Bad to the Bone Boxer Read online

  At school, I kept sneaking glances at Rosie all morning. Maybe I should just go over and sit down with her at lunch. Maybe if I pretended like nothing had happened, we could start acting like we were friends again, and then I could hang out with them after school and there wouldn’t be anything to worry about.

  Halfway through our math lesson, Rosie got up to sharpen her pencil at the pencil sharpener beside the bulletin board. I saw her glance up at the leaf-raking sign-up sheet, where Midori had written her name and Satoshi’s next to mine. Rosie narrowed her eyes at the list, then looked over her shoulder to glare at Midori. Luckily Midori had her head down, taking notes, and didn’t see the way Rosie was looking at her.

  But it turned out somebody else noticed.

  As we were lining up for lunch, Satoshi tapped my shoulder and said in a low voice, “Can I talk to you?”

  I was about to say yes when Rosie came sweeping up with Pippa right behind her. She raised an eyebrow at Satoshi and tossed her hair.

  “Oh, excuse me,” she said. “Am I interrupting anything?” Her voice sounded like it was loaded with extra meaning.

  “No,” I said, putting my hands on my hips.

  “Well.” Rosie angled her shoulder to shut Satoshi out of our conversation. “I just wanted to tell you, Michelle, that my mom got in that order of silk scarves you helped pick out of the catalog last month. Remember?”

  I did remember. Mrs. Sanchez had found an amazing artist who hand-painted silk scarves, and she had said if I helped her choose which ones to order for her shop, she’d let me have one at a discount. I’d seen one with a pattern like yellow autumn leaves reflected in water, with gray river stones underneath. It was beautiful, and I’d been dreaming of it ever since.

  “Soooooo,” Rosie said, “if you want to come to the store with us after school and get your scarf, I’ll let you sit with us at lunch today.”

  Behind her back, I saw Satoshi make a face like, That’s nice of you, Your Highness.

  “Really?” I said. “Because I was thinking —”

  “And all you have to do,” Rosie interrupted, “is say you’re sorry for all the mean things you said to me on Sunday.”

  “Me?” I said. “What about the mean things you said? Especially about Tombo?”

  “Everything I said was true,” Rosie pointed out. “He is big. I mean, you can’t argue with that.”

  “But he’s a good dog,” I said, faltering. Maybe it was stupid to keep fighting. I really wanted that scarf … and more than that, I wanted my friends back. Didn’t I?

  “Think about it,” Rosie said, glancing at her watch. “You have two minutes until we get to the cafeteria.” She took Pippa’s arm and dragged her to the front of the line.

  Satoshi had his face set in a careful expression, like he didn’t want me to know what he was thinking. “Rosie’s very … direct,” he said.

  “That’s one of the things I liked about her,” I said. “She always says what she’s thinking. There’s not a lot of mystery and weirdness. If she likes you, you’ll know.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “Same if she doesn’t.”

  “And if she’s mad at you, you know right away,” I said. “Instead of having to guess for weeks and trying to figure out what’s wrong or if it’s not even anything to do with you. My best friend before her was like that.” That was in first grade, before we moved here. Because of Kelly, my mom had to explain the phrase “passive-aggressive” to me when I was seven, although I still wasn’t sure I understood it.

  Satoshi shrugged. “I guess I’d rather have a friend who doesn’t get mad at me at all.”

  I was about to say, “But nobody’s that perfect,” when I realized that Pippa never seemed to get mad at anyone. Even when Rosie was really bossy with her, Pippa stayed sweet. And I imagined that Charlie never got mad at Satoshi, either; I couldn’t imagine him ever yelling at anyone. It probably wasn’t healthy to never express your anger like that, though. My parents would say that repressing your emotions only makes them build up more.

  “Listen,” Satoshi said as the line started to move toward the cafeteria. I glanced back and saw Midori a few people behind us, talking to Charlie. It didn’t look like she’d heard any of the Rosie conversation; she was talking really fast and waving her hands in a way that made me guess she was telling him about Chihiro and Tombo playing together.

