A Mystery...Solved?

The girls all looked over at the new kid here at Deerfield Park Middle School. She sat rigid, her food barely picked at. Her coffee hands were folded neatly like they would be would she have had them on her lap. Nonetheless, she returned the look and smiled small.                                 

“She’s looking!” One of the girls hissed to the others except one, and selfishly went back to her tray of fries, ketchup and a hamburger. Immersing herself, she ordered them to imitate her. However, metal scraped against luxury vinyl. “You guys!” She whispered, darting her eyes to each girl, but the others still flouted her. “She’s—”   

Someone hushed her with a look, and continued watching as the black girl rose importantly from her seat. Collecting her full tray of apple, cinnamon bun, milk carton and leafy tomato and hamburger sandwich, she carried it over to these middle schoolers.

“Hi!” The girl chirped as all eyes but two stared, unblinking, at her. The hissing girl glared at the one who shushed her.      

“Hel…lo.” The girl with black straight hair broke the awkwardness. “What’s your name?”  

“Ann!” She grinned brightly. 

“Mari.” She ignored the other girl as her eyes assumedly bored into her.

Ann swung each leg over the table’s bench seat. “Man,” she observed how it reached halfway down the cafeteria, “this table never ends!” 

“Yep.”

Mari tried huddling, too. After everyone drew apart, Mari attempted softening things by exchanging glances with her best friend. But this girl visually swept past her. Taken aback, Mari narrowed her eyes and knitted her eyebrows simultaneously. She was left with no choice but to revert to Ann.    

“Ann.” 

The tightly braided hair swung a bit as she smiled up at her. She picked up her soggy-looking hamburger. “Yes?”

“I…uh, want to introduce you to some of my friends.” Mari pointed to the thick-haired girl. “This is Barbette. We’ve known each other since preschool, but whenever you’re around her, don’t be alarmed.” She laughed, despite the pain of suddenly being overlooked. “She has been and can be pretty weird—”      

But Mari stopped. She observed the other girls question Ann before befriending her, and then noticed Barbette—the most extroverted—quiz her, smile and then accept her. Whenever Barbette jabbed Ann on the shoulder, she giggled, and Barbette flicked her eyebrows up and down mischievously. Ann smiled back at Barbette, and Mari pressed her lips together and slowly slid her eyes down to her lunch. Barbette’s allowed just us white girls. But if Barbette includes Ann after she practically interrogates her, and Ann can finish her huge hamburger, empty her full carton of milk, starve her apple down to the core and swallow every bite of her glazed cinnamon roll while widening her eyes at Barbette’s boastings, then…                     

Mari scrunched her forehead as she absentmindedly proceeded to dump her plastic into one of the yawning trash bins. I’m uncool now. Was I…just betrayed simply because I included Ann? No—did Barbette betray me so she could manipulate Ann into making herself more popular—

“Mari!” Barbette shrieked as milk launched onto a large portion of her expensive sequins shirt and dribbled down towards her turquoise denims. “You jerk!” She hollered, stamping a foot.                  

Horrified, Mari threw her tray down and dashed away. Returning with a fist of napkins, she yanked down a part of Barbette’s shirt, rubbing against it furiously to remove the huge stain. Regrettably, it remained glowering at her. Mari—struggling to ignore older students’ snickers and pointing fingers—yelled at one of the girls to help. “Hurry!” she commanded.                

“Okay!” One of them whizzed by some tall kids, who jumped out of her way before continuing to waltz out of the cafeteria. However, Ann, Mari noticed, also raced around one of the endlessly long tables, tossed her tray perfectly into one of the cart’s slots and snatched some paper towels and a spray bottle. Hurrying back, Ann cried “Catch!” as she flung the bottle to Mari. Mari caught it and squirted water onto Barbette’s shirt.    

“No, Mari—you’re making it worse!” Barbette jerked away despite Mari’s almost pleading demands to hold still. Alas, it was to no avail. Finally, these girls were called to retreat to class. Barbette tore away from Mari, who now blinked back threatening tears. She openly embarrassed her even more by telling Mari to buy her a new unicorn decorated, sequenced shirt.   

