Read Online Best Friend Next Door by Carolyn Mackler - Free Book Online
Authors: Carolyn Mackler
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several of the parents.
I kick at a cup under my foot. I am soaked with cider. I reek of cider. I am never drinking cider again for the rest of my life. And it’s all the boys’ fault.
I didn’t think Hannah would want to come to Landon’s Organic Apple Orchard with us on the first Thursday in November. Swim practice is canceled today but Hannah and apples aren’t the best of friends. It’s been two weeks since the Queenz-versus-Dux fight and she still won’t drink cider. I don’t blame her. When she and Layla came back up the hill, dripping with cider, and told us what had happened, we were stunned. We hovered around, hugging Hannah and Layla, wiping them off with paper towels and trying to get them to stop crying. Marley kept saying how shocked she was, like what if someone in the crowd had been allergic to cider and then got doused with it? I felt so bad for Hannah, but in a way it was nice to be part of a class where the girls get along and stick up for each other. Which is basically the opposite of my class.
This afternoon Landon’s is having an apple festival. They’re giving away free cider and donuts, and Mom J and I are planning to pick a ton of apples. When we first moved up here I rolled my eyes at Mom J’s apple-picking passion, but I’ve found that it’s fun to climb ladders and pull apples from stems and make pies and stew applesauce. I love the way the house smells like cinnamon even the next day.
Mom J invited Hannah and Margo to join us. They were excited about it even though Hannah made sure to say that she’d for sure skip the cider. Margo told Mom J that they hadn’t been apple-picking this entire year, which is funny because we’re so dorky about our first fall in the Northeast that we’ve gone picking five times. I guess it’s the same as how we lived in Florida my whole life and never went to Disney World (for real!).
As Mom J is driving down Centennial, she glances into the backseat at Hannah. “Speaking of apples, I heard you had some drama with cider at that fund-raiser,” she says with a smile.
“Mom!” I hiss. She can be so embarrassing. The other day she tried to kiss me when she dropped me off at school. Of course Alexa and Haley were walking in the front door that very second so I nudged her away. Even so, I could see them elbowing each other and cracking up.
“Let’s just say that Hannah soaked the competition,” Margo says, laughing.
Hannah grins and flashes me a thumbs-up. “Cider bath.”
I smile back at her. It’s good to see she can laugh about it now.
“What did your teacher do?” Mom J asks. “Mr. Bryce, right?”
“Be careful or she’ll write an article about you,” I whisper to Hannah.
“Off the record,” Mom J says, flicking her blinker.
Hannah shrugs. “We all got a lecture and had to apologize to each other. Then Mr. Bryce made us think of a way to work together to raise more money. It was actually fun.”
“I wish I had Mr. Bryce,” I say, sighing. When Hannah’s class had a bake sale the following week, I bought the yummiest Rice Krispies Treat. I even ordered it from Denny, who let me look them over and pick the biggest one. “I can’t stand Ms. Linhart.”
“Really?” Margo asks.
Hannah’s stepmom is wearing a loose sweatshirt and rubbing her palm around on her belly. It’s so obvious she’s pregnant and yet Hannah still hasn’t said anything about it.
“She’s really strict,” I explain. “She made us miss recess last week. And that was just because we didn’t finish our writing fast enough. She said we were all talking, except it was only two people. I think she’s Ms. Cold hart.”
Mom J glances into the rearview mirror at me. I haven’t come home sick anymore, but I’m not skipping happily to school every morning, either. Sometimes when I can’t stand being in class I tell Ms. Linhart I have a stomachache and then I go to the nurse. But most days I just have to deal.
“Ms. No hart,” Hannah
I kick at a cup under my foot. I am soaked with cider. I reek of cider. I am never drinking cider again for the rest of my life. And it’s all the boys’ fault.
I didn’t think Hannah would want to come to Landon’s Organic Apple Orchard with us on the first Thursday in November. Swim practice is canceled today but Hannah and apples aren’t the best of friends. It’s been two weeks since the Queenz-versus-Dux fight and she still won’t drink cider. I don’t blame her. When she and Layla came back up the hill, dripping with cider, and told us what had happened, we were stunned. We hovered around, hugging Hannah and Layla, wiping them off with paper towels and trying to get them to stop crying. Marley kept saying how shocked she was, like what if someone in the crowd had been allergic to cider and then got doused with it? I felt so bad for Hannah, but in a way it was nice to be part of a class where the girls get along and stick up for each other. Which is basically the opposite of my class.
This afternoon Landon’s is having an apple festival. They’re giving away free cider and donuts, and Mom J and I are planning to pick a ton of apples. When we first moved up here I rolled my eyes at Mom J’s apple-picking passion, but I’ve found that it’s fun to climb ladders and pull apples from stems and make pies and stew applesauce. I love the way the house smells like cinnamon even the next day.
Mom J invited Hannah and Margo to join us. They were excited about it even though Hannah made sure to say that she’d for sure skip the cider. Margo told Mom J that they hadn’t been apple-picking this entire year, which is funny because we’re so dorky about our first fall in the Northeast that we’ve gone picking five times. I guess it’s the same as how we lived in Florida my whole life and never went to Disney World (for real!).
As Mom J is driving down Centennial, she glances into the backseat at Hannah. “Speaking of apples, I heard you had some drama with cider at that fund-raiser,” she says with a smile.
“Mom!” I hiss. She can be so embarrassing. The other day she tried to kiss me when she dropped me off at school. Of course Alexa and Haley were walking in the front door that very second so I nudged her away. Even so, I could see them elbowing each other and cracking up.
“Let’s just say that Hannah soaked the competition,” Margo says, laughing.
Hannah grins and flashes me a thumbs-up. “Cider bath.”
I smile back at her. It’s good to see she can laugh about it now.
“What did your teacher do?” Mom J asks. “Mr. Bryce, right?”
“Be careful or she’ll write an article about you,” I whisper to Hannah.
“Off the record,” Mom J says, flicking her blinker.
Hannah shrugs. “We all got a lecture and had to apologize to each other. Then Mr. Bryce made us think of a way to work together to raise more money. It was actually fun.”
“I wish I had Mr. Bryce,” I say, sighing. When Hannah’s class had a bake sale the following week, I bought the yummiest Rice Krispies Treat. I even ordered it from Denny, who let me look them over and pick the biggest one. “I can’t stand Ms. Linhart.”
“Really?” Margo asks.
Hannah’s stepmom is wearing a loose sweatshirt and rubbing her palm around on her belly. It’s so obvious she’s pregnant and yet Hannah still hasn’t said anything about it.
“She’s really strict,” I explain. “She made us miss recess last week. And that was just because we didn’t finish our writing fast enough. She said we were all talking, except it was only two people. I think she’s Ms. Cold hart.”
Mom J glances into the rearview mirror at me. I haven’t come home sick anymore, but I’m not skipping happily to school every morning, either. Sometimes when I can’t stand being in class I tell Ms. Linhart I have a stomachache and then I go to the nurse. But most days I just have to deal.
“Ms. No hart,” Hannah
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