  “I just want to check,” Satoshi said. “I mean — not to be weird or anything — but I just want to make sure that you really want to be friends with Midori.”

  I looked at him in surprise. “Of course I do!” I said. “Midori is awesome.”

  “I know that,” he said. “But I mean, if you’re only being friends with her until Rosie takes you back … that wouldn’t be very cool. Because she wants to stay friends with you. So, I guess I was just wondering if this is only temporary, or what.”

  I made myself stop and think about what he’d said. To be honest, there was a part of me that expected to end up back at Rosie’s lunch table, seeing Rosie and Pippa almost every day after school. I mean, it’s not like I planned to ditch Midori or anything. It’s just that Rosie had been my best friend for so long, I kind of thought it would always be that way, once we were done fighting.

  But would that be mean to Midori? I had never even thought of that.

  Well, now I was officially confused. Midori had been really great to me, and I loved her dog. But how could I tell after two days whether she ought to replace my best friend of three years?

  “Besides,” Satoshi said, “I’m worried Rosie might stay mad at Midori, even if you go back to being friends. I get the feeling she doesn’t like competing for things.” We’d reached the cafeteria and he followed me to the line for grilled chicken sandwiches.

  “No, she loves competing,” I said. “It’s losing she doesn’t like.”

  He laughed a little. “Well, anyway,” he said. “I just wanted to make sure you’d thought about it. But you should do whatever you want, of course.” He nodded and ducked out of the line, heading for his table.

  I stood there for a long time, staring at the apples and pears and Jell-O, trying to decide what to do. I mean, not about whether to have an apple or a pear, although that’s probably what it looked like.

  Should I go sit with Rosie, say I was sorry, and go on with my life as normal? That would mean Wednesdays at her mom’s store, the scarf that was waiting for me, playing with Buttons, and knowing where I belonged. But it also probably meant the same problems with Pippa as before. If anything, Rosie might leave me out even more now that we’d fought about it. Not only that, but she’d made it clear what she thought of my dog, so that would always be a problem. If she never apologized, how would I ever stop being mad at her?

  And how could she not like poor Tombo? It wasn’t fair.

  So maybe I should sit with Midori. She liked Tombo, and it was just as much fun playing with Tombo and Chihiro as it was playing with Buttons. Plus Midori had been really helpful with our Tombo problems so far. And I knew we liked the same movies, at least.

  But what else did I know about her? I’d have to learn the important best friend things all over again, like all her favorite clothes — I didn’t even know her favorite color! What would it be like to have her as a best friend instead of Rosie? What if there was something about her that I didn’t know?

  Mom and Dad were always finding surprising things wrong with their patients. You couldn’t tell people were crazy just by looking at them. What if Midori spent every weekend studying really hard and I’d have no one to hang out with? Or what if she suddenly decided to skip sixth grade, so I’d be left alone next year?

  Then again … what if she was just a better friend than Rosie?

  Well, I couldn’t stand there avoiding the decision for the rest of lunch. I picked up a greenish-yellow pear, put it on my tray, and moved on to the cashier. Then I flipped the ends of my blue scarf back over my shoulders, lifted my tray, and marched across the cafeteria �
� right past Rosie to Midori’s table.

  Satoshi looked really happy when I scooted in beside him. Midori, across the table, was smiling as always.

  “Hey, did you notice?” she asked me. She held out her arm, and I realized that she was wearing a midnight blue shirt the same color as my scarf. Her straight black hair was clipped back with shimmery silver barrettes that matched the tassels and starry threads.

  “We match again!” she said with a grin. “Not so much by accident this time, though. I hope that’s OK.”

  “I love it!” I said. Rosie laughed at me the one time I suggested matching our outfits, because pink was her color, so she didn’t want everyone else to wear it and she definitely wasn’t about to wear anything else. “What color are you going to wear tomorrow? I bet I can match anything you’ve got.”

  “Really?” she said. “How about — a lime green sweater with a hot pink turtleneck underneath?”