“Fine, Barbette!” Mari cried, and escaped through the double doors, pounding across the hallway floor and flinging herself into the girls’ bathroom. She banged open a stall door, locked it and sat down on the toilet cover. Letting the tears fall, Mari huddled, pulling her jeaned knees up towards herself. She wrapped her tanned arms around her legs and stayed there.

“Mari?” A voice called, echoing a little as it hit the grey tiled walls and stone floor. “You okay?”

“Does it sound like it?” Mari defended herself.     

“I’m just trying to help.”

Mari sniffed. “You sound like Ann.”

“That’s because I am.” Sneakers approached the stall door, and Ann continued. “Do you mind if you open the door?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” The shoes disappeared, and then an adult voice commanded Mari to join her Science class.

“Yes, Mrs. Addele.” Mari reluctantly pulled herself up and plodded out of the bathroom. Sighing, Mari followed her teacher and then slouched in her seat while the tall blonde’s heels clacked firmly against the multi-colored tile floor. 

“Now, everyone,” Mrs. Addele continued, folding her hands and unclasping them only to take a sheet of paper and let it slide onto Mari’s desk. She continued with the chemical experiments each student will have to come up by next week to prove their knowledge of the chemical equations they’ve been studying for the last six and a half months. 

Class swirled and whirled like the sapphire and orangish red liquids in a chemical test tube when mixed with a glass thermometer. Now Mari really mimicked Barbette’s earlier immersion by completely consuming her mind with nothing but Barbette’s sudden ignorant behavior at lunch. Why exactly did she freak just because that part of her shirt changed from hot pink to ugly white? Sure, she couldn’t throw it in the wash because of those sequins. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t manipulate Tide-To-Go or some other cleaning solution. She could just scrub it tonight, right?        

I need to talk to her on the bus, Mari decided, scooping up her binder and pencil case and dropping them into her backpack. She maneuvered determinedly through the hall with every other sixth grader. Girls and boys pushed, crowded, shoved and walked past each other as the day wound down and buses started roaring into the parking lot to take most of these crazy, boisterous students home.          

Mari envied such preteens as she hiked up the bus stairs, careful to take one step at a time until someone piped up that she was taking all day. Snickering followed, and Mari peered back to see Barbette covering her mouth and glancing meanly at her. Mari pursed her lips and lugged on ahead. She headed straight for the back. Chucking her backpack onto the long booth, Mari threw herself down and stared out the window.     

All because I included Ann! Mari pouted.

“Hey, Mari, want to buddy up for the science project we’ve got?” Barbette’s voice rang out.

No answer.

“Fine.” She spun around.        

Mari heaved a sigh, dropping her eyes down to the dark blue cotton beneath her. She hated conflict. Ms. Miss the bus driver drove Mari and the others aboard this loud, sometimes uncontrollable bus every day for five days straight. So maybe Mari could pay her back with calm conflict resolution.       

She hoped. Mari sat up straight and leaned over, examining the seats everyone vacated for the night only to fill tomorrow morning. Barbette and Marcus were the only other two children. Nonetheless, Mari sensed something wasn’t right, because Barbette was not supposed to be the third to last child to leave this bus.    

“Ms. Miss.” Mari called concernedly. Half the redhead’s face appeared in the rearview mirror.

“Yes, Mari?” Her auburn eyebrows were raised.

“Um…shouldn’t Barbette gotten off at the last stop with Conner? He left two kids ago.” Maybe Barbette will thank me for bringing this problem up, and we’ll be friends again. Or maybe she’ll think about how kind I am to her. Right? 

The bus screeched to a halt. Ms. Miss twisted around and widened her eyes. “Barbette, you should’ve left!” Barbette reached casually over and told Ms. Miss that she remained in her seat on purpose.        

“I don’t want to go home. Ms. Miss, can you take me to Mari’s house?”

“No; you need to go home!” Ms. Miss reproached. “Why didn’t you get off with Conner? I didn’t even notice!”

“I don’t want to go home.” Barbette snapped, her answer final. She crossed her arms, looked sternly out the window and shifted herself so her shoulders stared at the opposite window. “Take me to Mari’s house!”

