It was lunch period, and we were sitting on the stairs that lead to the back entrance of the gym, which is where we always eat. Lunch is when social interaction happens. Since the back staircase isn’t really the place to be seen, no one goes there much. Exactly why Emily and I like it.
Emily still hadn’t commented, but I plowed on anyway. “I mean, at first, I thought I was just in a bad mood because it’s Monday and I’m tired and I’m the only person in the school who didn’t go to the dance—”
“I didn’t go to the dance,” Emily interrupted.
“But it’s not just that, is it?” I went on. “And it’s not just that I hate Lizzie. So why am I so bothered by this whole thing?”
“Because you’re jealous.”
For a second, I was too stunned to speak. “Because I’m what?”
“Jealous. You’ve always been jealous of Lizzie,” Emily said, as if it was the simplest, most reasonable explanation in the world.
Obviously, aliens must have abducted Emily and thought she was such a good specimen that they couldn’t bear to part with her, so they took her to their planet and put a pod person in her place.
I was wondering how I might contact the mother ship about returning my friend to her earthly body when a new thought occurred to me. “I think what’s bothering me is that everyone is making such a big deal over nothing.”
Emily tilted her head and looked at me strangely. “I don’t think a girl mysteriously disappearing is nothing.”
“It’s nothing, because it’s Lizzie Lovett.”
“What are you talking about?”
I opened a bag of potato chips, only briefly considering how disappointed my mom would be if she caught me consuming empty calories. She’d probably rather find me with drugs. “It’s like this, Em. Nothing bad will ever happen to a girl like Lizzie. The world doesn’t work that way. The biggest problem she’ll ever have is, I don’t know, whether to match her shoes to her eyeshadow.”
“First of all, who matches their makeup to their outfit anymore?” Emily asked, wrinkling her nose and brushing nonexistent crumbs off her blouse. “And second, you’re saying what exactly? Some people live charmed lives, and nothing tragic can happen to them?”
“I guess so.”
“That’s really stupid.”
I put another chip in my mouth and crunched loudly, knowing how much it bugged her. “It’s true though. Some people are just lucky.”
“Let me guess. You think you’re one of the unlucky ones?” A smile pulled at the corner of Emily’s mouth, which I instantly resented.
“No. That’s not what I’m saying. This isn’t about me.”
Emily raised her eyebrows.
“It’s not,” I insisted.
Emily shrugged. “If you say so.”
We ate in silence for a moment. Rather, I ate while Emily pulled strands of her hair in front of her eyes and examined the ends. As if she’d ever had a split end in her entire life.
Eventually, I had to ask. “What do you think happened to her?”
“I thought you didn’t care where Lizzie was.”
I didn’t. Mostly. I smiled sheepishly at Emily. “Well, pretend for a minute I do.”
“Maybe she got in a fight with her boyfriend and left. That’s what most people think.”
“Poor guy,” I said.
“Can we stop talking about Lizzie for a minute?”
I put down my bag of chips. I could tell when Emily had something important to say. “Yeah, of course.”
“I got a letter about that music composition program. I’m a finalist.”
I’m not one of those girls who squeals and hugs her friends all the time, but in certain cases, I make exceptions. Emily laughed and hugged me back.
“This is so exciting! Why didn’t you tell me right away?”
“It’s not for sure yet. I’m only a finalist.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re going to get accepted. I know it.”
“We’ll see. This is really big. It could help me get a jump start on the rest of my life.”
I was glad one of us was thinking about the future.
“This is awesome, Em. I’m really proud of you.”
Emily smiled, and I could tell she was proud of herself too, even if she’d never in a million years admit it.
“Do you want to come over after school?” I asked. “We can celebrate.”
“There’s nothing to celebrate yet.”
“Then we can watch the news reports about Lizzie and make up elaborate theories.”
If Lizzie was even still missing by then.
“I can’t. Piano lesson.”
“Oh, right.” I was disappointed, even if the news probably wouldn’t have new information, and Emily wasn’t good at making up theories anyway.
“You should come to the library with me after school tomorrow though. We have that report due on Friday.”
The report on the Mills. I’d forgotten. “Yeah, I guess I should.”
Then the bell rang, and lunch was over, and Emily and I gathered up our things. I wanted to say more, maybe something about how I was super happy about her music program but a little sad that we might not have one last summer together. And how maybe I was a little jealous of Lizzie Lovett and that I appreciated Emily not judging me because of it. And probably something about how she was a really good friend. Instead, I told Emily I’d see her in fifth period and went to my English composition class.