  “Too easy,” I said. “My watermelon scarf it is! But now you actually have to wear that.”

  “Wait, wait,” she said, giggling. “Don’t make me do that. How about peach? I have a new peach-colored sweater I could wear.”

  “No problem,” I said. “I have a dark purple scarf with, like, a peach cloud pattern across it. It’s hard to describe, but it’s pretty.”

  “Cool,” Midori said.

  Satoshi shook his head. “Matching outfits. Girls are weird.”

  “Aw, are you feeling left out?” Midori teased. “You can wear peach tomorrow, too, if you want.”

  Satoshi made a face and changed the subject. “Are you going to finish your water?” he asked her.

  “Yeah, but I can get another one,” she said, jumping up. “Be right back.”

  While she was gone, Satoshi leaned over and said, “Don’t look now, but I think there’s actually smoke coming out of Rosie’s ears.”

  I giggled, but there was a pit of nervousness in my stomach. I’d wanted to be brave and fearless and choose the person who seemed to deserve my friendship — and even though it was new, I really felt like that person was Midori.

  But it still kind of scared me. Especially when I thought about the end of the school day and what I would do while Rosie and Pippa went off to the store. That’s where my parents would think I was. What would I do instead? If only I could go to Tombo’s day care and hang out with a bunch of dogs like he did.

  “What are you doing after school today?” I asked Midori when she sat back down.

  She made a face. “The entire family is going shopping for my grandparents’ anniversary dinner. My mom has the whole menu planned out. We have to go to this Asian food market she likes that’s forty-five minutes away. And then we have to find them a present from me and Satoshi.”

  “Should be really fun,” Satoshi said glumly.

  “We love Mee-maw and Paw-paw,” Midori said, “but they keep saying they don’t want presents. Except Mom is sure they don’t mean it, so now what are we supposed to do?”

  “For my grandpa’s last birthday, Deandre and I got him a cookbook,” I said. “And we gave Grandma a framed photo of us with her. She really liked that.”

  “That could work,” Satoshi said to Midori. “I bet there’s a good photo on the digital camera — then all we’d need is a frame.”

  “And they’d have to like it, because it’s not clutter, it’s their grandchildren!” Midori said, grinning. “Yeah, maybe we should do that. Thanks, Michelle!”

  “No problem,” I said.

  But I still had a problem … what was I going to do after school? I couldn’t tag along with Midori and Satoshi. If only I’d told Mom and Dad about fighting with Rosie.

  When the bell rang at the end of the day, I stood up and packed my things as slowly as I could. By the time I was finished, everyone else was gone except for Ms. Applebaum, who was wiping down the board. She turned around and smiled at me.

  “So how’s the project going?” she asked me. “Have you decided what we should do?”

  I sighed. It was too hard to deal with Rosie and Tombo and the goat problem all at the same time. I had to tell her the truth.

  “I can’t figure it out,” I blurted. “I tried looking online, but it seemed like there were so many charities and I didn’t know which sites to click on or which ones to believe or how to tell which one was best. I think I need help.”

  “That’s all right,” said Ms. Applebaum. She didn’t sound mad or disappointed at all. “We can figure it out together.”

  “Really?” I said. “Where do we start?”

  “Where you did — online,” she answered. “Is there a day you could stay a bit late after school to work on this?”

  “Today!” I yelped. “I mean, today would be great, if that’s OK with you.”

  “Sure. I like your spirit,” she said with a smile.

  I called and told Mom I’d be staying late at the school, and then Ms. Applebaum and I went down to the computer lab. She typed “goat Africa charity” into the search engine. A lot of what came up looked like the results I’d seen the night before.

  “See?” I said. “There’s, like, a million links.”

  Ms. Applebaum scanned the first page. “A lot of these are articles about donating goats, though,” she said. “Only a few of these link directly to charities. And here’s a link to a site that compares charities to tell you which ones are most effective. We can double-check that the charities are real there.”