“Barbette!” Mari scolded. Okay, so maybe chastising her would make her apologize about this afternoon. 

“Barbette—I’m calling your mother, and she’ll come pick you up. You’re not leaving this bus until you are safely home.” Ms. Miss stuffed her almost wrinkled hand into her big jean pocket and dialed Mrs. Camble’s house. “Yeah,” Ms. Miss informed Barbette’s mother a minute later, “Barbette didn’t follow Conner when the bus pulled up at her neighborhood.”

After Mrs. Camble’s Honda parked in front of the bus and the driver’s door slammed closed, Ms. Miss wound the bus doors open. Mrs. Camble boarded and walked over, her flip-flops hitting the rubber aisle strip pretty hard. “You’re not going to refuse this time, Barbette!”

“But she—” Barbette protested, flinging a finger at Mari. “She spilled milk on my shirt!” Barbette yanked down, and the unicorn stretched. “After lunch—”    

“We’ll talk about it tonight. Let’s go.” Mrs. Camble shot out a hand and Barbette, grumbling and glaring at Mari, scooted out of her seat and hiked her backpack up onto her sweater shoulders. Looking at Mari as if the milk stain was the end of the world, Barbette almost stomped as she huffed and rounded towards the stairs. Mari looked hopelessly away, realizing nothing she attempted came true.

Maybe Marcus can help me.

“Mari.” Mari startled and jerked her eyes right to Ms. Miss. 

“Come up here, and sit right across from Marcus. He seems lonely.” Mari strode along the aisle and plopped resolutely down. Suddenly, Mari didn’t feel so assertive. She didn’t really know him that much. She didn’t really know whether he would tell Ann or, more importantly, Barbette about her jerk attitude. So Mari looked away, frustration coursing through her. 

“I know I don’t talk much, but…” Marcus moved his head over a little but then straightened it. “I like it.”

Something told Mari that this moment was her chance for help!

“Your stop.” Ms. Miss looked into the rearview mirror. “That means you, Marcus.”

 “Oh!”

 Well, maybe you could if you just reached out. Mari knew this thought to be true, but stayed frozen as Marcus moseyed on out the bus and towards a white and deep brown window paned house to the far right of the school bus. Mari came alive and immediately wanted to punch something. She killed her chance. Now he was sauntering, his cleanly white sneakers scuffling the brick sidewalk spreading out like a tongue in front of wooden front porch steps.

“Mari.” Ms. Miss tore her away from Marcus and his house.     

“Yes?” Mari forced.

“What was with Barbette?” The bus took a left. Then it sat growling as Ms. Miss waited for the green light. “Why exactly did Barbette refuse to leave?” 

Mari expressed that she accidently spilled milk onto Barbette’s sequence unicorn shirt. She practically shouted when she brought up Barbette’s betrayal at lunch. “She didn’t have to protest against going home!” Mari’s cries penetrated every inch of the vehicle. 

“Yeah.” Ms. Miss leaned forward and wheeled the bus onto a long gravel road. She told Mari to grab her backpack. Once the bus snaked into a little neighborhood, Ms. Miss halted the bus and slapped an arm on the back of her large chair.

“Well, have a great night!” She tried to cheer Mari up, but Mari nodded glumly and passed her without a goodbye. As she descended the bus stairs with backpack banging her lower waist, Mari heard Ms. Miss’s genuine mutter of “Poor kid!” Scuffling up the grassy hill and then marching towards the mansion, Mari looked bleakly at the chestnut front door and then dragged her eyesight over to the gaping window. Mari just let the delicious wafting smell of bacon and eggs served every day after school hit her nose. Could her mother overcome her disinclination? Mari dropped her mouth open and pushed her tongue forward to get a taste of the whiff of greasy, salty bacon and runny, soft eggs. Her mind focused on spilling it all to her mother in hopes she could do something about it, Mari took in both scents so that they flooded her nose. She actually ran towards the front stoop and snapped down the front door latch. 

“Hey, honey!” Mari’s mother waved smoke away from her as she bent down to retrieve the pan of sizzling, grease-spitting bacon out of the humidly hot oven. Once she placed the heavy pan onto the stove, she whisked around and threw open her mitt-covered arms to embrace her daughter in a warm, welcoming hug.

