educate people about service dogs.
But most of all, I remember the speech your parents gave, about how you have been kind and generous your whole life, including the time you offered your hot pretzel to a girl who had dropped hers (when you were three!). Your parents were so emotional and full of love, and you didn’t even seem embarrassed when they hugged you.
I left your bar mitzvah with an empty feeling, because I knew my parents would never be able to give such a beautiful speech about Danny, and I wasn’t sure they would be able to think of anything special to say about me.
Anyway, good job.
Your classmate,
Molly
SOMETIMES APPLES ARE JUST EVIL
I used to come home from school and immediately tell my parents all the things Nick and his friends said:
“Nick called Bea ‘Pencil Legs.’”
“Nick called Amar ‘Isis.’”
“Nick called Liza ‘Rice and Beans.’”
“Nick called Scott ‘Jew Fro.’”
“Nick spit on Julissa and called her the n-word.”
“Nick called Sarah Sims ‘a hairy beast man.’”
“Nick called Ashley ‘Filet-O-Fish Breath.’”
“Nick called Jacob and another kid with autism ‘mental midgets.’”
Even when he said the most horrible things—things that would get Danny and me punished for all eternity—my parents always said, “Just ignore him, Molly. I’m sure he’s getting it from somewhere. The apple usually doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
But I’ve met Nick’s parents. They are really nice. Maybe they are cruel and awful at home, but they were friendly and helpful to everyone when they chaperoned our class morning hikes.
Maybe, just maybe, apples are born evil.
Maybe the tree doesn’t have anything to do with it.
Now Nick has all his minions calling Olivia “Tampon Fail.” Nobody ever said his nicknames were clever. I’m sure my parents would tell Olivia to ignore them. He’s nothing but an apple rotting on the ground.
I will tell Olivia to fight back, because that’s the kind of mood I’m in these days.
DRESS CODED: A PODCAST
EPISODE TWO
ME: My name is Molly Frost, and this is Dress Coded: A Podcast. I’ve decided to speak out on the issue of school dress coding after my friend was humiliated by the principal of our middle school for wearing a tank top that exposed her shoulders. In my opinion, it is wrong to do this to a thirteen-year-old girl. I have invited guests to talk about the issue of dress coding in middle school. Today, I welcome Liza R., who is well known for her volleyball and writing skills. She once wrote a ten-page epic poem about Puerto Rico. It was seriously epic. What was the title, Liza?
LIZA: “Isla Green and Blue.”
ME: That’s right. It was so good. Okay, so we’re here to talk about dress coding. What has been your experience?
LIZA: I had to bring my journal for this one.