  We read about goats and cows and sheep and chickens for about an hour. We found charities that paid for schools and books, and others that helped women start small businesses in their communities. There were some that used donations to fix medical problems or build hospitals, and others where the money bought mosquito nets that would save people from malaria.

  With some organizations, you just gave the money and they figured out where it was most needed; with others, you could pick which project you liked. A lot of them were in the United Kingdom, so the costs were in pounds, which was a little confusing for me.

  There were so many different ways to help. It was kind of overwhelming. It was like walking through the pet shelter — the same way I wanted to take all the dogs home, I wanted to give our bake sale money to all these charities so we could help people go to school and get healthy and live better lives.

  Ms. Applebaum looked pleased when I told her that. “We can do more bake sales and other things too,” she said. “I’d love for you guys to support more projects like this.”

  Finally we picked a charity we liked called Heifer International, where you can donate goats or geese or llamas or all kinds of things. It had good ratings and comments and an easy way to donate with a credit card online. Plus the picture of the goat on the website was really cute.

  Ms. Applebaum said she would check with the principal about using a school credit card, so I didn’t have to worry about that. And the amazing thing was that the goat was only a hundred and twenty dollars. We nearly had that much already, and that was before leaf raking! Maybe we could use the rest of the money to get something else, too, like a pig or a flock of ducks or a trio of rabbits.

  I was so excited as Ms. Applebaum drove me home. My “Make a Difference” project was really going to happen. I wanted to write to Grandma in Kenya right away to tell her. I knew she’d be proud of me.

  Not to mention it was a huge relief not to have the goat hanging over my head. I hadn’t even realized how much I’d been worrying about it until I didn’t have to anymore.

  It made me feel a lot better about Rosie and Tombo too. Maybe I’d been worrying too much about them as well. Looking at all those charities made me feel like my problems weren’t that big. At least I had shoes and could go to school and afford books and stuff. Plus I had a dog of my own to love no matter what problems I had with my friends.

  Maybe all I needed was a little help, and everything would turn out all right.

  I realized something,” I said to Midori.

  She sto
pped raking for a moment and pushed her dark hair out of her eyes with the back of her wrist. It had been pulled back in a ponytail at first, but after an hour of raking, bits of it had fallen loose into her face. She kept taking off her gloves to try and fix it, but it just got messy again. I was glad for my autumn-colored scarf — matching the golden yellow turtleneck Midori was wearing — which kept all my hair neatly pulled away from my face, as always.

  “What’s that?” she asked.

  Our class had lucked out with the weather for leaf-raking day. It was a beautiful Saturday, clear and crisp and sunny, with bright blue skies above us and tangerine orange and burgundy red leaves crunching below us. The air had that windy fall feeling where it’s not too cold yet but there’s a faraway feeling of snow and Christmas and cranberries and pumpkin pie on the way.

  My grandparents had welcomed us first thing in the morning with hot chocolate (mine without milk) and freshly baked blueberry muffins. More delicious smells started wafting from Grandpa’s kitchen as we got closer to lunchtime. I had a feeling we’d be getting much more than cider and doughnuts. Grandpa’s face lit up into his happy “cooking for new people” look when he saw Satoshi and Midori.

  “Well, I was thinking,” I said, “about Tombo and the way he was chewing everything.”

  We looked over at Chihiro and Tombo, who were galloping around the yard together. Chihiro kept spinning away from him so Tombo would have to chase her, and then Tombo pounced on her head and tugged on her ears with his teeth. Then she’d whip around and knock him over and they rolled together in the grass, making playful growling and yipping sounds. Satoshi was trying to rake under the big maple tree, but they kept plowing into him by accident or scattering his leaf pile and then looking baffled when he chased them off.

  “Tombo was so fixated on chewing stuff,” I said. “He really really wanted to chew on my dad’s shoes or the leather couch, because he thought they were the best possible things in the world for him to chew on. But then you came along with the rawhide bone, and we got him that big disgusting cow bone yesterday, and now he loves them and doesn’t want to chew anything else.”