“How is my amazing school child?” She grinned brightly, ruffling Mari’s silky straight hair.

“Good.” Mari answered inexpressively and clawed her backpack off, letting it slide down and thud next to the dark mahogany chair she would always throw herself into. She looked from the eggs and bacon to her mother.

“Mom.”

“Yes, honey.” Her mother had slid the turned-over bacon back into the oven.     

“Barbette’s not my friend anymore.”

Her mother gasped. “How could you say that? You’ve been pals since preschool!” She whipped around, apron swishing right along. “How dare she?”

“She betrayed me today at lunch. That’s probably why she wouldn’t get off the bus when Ms. Miss turned into Conner and her driveway! He didn’t betray anyone to become more popular.” Mari drew her face down into a sour pout and crossed her arms defensively. “She shot daggers at me when walking off the bus!”

“What?” Mari’s mother furrowed her brows. “Barbette is your friend!”

Mari, wishing her mother would just listen, jerked her shoulders up and down. “Don’t know!” 

“None of your business!”       

Barbette retorted nastily at Mari above the clacking of trays falling onto the bus aisle-like metal counter as kids yelled for the line to move. Other kids pounded the hard luxury vinyl floor on their way to place their orange juice cartons and Chicken Penne Pasta in front of them. That response stung. Mari moved away and studied Barbette’s moving mouth. 

“Everyone, settle down!” A teacher reprimanded. “Way too loud!” The cafeteria noise reduced significantly, and Mari’s face burned as Barbette kept looking from her to Ann. And whispering loudly. Most likely about her.    

“Hey.”

Mari jumped. She turned and saw Marcus standing beside her. “Want to eat with me?”

“Sure.” Mari hurried, collecting her tray and following Marcus over to one of the nearby tables. When they resettled, he offered her a fry. Declining it, Mari sniffed and re-laid the story about Barbette’s betrayal.        

“So—do something about it.” Marcus stuffed part of his mouth with a forkful of his pasta. “You’re friends, right?”

Mari shook her head and shifted in her seat, growing impatient. “No! We used to.”

This truth caused Marcus to scowl, and Mari blew on her chicken noodle soup. She still heard his change of subject, but itched to get back to Barbette. After exchanging phone numbers, Marcus and Mari found themselves laughing together about a lot of things while walking back to their classes.

“I have a science project I’m doing.” Mari brought up when she sat beside Marcus behind Ms. Miss.

“Oh. What are you going to do about Barbette?” Marcus pulled his binder out from his backpack and opened it.

“I don’t know.” Mari shrugged.

“Well, don’t look at me!” Marcus whipped his black bangs out of his eyes.

“I can’t.” Mari slumped. “She left me.”

“So?” Marcus twisted towards her. “Hey, I moved back in third grade. We’ve made adjustments. We’ll have to put up with leaving our comforts back in Canada.” He gestured with his pen. “What I’m saying is, tell her what she did wrong, and, hopefully, you’ll solve the problem!” 

Mari half-smiled and told him to get a haircut.  

“Only if you resolve your friendship conflict with Barbette!” He retorted and scratched something onto a piece of paper.

Homework—the way he coped with the bus ride home. Mari deflated.

“I don’t know if I can.” She muttered, barely moving her lips.

“You already said that.” Marcus snorted, wagging his head. Mari sensed someone move across the aisle and looked back. Barbette was strutting across the aisle. Marcus, Mari saw briefly, poked her with his pen and whispered something about standing up for herself.  

“I…” Mari did stand up, but Barbette had already turned and delivered a rude goodbye to Ms. Miss. She then descended, and Mari looked at the floor as she plopped down. Giving Marcus a weak smile, she watched him just jerk his head again.

“Try again tomorrow.” He muttered, slapping his binder closed. Mari jerked a nod. He exhaled, and looked at her with narrowed eyes. “I’m done with some of my homework!”  

Mari shot her eyes to the floor and sniffed hard. It wasn’t her fault Barbette’s so-called new best friend was Ann simply because she craved more popularity!